❥・summary; a mysterious woman shows up on your grounds, exhausted and vulnerable. when taken into your home, she weaves a slow web of intrigue and allure.
❥・tags/warnings; vampire!jinx, human!reader, sheltered!reader, virgin!reader, experienced!jinx, strangers to friends to lovers, gothic themes, set in victorian era, frenchspeaker!jinx, isha is there for 2 seconds, lots of tension, yearning, forbidden-ish love, fluff, sliiight angst, blood drinking, smut at end, fingering, praise, scissoring, messy sex, multiple orgasms, some aftercare.
❥・wc; 13.0k
hello wow!! it's finally here! this fic is my baby and probably the fic i've poured the most time and research into. i have two accompanying illustrations that i commissioned by the incredible @gloomycattoo! ↓
vamp jinx | jinx and isha
i drew inspiration from a variety of places. this is heavily inspired by sheridan le fanu's 'carmilla' with some additional inspiration from charlotte brontë's 'jane eyre,' and a liiiittle bit of ava reid's 'juniper and thorn.' i also drew from patti smith's song 'because the night.' i still wanted to make sure my voice shone through, though, so i hope i was successful in that and that you enjoy <3
minors dni.
you hang your nightgown up in your closet, making a mental note to ask your housekeeper to wash it for you once you’re more alert. each vertebra stretches as you arch your back upward, letting out a yawn that releases tension from each muscle. last night’s rest was sufficient, maybe a bit too much.
as you start sifting through your wardrobe, something catches your eye in the mirror. you must not have noticed the sea of azure spread out across your bed when you woke, but it’s impossible to miss now. you turn back over your shoulder, seeing the figure more clearly: a petite woman with her back turned to you, soft blue waves of hair sprawled on your sheets. she has a white nightgown on, not different from the one you’ve just stripped off.
she doesn’t make any noise or shift, only softly breathes in and out.
you stand in place for a moment, awestruck. surely, if a woman was in your bed, you would have remembered it- no memory of her comes to mind, though.
you’ve never lived with any siblings. no companions have lodged. your entire life, it’s been you, your parents, the housekeeper, and the chef. guests may come infrequently, although they never spend the night.
the steady rise and fall of her shoulders puts you in a momentary trance. slowly, carefully, you step forward, one foot in front of the other, reaching out to grasp one of her shoulders.
the second you do, though, you jump back as if burned. she’s freezing, and still, completely undisturbed. if you couldn’t hear the soft exhales through her nose, you might think she was dead. that her shoulders moving was a trick of the mind.
you think you might open your mouth to try and wake her that way. perhaps ask who she is, and what she’s doing here. your heart leaps into your throat as she finally begins to stir, and then-
you sit up in your bed with a gasp, your chambers still shrouded in darkness. you blink the room into existence, then look to the spot next to you; empty, as always.
sketching might not be the most engaging thing, but it keeps your hands busy.
the apple trees outside of your house are your subject tonight; you’ve already perfected the shape and the flow of each intricate branch, the ripeness of each apple. now, you’re dipping your brush into the palette of watercolors you were gifted for last year’s birthday. almost all of the paints are at the bottom, though you’re determined to make it last.
since childhood, you’ve had odd dreams and visions; always of the same subject. a petite young woman, seemingly around your age, with blue waves that nearly reached her ankles. though her face has always been obscured, her voice was sometimes audible to you.
high pitched and smooth, but raspy in a way you haven’t heard in anyone else.
years spent trying to make sense of these dreams showed no results. every time you became aware you were dreaming, you would make frantic efforts to try and gather any information about her. even just her eye color, her age, or her name- to no avail. right as you were approaching her, about to lift the sheet shrouding her identity, the dream would come to an abrupt end.
you would be left with as many answers as you started out with.
at first, it bothered you to no end. it was a nagging question that made it impossible to rest. you would spend hours with your journal open, writing down every detail you recall from the previous night. reading previous entries and trying to see if any of them were connected, or if there were any clues you missed before.
recently, you’ve given up. endless hours of investigation bore no fruit.
the mystery was something you would always want answers to, but the thrill wore off. you came to expect this figure most nights. sometimes she would show up several nights in a row, and other times she would disappear for months on end, only to show up again right when you start to think you might be rid of her.
at the very least, her presence doesn’t weigh so heavily on your mind anymore.
with the absence of a piano playing and no ruckus outside, you’re left in relative silence.
it’s peaceful. easy to get lost in, paying careful attention to the pressure of each brushstroke. with time, the rich red begins to build up with sunlight hitting the tree from the right side–
until you hear an ear-piercing screech.
it startles you so much you drop your brush, leaving a splatter of red in the middle of the tree trunk with a gasp. it sounded close.
much closer than you should hope to hear a noise like that.
your first instinct is to peer out the window and survey your surroundings. though with darkness blanketing the earth like a veil, not much is legible to you beside the swaying of the trees in the wind, and a carriage crossing through the woodland.
no more screaming, but the noise has stuck with you. that screech rings in your ears, curls low in your belly and beckons you to do something. find out what’s happened, put a stop to it.
your feet are moving before you can even think.
your father isn’t home, but he won’t be angered by this if he doesn’t find out. you were raised with virtues of compassion, humility, eagerness to learn, and patience. this fit at least two of those.
besides, you still have your day dress on. there would be no risk of impropriety, either.
those rules you were raised with make your palms sweat. nearly make you turn back. the anxiety is overshadowed by the fact that you couldn’t resume your night in good conscience if you didn’t try to make sure things were okay. somebody could be in a dire situation, perhaps even on their deathbed.
they could need someone.
your hands held up your skirts as you rushed down the wooden stairs, creaking under your weight before finding your shoes in the drawing-room. fingers flying to lace them up, your heart was beating against your ribcage like a wardrum due to the exertion. once your boots are on, you swiped your keys from a hook near the door, then a matchstick from the guest table to strike a flame in your oil lamp. finally, you swing the door open, take a moment to clumsily lock it while gripping the light in your other hand.
it’s oddly windy tonight, even for a spring evening such as this. you survey your surroundings, whispering a silent prayer to the moon sitting full in the sky that she might offer you guidance and safety.
you’ve been out on the manor grounds countless times for early morning walks and sketching sessions in the warmer months. never, though, have you been allowed outside of your home past dark.
your parents tirelessly warned you that the night holds more evil than your mind could comprehend. as a child, they said crooks and ghouls lurked in the shadows. as you grew into adolescence, you were told that things beyond even their understanding were out there. when you entered young adulthood, they wouldn’t elaborate on either of those statements. every time you ask, you get the same response– “some things are better left unknown. we do not wish to confine you, but you understand that we must keep you safe, yes? do your exploring in the daylight hours. during the night, you are safest here.”
those words ring in your mind like you’re hearing them- like your parents are physically here.
after your mother was taken by consumption, your father only made the rules stricter.
you tried to be gracious and accept each one, following it carefully. he was never harsh, not a tyrannical ruler of your life, but he worried. he worried himself physically sick at times, despite your insistence that you’re a woman now. the world might have claws, but you will not let them sink into you.
his anxiety blinded him, though, and you grew more restless with each passing day. the careful regimens of the day, not being allowed to walk past the woodlands, and being forbidden from marrying until he’s sure you are ‘ready’ for callers (despite your lack of interest in marriage) bind you. they hold you in place like a corset laced too tight, so that you have to measure each breath you take and each decision you make.
cautiously, you lift the lantern to illuminate your path. having lived on these grounds your entire life, you know each crevice and burrow like the lines of your palm. the noise must have come from the path leading to the estate, not far into the forest. every second feels both too quick and like it’s dragging along.
all that you can think is someone is in need. and while it’s reassuring that you haven’t heard another noise, it also leads you to draw conclusions you don’t want to think possible.
your hair whips around you with the wind. you keep going, advancing toward the clearing in the trees to a narrow path. the last time you were here, it was to gather berries to bake with your mother. it’s been nearly two years since your last visit.
you swallow the feelings that threaten to rise with it, forcing your focus forward. someone needs you. someone’s life could very well depend on your timing.
with a misstep, your ankle gets caught in a thorny patch. you hiss through your teeth as the thorn digs into your skin, undoubtedly soiling your stockings. when you’ve managed to yank yourself free, the hem of your skirt is ruined.
no matter.
keep going, is what you keep telling yourself. the wind is milder here, the woodland serving as a barrier as you carefully illuminate your path.
you tried to steady your breathing and beating heart. the thrill of doing something forbidden is mixed with the fear of being discovered, and you try to bite it back.
you shine the light, moving it further into the woods, eyes darting all over.
the effort seems futile at first.
all you discover are trees and a barren cottage, which you used to play in as a child. your mother would scold you whenever she found you, telling you not to go this far. you never listened.
maybe your ears were deceiving you, you begin to think. could it have been a wild animal you mistook for a human?
until your eye catches something.
rather, someone.
laid on the ground, quietly groaning and shifting. a young woman of petite stature on her stomach near the roots of a chestnut tree, her clothes muddied and blue hair tousled out of its braided updo. her arms are held above her head as if she was in the middle of trying to crawl, but ultimately gave up. with a gasp, you drop to your knees beside her.
“miss? miss, are you okay?”
silence.
you slowly reach forward to grasp her shoulder and try to gently turn her on her back. the woman lets out a subtle groan as you maneuver her, finally lolling her head to the side. half-lidded blue eyes meet yours, making your heart stop for just a moment.
“miss. are you alright?”
she gives a slow nod of her head as she tries to rise into a sitting position. with a wince of pain and a hiss through her teeth, though, you rush to support her back as she moves.
“you do not need to speak to me, i only wish to help,” you explain, kneeling in front of her and folding your hands in your lap. “please, allow me that.”
her eyes meet yours once again. the woman surveys you, the torn and muddied hemline of your dress, the crease between your brows. she takes in the slight frown on your lips, but her own expression remains unaffected.
“everything is alright, i’ve only had a scare,” she breathes out, finally. voice raspy and strained like every syllable hurts.
“you hardly seem alright.”
she sighs, and nods as if in resignation. when you look closer, you notice the cuts littered across her face. her skirts are lifting up at the ankles slightly, revealing splotches of blood seeping through her stockings. even in the dim light, there’s a hint of bruised skin that you can see.
silence stretches between you two, not awkward, only unsettling. she’s beautiful, that much is clear- soft freckles across her face, dark brows, pearlescent pale skin that’s seemingly glowing in the night. her eyes are bright and soft, and her lips are plump. cracked and bleeding, yet gorgeous nonetheless.
she could’ve run by now, if she had the energy. she could be begging you for help through tears. she’s done neither of those things, though, and seems to be putting her fate in your hands.
“do you have anywhere to stay?”
“no,” she says. “i did, just a few hours ago. not anymore.”
you say the words before you can even think of them. “we have ample room at my house. it is not a far walk, and i can tend to your wounds until you are well again. would you come with me?”
to your surprise, she only grumbles a little bit, but nods yet again.
she’s given no indication of her identity or her background. you haven’t the slightest clue what put her in such a compromising situation. maybe it’s the loneliness of the house, but you feel a pull to her that you can’t explain. it’s been a mere five minutes and you want to know this woman more, you want to cling to her every word and spend every waking moment with her.
as you guide her into a standing position and hook one of her slim (and surprisingly strong) arms around your shoulders, you’re struck by how cold she is. gods only know how long she’s been out here- it only makes you move quicker. taking long strides toward the manor, while you keep a steady grip on her and try not to jostle her too much.
she’s had enough pain for one night. you don’t want to add to it.
neither of you speak the entire walk back. you’re careful for vines, stepping stones, anything that could throw off your balance. it’s an odd feeling, having someone so vulnerable in your care, when your whole life, you’ve been independent. the closest you ever had to a friend was a neighbor girl who lived at an estate a mile off- you would walk almost an hour to see her so that you could share your books, braid each other’s hair, and talk about your dreams beyond your estates.
when you were ten, you walked to her home, skin buzzing with excitement. you had just finished the most recent book she lent you, and you were itching to tell her about it. what you found when you approached the home, though, was silence. the usual lit-up parlor was dark, the home was barren. it was like she and her family had vanished into thin air.
after that, the next closest thing was your governess- but she was uninterested in her position, seemingly troubled by her own life.
as you clumsily swing the front door open, you lead the woman over to a couch and unceremoniously lowered her down. she made a little grunt of pain, but no further noise or protests.
first, you walk to the fireplace to throw a few logs in and light them with flint and steel. your father must’ve gathered wet logs, seeing as the flame took a few tries to light- eventually, though, the fire burned and began to warm the room. you can’t bear the thought of this girl being even more uncomfortable than she already is.
sinking to your knees in front of her, you gently take one of her legs into your hand to start examining her wounds.
the best you can through her stockings, at least.
“would it be rude of me to ask what happened?”
she shakes her head with a little scoff. she seems to be a little more alert, now that she’s out of the cold. “not at all. i must have been quite the picture, injured and helpless.”
“no, that was not it. i only wanted to help, truly.”
“that’s very noble of you, but i assure you, i am alright. i only had a scare. i was on a carriage, halfway through my journey to the city, when i made a joke pointed toward the coach. i thought it was very clever, but he didn’t agree.”
your lips twitch into something like a smile, just for a second.
“and then?”
“and then i got thrown off the carriage. i landed right in a bed of vines, the thorns must have mangled my legs.”
“they are far from mangled,” you state. although you don’t have a full view, it looks to only be a few scratches. “only a few cuts here and there. although, i can’t see them very well.”
she hums in acknowledgement. “you can take my stockings off, if that will help.”
you almost gasp.
you feel heat creeping up your neck, toward your cheeks and the tips of your ears. you’re coming to find out she’s a rather bold woman, that, or she simply doesn’t care for formalities or the order of a friendship.
you’ve only just met this woman. despite your inexperience with companionship, you’re certain friends are not meant to undress each other.
you steel yourself and swallow, taking a deep exhale. it’s only stockings, you tell yourself. this is so you can help her.
with suddenly trembling hands, your hands disappear under her skirts to find the waistband of her stockings and slowly pull them down. she lifts her hips slightly to help you, and as you peel the cotton from her legs, you see more clearly the bruises littered across her skin. a few long, although superficial cuts. the most concerning wound, though, is a large gash across her right calf.
“you’ve stopped bleeding,” you say. “but this wound.. it is no wonder you couldn’t walk. or stand, for that matter.”
she doesn’t make any noise or protest as you examine her, only stays still. even while you’re examining her wounds, you can feel her gaze pointed at your face, how intently you focus on this. it’s the slightest bit unsettling.
“am i hurting you?”
“no. you would know if you were.”
“okay,” you murmur. “might i ask for your name?”
the woman hesitates for a moment as your gaze flickers back up to her, but in a quieter voice, she gives it to you. “jinx.”
“jinx,” you repeat, then give her yours in return.
“a pretty name.”
you’re certain that heat hasn’t moved from your cheeks. “thank you.”
for the first time, her lips tug upward in a subtle smile, making your heart leap. you swallow in an attempt to gather yourself as you pour cold water onto the wounds, gently washing it out. if you knew you would be in this situation, you would’ve prepared some diluted wine.
jinx doesn’t react. she’s staying perfectly still, more still than you’ve ever seen a person be. you grab a roll of cotton to begin wrapping around her legs, securing it by twisting and tucking the ends in.
“do you feel any better?”
“yes,” jinx says, wiggling her legs around just a little bit. no winces or hisses like before. “this is all very kind of you, really.”
“don’t worry about it,” you respond. you offer jinx a hand to help her stand up, which she takes- and you’re struck by how cold she still is. you were sweating through your gown from the fire, and she seems completely unaffected.
you don’t pry, though. perhaps she just runs cold. with slow and careful steps, you match jinx’s pace as you help her up the stairs toward the second floor of your home. deep oak floorboards groan under your weight as you steer her in the direction of an empty bedroom.
“we have plenty of room for guests, it is a shame we don’t use it more,” you comment, and jinx hums.
you stop at the bedroom right next to yours and push the door open with your foot. dust strikes you immediately- you’re not sure if you can recall anybody staying in here in the entire course of your life. regardless, the sheets are clean and the room is furnished.
“these will be your quarters for tonight,” you lead the girl to the bed, gently sitting her down. “i will talk to my father when he comes home, but i hope that we can help you recover. i would hate to see you suffer more than necessary.”
jinx nods a bit and gives an exaggerated yawn, stretching her arms up above her head. that half of her body seems to be unaffected, at least. you go to your room quickly enough to take a nightgown and a change of clothes for the morning, then place it on the bed next to her.
“this is yours for tonight. we have a tub just down the hall-” you point her in the direction of it, “that you’re free to use. my chambers are only next door, so if you should need anything, i won’t be going anywhere.”
“thank you,” she says. “you really are very kind.”
“i told you, it is nothing,” you back up toward the doorway, a pang shooting through you. you don’t want to leave her side- maybe it’s empathy toward her and her circumstances, or maybe it’s the way you’ve known jinx a mere hour and she’s already managed to captivate you.
if only you could stay here longer. that would be selfish, though, especially considering the state she’s in. it goes against everything you’ve been taught, and everything you know about friendship.
so you give her a small smile, and mutter, “goodnight.”
“goodnight,” she says in return. she stands on wobbly legs, using the wall to balance her, but she seems to already be in less pain. within seconds, the woman is walking without assistance, albeit slowly.
you sigh and retreat to your quarters. you can hear the faint sound of water running just down the corridor as you unlace your corset, slip off your skirts and stockings, and step into your white nightgown. with your finger and thumb, you snuff out the candles burning on your nightstand.
with exhaustion finally setting in, you let your hair free of its updo as you climb into bed, not bothering to gather your paints or sketches.
you only crawl under the covers, unable to close your eyes. fatigue is there, yet not strong enough to pull you under. the events of the evening keep playing over and over again; how jinx was thrown out for a simple joke, her silent gratitude, the shine of her powder-blue eyes as they looked into yours, how tired she sounded. despite all of it, she trudged on.
your father is an issue you’ll deal with come morning. for now, it feels almost thrilling to have done this. you did it out of compassion, and at the same time, this is your secret- at least for tonight. secrets are a luxury you haven’t had for much of your life.
discovering more about her doesn’t feel like a want as much anymore as it feels like a need. jinx is unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. unlike any of the women in your austen novels, and a far cry from the ladies of the lyrical ballads.
eyelids beginning to droop, you roll over onto your side and let out a heavy breath. the last thing you hear before sleep claims you is the tap switching off, followed by a comfortable silence.
as predicted, explaining what happened to your father was a challenge. trying to phrase everything in a way that would make him worry the least, while also making sure he wouldn’t kick jinx out- it might be one of the hardest things you’ve done as of late.
he didn’t like the thought of a strange woman being in his home. you told him that she would be out as soon as she was recovered. he asked where she would go. when you said that she had no place to reside, he gave a deep sigh, and told you that jinx would stay. even if it was beyond her recovery time, she would stay until there was a place for her to go.
“she is better as a guest than a beggar,” he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “perhaps we could assist her in finding a home.”
that was all. as hard as you thought it would be, but quicker to conclude and a better solution than you thought possible.
jinx would have a safe place to regain her health- that was one of the things that excited you. the other, though, what excited you most, was that you might get to call her a friend, just as you had hoped to.
it’s approaching ten in the morning, and jinx still isn’t awake; you debated knocking on her door and checking on her, but would she feel offended? would that be a breach of her privacy?
besides that, last night had clearly been a shock to her system. perhaps her body was trying to overcompensate for missing rest. you decided to busy yourself making lunch for her- something simple enough it wouldn’t require effort, but still savory enough that it shows effort. you settled on a welsh rarebit with brewed tea, and kept it under the stove to heat up when she woke.
until then, you sat back by the window of your bedchambers- overlooking a sunny autumn day, albeit less windy than last night. the red splotch on your painting stared at you, while you wracked your mind for any possible solution. could you make the tree darker? no, then you would have to do the same to the rest of them. maybe you could use this to alter the lighting, but all of the solutions you can think of would look unnatural.
with a groan, you tear the painting out of your sketchbook and start rapidly sketching a new rendition of it. the trees in the same spot, the apples hanging off them just the same, the only change to the piece is that this time, you add a wooden carriage emerging from the clearing in the forest. it isn’t even a thought, it’s just something that comes out of your hand.
your focus is intent on your work, until you hear a clear “hello?” from the doorway. with a gasp, your head whips around.
it must be approaching one in the afternoon now, and jinx has only just risen. she’s in a deep plum day dress that you lent her, silks hanging off her like they’re meant to be there. neater than last night, she has her hair pulled into double braids, twisted into a sort of crown round her head. her face more bright, her stance completely balanced.
“oh, hello,” you murmur, placing your paints down. “did you sleep well?”
“very well.”
you nod to her legs, covered by her skirts, but seemingly in less pain. “are you feeling better?”
“much better. there’s almost no pain now, if you can believe that.”
“do you always heal quickly?”
“yes, i suppose so,” she steps into your room, slowly coming to stand next to you near your bed. “i don’t think of it much. is it alright if i sit next to you?”
“quite alright,” you scoot over in order to give her ample room, and the mattress dips under her weight.
“would you mind drawing the curtains?”
“oh. no, not at all.”
the request strikes you as strange, especially as the sun isn’t particularly bright today- but maybe she’s sensitive. you hadn’t asked if she had hit her head, or maybe the daylight doesn’t relax her as it does you. you don’t impose. after closing the curtains, you sit back down next to the woman, seeing her shoulders relax. her knees are turned to face you, and in this light, you can see her features more clearly.
rounded blue eyes are her most striking feature- gentle and enthralling all the same. every time they land on you, you feel something curling in you, pressing against your ribs like it’s clawing to get out. a petite nose with a low bridge, dusted by faint freckles. plump lips that seem to take on an unnatural shade of red, one that oddly suits her. dark, thick, perfectly arched brows that raised and creased with her every word and reaction.
jinx is absolutely beautiful. yet still, she isn’t perfect.
she looks almost as if she were carved from marble, skin smooth and pearlescent; yet if she were, you could see where the sculptor’s chisel had slipped. the bridge of her nose is slightly crooked, and the shape of her lips just a little bit uneven. there’s a subtle gap between her two front teeth, one you find quite endearing. from what you had seen of her legs the night before, there were already quite a few scars on her body. none of this deterred you, it only made you more interested.
jinx is statuesque. a rare kind of vision you couldn’t have imagined yourself.
“do you often paint here?”
you nod, suddenly shy about the subject. nobody has ever asked about your sketches- nobody outside of your family, that is.
“could i see?”
with a swallow, you nod once more. picking up the new painting and placing it in the woman’s hands. she examines it carefully, silently, and her lips quirk up the slightest bit.
“your coloring is lovely,” she hums. the words and soft tone she uses send heat blooming throughout your chest, and you’re at a loss for words. “i’ve never been good at any of this. i try, though. maybe just for the fun of it.”
“surely you have strengths in other areas,” you offer. “you never told me what you were doing. before you.. ah.”
jinx chuckles and shakes her head. “you can say it. i won’t be offended.”
“..before you got thrown to the ground.”
the woman nods and clears her throat as she absentmindedly runs her fingertips over the painting. with anyone else, you might reprimand them for smudging paint or being careless. with her, all words of that kind die on your tongue.
“right. i’ve had many adventures in my life,” she explains. “i’m not sure where to start.”
“wherever you think would be best. are you married? or- oh, are you a working woman?”
jinx shakes her head with a giggle. the little piece of bang she’s left out sways side to side. “no, i’m not married. i confess, i’ve never had any interest in marrying. as for working.. i was, at one point.”
your eyes widen. your intrigue only heightens at this- a young woman, such as yourself, not interested in marrying? you thought you might be the only one in the world with that feeling. you lean forward, subconsciously, voice more breathy than you intend.
“and what did you do for work?”
a slow, small smile stretches across the woman’s lips. she pauses for a moment, lost in thought and like she’s trying to articulate them. “hm.. well, i didn’t start working until machines started appearing everywhere. one after another, after another. so many of them! i did many things here and there; whoever would have me, i was happy to work. i enjoyed steam trains the most, though. i was able to work on the engines and poke the fires, it really was a lot of fun. besides that, i never had anybody hovering near me- they knew the work was in good hands, so i was left to my own devices. i really did have a lot of fun.”
every piece of information is more interesting than the last. not only someone independent, but someone intelligent. resourceful.
even though you’ve only just met her, you feel like you’ve known her for years. like you are relearning the life of an old friend, or a distant lover.
“most recently, i worked as a governess. a woman called sevika owned the house, who i suspect didn’t like me very much. no matter, though- i worked with a little girl called isha, and taught her french. she never spoke a word, but she was excellent in her reading and writing.”
“a governess,” you repeat. “you are educated?”
“hm, not formally. but you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.”
she’s right there. it brings a soft chuckle out of you.
independent. resourceful. intelligent. stunning. a good sense of humor.
does this jinx have any faults?
“did you and isha get along well?”
“we were great friends! young, but so bright. she had such a love for learning. i would help with other subjects as well, but french was always her favorite. that girl would read the french dictionary and find enjoyment in it.”
the smile on your lips only gets wider with each passing second. you’re forced to recall your own governess- the boredom on her face every time she taught you, how hurried each lesson was. how eager she was to retreat to her quarters, even when you had questions about the contents of the day’s lessons.
“my governess gave me french lessons,” you say, seeing jinx’s eyebrows raise the slightest bit. “the information never stayed with me, though. i suspect she did not like her position very much.”
jinx gives a scoff. she rolls her eyes, and scoots the slightest bit closer to you- making your eyes widen and your palms sweat. you grip the edge of the bed, trying to keep your bearings. “well, she shouldn’t have been a governess. i’ll teach you, if you would like.”
“you would do that?”
“sure,” she replies. “i must do something to earn my keep here, surely.”
“you are injured, there’s no need for you to earn anything.”
“but i would like to,” jinx says. one of her hands- just as cold as the night before- rests atop yours, sending shock waves through your system, making the air around you feel charged. how does she already have such a hold over you? “you have been something of a savior.”
the smile on jinx’s lips tells you she means this in jest, but you shake your head with an amused scoff. you? a savior? that’s a title you’ve never considered.
“hardly. i saw an injured woman and brought her into my home to recover.”
“now i am recovered, and i must thank you.”
you sigh, shoulders dropping. with her hand still resting over yours, you tilt your knees to face hers and place your free hand atop hers. “alright. you may teach me- but humor me, jinx. whatever happened to isha?”
jinx’s smile didn’t waver, though her voice dropped to something softer. a bit less playful. “that i cannot tell you, i admit i was unwelcome in the estate after some events unfolded– unrelated to isha, of course– and i was forced to take my leave. i think about her often, though. i’ve always hated formalities, but how i miss that little scrawl of ‘mademoiselle jinx.’ even though i insisted that simply ‘jinx’ was alright.”
“i’m sure she thinks of you, too,” you murmur. “it seems you had quite an impact on her, even if your time together was brief.”
jinx doesn’t say anything to that. her gaze holds yours, her smile softening, and you squeeze her hand. the spell of the moment is broken when you hear your name called from downstairs. your father must need something- you sigh as you rise from the bed.
“i made lunch for you. i will warm it, then take my leave,” having to say those words sends a pang of something you don’t quite recognize through you- hurt? longing? neither of those are rational feelings, and you know that. especially considering you’ve known jinx less than twenty-four hours.
it’s beyond your control, though. jinx has already burrowed into the depths of your mind, curled herself up and found a home there.
the next month felt slow, but passed quickly.
you’ve heard the saying that time passes quicker when you’re enjoying yourself, but every moment with jinx felt drawn-out. it felt slow in the best way, like you wanted to bite into it and keep it going just a little longer.
the woman always rose in the afternoon, despite retiring to her chambers at a reasonable hour. she would emerge refreshed, as beautiful as the first time you saw her- with no mention of her abnormal schedule. you might’ve questioned it, yet this was your first real friend. never mind the neighbor girl you grew close to years ago.
some nights, you would wake up feeling dizzy and disoriented, confused as to how you got in the position you were in. you didn’t remember unbuttoning the first two buttons of your nightgown’s collar, and you couldn’t explain the symmetrical twin puncture marks on the pulse point of your throat.
they were painless, and you would come back to yourself in due time. it may have been strange, but you never questioned it. perhaps you forgot to fasten all of the buttons in your exhaustion. maybe there were mites or bed bugs- you made mental notes to alert your housekeeper.
no matter what, though, you did not tell jinx.
you didn’t want to risk anything that could upset her. you didn’t want to press too hard, despite the overwhelming need to know more.
to know about what she occupied herself with in the mornings, the details of all of her past adventures, the inner workings of her mind. the inner workings of her mind fascinated you the most, and made you the most worried for her.
there are evenings you find her talking to nobody in particular, telling them to leave her alone and tugging at her hair. sometimes you can hear her pacing the room, other times you’re certain you hear her screaming. is she a madwoman? surely not, not with how quickly she recovers from these episodes- but you wouldn’t be deterred if she was.
some nights, jinx spends hours cradled in your arms while you gently reassure her. other nights, she rants to you through broken sobs, most of her words unintelligible.
none of it makes you any less inclined to be around her. it only makes you want to hold her closer, and chase away every voice that dares disturb her peace.
you may not know her past, but you can help her in the present.
jinx enjoys going on walks with you, citing it as a refresher for her mind. she only does so when it’s overcast, though, giving the excuse that the sun hurts her skin and eyes. at first, you found it a bit odd, yet again, you never questioned a thing.
it’s worth it to have someone to walk with, to share your world with. you point out the fountain you used to play in as a small child, as well as the tree you read under as a young teenager. jinx takes all of the information in with a small smile, sometimes grabbing your hand and giving it a soft squeeze.
you found a home for yourself on one of the stone benches. the woman went through your home library and found a substantial amount of french books- which she studied, then picked out information she thought would be helpful to you.
“the easiest way to speak in the past tense will be passé composé, at least for now,” she explains, flipping to a section that focuses exclusively on the subject. “i know, it’s all very formal. boring. unfortunately, it’s your only option right now.”
“it’s all so confusing,” you sigh. your eyes scan over the words, all a jumble to your mind. “how did you manage?”
“with patience.”
jinx flips to another page that explains the sentence structures and gives examples of the tense, angling the book so that you can see it better. the outsides of her thighs are pressed against yours, and your heads are close enough that the loose hairs from her fringe brush your cheek.
“here. remember all of the vocabulary we’ve gone over, and try. no need to be perfect, just try.”
you’re not sure where to start.
jinx is a much better teacher than your governess ever was, that much was clear from the beginning. though you’re still not very confident in your french abilities, she always pushes you to do more. go outside of your comfort zone. never beyond your limits, and always beyond what you thought was possible.
the girl’s eyes stay fixed on your expression, ready to jump in whenever you might need it.
“je me suis..”
“yes,” jinx encourages, her tone growing higher.
you clear your throat. what was the word for ‘friend’ again? your brows furrow as you try and just concentrate on everything she’s taught you-
“je me suis fait une amie.. adorable?”
jinx gasps and squeals as soon as the words leave your mouth.
“ah! you flatterer, you,” she giggles, and you descend into a steady stream of laughter with her. she playfully bumps her shoulder against yours, and your noses bump into each other. something about this moment feels familiar, like a shared memory between the two of you, but you cannot place it despite your efforts.
“i am no flatterer,” you smile, tilting your head. “did i say it right?”
“yes, lovely, you did,” she affirms. “you may not have confidence in your abilities, but i think you’re doing wonderfully.”
now it’s your turn to giggle. you hope that the heat rising to your cheeks goes unnoticed by jinx, that the way your eyes light up at each of her praises isn’t too obvious. you keep telling yourself that this comes with learning something new, this sense of accomplishment. that doesn’t explain the want to be closer to your tutor, though, or the feeling of something blooming in your chest when you retain information. when she tells you how well you’re learning.
it’s simple admiration for the skills she wields. bilingual, a good teacher, and not nearly as uptight as half the other governesses you’re sure are out there.
jinx’s smile widens at your expression, waiting for your flustered laughter to die down before she coaxes you to face her with her forefinger under your chin. your noses almost touching, your faces so close that the both of you are sharing breath, it feels as if the air has been sucked from your lungs.
what a wonderful feeling, you think.
“pour vos connaissances,” the girl whispers. “je pense que tu es la plus belle chose que j'aie jamais vue.”
you don’t understand half of what she’s said, try as you might to decipher it.
something about it, though, that raspy tone jinx said those words in- makes the heat grow even stronger. makes your breath catch in your chest as your eyes meet hers once again, and subconsciously, you lean into her touch.
“yes,” you murmur, feigning understanding. “indeed.”
with ample time, your father grew used to jinx’s presence, and came to welcome it.
you’ve become so much more lively in this short time, it would’ve been difficult for him to not notice.
he might not see you trailing after her like a lost puppy, desperate to keep talking, or her leaning her head on your shoulder and slumping against you when her energy’s run out. always at the oddest times, that girl- never exhausted late at night, when she should be.
he does see jinx whispering into your ear while at dinner, though, bringing a smile to your face. while he may scold you, he truly does appreciate that you’ve found a friend- someone who you can practice your braiding skills on and who can keep your secrets under wraps. although he never did much to encourage friendships in your childhood, your father supposes it’s important for a young woman to have at least one or two.
he doesn’t poke or prod. although jinx has long recovered by now, and has reported looking for employment, she’s stayed and burrowed her way into your daily routine. into your mind, your heart. the woman has left a bigger imprint than she’s realized- engraving each letter of her name into your veins.
after another session of french lessons, wherein jinx taught you about indirect and direct object pronouns (most of which flew over your head, but you pretended you understood. besides, her voice was enough to keep you listening), you were ready to retire. although you slept well the previous night, you were exhausted- the type of exhaustion that seeps through your skin and into your bones. with heavy eyelids, you brushed a kiss to jinx’s cheek and whispered your goodnights as to not wake your father.
after bathing and climbing into bed, you laid on your side and curled into yourself, finally allowing your heavy eyelids to fall closed. it isn’t long at all before you feel sleep begin to take you, and it feels gentle. like being lowered onto a cloud, your mind blank and tranquil.
all that’s audible at this time of night is crickets chirping and the swaying of tree branches, the winter wind whistling quietly. it doesn’t take long for you to get the rest you so desire, sleep taking you into its merciful arms.
you’re just beginning to dream, something peaceful and blank. nothing vivid or unsettling like dreams that have plagued you in nights past.
until the sound of floorboards creaking breaks the spell, and you realize you’re hearing jinx pacing around.
this is far from the first time you’ve heard it, though it isn’t usually this loud. or this rampant. it’s as if she’s running laps around the room, frantically searching for something. this isn’t something you’re used to- part of you finds it grating, and the other part finds it concerning.
you groan under your breath, eyes still closed. you simply want to rest. the urge to turn over and fold your pillow over your ears is strong, but rivaling it is the tug towards her room. she is your friend, isn’t she? you’ve comforted her before, and you suppose this is no different.
you groan, lifting a fist to your eyes to rub the sleep out of them. your head feels lighter than you remember it feeling, and your neck is faintly throbbing. you slowly lift two fingers to check the junction at your throat, the usual spot- and like you’ve grown used to, two symmetrical puncture wounds rest there.
unidentifiable and mysterious as they may be, your friend could be in danger. there are more pressing matters at hand.
with a heavy sigh, you swing your legs over the side of your bed and pad over to the door. twisting the knob slowly, quietly as to not draw attention, then approaching the door next to yours. you raise your fist, slower than usual as you try to shake the lightheaded feeling, and give three slow knocks.
“jinx?” you say, voice hushed. “is everything alright?”
suddenly, the pacing stops as you push the door open.
all of the noise comes to a halt as jinx’s figure comes into view. her blue hair is undone, loose in tight waves and down to her ankles. her eyes a glowing magenta instead of the usual gentle blue, while her chest heaves.
you realize now that since her moving in, you haven’t been inside the quarters jinx has claimed- and you haven’t seen her past the time you usually retire.
as she slowly turns to you, panting, a trail of pink following her turning head, you see the front of her white nightgown.
absolutely covered in blood, dripping with it, her chin down to her sternum soaked.
your eyes widen and you clamp a hand over your mouth to stifle your gasp, staggering backward in the doorway. jinx’s lips are parted and painted with that very same crimson, a violent rouge. you can faintly see the tips of sharp canines, glinting in the light.
she looks less like a common, educated lady, and more like a bloodthirsty beast.
“jinx,” you breathe out.
she looks at you, eyes softening the slightest bit. even through your shock, you can notice the familiar mannerisms- the tilting of her head, as if the woman is studying you. the subtle tug at the corner of her lips.
any feeling of confusion is gone. you’re more alert than ever right now- sensitive to every jitter of her body and every breath she takes. the woman before you is no less of the friend you’ve become familiar with, yet now she’s something changed. something oddly familiar to you, like you’ve spoken with her in nights past.
the more time passes, the less afraid you are. the more fascinated you become.
“darling,” she whispers. “why are you awake at this hour?”
“..what happened?”
the light emanating from jinx’s eyes slowly fades, as the hue shifts back to blue. with one linen sleeve, she wipes her mouth and licks her lips, quietly swallowing.
“nothing. i don’t suppose this looks like nothing, though, does it?”
you swallow. “no, it doesn’t.”
jinx sighs, pressing her lips into a thin line as she beckons you closer with one finger. as you approach, you pass your own reflection in the mirror, growing closer to jinx’s physical self. and yet, jinx’s reflection is absence. in the looking-glass, your image stands alone.
seeing her closer, you notice the blood starting to dry up and crust on her lips. her once-pale fingertips are stained with the liquid, as her eyes shakily meet yours. in this light, with her hair falling around her face like a mourning veil, a realization hits you like a slap to the face.
you have seen her before. more times than you can count.
that blue-haired woman who lingers in your dreams, visiting you every now and again. weaving mysteries you’ve never been able to solve until now.
the pale hand that would reach out for you in your dreams belonged to the very woman you took in- that loose sea of waves was jinx’s. the voice that called out for you had the same rasp that jinx’s does.
your lips part. you realize you must look dumb, staring at the woman like this, but you’re at a loss for words. gradually, she steps closer to you, and any person in their sound mind might be running by now.
not you, though.
“i know you,” you breathe out.
“yes,” she replies. “i suppose you do.”
“why would you hide this from me?”
“as to not frighten you,” the woman murmurs. she grasps both of your hands in hers, transferring sticky, half-dried blood onto your skin as well. your eyes don’t leave hers. “i have been visiting you for a long time now; you’ve figured that out quicker than even i thought possible. you’re a very clever girl. i just.. i did not intend for all of this to happen so soon. to meet you face-to-face, although i’ve yearned for it, for you. i’ve known you for a very long time.”
“as i have you,” you sigh. “i just.. do not understand.”
jinx only studies you for a moment. your expression, your tone of voice.
she’s expressed in moments past how afraid she is to be alone- despite the fact it’s the most familiar state of being to her. nothing frightens her more than having nothing and nobody. that fear, deep-seated and embedded into her very being, is less about being lonely, and more about the belief that she isn’t worth staying around for.
that nobody could have the patience or care to be friends with someone as unstable, as unconventional as her. the thought that somebody could love her is near unimaginable.
“i’ve seen you from afar. visited your dreams, if only as a window into your life,” she explains. “i know, it must sound terrible. how selfish of me! but you must understand, it was an indulgence. i did not intend for it to become real, as much as i wanted it to- i did not place myself on that path, and i did not throw myself off of that carriage.”
“all of this is mere coincidence, then?”
“yes. coincidence,” jinx says. her voice is growing more desperate by the second, her head tilting. her eyes growing larger, a silent plea for mercy on her poor soul- if she even has one, you now question. “if you wish me to leave, i will. but please tell me gently, and please know that i do care. truly.”
“don’t go.” is your immediate response.
the woman’s eyes widen.
this time, you squeeze her hands in response, the shock of the blood wearing off.
you remember reading about the supernatural as a small child. tucked away against the bay window, you would lay and read about ghosts and goblins of all kinds. vampires, though, blood-sucking monsters with hearts of steel and souls chained by dread, frightened you the most.
you recognize that the blood soaking jinx’s face and night dress must be yours.
the puncture wounds you’ve grown close to, you realize now, are the same distance apart as her two canines.
instead of fright, though, you feel pity, you feel sympathy.
compassion.
slowly, one of your hands cups the woman’s cheek, and she melts into it.
“i will not leave you alone,” your voice is hushed, rivaling only the wind.
jinx lets out a heavy sigh, turning to press a kiss into your palm. she looks back at you, then, with possibly the warmest gaze you’ve ever seen in a person. like she’s looking at a greek statue, or the person dearest to her.
“jinx,” you start. “have you ever been in love?”
“i have not. i never shall, unless it should be with you.”
“no. repeat after me. puis-je vous demander..”
“puis-je vous demander,” you repeat, though the rhythm isn’t the same. your french sounds a bit more choppy than jinx’s- like an automaton.
“say it quicker. more confidence. nobody is looking for mistakes,” she says.
the two of you have continued the same routine, walking during overcast days and sitting on a stone bench for your regular french lessons. today, jinx’s focus is on essentials for travel and business. despite you telling her that because you aren’t a working woman like she is was, you won’t need this, the woman insisted.
“as your friend,” she assured you- and somehow, that word made your stomach turn- “i must make sure you’re prepared for whatever might come your way. better to be prepared, yes?”
you clear your throat, remembering the advice she’s given you: more confident. quicker.
“puis-je vous demander..” you start, and she nods, silently encouraging you to continue. “puis-je vous demander comment vous rendre au.. Centre-ville?”
“yes!”
jinx claps her hands together loudly, with no regard for her volume. you descend into a fit of steady laughter as she wiggles around in her seat.
neither of you have talked about what happened the other night.
you feel it would be uncouth to bring it up. maybe jinx doesn’t want to talk about it, and that’s why she hasn’t brought it up. maybe she’s trying to protect you, and your feelings.
all you know for certain is that since that night, you haven’t woken up with a soreness on the side of your throat. the skin has been completely spot-free, and there’s been no dizziness or confusion.
“jinx,” you murmur, pressing your lips together. “why are you teaching me all of this?”
“i told you,” she says, raising a dark brow and smiling. as if she thinks you’ve said something funny.
“no. french.”
“because you said your governess was not interested in teaching you,” she states, matter-of-fact. to jinx, this all must be incredibly obvious.
“but why do you think it would be valuable to me?”
“because it is a good skill to have, speaking multiple languages.”
“in whose eyes?” you sigh. you’re not angry, and you aren’t upset- you don’t know what you are.
confused. puzzled. that’s it.
as to why jinx has become such a close friend of yours, and insists on treating you like she might a lover- likely knowing that you feel for her like you would a lover, as well. but she acts coy, she acts as if this is all part of a normal dynamic.
she should never be in love with anyone, unless it is you- but is it you?
“should i become a teacher one day? or will it be impressive when i marry-”
you’re cut off by jinx’s cold hand clamping over your mouth.
any of the friendly warmth she had just a second ago is washed away. her eyes are set, boring into yours, her brows furrowed and lips pulled into a subtle frown.
“you will not marry,” she states, voice cold and low. “just as i will not.”
all you can manage is a slow nod, with the woman’s hand still covering your mouth. truthfully, you did not want to marry to begin with- maybe you said it solely to get under her skin.
and get under her skin you did.
the desired result, though, still feels so far away, like it’s slipping through your fingers every time you look at her. you’re not sure what more you can do when your mind is screaming at you for more.
more of this.
more of jinx.
the wind howls outside with the swirling of a blizzard. the entirety of your estate has been painted white, with no reasonable hope of having any outings soon. no walks, and certainly no carriage rides- sometimes you swear you can hear the flakes hitting your windowpanes with how intense they are.
you’ve always found winter weather relaxing, though. where others may see danger and chaos, you see beauty. you spent the morning in the drawing-room reading and painting, finally moved on from the trees and advancing to a painting of snow-capped mountains.
maybe one day, you might see a scene like that with your own eyes.
after a lesson with jinx in the library, then dinner where the woman held your free hand for the whole duration, you decided it was late enough to retire.
you let your hair loose, drew a steaming bath, and changed into your linens. sleep came easily, as it seemed to recently, peaceful and blank. you did not toss or turn, only rested through the night-
with a gasp, your eyes open.
loud footsteps and heavy breathing.
you haven’t heard it since that night when you discovered jinx’s true nature. except now, the pacing isn’t happening on the other side of your wall, rather it’s happening at the end of your bed.
“jinx?” you murmur, exhaustion lacing your voice.
“dearest,” jinx whispers. “go back to sleep.”
shaking your head slowly, you sit up to focus your gaze on her frazzled figure. hair loose, skin pale and near glowing in the pitch darkness, and fangs bared.
“no, i.. what’s wrong?”
“i..” the woman sighs, smoothing her hair back as she crawls onto your bed. slowly hovering over you, her hair falling around the two of you. “please, forgive me. i’ve tried to abstain, i’m just so thirsty, and i- gods, this aching i have for you, it cannot be sated. no matter how hard i try. i have loved you from afar for years. you haunt me at every turn, with those sweet words of yours and the way you look at me. like i am not a monster, but something worthy.”
you open your mouth to say something, but jinx is quick to cut you off.
“do not torment me if you do not love me, do not lie to me. but don’t leave me, either.”
your eyes search her expression. her brows are still furrowed, and her eyes are starting a gradual shift from their usual blue to a glowing magenta- wide as if she’s bracing for a punch. like you hold her entire life in her hands, and she’s preparing for you to throw it away.
“jinx,” you whisper. “please. do you have any idea how long i have waited to hear those words in your voice? i waited, because you are my friend, and i did not say anything because i thought you might think it foolish or amusing- but i am certain. i cannot hide that.”
the woman almost gasps.
she looks into your eyes and sees no hint of deception. her hands find your shoulders, and one hovers just above the buttons on your nightgown- to which you start unbuttoning yourself.
you know what she wants. you see the faintest hint of spittle dripping down her chin as she eyes your pulse point, and you know that it’ll hurt. somehow, though, you aren’t afraid- rather you embrace the inevitable pain.
what can you do to show your devotion to jinx, if not to quite literally become her life’s blood? to let her consume part of you?
with a steady hand, she unbuttons until she’s right at the valley between your breasts. finally, she lowers herself to your neck, and you think you might feel something then- but you only feel her lips pressing against the smooth skin, trailing down until she’s at your chest.
“so beautiful,” she whispers. “all of you. and you’re allowing me to have you..”
you let out a low whine, eyelashes fluttering as she lightly nips at your chest. her hand makes a path down your waist, the dip and curve toward your hip, then underneath the hemline of your nightgown. she looks up at you once, a silent request for permission, and you immediately nod.
you have no experience with this, your limited knowledge of it comes from storybooks that left much to the imagination. seldom did your fingers creep under your own skirts, but how jinx made you ache.
the two of you should not be together like this- two young women, unaccompanied, unmarried. you know it isn’t becoming of you to do this, yet you want it more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your life.
while it may not be the most realistic thing to wish for, you have the night; and it is faithful to you.
jinx parts her lips to reveal sharp fangs that glint in the moonlight, bringing them down to a vein that runs on your chest, right above where the plush of your breast starts- right above your heart. you gasp with the sensation- it hurts, but only for a moment. after, all you feel is a continuous pressure as she drinks from you. you hear her swallow once, then twice, as her fingers creep between your thighs.
bare underneath your nightgown, jinx easily finds your wetness. warm and slick, she gently parts your folds with her middle finger, and just that leaves you breathless.
another swallow from you, then the woman finds your clit and rubs it in tight, slow circles with her finger. you give a shaky, rough moan, and she smirks against you.
“oh- that’s..”
she keeps the same steady pace, working you over expertly. part of you wonders if she’s done this before- surely, she must have- and the other part wonders how you’ve never felt anything quite this good.
she picks up the pace, rubbing your clit even faster, and your head falls back. the wet sound of squelching fills the room along with your shaky breaths and ragged moans, pulled from the depths of your chest. your head feels like it’s spinning, your vision is going fuzzy. you can’t tell if it’s from her feeding off you, or from how sweetly she’s fucking you.
either way, you’ve lost all of the careful grace and humility that’s been taught to you. your hands fly to her back, clawing at the white fabric covering her.
“jinx, so good, please-”
she laughs lowly against your skin before sinking one finger into you. you near scream.
you’re soaked. her finger goes in too easily, like you’re sucking her in. the woman thrusts it in and out of you, slowly at first while she massages your clit. she swallows one more time, before she pulls back.
a steady stream of blood drips from both puncture wounds. jinx’s tongue lavs over both of them like licking the icing off a cake, before kissing the skin as if offering a silent apology.
and finally, with your blood still coating her lips, she raises her head to kiss you. her lips meet yours like she wants to devour you- her tongue pushing past your lips, tugging your lower lip between her pointed teeth just gently enough to not draw more blood.
it’s intoxicating. addicting. you can faintly taste yourself on her lips, coppery and bitter. she gives soft moans against you as if she’s the one being pleasured. something in her delights at being the first one to give you such ecstasy. to hear your pretty moans and soak in your shrill cries, to have you body and soul.
“you taste divine,” she whispers, sinking another finger in. you give a choked cry, and the woman chuckles lowly. “do you have any idea how beautiful you sound?”
“that’s so good,” you murmur. her long fingers are able to reach spots you’ve never been able to yourself, and she giggles as she finds that spongy spot that makes you see stars- hitting it again and again. “jinx- ungh, please!”
“please what, darling?”
“i- oh,” she hits that spot, again and again, surely hard enough to bruise. you feel tension building in your lower stomach- unfamiliar, but blissful. “more, more- gods, you’re perfect..”
“a high honor, coming from you,” she teases. the woman’s fingers speed up and grow firmer. pushing you toward that ecstasy, wanting more than anything for you to tip over that edge. her lips are tugged into a sly smile, her eyes glowing bright in the dark room- bright enough to highlight the halo of crimson around her mouth. “come on, sweet girl..”
you keen, fingers clawing at the woman’s back as your back arches against her. with one more firm thrust, you shatter, mouth falling open in a scream and head tossing back.
her name falls from your lips like a prayer, over and over as your thighs quiver and your arousal coats jinx’s fingers. she chuckles against you, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to your neck.
“good, good girl,” she whispers. “you’re so perfect..”
you whine weakly as you come down from your high, chest heaving. the woman’s tongue darts out to lick at your neck before she pulls back, placing a light kiss to your jawline.
your limbs feel like jello, every nerve ending feels like it’s been set alight. yet you have it in you to wrap your arms around jinx’s waist.
with a smirk, she raises her fingers to her lips and swirls her tongue around the digits, groaning as she cleans off your arousal- and you gasp, as if scandalized.
“jinx!”
“what?” she giggles. “of all of this, that’s what’s gotten to you?”
you groan, rolling your eyes, but the woman only laughs and pinches your hip. she starts working at the rest of the buttons of your nightgown, properly undressing you, and her jaw near drops when she finally sees you bare.
laid out underneath her like a feast- an offering that she’s all too eager to receive and ravish.
reverently, the woman runs her hands along your sides, over your breasts, brushing your hardening nipples and feeling something in her chest flutter when you faintly moan with the touch.
it’s perfect, yet something isn’t right- you grab one of jinx’s wrists, abruptly stopping her. she looks down at you as if she’s been burned.
“did i do something? you-”
“no,” you whisper. slowly, you move your hands to the collar of her own nightgown. “just.. may i see you too? please?”
jinx lets out a sigh, nodding firmly. with unsure motions, you unbutton the white cotton, watching as it falls open to reveal her slim, toned body- petite, perky breasts, lean muscle on her arms and thighs, soft curves, a bush of blue between her thighs that matches the hair on her head.
she has various scars in various places. some larger than others, some in close proximity.
she’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.
as the fabric falls from her body, you sit up a little to admire her more. your lips plant soft kisses to her jawline, her neck, her breasts- but quickly enough, they pick up in intensity. soon enough you’re leaving open-mouthed kisses to her neck, down to her tits, while your hands run down her waist and land on her rear. despite herself, the woman gasps.
your lips find one of her nipples, placing a little kiss to it before your tongue darts out. you pray that your inexperience isn’t showing- though if jinx’s reactions are anything to go by, you think you’re doing a fine job.
the hot muscle swirls around her nipple once, then twice, before your lips form a seal and you start to suck. jinx lets out a broken moan, her head falling back.
“oh- gods, darling, ‘m sensitive there-”
you don’t let up. in response, your free hand kneads her other breast while your thumb runs over the nipple, rubbing in tight circles as jinx moans. lewd little noises coming from her, the rasp in her voice ever so evident, you feel heat pooling between your thighs yet again.
all you want to do in this moment is make her feel good.
the rest of the world be damned- no matter if she’s inhuman, a bloodsucking beast- you love her, and you know that she loves you in return.
her hand flies to the back of your head, not pushing you, but holding you there. you only suckle harder, starting to pinch and twist her other nipple between your finger and thumb. jinx lets out a high squeal, and you hum against her.
“fuck- oh,” she groans, gently pulling you from her tit. you look up at her with wide eyes, mouth agape in confusion from the loss. “i know, i know. but i have something much better in mind.”
you only stare at her, almost dumbly. the woman crawls between your knees and slowly slots herself between them, lining up your pussies and holding eye contact.
“do you trust me?”
“you know i do,” you nod.
jinx hums her approval, the smile returning to her lips. one of her cold hands braces your hip, before she lowers herself onto you. the second your pussies touch, both of you gasp. heat against heat, slick against slick.
“love-”
“shh,” she whispers. the woman meets you for a brief kiss, then gives a little swivel of her hips to test the waters. “i know what i’m doing. it’ll feel incredible- be patient.”
you nod, letting out little whines as she moves her hips. that first catch of your clits draws a shaky moan from you, then they meet again, and again, and again. you brace yourself on your elbows as jinx starts humping against you, so wet she barely has to move.
“ungh- you feel so good,” jinx groans, and you whimper.
“you’re so.. ah! so wet, so perfect,” you murmur. “feels so good..”
as if on instinct, you start grinding right back against her- moving your hips in slow circles, crying out each time your clit catches hers. you’re so close you’re sharing breath, a thin sheen of sweat coats both of your foreheads. the storm outside is completely forgotten in the warmth she offers.
one of your arms loosely drapes around her neck to keep her close. a piece of her fringe sticks to her forehead as she pants, humping against you like a mutt- letting out broken little moans.
with each drag of her drenched cunt against yours, you feel yourself climbing higher. already sensitive from your last orgasm, you feel like your mind is clouded- your thoughts blurry, your ears feel as if they’re stuffed with cotton.
the cotton dissolves long enough for you to hear jinx crying out your name, praising you through her pleasure. you grab at one of her tits, clumsily rolling her nipple between your fingers- and she surges forward to claim your lips in another kiss. coppery aftertaste still there, your tongue swirls with hers, your teeth scrape, you swallow her moans like they’re a rare delicacy.
“that’s it- right there, right there, don’t you dare stop-”
you don’t for a second. you drag your pussy against hers, clits kissing- your back arching like a bowstring each time they catch.
is this what it feels like to make love? to have your maidenhood shattered?
you could grow addicted to this feeling. maybe you already are.
jinx’s fingernails dig into your hips, undoubtedly leaving little crescent-moon indents.
“ngh, jinx..” you knead at her breast, starting to leave messy kisses over her sharp jawline and freckled cheeks. “please, i’m almost there..”
you guess by the way her abs tense and her hips go to an almost animalistic pace that she’s right there with you, and the woman nods rapidly. she chokes a moan, pressing even firmer against you somehow- so close you think the two of you might merge into one.
it isn’t mean or harsh, just intentional. like she’s putting her mark on you. the most surefire way of claiming you as hers, and hers only.
“me too,” she breathes out. her head falls onto your shoulder, hot breath fanning over your skin. “together, love, hmmph-”
you nod rapidly. loud squelching noises echo through the room along with your cries, as you feel yourself getting closer, jinx’s dark brows knitted together in ecstasy.
one more swivel of your hips, and you break. your mouth falls open in a silent scream, and jinx follows closely behind, her back arching against you as she cries out your name. her arousal squirts over your pussy, your inner thighs, your stomach, signing your skin in the filthiest font.
her thighs are shaking madly. her fangs glinting in the moonlight as she cries, eyes squeezing shut.
you’re beyond yourself. jinx is panting, her voice broken and hips stuttering as you both ride out your high. in all of your dreams, the mystery woman you now can call jinx was breathtaking, yet seeing her in reality, so debauched, is unlike anything she could’ve showed you through a dream.
“gods, jinx, that-”
“mhm,” she groans. “so perfect.. and all mine, yes?”
“yes,” is your immediate answer. you’ve never been more sure of anything in your life. “all yours..”
this woman- this perfect stranger with a rare beauty and sharp tongue- you want to be bound to her in your entirety for as long as you live.
with a smile and a quick peck to your lips, she slowly draws herself from between your legs. you let out a little whine at the loss of contact, earning a soft chuckle from the woman. she strolls over to your linen closet on shaky legs, stumbling a little near your dresser, and taking a washcloth.
the mattress dips under her weight as jinx crawls back in front of you, her hands- somehow still frigid- gently parting your thighs so she can wipe them clean. she gently cleans her slick off of you, peppering your stomach with soft kisses. the puncture wound on your chest has stopped bleeding, yet the sight of it makes jinx gleam inside.
she did that.
you’re wearing proof of your shared desire.
“are you alright, beautiful?” she hums, watching as you nod. “i was not too rough?”
“no,” you murmur. “you.. you were perfect. janna, is that what it feels like?”
that makes jinx giggle, and she nods. she tosses the washcloth aside, landing somewhere on the floor, before laying beside you. she opens her arms as a silent invitation, which you immediately accept, curling into her side. skin to skin, she’s warmer than usual, skin calloused yet soft simultaneously. you lay your head on her chest, directly over where her heart would be, yet you hear no pulse.
“yes, it is,” she whispers, pressing a kiss into your hair. “i would be delighted to show you much, much more. as long as i’m allowed my fill.”
“naturally,” you say.
she hums. your head burrows into the crook of her neck as she draws your comforter up to cover you both, and you let your eyes flutter closed. sleep seems more appealing by the second, yet you want to relish every moment with your lover.
you thank janna that your father’s quarters are on the other side of the hallway, and that you have no neighbors nearby. the night belongs to you and jinx only.
your lips brush lazy, tired kisses to jinx’s neck, trying to portray all of your unspoken feelings. all of the affection you have for her, you couldn’t verbalize it if you tried- you are no poet or lyricist. but you are a girl who can offer love, and that’s all jinx wants.
“go back to sleep,” jinx whispers. “i will not leave your side, i promise.”
“mm..”
you let out a heavy sigh, your arms winding around jinx’s slim waist as you burrow further into her. your body slowly succumbs to slumber, peaceful against the backdrop of the pale moon and blizzard.
you can’t spend your time complaining that “fluff is dying” and then scroll past the fluff that does get posted just because it doesn’t make you feral. i’ve watched my mutuals/friends—some of the most talented writers i know—post beautiful, heartfelt fics and get crickets. i know how hard they worked and how long they sat with that story or their hcs. how much love they poured in while juggling real life, mental health, burnout, school, jobs.
writers are people. people with moods. people with lives. people who love this fandom stuff so much that we sit down and spin entire worlds from our heads (for free‼️) because it brings us joy, because we like seeing others feel something from our words. but the moment it starts feeling one-sided, when we only get engagement if we’re churning out a certain kind of content, or when people treat us like vending machines that owe them a particular genre or tone—it stops feeling like a community.
“write more,” “write faster,” “write this instead.” we’re not factories. we’re fans. we post things because we care, we write what calls to us, what we’re good at, what we’re in the mood for, what inspires us. and it’s not even about the notes—it’s about the disconnect lately. writers don’t want clout; we want community. we want to feel like someone read it and it mattered.
so if you want more fluff, engage with it when it shows up—reblog it, scream in the tags, leave a single sentence in someone’s inbox. it goes a long way. writing is free, but being ignored hurts. and i see more and more of us start to wonder if it’s even worth posting at all.
this isn’t the first post about this, and it probably won’t be the last. writers have been speaking up, but no one’s listening. or worse—people see it, nod, and keep scrolling. and that also stings. not just the lack of interaction, but the fact that when we do bring it up, we’re ignored then, too. we’re not asking for the world. just a little acknowledgment.
also, notice how “why is there so much smut?” and “we want more fluff!” go hand in hand the majority of the time? quoting @sketch303: “i don't think those people actually like fluff, they just like the feeling of being superior to smut readers, showing the rise in purity culture in fandoms.” i hate to say she might be right. some people want to set themselves apart from the “dirty smut readers,” as if enjoying or writing explicit content makes you lesser. it’s less “i miss fluff” and more “i need everyone to know i’m Not Like Those Readers™️.” what they do is treat smut writers like they’re lazy, gross, or somehow less serious and less worthy of praise.
hey so i’ve been wanting to do something like this for a while after missing my college’s formal this year 😣 anyways i thought it was a cute idea!
summary; jinx’s girlfriend asks her to a dance. jinx wants nothing more than to see her happy.
characters included; jinx
tags/warnings; fluff, student!reader, jinx is a mess (lovingly), reader is fem(me) presenting, jinx is a lover girl, sooo much fluff
men dni.
jinx doesn't do formal.
the conversations are dreadful, the spaces themselves are suffocating. stuffed elbow to elbow with a bunch of rich people, the smell of drinks in the air, the stupid rituals- they're all things she can't stand.
the thought of being stuffed in a champagne dress and having to navigate small talk with some piltover brat makes her sneer, almost as much as sitting through announcements and hearing a stringed quartet. that's what she imagines these events to be like, and she wants no part of it.
unfortunately for jinx, her principles are flimsy at best when it comes to you.
"jinx," you hummed, wrapping your arms around her from behind her. the girl's hands were busy with a new contraption, something she seemed a bit secretive about- but she immediately leant back into your chest. "i wanna ask you something."
"mm, yeah? ask away, toots."
you'd already thought over how to ask this, a million times over. you knew exactly how your girlfriend felt about these things, it was already a fight to get her to eat in the dining hall with you when she would visit campus. your dorm was the only place she'd go is what she said- everywhere else was too fancy.
"so, uh.." you started, grip faltering slightly. "there's this formal going on at school soon. with music, and dancing, and all that."
jinx's motions paused, and she seemed to go still for just a second. the girl placed her project on the workbench, before swiveling around in her seat to face you.
"yeah, what about it?"
"i.. wanted to know if you would.." damn it, her furrowed brows didn't do anything to help your nerves. it took every bit of strength in your body to hold her gaze. "..be my date?"
a pin dropping could've been heard, you thought. at first, she wasn't sure she heard you right. surely, knowing how jinx feels about those settings, you'd know what her answer would be. it seemed like a pointless endeavor to her, and the thought of a dance made her cringe- spins and dips and fancy clothes.
but jinx saw your anxious form, how hard you were trying to keep your composure as you awaited her answer. she bit her lip in contemplation because damn it, she shouldn't even be thinking about this- but if you asked her despite everything, it must be important to you.
and then she let her mind wander, just a little. the thought of you in a pretty dress, dolled up and reaching out for her. slow dancing with you in a dimly lit room, breathing in the scent of your perfume. helping you clasp jewelry and touch up your makeup. walking onto the floor as a couple.
as stuffy and obnoxious as it sounded on its own, jinx found herself almost enjoying the idea when it involved you.
"i'll go," she said, lips tugging into a lazy smirk. "just don't expect me not to step on your toes."
your eyes widened momentarily- were you hearing things? this had to be some kind of fever dream, truly, but.. "you will?"
"yeah, what's a few hours with piltover college kids?" a huff, and she reached out to squeeze your hand. "i can deal with it for you."
and the smile that spread across your face, wide and toothy and so damn bright made those words so worth it. jinx's world grew a little brighter in that moment.
"good, because i already bought a dress," you giggled.
"already? you were that sure i'd say yes?"
a playful, light slap to her shoulder and another chuckle. "i was just being optimistic!"
tease as she might, the thought of seeing you in that dress made her heart leap. maybe it's better to not think about that until the day of, she'd drive herself crazy.
✧.*
as the date gets closer, it starts to truly sink in just how serious this is.
she scoped out flower shops, and unsurprisingly there aren't any in the undercity. so she dragged her feet up topside, to a quaint place tucked in the corner of a residential district.
"sweet blossoms," a wooden sign reads, stuck above the entrance. a brick exterior with tall glass windows at the front that display colorful arrangements, with price tags underneath and little slogans like "celebrate life's precious moments," and "a quick way to show your love." it's corny until jinx remembers why she's here.
a little jingle comes from the door as she steps in, and the attendant gives her a nervous smile. they probably already know who she is, who doesn't? but she gives a nod in response. this has to be a family-owned place, she thinks, not like the chain stores and corporations that plague the rest of the city. few and far between.
the walls are lined with greeting cards toward the front, packages of dried flowers, a few shelves of seed packets. ceramic and plastic flower pots line another wall, colorful and carved intricately. they're cute, but they're not what she needs. there's not a directory in this place, so the girl is stuck wondering aimlessly until she can find what came for.
it's a damn flower shop. surely, the bouquets would be in here somewhere.
and then her eyes settle on a lit-up, cool display of bouquets. it's rather large, encompassing the back of the store. jinx makes a beeline toward it. jinx doesn't really know where to begin here, she's never bought someone flowers. come to think of it, she rarely even sees flowers, with how dense the air in zaun is. but this is a dance, and she can't just show up empty-handed.
scanning over pre-wrapped flower arrangements. there's price markers below each one, as well as a small piece of paper on the wrapping that details the meanings. jonquil- respect and friendship.
of course jinx respects you, but friendship is mild for what she wants to express. red roses for love.. that's a good option, but red roses are typical. every girl at the formal will probably get them from their date, and she wants it to be clear that she's put thought into this.
because when jinx commits to something, she's all in.
each bouquet is a letter of its own, a sea of vibrant colors and unspoken feelings. maybe they'll speak to someone else, but this is for you. the girl crosses her arms, looking over the arrangements once again- and then she spots it.
red salvia, with a note that reads "red salvia blooms all summer long, with a message that says 'forever mine.' a symbol of enduring love."
that's perfect. she immediately grabs the bouquet- the last one on the shelf, and looks at the price tag on it. eyes widen, and she swallows, because holy shit. that's steep. jinx takes a hesitant step back, and then she looks to her left. to her right. back toward the register, where she sees the attendant now missing.
fuck it.
jinx turns on her heel, immediately running toward the door and swinging it open. she runs down the block, then into a back alleyway when she hears a voice shouting after her- something about paying. a pallet provides sanctuary until the voice fades into the distance.
oh, well. she's done much worse in topside.
✧.*
when it comes to dancing, jinx is completely and utterly hopeless.
she has a good natural rhythm, she can move to a beat, jump, bop her head and swing her hips with ease. but anything coordinated with a clear technique to it is beyond her.
jinx has cleared out a section of her hideout spacious enough for what she's about to do. she's got youtube pulled up on her phone with "how to slow dance" typed into the search bar, and she scrolls through a few of the results.. almost all of these are tutorials that require another person.
but seeing as you're not there, and she wants to surprise you, that won't work. the easy and rational thing to do would be to ask you to come over so you can learn together, but damn jinx and her pride. she wants to show up and surprise you with the skill, enough to make you think that she's known this whole time. even though you know damn well she hasn't.
so the girl keeps scrolling- a few more results coming up. "how to slow dance at weddings," "how to slow dance: a 10 minute guide," "slow dancing for beginners." all seem helpful, but the second they start playing, the video starts displaying terminology she's not familiar with. to be frank, it's intimidating.
then she comes across a video titled "how to waltz, made easy." that's it. waltzing, that's what people do at these types of events- right? so this time, jinx types into the search bar "how to waltz alone." a few more results pop up, this time videos about basic steps that can be learned on her own. it's a start, at least, so she taps on one of the first to show up and props her phone against a shelf.
the video starts with some royalty-free music, then a smiling instructor to start explaining in front of a studio mirror. "the waltz may seem scary, but it doesn't have to be. today, i'll show you some steps to get you started and help boost your confidence when dancing. first, the most basic step in the waltz: a box step."
she crosses her arms over her chest and listens in, then takes a step back as the woman in the video starts explaining. it's times like this jinx wishes she had a laptop, because she's struggling to see what the hell is being demonstrated on the tiny screen.
"if you're leading the dance, you'll want to first step forward with your left foot."
simple enough. she puts her left foot forward, then waits for further instruction- "then, use your right foot to step sideways, to your right. bring in your left foot, so both feet are together."
she does that as well, and finds this is actually pretty easy so far. maybe she could handle this dancing thing after all. "after that, step backward with your right foot. step to the side with your left, and bring both feet together. you'll want to follow a 1-2-3 rhythm. i'm sure you'll notice that it's the same sequence we just did, but reversed. see? easy!"
yeah, it is. forward to the right, backward to the left, it's not rocket science- and the video drones on. "now that we've learned the steps, let's try it a little quicker."
the woman on screen demonstrates the pattern once a bit quicker, with jinx following carefully. she counts one two three, one two three in her head, over and over. it repeats again quicker, then once more- up until she says it's at a "realistic pace." but it's when the tutorial gets to said realistic pace that she's finding herself putting the wrong foot forward, then stepping sideways with her right instead of her left, getting her directions fucked up. shit.
it's a beginner step, how is she getting it this wrong? she rewinds the video again and again, trying to match the pace the instructor sets each time. but jinx is tripping over her own feet and has to sweep aside her braids more times than she can count to avoid stepping on them. if she's struggling this much with a simple box step, she dreads the thought of anything more than that.
"damn it, damn it," jinx curses under her breath. how is she supposed to show up to a formal a horrible dancer?
but with almost half an hour of repeating the sequence, essentially burning it into both her mind and muscles, she gets it. her rhythm is far from perfect and she has to look down at her feet to avoid getting tripped up, but it's a start. a deep exhale escapes her, then she moves to the next section of the video.
"now, we're going to move on to the natural turn. it's exactly what it sounds like; a seamless, natural way to turn yourself and your partner at the same time. we're going to be using the same steps we just learned, but rotate them."
"okay, okay. you've got this, jinx."
the camera then zooms out to show the instructor again, demonstrating the same box sequence they'd just gone over. "step forward with your left foot, just as before. though this time, you'll want to turn your body about an eighth to the right. when you step together, turn to three eighths."
she does the same box step sequence while trying to follow the instructions, but then has to crane her head over her shoulder to see what's being shown- damn it, how does anyone manage this? as the instructions keep going, telling her to complete the first half of the turn with a closing step and start the other half going backwards, jinx finds herself barely being able to focus.
because truth be told, the girl could give less of a shit about slow dancing. too uptight, too fancy, but it's a means to an end. you asked her to this event, you want to have a good night, so naturally you'll want to dance. she can't step onto the floor with you and just.. not know how. the thought of disappointing you outweighs any of the notions she holds about technique.
"and we're finished the natural turn! now remember, your partner will have to do the same thing on their end, so you'll end up switching spots. but with practice and trust, you'll get there much sooner than you think."
✧.*
the night of the formal comes, and it's safe to say that jinx is a right mess.
a white, long-sleeved blouse and black slacks lay on the cot. an actual suit seemed a bit too silver spoon, but jinx cringed a bit at the thought of buying a dress as well. if she was only going to wear the thing once, why drop a bunch of money?
so she'd swung by a secondhand vendor in the undercity to buy some simple clothes, yet still enough to be considered formal. a black necktie as well, to really seal it. a perfect fit on the girl's frame, but it was when she had them laid out that she noticed the blouse was wrinkled. very wrinkled.
while this usually wouldn't bother jinx, this was an event with standards. and knowing how beautiful you'd probably look, it'd be almost rude to wear something in that state. so she huffs, swinging her feet off the side of the cot to set off looking for an iron.
she looks on her workbench, underneath it, in unorganized drawers of old file cabinets, but nothing. surely she has to have one around here somewhere, right? underneath and in boxes of spare parts, underneath her cot, but her search is fruitless. until she comes across her dresser, and her gaze lasers in on a flat iron.
usually, she'd use it when her bangs aren't behaving the way she'd like them to, but it'll work. her fingers quickly grasp the cable and plug it into the wall while she turns it up to 350, and taps her foot while waiting for it to heat. once the scent of something burning hits her nostrils, she grabs the garment.
with one hand, jinx holds the fabric, and in the other the straightener. she runs the blouse between the ceramic, one section at a time as steam comes from it. slowly but surely, the wrinkles are worked out, then she repeats the same process on the sleeves.
"...that should work," she mutters to herself, then glances at the clock on her bedside table. she has an hour before she has to leave.
once jinx is changed into the ensemble, she takes a moment to look at herself in the cracked mirror. she looks different, absolutely- with a leather belt, the blouse tucked into black dress pants and cuffs buttoned up. she'd even taken the time to redo her braids, that way they looked extra neat for the night ahead.
she smeared on the same usual dark eyeshadow and the same plum lipstick as always, but spent more than a few minutes on it this time.
she turns around in the mirror, making sure the back looks alright- then she grabs the necktie from her cot. she gathers it around the collar, lining it up like she'd read about it. putting one side over the other and looping through. it falls through the first time, but after a while of grumbling under her breath and undoing the tie, jinx finally manages.
the girl gives herself one more once-over in the mirror. she takes a deep breath in, then out- her heart hammering from within her chest. if you told jinx a month ago that she'd be in a fancy getup, getting ready to take her girlfriend to a dignified event she'd laugh in your face. tell you that you're insane, and there's no way in hell that'd happen.
but here she is, anxious as can be. truth is, the second you flash her those bright eyes or your smile, jinx is a goner. you could probably get her to do just about anything if you asked nicely enough, because her biases crumble under your gaze.
she hopes that you'll like everything she's practiced- learning how to dance, she hopes you'll like the flowers, even the little sayings she'd picked up to really cement the night for you. she wants you to feel like a princess, and jinx is determined to make this night nothing short of perfect.
except that's much easier said than done.
and still, she can't help the thoughts that run through her head. what if it's not enough? what if you don't like the outfit she picked? what if she isn't cordial enough, or she says the wrong things? what if you feel like she isn't taking this seriously?
"you've got this, jinx," she mutters to her reflection, fiddling with her tie. "she'll love it. you went the whole nine yards, and- and.. she loves you, so why wouldn't she love this? you'll be fine, you'll be fine. just be yourself."
jinx runs her hand over her hair. the words do little to quell her worries, but she glances at the clock once again- and it's only ten minutes now until she's due to leave for your residence hall. no more time for paranoia.
she gives her reflection one more glance, then picks up her ticket and the bouquet of salvias to start toward the door. trying to ignore the sweat coating her palms, and the feeling of her heart in her throat.
✧.*
thump, thump, thump.
jinx puts her fist down after knocking, standing at your dorm's door. if she was anxious before, she's absolutely delirious right now. the girl wouldn't be surprised if she was shaking, because her mind is running at a million miles per hour. all that she's done for the past few days has been in anticipation for this.
then there's a rustling sound from inside, and the doorknob finally clicks open.
if there's a heaven out there, jinx is certain that she's seen it. you, in your doorway, in a floor-length dress. tulle skirt with floral appliques, the shade of the fabric complimenting your complexion perfectly. your hair done up perfectly, your makeup somehow enhancing the beauty she knows and loves. sweet, dainty drop earrings hanging from your lobes, and a matching necklace.
even a pair of heels. not too high, but enough to truly complete the outfit. you'd gotten your nails done to match the color of your dress, you look like you've stepped straight out of a fairytale.
stood there like an idiot, awestruck- damn it, jinx, say something!
"wow, you look-" she breathes out. stunning. breathtaking. divine. lovely. captivating. magnificent. angelic. gorgeous. majestic. dazzling. "...beautiful."
a little smile tugs at your lips, and you rock slightly on your heels. "thank you, baby.. so do you." you give a playful little tug at her tie, smiling at the girl's flushed expression. "you clean up real nice."
jinx clears her throat- gods dammit, she can barely stand to look directly at you because she's that anxious. with a trembling hand, she outstretches the salvias toward you. finally managing to look at you, and notice the way your eyes widen slightly at the sight of them.
"i, uh.. these are for you."
"for me?" you gasp, slowly taking the bouquet. it crinkles a bit in your hands as you turn it over. "babe, these are gorgeous.. you really didn't have to."
"sure i did. it's a dance, right?"
that feeling of elation bubbles up in her chest seeing your reaction because damn, jinx would steal a million more bouquets if it meant she'd get to see that look again.
your smile only widens, and it's not another moment before jinx feels herself being pulled into your arms. well- arm, considering one is holding the flowers. a light gasp escapes her before the girl settles into it, wrapping her arms around your waist and resting her cheek against your bare shoulder. screw the dance, just this is enough for her.
but you've already paid for tickets, and gotten this far.
"we should go," she murmurs. "'m sure your classmates are waiting on us."
"since when do you care about being on time?"
"since i agreed to go to fancy dances," she huffs, pulling back slightly. her hand rubs over your back, but she makes a gesture with her head that reads something like 'let's go.' though secretly, a little part of jinx is ecstatic that she'll get to spend a whole night with you like this. wrapped up in your embrace, getting to live a little bit of that life she's turned her nose up on for so long.
just for a night, she figures. since she was invited.
"alright," you smile, giving your girlfriend's shoulders a little squeeze. "i thought i'd get you to myself for a little longer.."
"save that for after," she quips. the girl takes your free hand, your fingers instinctively slotting together as she starts to lead you out of the dorm hall. a familiar path you've taken several times before, and somehow this time it feels different. "oh, and i already handled getting us a ride."
"hey, i said i'd pay for the uber!"
"too bad, beat ya to it."
✧.*
stepping into the venue, jinx is awestruck by just how.. opulent this place is. the formal is being held in a hotel's ballroom, only about a ten minute drive from your campus. but she sees the crystal chandeliers in the lobby and gold accents on the walls, she sees how nicely dressed even the security is. one glance around and she spots countless other couples. girls in sparkling dresses hanging off their partner's arms, a few in matching suits and donning jewelry that catches the light every time they turn just so.
a luxurious hall in piltover, of all places.
she is very, very out of her element.
but a subtle squeeze of your hand, and jinx shakes her head. she needs to get it together is what she tells herself before walking up to a table with pamphlets laid out. a smiling attendant sits before you, and jinx clears her throat before telling her both of your names.
the attendant starts to flip through the papers in front of her, a list of names- before she spots yours, and highlights it in yellow. jinx's shortly thereafter, repeating the action.
"alright, you guys are all set," she smiles, preparing little wristbands for the both of you. you each hold out one wrist for her to put them on. "the ballroom is down that hall and to the left, bathrooms are to the right. all the food and drinks are free, but anything at the bar costs. and we don't allow re-entry."
"got it, thank you," you hum, before turning away with jinx.
you both stand together for a moment, jinx still gathering all of this in. it's like she's in a state of shock, almost. but she quickly holds her arm out to you, mustering up a little smile. "shall we?"
a soft giggle escapes you, though you take her arm. "ooh, all gentlemanlike."
"you look like a princess, shouldn't i treat you like one?"
a beat before she starts walking, and you can feel heat start to rise to your cheeks because.. damn, the way jinx was just shaking a half hour ago, you wouldn't have thought she had that up her sleeve for tonight. maybe your girlfriend will surprise you tonight, after all.
somehow, the ballroom is even more extravagant than the lobby. even more crystal chandeliers, a marble dance floor, white-clothed tables to the side as well as an expansive selection of food. mostly expensive-looking pastries and finger food, but jinx would be lying if she tried to say the chocolate fountain didn't intrigue her.
at the very least, there isn't the dreaded string quartet she'd expected- just a dj booth at the front of the dance floor. this thing isn't a total snob fest. guests have already started to pour in, many chatting off to the side, claiming tables, and a sizable amount on the dance floor.
so with a little bow, and trying to stifle a laugh- jinx looks to you with a smirk. "may i have this dance?"
your eyes actually widen, and this time a genuine, dumbfounded laugh comes out. "did you seriously just ask me that?"
"i'm not repeating myself."
you roll your eyes, but nod and grip her arm a little tighter.
"yes, you may."
the dj is starting with some mindless pop, upbeat in order to get the crowd energized for the night. it's working- with groups of friends dancing together, dance circles already starting to form. from behind you can hear some girl's date belting out a line horribly-
"anyone ever tell that guy he's awful?"
there's no real rhyme or rhythm to jinx's movement, simply moving with the beat of the music. her hips sway, her footwork is all over the place. all the while you're on the exact same page, smiling over at her while you move in tandem.
"this is actually kinda fun," she huffs, reaching out for your hands. you take them, and she starts swinging the both of you around. almost enough to make you laugh, again.
"of course it is," you let go of one hand to give her a little spin, which she quickly does- giggling. "these things aren't like the uptight cocktail parties your sister gets dragged to."
"aren't they?"
"not quite," a loud whoop from another spot on the floor- "some of us know how to let loose."
jinx's smile widens, and she shakes her head in amusement. of course you'd put it that way. but the more she looks at you, dancing so freely, she feels those nerves melt away. the gentle swishing of your skirt and the sound of your laughter are things the girl wants to hold onto, as long as time will allow.
her hips move in tandem, feet all over the place. it's wild and a bit chaotic, akin to jinx herself. those little qualities that you love so dearly shining through.
sometimes she's shimmying, others she's doing a botched attempt at moonwalking while you tell her to cut that out- meanwhile you echo the attempts and pale in comparison. at least she's got that party trick.
though soon enough, the lights start to dim. the crowd settles, and the dj comes over the microphone. "we're gonna play some slower songs for the lovers out there," jinx swallows, and she feels the tension returning to her body in an instant. "get together, and dance."
this is it. this is what she'd spent nights practicing for in her workshop, grumbling to herself and worrying about your reaction. you're right there, looking at her expectantly- and damn it.
a soft, instrumental intro begins playing, and couples begin to group together on the floor. with a deep exhale, jinx places one trembling hand on your waist and reaches for your hand with the other. she feels your fingers interlace with hers, and your hand finds the shoulder. with a slow step towards you, the girl closes her eyes to brace herself.
just go for it. she won't laugh. she won't.
her left foot goes forward, just like she'd practiced a million times. your right goes back at the same time, before she steps to the side and closes that first sequence. jinx then steps back with her right, stepping to the side once again. you seem much more confident in your movements, almost like you've done this before- and she's starting to get the hang of it. maybe her efforts did pay off.
except her eyes won't leave your feet.
"is there something on the floor?"
jinx's head whips up, and she quickly shakes her head. "no, uh- no, nothing on the floor. i'm just.. trying not to step on you."
you chuckle, but give her shoulder a gentle squeeze as you keep moving along with her.
"if you do step on me, i won't be mad," you murmur, magenta eyes meeting yours. "i don't need you to be perfect."
she sighs, but gives a little nod in response. okay, she thinks to herself. relax. you're fucking this up by being so scared. you're scared over nothing.
so she keeps going. repeating that sequence, even though her palm is sweating against yours and she feels like the air's knocked out of her lungs every time she looks to you. but now that she's properly looking at you, she wonders why she was ever looking at the ground. the low light somehow brings out your features even more. every time your jewelry catches the light, it's like a beam forming around you.
you look like an angel, she can't help thinking as she starts an attempt at the turn she'd learned. stepping with her left and turning an eighth to the right- jinx can't believe that you're hers. you look like you've stepped right out of a painting, somehow both the artist and the muse.
stepping together, then stepping back with her right.. and, shit- her foot lands right on yours.
"shit, i'm so sorry-" she gasps. she immediately moves to complete that first half of the turn, looking down again to check you're okay. she's hoping to janna that you're not actually injured. "baby, it's okay, it didn't hurt-"
"of course it did," she mutters, looking back to you. "i stepped on your toes!"
"jinx, i'm serious. you'd know if you hurt me." you squeeze her hand this time, tilting your head in silent assurance. the girl is half tempted to keep arguing. press the issue, because damn it, she knew this would happen. but she doesn't want to argue with you on your big night, especially not while in the middle of dancing. "..fine."
stepping to the left, she starts the second half of the turn as her eyes return to you. that soft smile remains on your lips, so sweet and gentle. meant only for her. with a closing step, she completes the turn, and you've effectively switches places on the floor.
she can't help the smile that comes to her in return. partly because she's actually enjoying herself, and partly because she managed to pull that move off.
another few moments of simply stepping together, before you slowly pull the girl in closer. you move your arms to drape loosely around her neck, effectively pressing your bodies flush together.
her gasp is nearly louder than the music. jinx's eyes blow wide, her lips parting- but she quickly settles into the touch. her hands fumble, ghosting over your shoulders- then your hips, before settling on your waist.
seeing someone that can make an entire city cower be reduced to such a state of anxiety- all because of a girl. if only the council could see her like this.
"i really am glad you came," you murmur. "i know this isn't your scene."
her stomach does a little flip, her heart contracts within her chest. your girlfriend could cry right now, with the way you're looking at her. like she's the only girl in the world.
"of course i did.. you asked me to."
"but you didn't have to dress up or learn to dance," your lips brush jinx's jawline, undoubtedly leaving a lipstick stain in its wake. "or get me flowers, or pay for a ride.."
damn it all, your words are like a soothing balm on her restless soul. while just a few hours ago jinx was worried that she wasn't doing nearly enough..
"i wanted to," she whispers. your faces are barely an inch apart, close enough you can feel her breath on your skin. "just wanna make you happy."
"you've made me more than happy."
finally, finally- you close the barely-there distance. your lips press to jinx's, slow, soft, and firm. her eyes slip shut, and it's as if nothing matters anymore.
jinx immediately presses into the kiss. her grip on your waist tightens that slightest bit, before you pull away and lean your forehead against hers.
none of the other guests are important. no other couples, not the dj- just you and your lover, slowly swaying to the music. your own bubble that jinx wishes she'd never have to leave.
"i wish this could last forever.."
you give a little 'mhm' in response, rosy eyes meeting yours before jinx leans in to meet your lips again. a gentle rhythm, a bit more passionate this time. but there's no rush, no heat. it's a sort of comfort. that you're here, and you love her, and you're the only thing that she'll ever need.
"i love you," you whisper, against her lips. jinx's hand finds the small of your back. brushes one of your floral appliques and her voice drops an octave.
"i love you more."
"that's not possible."
"sure it is," she chuckles, cracking a little smile as she presses her lips to yours yet again.
maybe it's to shut you up. maybe it's to seal the moment in time. it doesn't matter.
you're hers, jinx is yours- and the night is young.
little rant here sorry 😵💫 but something i’ve noticed and have talked about with other writers.
i’ve noticed people complain that all they see is smut- ‘where’s the fluff? why does nobody write fluff?’
and honestly, as someone who writes both smut and fluff, it gets a little irritating. first of all, even if somebody does only write smut, what’s wrong with that? people have their strengths and niches.
but second, when people do write fluff, others don’t read it. so somebody’s lying LOL. of course that’s not to say that numbers are everything, and that’s not to say that interactions are the only thing that matters. but the majority of us here on tumblr write not only for ourselves but for the community.
so when we see smut posts doing significantly better, receiving more feedback, more comments, more appreciation, of course we’re going to want to write more of it. we supply, but we thrive based on the feedback and support of the community. in my experience, there’s not much of that when it comes to fluff. supply and demand, you know?
it just gets a bit weird to see, considering that we’re doing this on tumblr for free and out of pure passion for the things we love.
personally, i love writing smut. it’s fun, it’s challenging, it gets people’s rocks off, but i’ve always enjoyed writing fluff more because i feel as if there’s much more leeway for humanity and much more emotions. that’s what i like to portray in my writing. except i don’t write it as much as i’d like to because compared to my smut, hardly anyone reads it. and if they do, they read silently. it goes both ways.
it’s just a bit demotivating to put so much time and energy into writing thousands of words of fluff, especially when people claim they want to see more… only for next to nobody to read it.
all this to say that if you enjoy reading fluff and truly want more of it, interact with authors. a comment even as simple as ‘i loved this!’ is enough. reblog, drop requests in their inboxes to show that you want to see more.
or, better yet- if you’re that desperate and impatient for fluff, you have a keyboard. write something yourself.
Chat I've had this treatment before moving to Jinx/ only space, it was ass. Bad. Confusing. Miserable. And I love fluff💔💔 and I love lottie 💔
If you wanted somethin that's different, then prove it. Prove it that you do want to have something different on your plate. And not bc it's 'ohh cute.' or 'can't wait for the squirting zone on next chapter🤪!!'
Do show your favourite people/writers love on fluff. Even when they dont write smut or not all the time,
as either way, both have been put in the same amount of effort. Support and love will make it faster
The sudden vibrator against your clit sends a violent shudder through your body, your wrists straining against the silk ties pinning them above your head. Your thighs twitch, instinctively trying to clamp shut, but jinx is faster- her gloved fingers dig into your skin, keeping them wide open.
"Nuh-uh," she sing-songs, her voice dripping with amusement as she watches you jerk beneath her. "No closing those pretty thighs on me, toots. I wanna see you squirm."
Your breath stutters, back arching off the mattress as the vibrator presses harder against your sensitive bud. The sensation is devastating - just enough pressure to drive you insane, but not enough to send you over the edge. Jinx tilts her head, electric blue eyes gleaming with wicked delight as she turns the dial-up a notch.
"You wanna cum, don'tcha?" She coos, dragging the toy down your soaked folds before teasing it back up, slow and deliberate. "I can feel it, baby. That little pussy's just begging for it."
You whimper, nodding frantically, your fingers clenching into useless fists above your head. "Jinx, please -"
But before you can beg properly, she clicks the vibrator off.
The shock of it makes you sob, your body trembling from the sudden loss of sensation. Jinx just grins, dragging the tip of the toy lazily up your inner thigh, smearing wetness over your skin like it's nothing.
"Aww," she pouts mockingly, resting her chin on your belly as she watches you with feigned sympathy. "Did you really think I was gonna let you cum that easy?"
Jinx giggles, all wicked and sweet, watching your body tremble beneath her. The way your thighs twitch, the way your breath comes out in desperate little gasps- fuck, it's her favorite sight. You're wrecked already, and she's barely even started.
She taps the vibrator against your clit once- just a teasing bzzzt- before pulling it away again, grinning when you jolt. "Damn, baby, you're so fuckin' sensitive." She drags the toy down your slit again, just enough for you to feel the ghost of pleasure, but not enough to satisfy. "Bet I could do this all night."
"Jinx -"
"Ohhh, I know that tone," she interrupts, eyes gleaming as she watches your chest rise and fall as you try so hard to stay still. She places a gloved hand on your stomach, feeling the way it tenses under her touch. "That's your 'I'm gonna lose my shit' voice."
You tug at the silk your wrists, frustration burning in your veins. "Please, Jinx -"
She clicks the vibrator on again.
Your body jerks at the sudden sensation, your hips rolling instinctively to chase it, but jinx pulls back just before it can settle where you need it most.
"Oops," she says, smirking, eyes full of mischief. "Missed."
You whine.
Jinx let's out a low chuckle, dark and syrupy. She loves this. Loves watching you fall apart, loves the way your thighs twitch, the way your soaked pussy clenches around nothing. She flicks the vibrator against your clit in short, teasing pulses- bzzzt, bzzzt, bzzzt- never long enough to give you what you need.
"God, you're dripping," she murmurs, dragging her fingers through your slick folds. She presses the toy against you again, holding it there just long enough for the pleasure to build, your body trembling on the edge-
And then she turns it off.
A broken sob rips from your throat.
Jinx moans at the sound, biting her lips as she looks at you with pure, sadistic delight. "You sound so fuckin' pretty when you beg," she breathes, tilting her head, blue hair falling in wild strands around her face.
Your head lolls to the side, your whole body burning with frustration. "I hate you," you pant, voice wrecked.
Jinx grins, leaning down until her lips brush your ear. "You love me," she purrs, slipping two fingers inside you with no warning, curling them just right.
Your back arches violently, a gasp tearing from your lips -
And just as quickly as she started, she pulls away.
You nearly scream.
Jinx cackles, sitting back on her heels, toying with the vibrator like she's debating what to do next. "You're gonna cum when I say," she says sweetly, licking her lips as she watches you shudder. "And not a second before."
Then she flicks the vibrator back on this time at the highest setting.
And fuck, you're in for a long night.
The moment the vibrator roars to life at its highest setting, your whole body convulses, a strangled moan ripping from your throat. It's too much after so much teasing, too intense, and yet your body welcomes it, desperate, starved for release. Your legs try to snap shut again, but jinx grabs your thighs, nails digger in just enough to make you gasp.
"Ohhh, look at you," she coos, watching you with rapt attention, blue eyes blown wide with lust. The toy circles your clit, firm relentless. "You’re so close, aren'tcha? I can feel it-" she slides two fingers back inside you, curling them just right to press against that sweet spot. "Bet you wanna cum so bad."
Your answer is a wrecked whimper, your hands clenched into fists above your head, back arching off the bed. "Jinx- please -"
But just as your orgasm starts to cresr- right there, right fucking there- she pulls away.
The vibrator switches off. Her fingers disappear.
And you scream.
A garbled mess of frustration tumbles from your lips, half a sob, half a curse. Your body shakes, every muscle drawn tight, your soaked pussy clenching around nothing. Your mind is dizzy with need, pleasure teetering on the very edge, so close yet completely untouchable.
Jinx laughs. Actually laughs like she's enjoying this, like she's never had more fun than watching you suffer.
"Ohhh, babe," she purrs, tapping the vibrator against your twitching clit in short little bursts. Bzzzt- bzzzt. "That's gotta hurt. How many times is that now? Five? Six?" She tilts her head as if she's actually counting, tapping a finger against her lip in mock concentration. "God, I lost track. But you still haven't cum, huh?"
You let out a wrecked whimper, legs trembling as you try to gring against anything, desperate for friction. Your mind is foggy, clouded with unbearable need. "Jinx," you rasp, "please, I-I can't -"
Jinx leans in, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispers, "You can."
She nips at your neck, grinning against your skin. "You will."
Them, without warning-
BZZZZZZZ.
The vibrator slams back against your clit at full power, and your whole body seizes. Your arms yank at the silk ties, your legs trembling, breath coming out in choked little sobs.
"Ohhh, fuck yeah," Jinx moans, watching you convulse. "Look at you- so fuckin' pretty like this. All needy and desperate and mine."
Her fingers slide back inside you, deep, curling just right, pressing against that spot that makes your toes curl. The combination of the relentless vibrations and the stretch of her fingers makes your vision blur, your entire world narrowing down to this overwhelming, unbearably pleasure.
And then she does something cruel.
She pulls back slightly, let's your orgasm hover on the edge again, watching as you twitch and gasp and shake, so close, so desperate -
And then-
She slams the vibrator against you harder, fingers fucking into you deep and fast-
And you break.
Your orgasm hits you like a fucking tidal wave, violent and unforgiving, crashing over you so hard your entire body seizes. A strangled screams rips from your throat as pleasure detonates inside you, so intense it's almost too much, your mind going blank as white- hot ecstasy overtakes every nerve in your body.
Jinx doesn't stop.
She doesn't stop.
The vibrator stays pressed to your overstimulated clit, her fingers still pumping into you, pushing you through it, dragging it out longer and longer, making your body convulse, making your voice break, making you sob from the sheer intensity of it.
"Fuuuck," Jinx groans, biting her lips as she watches you completely fall apart. "That's it, baby. That's what I wanted to see."
You're barely conscious by the time it finally stops. The vibrator clicks off, her fingers slip out of you, and you collapse onto the bed, utterly wrecked.
Jinx grins, climbing up your trembling body, her lips pressing against your sweat- slicked forehead. "See?" She purrs. "Told ya you could take it."
And as your body still twitches from aftershocks, as your mind struggles to recover from the most intense orgams of your life.
Jinx leans down, lips brushing against your ear, and whispers,
a fluffy follow-up to my other (angsty) fleetwood mac songfic. the stories aren’t related, just wanted to do something to make up for that one </3
based on ‘you make loving fun’ by fleetwood mac
summary; jinx has never seen herself loving. it wasn’t in the cards for her, and she wasn’t sure she even could- but you make it easy.
characters included; jinx
tags/warnings; fluff, lots of fluff, sliiiiight hurt/comfort, internal monologue, more a collection of scenarios instead of one continuous story, jinx is so in love
men dni.
from the beginning, jinx has been taken with you.
you start off as simple friends, having bumped into each other on a busy zaun street. jinx was on her way back from running an errand for silco, and you were at an outdoor vendor stall in search of new clothes. something other than the torn-up rags you’ve been wearing since you were fourteen.
you caught her eye, though she's rarely been the one to approach people. staying to herself is safer; strangers are trouble. especially in zaun. powder had friends, but jinx didn't. still, she couldn't stop herself from approaching you. it was out of mere curiosity, instinct even. some kind of magnetic pull.
jinx stands behind you, though when the vendor asks if there's anything she'd like to look at, she waves them off. she's watching you, silently, seeing your fingers brush over various fabrics and finished garments. but when the girl notices your gaze lingering on a skirt, she sees an opportunity.
"did you want that one?" she askes, pointing a finger. you gasp a bit, startled- but nod slowly. "uh.. yeah, i was looking at it."
"i'll take care of it."
before you can begin to protest, jinx is digging around in both pockets. all she has is a few crumpled up bills and change, but it would be enough to cover that skirt. she doesn't even know your name, and she's insisting on buying you a gift. before you can think, she's paid the vendor.
"i- i can pay you back for that," you breathe out, but the girl is quick to shake her head. "no need."
but in a place like this, where nothing is free, you find it hard to believe that silco's daughter of all people didn't want anything in return. she's pretty, you think, her long blue braids suit her perfectly. a light dust of freckles over her nose, shining blue eyes, blue cloud tattoos that seem to cover most of her right side. she's charming, in her own unconventional way.
"surely there's something i can do."
jinx places her hands on her hips, pursing her lips for a moment in thought. then those lips curl into a coy grin, and she nods to herself.
"you could go out with me. how's that sound?"
"like.. a date?"
jinx nods once again, flippant. she's definitely forward, and it draws you in even more.
"yeah, a date. you doing anything tomorrow night?"
you shake your head in response. nerves take you a bit, but this sounds exciting. a date. how long had it been since you'd been on one of those?
"great! we can plan something, alright, pretty girl?"
pretty girl. heat rises to your cheeks, though nonetheless the two of you exchange contact information in order to set up plans. possibly chat from there, maybe get to know each other better. it's oddly thrilling. and once all is said and done, you look back to the skirt slung over your arm.
"thank you, jinx. i'll uh.. see you tomorrow."
✧.*
jinx knew she loved you before you were even official.
she's just gotten back from your third date, and she hasn't stopped smiling since. the girl lays back on her cot with a dramatic sigh, she can't stop the events of this evening from replaying in her head.
you took her to a secluded rooftop on the outskirts of zaun. somehow, she wasn't familiar with this one, which made it all the more exciting. you brought some homemade sandwiches, a few snacks you'd picked up from a convenience store, a sort of makeshift picnic.
by the time both of you were finished climbing stairs to get there, the sun was beginning to set over zaun's skyline. she sat down near the edge, right beside you. close enough that your thighs were touching, and jinx could lean her head on your shoulder if she so wished. she did, but truth is, you made her nervous.
jinx doesn't get nervous. she doesn't do mushy stuff, always cringed at the thought of 'love at first sight' and 'soul bonds.' that stuff belongs in children's books, and has no place in the real world. her mind is starting to change.
she was pulled out of her thoughts by you lightly nudging her side with her elbow, holding out a cling foil-wrapped sandwich with your free hand. she looked down, a bit incredulously- when was the last time she'd had anything homemade for her? most of her diet consisted of cheap takeout and freezer meals.
the girl murmured a small "thanks," before taking the food and taking a bite. whatever you'd put in this, it's good, and the bread is exactly the right texture. she let out a hum of satisfaction. it's just a stupid sandwich, but it's not even just that.
it's the fact that you took the time to plan this, timed it just right so you'd catch the sunset, made her food, bought snacks you thought she'd like, and you were smiling so gently at the sight of her. looking at her like she's worth something, like she's something precious.
"good?"
she swallowed the final bite, nodding quickly. "yeah, really good. you're a good cook."
"i made that in five minutes," you chuckled, shaking your head. "but thank you."
the girl shrugged, but she didn't reach into your bag for any of the extras you brought. you quirked an eyebrow, looking to your bag then her. "full already?"
"mm.. yeah. had some cup noodles before i left."
typical. you couldn't help the amused scoff that escaped you, but you looked back out to the setting sun. the sky was cast in hues of pink and orange, and although it's no secret zaun's pollution is awful, you're grateful you have sights like this. jinx rested her head on your shoulder, heart thrumming in her chest.
"it's beautiful out here," you murmured, leaning your head against hers. "i've been wanting to show you. i dunno.. makes me think of you. the sunsets."
her breath caught in her chest. the simple fact that you're thinking of her and already associating things with her like that? she didn't even know how to begin processing that feeling, but it was a good one.
"..yeah, it's pretty. can't believe i've never been here."
"i thought you knew the undercity like the back of your hand," you chided.
"i do," she huffs, a light smile tugging at her lips. "doesn't mean i have every nook and cranny memorized."
you knew that, but couldn't help teasing. she felt as if she could let loose around you, have a laugh and just breathe. jinx was silco's daughter, one of the most feared- or respected, depending on persuasion- criminals in valoran. but you had no expectations of her, you just saw her. it's a foreign feeling, as are much of the feelings she gets while around you.
it felt like some kind of spell that's been cast over the two of you, and jinx hoped that it would never break.
"so much for being zaun's princess."
that time she actually laughed, a hearty sound. she wasn't meaning to, but-
"who the hell is calling me that?!"
you couldn't help laughing along with her, nudging her with your elbow once again. "a lot of people! mostly the kids, though. they think you're awesome."
"mm, yeah.. can't fault them there. i am pretty awesome."
there was a moment of silence, both comfortable and lighthearted before you sighed and spoke up. your tone was a bit softer this time, a shift to something more serious.
"what are you looking for? like.. in a relationship?"
the question took her off guard- clearly, as she took her head off your shoulder and looked straight at you with furrowed brows.
"uh.. what do you mean?"
"i mean.. we've been going on these dates, and flirting, but what are you hoping to get out of this? something long-term, or is it just fun?"
damn. jinx hadn't really thought of that. of course she was having fun with you, she wouldn't keep going out with you if she wasn't. but the fact she had asked you on that first date at all was done out of instinct, spontaneously.
jinx doesn't do attachments. not like she used to. she'd been living alone for the last seven years, and she expected to die alone. and she wasn't afraid of that either, just accepted it as simple fact. but now, she has someone who genuinely cares for her. who gives time and energy like it's nothing, laughs with her, challenges her. makes her feel things she didn't think she was even capable of. she was certain it had to be love.
she hasn't had something this good in ages, and it doesn't feel real. your kindness is like a sledgehammer to the walls she's spent years constructing. jinx doesn't feel like she deserves this, you're much too good for her- but she'd be an idiot to let go of it. because no matter which way she looked at it, this was real.
you could wake up the next day and decide you're done with her. you could stand her up, or leave her for somebody else. as much as the thought pained her, she wanted to take a leap of faith.
"i want something long-term," she murmurs. "..something real. like, so real we spend our lives together and all that mushy stuff."
that seemed to be the right answer, seeing the way your eyes softened and the smile returned to your face. you reached out to take her hand, slowly intertwining your fingers.
"good. i want that too."
and jinx let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. you want the exact thing she wants, and again, the girl can't help thinking this is too good to be true.
jinx has never believed in miracles, but she wants to try.
so she leant in, closing the distance between you both. a gentle brush of her lips against yours, the sun now fully set, and her heart stuttered when you leaned into it. wrapped your arms around her waist, and let out a low hum against her.
jinx is nearly kicking her feet at just the thought. that kiss. she swears her lips are still tingling afterward, and she can still taste your chapstick. it's late, she's got an early job tomorrow, but why the hell would she want to sleep now? when she could be planning your next date and making trinkets for you?
now that she's in, she's all in. it's scary, but part of her finds this kind of fun.
✧.*
in the days, weeks, following silco's death, jinx was a right mess. that's putting it lightly.
you'd comforted her through all of it. gave the girl space when she needed it, held her through trembling sobs when it felt like the world was closing in on her. whispered soft, sweet reassurances when she couldn't believe anything good about herself.
jinx wasn't entirely sure she believed your words either, but they were comforting nonetheless. the fact you agreed to be with her, that you wanted to be her girlfriend despite all of her inner (and outer) turmoil was astounding.
but after nearly a month and a half of this, the swinging pendulum that is jinx's emotional state, you've convinced her to go out. do something that doesn't involve explosives, shimmer, or running from enforcers. you got her concert tickets.
she dressed up for it too, with your help dusting her eyelids with silver glitter and painting pouty lips with a wine red. a striped long-sleeve shirt under a lace cami, with a denim miniskirt and fishnets. she always looks beautiful, but you could've sworn your heart stopped for a second when you saw her step out in those clothes.
it's a local band, but still with a large enough following that they managed to sell out the venue. and knowing jinx, she wants barricade. she wants to be front and center, and is determined to do so- so you've left thirty minutes early.
at least, what you thought was thirty minutes early.
"i hope i can get a set list," she says, walking through the lanes towards a slightly less run-down part of zaun. her hand is grasping yours, and your girlfriend- yes, girlfriend, has a genuine smile on her face. how you've missed that sight. "imagine if we catch the band after and they sign it!"
you squeeze her hand for a moment, shooting a wide smile back at her. the girl lets out a sigh, and reaches into her pocket to gaze at her ticket almost reverently. she needs this release.
"if we get barricade, i'm sure we'll get one."
and then her dark brows furrow, and she frowns, stopping in her tracks.
"..uh, babe?"
"yeah?"
"you said the doors open at 8, right?"
you quirk an eyebrow, but nod. you could've sworn the confirmation email said doors at 8, show at 8:30.
"yeah, they open at 8," you affirm, nodding to the ticket in her hand. "it should say right there."
she huffs, then holds it in front of you. and it reads-
doors: 7:30. show: 8:00.
your eyes widen. with the distance you are from the venue, and the pace you're walking at, you'll be lucky if you get behind a shorter person in the back. but maybe, if you're quick enough-
without a second thought, your hand is tightening around jinx's and you start running. practically dragging her along. a soft gasp escapes her at the movement, and her legs can barely keep up.
"shit- toots, what the fuck?!" she yelps, almost tripping on a braid trying to keep up with you.
"we can still get there in time for barricade, we just gotta run!"
she huffs, though she's finally able to match your pace. jinx is a good runner, but damn if she wasn't caught off guard. though as you keep going, jinx can't help the wide smile that spreads across her face. she lets out bubbling laugh, and is soon joined by your own laughter.
the streets of zaun are filled with squeals and giggles as the two of you make your way to the venue, causing heads to turn. neither of you pay any mind.
"you're insane, you know that?"
"you love it!" you giggle, and she only responds with another bout of laughter.
within minutes, you can see the venue in the distance. there's still a bit of a line, but it's moving- probably the last people to pour in before they hit capacity. you're among them. it only heights your drive because damn it, your girlfriend needs this. she's needed a pick-me-up for the past six weeks.
you're both bolting toward the line, finally arriving with a sudden halt. there's not many people left- a short line, but at what cost? you're both panting and jinx has one hand over her rapidly beating heart.
"could've warned me," she huffs out, a breathless chuckle.
"you still want that set list, don't you?"
jinx groans in response, but nods as she smooths down her skirt. you both take out your tickets then, preparing to present them to the usher. you're given stamps on the back of your hands, then waved off into a crowded venue.
too crowded. this place is basically elbow to elbow. there's already a line wrapping around the merch table, boisterous laughter coming from the bar and alarmingly long lines for the bathrooms.
"did you want any merch?"
"maybe, but," jinx points to the line, rolling her eyes dramatically. "i don't want it that bad."
fair enough, you suppose. at least you offered. she's been to this venue before, and you've only ever passed it, so jinx is the one to guide you into the main room with a stage and floor. it's already packed to the back, and the road crew is setting the stage for what's to come.
you groan at the sight, because of course this happened. it was a complete oversight on your part, but if you just double checked the tickets, this wouldn't have happened. before you can apologize though, jinx turns her head to you with a sly grin.
"i know a trick," she drawls, and starts dragging you through the sea of people. she puts on her best 'polite' voice, as proper as jinx can get, and almost sweetly asks- "could i get in front of you? sorry, i can't really see the stage."
then to another stranger, and another, and another. using her height to her advantage- you didn't expect it, but you're absolutely not surprised. she scoffs after each person, looking back at you with a knowing smile. slowly moving forward in the crowd.
until you're at barricade.
✧.*
jinx tries to do nice gestures for you. keyword is tries.
you wake up to the smell of something burning. it takes a moment to register, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes with a fist. maybe it's just jinx tinkering, you think. she uses that blowtorch like no tomorrow, and it isn't uncommon to blow a fuse.
but as you blink your eyes open, you realize that this doesn't smell like smoke from a faulty cable or blowtorch. it smells different, and your immediate thought after that is that there's an actual fire in the hideout. your legs swing over the side of the cot before you can think, and you're sprinting toward the source of the smell.
jinx's kitchenette. she's stood with her back facing you as if nothing's going on, and you notice grey smoke coming from whatever the girl is cooking. janna help you.
"jinx, honey," you start, your voice an almost warning. "wanna explain what's going on?"
"i'm cooking," she states, not even turning to face you. you let out a sound between a scoff and a laugh.
"yeah, i can see that. i'm asking why there's so much smoke."
"oh. uh.. i dunno."
clearly you won't be able to get an answer like this, you should've figured. you step to the side to try and get a glance at what jinx is making, but she's a step ahead. she follows suit and effectively blocks your view.
"let me see what's going on," you huff.
"no," she says, still stepping to the side with you. back and forth, almost like some dance. the girl is determined, you'll give her that. "it's a surprise!"
so you do the next best thing you can think of- look over jinx's shoulder. she's got a frying pan out with two.. vaguely triangular objects in it, black and charred.
"jeez, jinx, what the hell did you do?" you sigh.
she grumbles a bit under her breath, before finally turning to face you. her lips are twisted into a frown as she folds her arms over her chest.
"i was trying to make you breakfast! french toast, cause you like that stuff so much, but.." she points to the still-burning pan. "something went wrong."
you feel a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself, and shake your head in mild amusement. this was all an effort to do something sweet for you- a gesture of jinx's affection. you'd thank her right now, if it weren't for the fact smoke is nearly clouding your vision. your first move is to switch off the knobs on her gas stove, then to take the frying pan.
"hey, what are you-"
"throwing this out."
she gasps, and immediately runs to block the trashcan with her arms out. "you can't do that!"
you let out a light chuckle, and push past your girlfriend anyways. you push it open, then empty what was once bread into the trash.
"babe, you couldn't have saved that. you burnt it to a crisp."
she lets out a dramatic groan, then mumbles something incoherent under her breath- which you won't press for. but it's amusing nonetheless, and you have to hold back a laugh. she's too cute. you take the pan off the stove, then find an oven mitt to put under it on the counter. at least you can save that.
then you make your way to the mini-fridge, and pull out a container of french toast you'd already made the previous day.
"i already made this," you smile, placing your free hand on your hip. "i was just gonna warm it up this morning."
jinx's brows furrow, and she immediately crosses her arms over her chest with a pout. "doesn't matter! i was just trying to do something nice."
and that statement tugs at your heartstrings, of course she was. to you, jinx already does so much. she gives you her time and energy, even when she's busy with jobs. she fusses over your injuries, even when she's not in the best shape herself. she's constantly going out of her way, making you gifts, calling you late at night, texting you updates all throughout the day- all to make you feel loved. even doing things she's evidently not the greatest at, just to see a smile on your face.
"i know you were," you murmur, voice softening. you step forward to cradle jinx's cheeks, even through that adorable pout. "and i love that you were. i appreciate it a lot."
she grumbles still, but can't resist leaning into your touch.
"i tried.. i used your recipe and everything." another hit to your heart, but you try to muster a reassuring smile as one of your thumbs starts to stroke her cheek. "i know, baby. i'm happy you even thought to do that."
jinx sighs, pulling back a little to grab the container from the counter.
"at least let me warm this up."
your smile widens, and you nod.
"knock yourself out."
so she walks to her microwave and puts in the container, setting it to thirty seconds as to not burn it this time around. the girl grabs a paper plate from the detached wooden cabinets she has, some syrup and some butter from the fridge. when the microwave beeps, she's quick to spread some butter over top the toast and drown it in syrup. but jinx sees you watching from behind, and gestures with her head to her table.
"sit down! shoo!"
a bubbling laugh comes from you at the prospect. she's taking this so seriously, though you do as you're told. tenting her hands in front of you while she hands you the plate, and a bottle of apple juice.
"thank you," you hum, immediately starting to cut it into small pieces. the moment the taste hits your tongue, a low hum of satisfaction escapes you- damn. it's no wonder this is your favorite, it never gets old. your girlfriend takes a seat opposite you, watching almost anxiously.
"good?"
"yeah," you smile, nodding. you're the one who made it, technically, but you'll humor her. "really good, baby. thank you."
jinx breaks into a wide grin finally, and she squeals in excitement. this is all she's wanted all morning, even if there were a few bumps in the road. holy shit, she's adorable.
before you can think, you're leaning across the table to connect your lips to hers. slow and gentle, her eyes widen just a bit- and she quickly settles into it. before pulling back with a groan.
"i love y-"
"ugh, your lips are sticky!"
"you're the one who gave me all that syrup!"
she rolls her eyes, frowning. but the side of you that finds jinx utterly adorable like this is rearing its head today, so you press your lips to jinx's cheeks, then her forehead, then the tip of her nose, and she's giggling.
"hey, stop that!"
"nope, you're too cute like this," you giggle, continuing to pepper your lips across her face. "come on, you love it!"
Okay this might be weird but could you write arcane women with a girlfriend that struggles to drink water, like arcane women taking care of someone who needs a lot of hydration but hates drinking. Kinda bratty reader .
Xoxo
thank you for the request! <3
honestly these ‘weird’ requests (which it absolutely isn’t weird) are really fun to write, they kinda push me out of my comfort zone :) so i appreciate them!!
summary; arcane women with a girlfriend who struggles to drink water.
✧.* honestly, she’s right there with you. i don’t think jinx makes it a habit to drink much of anything at all, especially not water. partially because she’s stubborn, and partially because it’s hard to come by clean drinking water in the undercity.
✧.* most of what jinx drinks is carbonated, likely some kind of fanta, monster, mountain dew. but she’s always been a bit hypocritical, wanting to keep your health a priority while hers is on the back burner.
✧.* that’s not to say she neglects herself, but jinx will tell you to just get a damn drink of water while she hasn’t had any in days.
✧.* “toots, it’s hot,” she’ll stress, hands on her hips. “something’s gotta give. just bring a water bottle or two.” but you’re stubborn, just as quick with words as your girlfriend is.
✧.* “when’s the last time you had water?” jinx almost gasps in response, but she knows exactly how you are by now. “that’s not important!”
✧.* she gets worried, of course- you’re her girlfriend, the most important person in her life, and you’re depriving yourself of water! jinx feels it’s her responsibility to make sure you’re properly taken care of, even if you do like to put up a fight.
✧.* so jinx uses a dirty trick: bribery. she’ll tell you that you’ll get to kiss her, but only if you finish that bottle of water on her workbench. she’ll let you come over tonight, but only if you pick up a case of water bottles on the way.
✧.* you could go in for a kiss, even just on the cheek- but your girlfriend would turn her head away and give a short laugh. “when’s the last time you drank anything, huh?” she’d hum, and you’d roll your eyes in response. “what’s it matter to you?” “ooh, someone’s feisty.. still not getting a kiss until you get some water!”
✧.* you both know damn well what she’s doing, but it’s a fun little game the two of you have started to play. you’ll give in, because she’s jinx, and jinx gets the satisfaction of knowing you’re at least somewhat hydrated. it’s a win-win.
vi;
✧.* vi honestly doesn’t understand. she does find it to be part of your usual charm, the stubbornness and fire in your spirit showing through in something as simple as the refusal to drink water. but she doesn’t get why.
✧.* vi hasn’t had clean water a lot of her life, so she’s learned to never take it for granted. and it’s not even that you are taking it for granted, it’s that you simply don’t want it. even though you both know you need it.
✧.* vi is a lover to her core, and she wants only the best for you. that means fussing over you throughout all of your stubbornness and protests, no matter how many times you tell her “i don’t need it” or “i’m not a baby, you don’t need to do all this.”
✧.* “come on,” vi would urge, holding out a bottle she got from topside to you. she watches as you turn your nose up once again, making a little ‘hmph’ noise. “it’s just water, babe. not gonna hurt you.”
✧.* vi tries just plain asking you several times, but that evidently isn’t working. your willpower is both admirable and frustrating. so instead, she starts using alternative methods, nothing like bribery- but she’ll use flavoring, maybe get some fun ice trays. it’s a bit of a childish approach, but she doesn’t have better ideas.
✧.* but to her surprise, it works. at least by a little bit. “got you something,” she hums, holding up a water bottle- but the water is pink instead of clear. “it’s- what the hell did you do to it?” “got some flavor packs. so instead of water, it’ll taste more like pink lemonade.”
✧.* while you’re hesitant, you can’t deny that your curiosity is piqued. and you also can’t help feeling bad that vi’s gone through the trouble of getting flavor packs just so you’ll drink some water.
✧.* so you try, and you end up liking it! of course the flavor isn’t as strong as actual pink lemonade, but it’s still much better than plain water. vi is proud of herself for finding a method that works, and more than anything, she’s glad that you’re getting the hydration you need.
mel;
✧.* mel’s hydration is part of her routine, she’s the type to drink around a gallon every day. so she understands how important hydration is.
✧.* she’s a little confused as to why you’re so adamant to not drink water, opting for carbonated drinks or juices for the most part. even though she tries to explain how important it is for your health and energy, it’s as if her words go in one ear and out the other.
✧.* she does try to get you to drink different types of water, seeing as she has access to several kinds. sparkling water, spring water, the expensive kinds that companies swear are better than generic bottled water. but she’s only met with more protests.
✧.* you push the bottles away, a little pout on your face. “it’s all the same,” you huff. you sound almost petulant. “i don’t care what fancy labels they slap on it, i’m not gonna drink it.”
✧.* and your girlfriend truly does care. she feels a sort of responsibility. you’re an adult, you can take care of yourself, but she’s your partner. making sure you’re healthy and happy is important.
✧.* so what mel does instead is tries to push foods she knows have high water contents. she’s a good cook and does enjoy cooking for you- so all of a sudden celery is in your dishes, extra tomatoes, bell peppers. and she’s a damn good cook, so you happily take what she’s given you and don’t suspect a thing.
✧.* “here,” she smiles, holding out a ceramic bowl to you. “it’s warm out, so i thought this might help cool you down.” it’s fruit salad. strawberries, bananas, cantaloupe, watermelon. you take it and eat it happily, all while mel knows you’ve taken the bait. she can keep a secret, you don’t have to know what she’s doing.
sevika;
✧.* sevika is either the perfect or worst match for your attitude, depending on how you take it. while you’re stubborn and make excuse after excuse, sevika is a very no-nonsense woman.
✧.* “i’m not drinking it,” you huff, pushing away the bottle in sevika’s outstretched hand. “it’s nasty, i don’t need it!” but sevika just huffs, letting out a heavy exhale through her nose. “you’re making this a lot harder than it has to be.”
✧.* and while she tries not to let it show, sevika does become a bit frustrated at times. clean drinking water isn’t easy to come by in zaun, especially not in the lanes, so she’s learned to not take it for granted. she doesn’t think you’re taking it for granted necessarily, but she’s not sure why you’re not taking advantage of what she’s trying to give you.
✧.* but she turns that frustration into drive to get you to finally get some water. she turns to bribery, starting off with simple favors and eventually leading into affectionate gestures.
✧.* “three bottles, and i’ll fold your laundry,” sevika hums, wearing that signature quirk of her eyebrow. “…just fold it?” “fine. i’ll put it away too.” you take a moment to think it over, it’s a good offer, a tempting one. a beat, and you take a bottle from her outstretched hand. “you’re good at this bargaining thing.”
✧.* sevika works her way up to more affectionate bribes, but she also ups the stakes by having you drink more water. that way you’re actually hydrated, not just halfway there. “two more bottles, and i might consider a kiss.” she watches your face twist into a frown, but it’s an irresistible offer. “…that’s not fair, sev.” “never said it was.”
✧.* is it a bit dishonest? maybe, but you’re both getting what you want out of it. sevika’s always been good at negotiating.
caitlyn;
✧.* caitlyn understands to an extent. she’s not a big fan of water, usually opting for some kind of tea or juice. she does drink enough to stay hydrated, she’s conscious of her health- but it isn’t her first choice.
✧.* what caitlyn doesn’t understand is why you refuse it full stop, because you do know that your body needs it. you do know that soon enough, you could start experiencing symptoms of dehydration if you haven’t already.
✧.* she’s noticed frequent headaches, to which she always says, “drink some water, it’ll help.” but you just shake your head, letting out a heavy sigh. “it’s got nothing to do with water.” “it has plenty to do with water.”
✧.* caitlyn does try to straight up ask you to drink water and offer you different brands/variations, but you push it away every single time. she’s both frustrated and amused, your willpower is admirable if nothing else.
✧.* so she takes the approach of giving you foods that are rich in water, especially fruit. watermelon is her go-to since it’s so dense, but strawberries are also a favorite. even if it’s not the healthiest and she’s baking them into strawberry shortcake, you’re getting something.
✧.* “why so much watermelon?” you ask, glancing at your girlfriend between bites. “piltover’s heat is brutal,” true. “i just wanted to help you cool down.” partially true.
✧.* caitlyn isn’t the type to bribe, not usually. but she is a fairly good cook, so she uses that to her advantage. due to her status and standing in piltover, she has access to a lot of fresh produce those in the undercity might not. she makes good on this, because she truly does care.
seldom does mel medarda have a day off. when she does, she makes sure to savor every moment of it.
so when she found out the both of you had the same day free- totally, with no hidden catches or distractions, she started planning something for the both of you to do together. she’d take you out to downtown piltover, where most upscale shops resided and she knew your favorite restaurants were.
“your choice,” she’d told you. “it’s been ages since we’ve had an entire twenty-four hours to ourselves.”
so you’d found yourselves at a few of piltover’s establishments, sniffing candles together despite not planning to buy any. perusing jewelry together- to which mel did end up buying you a charm bracelet.
“this isn’t necessary,” you protested, though there was still a bit of a smile on your face. mel’s selflessness knows no bounds, and you know how much she loves gift giving. especially when it comes to you. “i already have plenty of jewelry.”
“ah, but this is unique,” the woman countered. “charms for all of our outings, each destination we’ve been to.. like a collection of memories you can wear.”
well, when she put it like that- you couldn’t argue much. the metal is beautiful, piltover’s charm is a blue gear that has a chrome finish. it’d be like she said, a sort of travel diary in a bracelet.
"fine. but only if i get you one as well."
"it's a done deal."
soon thereafter, she'd taken you to an upscale restaurant in the city, overlooking a pier on the bridge. an outdoor seating area, the subtle movements of water a soothing melody. mel looked dashing, she always does. but the sun hitting her green eyes like that, and her skin seeming to glow, you found yourself wondering how you'd gotten so lucky.
"i've never been here," a wary confession, though you've always trusted your girlfriend's judgement.
"i wasn't sure you had, but it's a great place."
the woman pulled out a chair, met with a smile by you- and then sat herself opposite you.
"i wouldn't have taken you if i didn't think you'd love it. trust me, darling."
the both of you talked about anything and everything. business with the council, the egregious amount of paperwork sitting on her desk, the messy situation with your extended family, a family of cats you'd seen walking home one night. one of the things you've always loved about mel is just how easy it is to talk to her, how much she listens and genuinely cares. talking about something as mundane as release forms she needed to sign seemed like the most interesting thing in the world.
and like she said, the food was incredible. your eyes widened in a mixture of surprise and delight after taking the first bite of your food, a sight mel relished in. halfway at how cute you are, and halfway because she knew she was right.
"good?"
"really good," you confirmed, taking a second to swallow. "you really do know all the best spots, huh?"
mel gave a toothy grin, not quite digging into her own food yet. she slowly reached across the table for your hand, which you accepted and she promptly squeezed. an unspoken declaration of love, before she withdrew and picked up her own fork. if it weren't for the image she needed to maintain and the fact you were in public, you would've jumped across the table to kiss her then and there.
"it's my duty as a councilwoman, we know the city inside and out."
"i can see that," you'd chuckled. "you're doing a good job of it."
"ah, flattery will get you everywhere."
✧.*
it's been a day of shared glances, charged touches, silent praises. you step into the living room of your shared home, mel immediately trailing behind you. you kick off your shoes beside her sofa, then reach for the lapels of your coat- but feel soft hands over yours.
"let me get that for you," she murmurs, easing your hands away and slowly stripping you of the garment. "you've already done so much today."
you let her, but give an amused roll of your eyes at her comment.
"hardly. i've just been following you around all day."
"which is a lot," she hums, her lips brushing your temple while the coat is tossed somewhere over her couch.
moonlight shines through the window, and her hands find your waist. yours wrap around her neck, loose and sweet- the gentle white glow shining over art on the walls and making her look like some kind of goddess. she always has been, at least to you.
"you're beautiful," you whisper, looking into her eyes- but still keeping some kind of distance between the two of you. "i tell you that all the time, but gods, it's true."
mel's glossed lips tug into a soft smile, her gaze filled with unspoken affection. one hand squeezes your waist, while the other comes to thread through your hair, and she closes that distance.
"you're beautiful."
"do you have any idea just how painful it was not to do this all day?"
"i can't believe you're mine."
all reverent words against your lips, murmured between kisses like a sort of prayer. they start off soft and tender, the kind of fleeting affection shared as greeting. but it quickly turns more heated, with mel guiding you toward her sofa and beginning to move her lips against yours. her breath quickens, the same way your heart begins to thud in her chest as her tongue swipes the seam of your lips in a silent request for access.
you immediately allow her in, arms tightening around her ever so slightly. her tongue meets yours, reverently as her grip on your hair tightens. mel is a patient woman, she is. but when it comes to you, her restraint is near nonexistent.
"i want you," she breathes out, parting with a gasp. "please, dear. i just... just want to love you."
"you have me," you whisper, connecting your lips in another soft kiss. "go ahead."
mel doesn't need to be told twice. within seconds, her fingers are finding the buttons of your top and undoing them with practiced ease while her lips trail along your neck. your breath hitches, tilting your head back to give her easier access. not only does mel appreciate your eagerness, but she loves just how receptive you are. she quickly frees you of your top, before reaching behind you to unclasp your bra.
"you're impatient."
"is there something wrong with that?"
"not at all," you huff, a hint of a smile on your face. "it's cute."
your bra is gone soon enough, though you start to tug down the zipper of mel's dress before she can begin properly touching you. fair is fair, right? your girlfriend allows you, her gaze staying fixed on you as the garment falls from her form.
and janna above, the sight before you.
truly a sight for sore eyes. one you've seen several times before, yet it never gets tiring. white lace lingerie, the swell of her breasts barely contained by a bra that's just a little too small for her clashing against the slender dip of her waist. white lace panties that expose just enough of the skin on her hips to keep you wanting, but keep her covered enough to preserve her modesty. if she wasn't playing fair before now, this is absolute mockery.
"did you wear this on purpose?"
she hums, that same sly grin still on her face as she reaches out for your tits, cupping them, running her soft thumbs along them in a way that her nails graze the pert buds. a low whine escapes you, your back instinctively arching into her touch.
"maybe," she murmurs, leaning to trail her lips along your collarbone and bare chest. "wishful thinking."
"well, your wish is coming true."
she keeps her fingers on your mounds, while you reach to free her of her own bra, soon followed by her panties which she quickly shimmies out of. even through the dim light of the moon, you can see she's positively glistening. landing strip leading right to where she wants you, folds already sticky with arousal.
"it's your turn," she smiles, before hooking her thumbs into the sides of your panties and slipping them down. "you're wet.."
"all for you," you respond, hips arching into her touch. mel moves to slot her legs between yours, and your eyes widen yet again. holy shit. it's not that you haven't done this before, but usually she goes for the more simple approach of eating you out, making you come undone by fucking you on her fingers- occasionally using a strap or vibrator. rarely this. she must be desperate.
"i want to ruin you," she husks, pussy hovering just above yours. "let me."
you quickly nod, and mel doesn't ask twice before finally pressing against you. a low gasp comes from both of you, not quite moving yet. but that simple contact is enough to do you in.
a beat of silence, then the woman starts to grind against you. slick cunt dragging against yours, and she lets out a shaky moan the second your clits brush together.
"shiiiit- nngh, you feel so good.."
"so do you- gah-"
her arms wrap around your neck, feeling the way you start to move against her as well. yet she's in control of the pace, slow and steady, and you don't dare push her beyond that limit. as much as it's driving you crazy. slick gathers between both of you, your eyes becoming half-lidded.
and then mel starts to pick up the pace, just slightly. rutting against you with vigor, lips parted in bliss.
"aaaah, you're soaked," she repeats, head tilting back. "you've been thinking about this all day, haven't you?"
a low moan falls from your lips, but you can't help nodding vigorously. all the charged glances she'd given you during dinner, the way her hand grazed the small of your back as she walked with you, stolen kisses between walking to shops, yeah, you wanted this.
"yesyes, gods, i've wanted you- i've been going crazy.."
"going crazy, huh? thinking about me doing this to you?" she breathes out, hips rutting against your heat- "dirty girl.. i- haaah! should've known.."
shaky whimpers fill the room with each swivel of mel's hips against you, your chest heaving. her tits are bouncing with the speed and a twist falls free, framing her face. somehow making the sight of her even more lewd. how did you get so lucky as to call this woman yours?
"mmmfuck.. can you blame me?" you whine, leaning forward to press sloppy open-mouthed kisses against her jawline. "you- mmmph, were doin' things to me, you always are..."
mel's smile widens the slightest bit, and she picks up the pace yet again. slick gathering between you and the councilwoman as you feel that familiar coil in your stomach begin to tighten, taut like a bowstring ready to snap at any moment. one hand goes to the nape of her neck while the other finds one of her full tits, squeezing and massaging. both to pleasure her, and to anchor yourself.
"ungh, gods- you're insatiable.. but it's so fitting-"
she's cut off by a sharp cry as your swollen clits brush against each other once again, and you can tell by the way hear head nearly falls onto your shoulder that she's close. mel is right there with you.
"i'm.. ohgodsimgonnacum," you breathe out, now humping against the woman like some kind of needy animal. sticky arousal has gathered on both of your inner thighs, but neither of you can be bothered to care. wet squelches fill the living room along with breathy moans. "please, mel- please.."
"me too," she responds, her grip tightening around you. "together? aaaah-"
"together, together.."
a few more thrusts, a few more brushes of slick heat, and your back arches. a shaky cry of mel's name escapes you, your head tilting back.
"mel- mel, oh, fuck! cumming, oh, you're so good, so good- fucking perfect-"
mel doesn't stop though, not for a second. riding you through your orgasm and chasing her own simultaneously, spreading your juices between two of you and grunting against you. she sounds heavenly.
and it crashes over her then, slamming into the woman like a freight train. she nearly screams- a guttural sound ripping from her chest as her face is buried into the crook of your neck. her nails dig into the nape, and while it'd normally hurt, that's the absolute last thing you're focused on.
"gods, you're perfect- you're made for me, i swear, aaaah.."
silence follows for a few moments, the both of you panting and trying to catch your breath. mel's embrace doesn't loosen, and neither does yours, but she starts to slowly ease off of you.
"...are you alright, love?"
"yeah, 'm okay.."
truth is, you're spent, but in the best possible way. that might've been one of the most intense orgasms you've had in ages. your heart is thrumming in your chest, and mel slowly tries to get off the couch. it's an effort, clearly, but through shaky steps, she manages to walk right next to you and place a gentle kiss on your temple.
"i'll be right back," she says. "don't move."
and you don't. within seconds, your girlfriend is back with a matchbox and towel. she strikes the match to light candles along the window, scents of rich vanilla and honey. her legs feel like jelly, but she'll be damned if she doesn't do this for you after the fact.
she walks back over to you, setting the matchbox down on her coffee table and keeping the towel in hand.
"lay back a little."
you do as you're told, still sated and a bit breathless. mel crawls back onto the couch, gently pushing your thighs apart as she rubs the towel along your inner thighs. all throughout pressing sweet kisses to your stomach and hips, yet another silent 'i love you.'
"you were perfect," she repeats. "i keep saying that, but it's true. you really.. wow."
"so were you, baby.. shit, i don't know what i did to deserve you."
mel lets out a soft chuckle, but shakes her head as she sets the towel down on an arm of the couch.
"you didn't need to do anything to 'deserve' me, dear. all you've done is be yourself, and that's more than enough."
she sees a smile tugging at your lips, before you open your arms.
"c'mere."
she immediately does, sinking into the cushions beside you as you pull her into your arms. your hands find her back, rubbing soft circles into the smooth skin. her warm breath tickles your neck, her legs slotting between yours. like two pieces of a puzzle, fitting perfectly together.
"you're feeling okay, right? nothing hurts?"
"no, nothing hurts," she hums, voice low and gravelly. "just a little worn out. i'd imagine you are, too."
you nod, your lips brushing her forehead, then her lips.
"i am, but a good kind of worn out.. i love you."
"i love you more," she whispers, leaning in to return the kiss. "more than you'll ever know."
of course you're busy. you're one of the academy's top-performing students, finals season is approaching. you've been taking just under the maximum amount of credits for the semester, despite powder's insistent protests that you don't always need to work so hard.
but your pride gets in the way, despite the love you have for powder. "just two more days," you'd told her. "two days until the weekend, and i won't study. we'll spend the whole weekend together, i promise."
powder understands. she really does, and she'd never want to purposely get in the way of your studies. it's only been three days, but you've never been apart this long in the entire seven months you've been dating, and she can't help the way she feels. she checks her phone to see if you've texted anything, but her notification bar is dry- so she does the next best thing, checking your location.
you're at the academy's library, either deep in textbooks or sleeping on one. great.
powpow:
hey baby, just checking in to see if ur ok. miss u :(
around ten minutes pass of silence, and each of those minutes only add to the fire of powder's anxiety. dare she say it- loneliness. and then a little 'ding' comes from her phone.
my heart:
hi love, i'm ok. just wrapped up a study session, now i'm going to the dining hall and i'll probably go to sleep after that.
i miss u more, i'm counting down the days till the weekend 💋
powpow:
but that's too long to wait </3 can't u make a stop underground after eating??
my heart:
i wish, but i have a 9am review session tmr :( i'm sorry pow
she sighs behind the screen, but powder gets it. this is temporary, soon enough you'll be done with finals and have the entire summer to spend with her. and despite all of those completely rational reasons why you can't see each other right now, she just wants to see you. be close to you, be able to kiss you, feel your skin on hers tangled in the sheets-
she needs to distract herself somehow. so powder reaches underneath her bed and picks up the blue notebook you'd bought for her. she'd never been one for journaling, but the fact it was a gift from you made her start using it. she'd write down what happened throughout her day- her thoughts, feelings, anything that would come to mind. it was therapeutic, like you'd told her it would be.
though even as the girl writes, the words are looking less like actual coherent thoughts and more like jumbled scribbles. her grip on the pen is faltering, and she stares at the page for a few moments before writing the next sentence. this usually does something to put powder's mind at ease, so why isn't it working now?
powder knows why, but she's trying not to admit it to herself. because damn it, you're busy, you've had a long day hunched over your laptop and books. you're probably just finishing up your late dinner by now and heading back to your dorm hall to get ready for bed. she feels so selfish, but the girl can't help it. she's needy.
she feels that ache between her legs, the one you're usually there to soothe. your long fingers curling inside her at just the right angle, or your tongue slithering around her swollen clit until her thighs almost clamp around your head. she looks back on those memories like they're distant and gone, like they didn't happen last week.
her phone buzzes beside her, and she immediately picks it up to the notification that you've arrived at your building. she's almost trembling now, and powder's going through such internal turmoil. she just wants to talk to you at least, not read text on a screen. at this point, she'll take anything she can get.
her finger moves to your contact, and her fingertip hovers over the 'call' button for just a moment before she taps it. a few rings on your end, then-
"hello?"
powder's heart contracts in her chest at the mere sound of your voice, and fuck, she's already feeling hot.
"hi, babe," she says into the receiver. "sorry, i know you're about to go to bed, i just.. wanted to hear your voice."
"don't worry about it, pow. i'm glad you called," you hum. "what's an hour or two of missed sleep?"
she hears a rustling of sheets, and your voice sounds so sweet. you do sound tired, but you're using the same gentle tone you always do with powder.
"how was your day?"
"it was good," a bit of a lie, she misses you like hell. "i didn't do much. helped out at the last drop in the morning, and i've kinda just been.. relaxing at home since then. what about you?"
you nod as if she can see you, a little smile tugging at your lips.
"i'm glad you had a good day," you murmur. your voice grows a bit softer, likely due to academy quiet hours going into effect. "the same as yesterday and the day before. just studying, studying, and more studying."
"well, you're being productive."
"i guess i am," you sigh, finally pulling the covers over yourself. "i miss you."
that does powder in. if she wasn't desperate before, she absolutely is now- and her breath nearly catches in her throat at those words. this is embarrassing.
"i miss you too."
her voice is trembling, and she hopes to janna that you won't catch onto it. maybe you're too tired and disoriented after studying to notice, but you've always been rather perceptive.
"...are you okay?" you murmur. "you sound a little.. i don't know, off."
powder swallows, taking a deep inhale in through her nose to try and muster some kind of believable response.
"yeah, just uh- had a lot of caffeine. have to keep my energy up somehow!"
"powder, i know that's not what's going on. come on, talk to me. you know i'll listen."
and still, it takes the girl such extreme effort to not just bare her soul to you right now. the fact that she can feel her body heating up, her pale cheeks flushing at every word you've spoken. she finds herself subconsciously squeezing her thighs together. the fact that she wishes you were giving her some kind of stimulation- anything, just to ease the absolute agony she's in.
"i just miss you, a lot. i told you.."
"you're hiding something," you respond, your voice taking on an almost pleading tone. "just tell me. i'm your girlfriend."
the world 'girlfriend' does her in all over again. she switches the phone to her non-dominant hand before her free hand starts trailing down her body, over her clothed stomach and toward the soft fabric of her sleep shorts. it takes every ounce of restraint in her body to not start stimulating her clothed clit- not now. not while you're talking so sweetly to her.
but powder also can't bear the thought of lying to you when you so obviously see through it, and when you're practically begging her to tell you what's wrong.
"damn it, i need you."
a beat of silence, then a little hum from the speaker.
"that's it?" you ask, your voice still soft- but with a rasp that wasn't there just a minute ago. "why didn't you just say so?"
"because it's- you've been working so hard! i get why we can't see each other, but fuck, i can't help it. i miss you. i miss your voice, i miss your lips, i miss you touching me."
"yeah? you do?"
your voice seems almost teasing, mocking her without even meaning to. her fingertips slip underneath the elastic of her sleep shorts while she leans back into the star-shaped pillow on her bed. the room is dark, only illuminated by distant moonlight and the faint glow of her phone screen.
"so badly," she nearly gasps. "please, just.. anything, anything. wish you could take a break from those stupid books and just fuck me."
fingertips ghost over the elastic of her panties. powder rarely ever gets this needy, but maybe that's because she's not used to going without your touch for this long. she's acting out of character. she can't help herself, it's like her mind isn't her own.
"you wanna touch yourself, don't you?"
"yes, yes-" her breath hitches in her throat, her hand staying still. she wants nothing more than to fuck herself to the sound of your voice, but powder is good. she'll wait. "please, let me..."
"go ahead, baby."
the girl wastes no time. her fingers dip under her panties, immediately finding her aching clit. the second her thumb lands, she lets out a sharp gasp into the receiver, one she swears she hears you chuckle at.
"ahh- toots," she breathes out, rubbing slow circles into the bud. "i need this, thank you..."
"no need for thanks," you whisper. "fuck, i wish i wish there. do you have any idea what i'd do to you?"
"no.. no, ah- tell me, please."
her finger picks up speed, letting out breathy moans. each noise is music to your ears, strengthening your own sense of want. but this is for powder. you're the one who's been gone, this is the least you can do.
"shit.. i'd be on top of you, my thumb on your pretty clit while i slip a finger inside."
power moans at the words themselves, and almost as if she's taking your words as instructions, slips a finger into her already dripping hole. wet and warm, it nearly sucks her in. it's not just desire, it's a sort of primal need.
"nngh.. yeah, what else?"
"i'd fuck you nice and slow at first," you rasp. "just.. take my time with you."
the digit slips in and out of her, slow- in, out, in, out, creating a gentle rhythm. she wishes so badly that it was your finger instead, you've always been able to reach places she couldn't herself. you know how to please her just right.
"and then i'd add another finger, and start going a little quicker.. curling my fingers inside."
"shit- aaahh," she whines. her ring finger goes into her hole, starting to fuck herself harder and deeper- curling her fingers so she can just barely graze her own g-spot. her walls flutter around her fingers, and she feels so hot. "keep talking, keep talking-"
powder loves you, she really does. she imagines glancing over her shoulder at you pounding into her from behind with your strap, then your pussy gliding against hers as you both chase a mutual peak. but your words are the thing that affects her the most. choppy blue hair fans out beneath her on that same star pillow, framing her as a portrait of pure longing.
"gods, i can almost feel it- you're soaked, aren't you?"
"hmmph, yeah, sofuckingwet.."
"keep fucking yourself," you whisper, a soft yet firm command. "make yourself cum to my voice, baby. you're doing so good, my perfect girl.."
heat pools in her stomach. sweat drips down her forehead, fingers pounding in and out of her cunt with a loud schlick sound over and over. powder's head tilts back the slightest bit- her fingers still working her clit, lewd moans falling from her pouty lips. in her mind's eye is your face directly above hers, looking into her eyes so lovingly. what she wouldn't give for that to be real.
"you sound amazing, come on.. i bet you look so pretty right now, you always do."
"wish it was you, ungh-" she breathes out through whimpers. part of powder wonders if you can hear her arousal, hear her getting herself off. she hopes you can. "please, i just want you- ah.."
"i wish it was me too," the sound is somewhere between a whine and a groan. "but janna, you sound so good.. i love you, you know that?"
"mhm, love you too.."
pale thighs part further out of instinct powder feels the knot in her belly tighten, tighten. her body feels like it's on fire, set ablaze by every praise from the speaker. she's holding onto that phone as if it's her lifeline.
"gonna- gonna, oh, janna!"
if only you could see her right now. you're internally cursing yourself for not asking her to prop up the phone and turn her camera on, but it's a bit late for that now.
"cum for me, powder," you whisper, words low and sweet. "you can do it, i know you can."
your final encouragement pushes the girl off the edge, her back arching off the bed as a strangled cry escapes her. the rasp of her voice cracks, gripping her phone so tight as liquid shoots over her hand. onto the sheets, soaking underneath her, chest heaving.
"ah, aah! cumming.. oh, fuuuuuuck-"
"that's it, powder, that's it- fuck, you were perfect."
her breath is coming in slow pants. the girl slowly slips her glistening fingers from her pussy, letting out one final shaky breath. she's slowly, slowly coming to her senses.
"...thank you," she breathes out. "thank you, thank you.. i'll see you this weekend."
Chat, I'd love to share my irl (me) blog but it has perv/nsft elements in it (OF ME and my wips) 💔 and ofc art in general (lesbian furries💗💗 and my usual stuff) just dm me if ure interested (not)
lesttt.. 😻 any genre IDC myb smut i js love her guys and i need content💔🙏
of course! thank you for the request <3
i completely agree! lest is one of my favorites actually, i just don’t write for her much since i don’t have too many ideas sadly :( this fic will be expanding on one of my ideas from the nsfw headcanons post!
summary; riding shotgun.
characters included; lest
tags/warnings; dom!lest, sub!reader, fluff, p in v sex, unprotected sex, (kinda) handjob, riding, praise, shimmer use, shotgunning, but you guys aren’t high (yet), porn no plot
men and minors dni.
"my gods, you're beautiful."
murmured praises while lest's plush lips press to the expanse of your neck again, and again, and again. over your pulse point, her tongue flicking out every now and again just to feel your breath catch in your throat. she looks up at you through half-lidded eyes, seeing just how affected you already are.
one hand on the nape of your neck, the other holding a shimmer pipe. she takes a long drag, turning her head to the side to breathe out magenta before turning her attention back to you. the most beautiful thing she's ever seen, in her lap.
lest is a gentle lover, sensual and passionate. and it gives the woman a thrill to know that a few simple caresses and kisses can reduce you to this state.
"says you," you breathe out, your hands trailing down her back to land on her hips. "you're perfect."
lest manages a low chuckle, but her hand slips underneath the hem of your top to splay across your stomach. sharp nails just barely scraping against the skin makes you shudder even more, lest just barely suckling at the skin before your clavicle.
"we aren't competing, dear."
she pulls back for another shorter drag from the pipe, her pursed lips exhaling with practiced ease. your hands give a light squeeze to lest's hips at the sight- gods, seeing her smoke did things to you that you couldn't explain- and you connect your lips the second she turns her head back toward you.
it's slow, deep, your lips finding a rhythm almost immediately. it's a seamless push and pull as your tongue grazes along the seam of her lips and lest grants you access. hot tongues tangling with one another, one hand coming to thread through her hair. it's not often you get to see her without that scarf.
she keeps your lips connected while tugging up your top, slowly, drawing it out- before she reluctantly has to disconnect to get it over your head. but the sight of you, clad in your bra, chest heaving will never grow old. the woman's lips find your breast, kissing over your exposed cleavage while her hands snake around to the clasp of your bra.
"may i?" she whispers.
"fuck- please."
you'd say you have a good head on your shoulders, generally. you're smart, you have good judgement, and you have decent enough decision-making skills. but since entering a relationship with lest, you've found yourself reduced to pure want every time you're in her presence. you can't help it, really. those golden eyes roving over your figure makes your heart stutter, the same way her careful touch makes every nerve in your body scream.
the moment your bra falls to the sheets behind you, lest's hands are cupping your tits and her thumbs are on your already-erect nipples. a sharp gasp escapes you with the touch. lest knows all of your sensitive spots like the back of her hand, a little smirk coming to her face with your noises. a song of your own making, just for her.
you can feel the hardness below your core, lest's clothed dick tenting through her skirt. part of you wants to grind down and chase the friction you so desperately crave, but the other part of you wants to live in this moment a little longer. soak it in for what it is.
lest clearly isn't unaffected herself, with the way her movements pause and her voice cracks when you even brush against her bulge. the difference between you both is that lest has always been better at hiding it.
she tweaks your nipple with her fingers once, then her other hand moves to the waistband of your shorts. they're cute, really, but lest thinks they'd look much better on the floor.
"ah- babe, that's-" you gasp out, soon realizing what your girlfriend is doing. as much as you'd love her to fully undress you right now, lest has entirely too many layers on at the moment. "hey, this isn't fair."
she gives an amused huff, but nods along with your words. the woman reaches for her own top, slowly stripping it off and not at all missing the way your eyes widen to the size of saucers as her bare torso is revealed.
"i guess it isn't," she hums, tossing her hair a bit once the garment is off. holy shit, she didn't wear a bra. "i apologize. we're even now, darling."
your hands instinctively reach out to cup the mounds. soft, smooth, the perfect size for your hands, as if they were made for you. lest lets out a shaky gasp as you run a finger across one nipple, the same way she'd done to you. two can play that game, you think.
the way her dark hair is splayed across her shoulders, she almost looks like an angel. she tugs at that pesky waistband once again, and this time- you let her. she slowly tugs the garment until it pools at your ankles, and lest's pupils dilate the moment she sees your panties. a dark purple, similar to the color of her attire, with a blaringly obvious wet patch at the sweet spot between your legs.
you want this, just as badly as lest wants you. that much is obvious. she lets out an appreciative hum as you settle back into her lap, your breath catching the moment your clothed core brushes her erection.
"you're already so wet..."
your free hand palms her bulge through her skirt, and a choked breath escapes her. deep and guttural. "can you blame me?" you breathe out, rubbing the length through fabric. "that's just what you do to me."
the woman takes another slower, more constricted drag from the metal pipe, exhaling through her nose before she gives a slow nod- a silent 'go ahead.' you don't waste any time before nearly throwing her skirt off, and the sight before you is almost enough to make your head spin.
lest, legs parted with her panties visibly strained by her confined dick. lace around the hems, dark fabric with a little bow at the top. like she's wrapped herself, a gift just for you. your fingers dip below the elastic, and the moment you pull at them, the length springs free. she's so hard it almost looks painful, tip already glistening with precum.
"holy shit, lest," you gasp, your hand moving to grasp her cock with an almost reverent air. your thumb brushes through the slit at the top, and you hear a shuddering whine. your stomach flips from within, knowing just how sensitive she is there. "you're aching for it, aren't you?"
your hand gives the length a few slow, gentle pumps, much to lest's increasing desperation. her body shudders when your thumb swipes over the thick vein along the side of her cock.
she tries to play it cool, to fool you into thinking she isn't affected- but you've spent enough time with your girlfriend to know that's far from the truth. low moans come from her bare chest, and you can't help the little smirk that comes to your lips. she's breathtaking, especially like this.
"fuuuuck," she whines. "you're- that's so good..."
"is it? do you want more?"
"you know i do..."
there it is- the first crack in lest's prideful armor. so without further hesitation, you pull back to shimmy off your panties before putting your knees on either side of her smooth thighs, hovering just above her throbbing cock. you reach between your legs to take hold, running the head through slick folds while her eyelids flutter.
"come on, love..."
"i thought you wanted to take your time," you chide, but line up her length with your hole anyways. already glistening and nearly dripping- all out of pure, unadulterated desire. "you're lucky i'm impatient."
without further words, you start to slowly sink down onto her dick, a synchronized gasp escaping both of you. one of lest's hands rests on your hip to help guide you, while the other keeps hold of her pipe. albeit, her grasp is significantly looser.
the length isn't too girthy, not quite too long- average, but exactly enough to please you and make you see stars each time she fucks you just right. and lest is an expert when it comes to that.
"oh- shiiiit," she gasps, her grip on your hip tightening the slightest bit as you take another inch. "you feel incredible.."
you're not much better off yourself, taking inch after inch with parted lips and bated breath. finally, you bottom out in her lap, and lest takes a shaky drag of shimmer. magenta coming in a controlled huff of smoke, while she squeezes your hip in reassurance.
"whenever you're ready," she says, her voice a bit more husky than normal.
you need a moment to readjust, you almost always do. you've done this several times, but lest understands. her gaze lingers on you, before you give a shaky nod- signaling to her that you're alright. your hips begin to move then. a slow, back and forth motion- forward and back, forward and back. just now you can feel her dick hitting the right spots so perfectly, and small whines begin to fall from your lips.
the second the tip of her length kisses your g-spot, lest tosses her head back. a guttural moan escapes her plump lips, her bare chest heaving as you swivel against her. wet and so good, even though you're going achingly slow. the woman's instincts are screaming at her to just put the pipe down, grab both of your hips and properly fuck you, but she knows you like riding her. you want to take this at your own pace, so that's what she'll let you do.
as much as it's killing her.
"you- nnngh, you're so deep-"
"yeah?" she moans, feeling you pick up your pace just the slightest bit. "good, good- oh, need to fill you-"
and damn, she's doing it. her voice is like a balm to all of the sensations coursing through your body, setting your very being ablaze. smooth and buttery, low enough to almost make you fall asleep.
she watches you start to bounce up and down on her dick, hand moving to grip one of your asscheeks and pull it to the side just a bit- baring your pussy to her even more. low moans coming from you, so goddamn vulgar in nature.
the way you stretch around her, each time you swallow her up, your tits bouncing- is making her control slowly slip. lest takes another shaky drag from her pipe, turning her head to the side to exhale- but you have enough semblance to palm her face back toward you.
"gimme some."
the woman's eyes widen the slightest bit- even as she grunts while feeling you clamp around her dick, the last thing she expected you to say was that.
"sorry?"
"you heard me," you breathe out. "just- ah!-" a rushed, sloppy kiss to her lips- "gimme, gimme.."
and while your girlfriend hadn't seen this coming, just the thought shoots straight between her legs. so between breathy moans, she takes a deep drag of shimmer, straight into her lungs before nearly connecting your lips. a hair's breadth away, she blows iridescent smoke between your parted lips. watching as you breathe in through your mouth, before finally closing that distance.
both of you swallow moans from the other as you continue to move against her, dick hitting the spongy spot inside you with each ministration- tongues tangling in a waltz. not a fight for dominance, just an expression of heartfelt adoration.
"fuck, you take me so well," she breathes out, parting for just a moment to take another slow pull from gold. "you're perfect, darling- mmm- so perfect.."
she blows another puff of smoke toward your mouth, this time you open a bit wider. she can see you start to speed up even more as you reach your impending peak- and fuck, she's feeling it too. heat low in your belly. clamping around lest's cock, her feeling blood shooting through and your ass landing down on her balls-
you're done for. her hand moves from your hip to your neglected clit to start rubbing circles in with two fingers. your head falls forward onto her shoulder while you nearly wail out.
"oh- fuuuuck! yeah, oh- please, i'm right there-"
"shh, i'll get you there, ngh- i will, promise."
a few more motions against her, a few more rubs of your clit- and your pussy clenches around your girlfriend's length. shaky whimpers fall from you as you wrap your arms around her shoulders, absolutely trembling against her.
you've never looked more beautiful than you do right now is lest's first thought, but her second is how close she is herself. the woman takes one more drag from the pipe, blowing a bit in your direction.
she's got the initiative to move you off her cock, quick enough to give herself a few strokes before she spills onto your stomach. white, hot, creamy, adorning your already sheen-slick body. like you're her personal canvas.
she leans back against the headrest to catch her breath, dark lashes fluttering before your lips softly brush her temple.
"love you," you whisper.
"mm- love you too.." she murmurs in response, arms wrapping around you. one hand coming to cradle the back of your head. "we ought to do that more often."
Would you be willing to write Maddie with a girlfriend who's openly ridiculously obsessed with her side profile? I'm not projecting my thoughts, you are! Like literally constantly gazing at it and kissing her cheeks or laying on her shoulder to get a glimpse.
This could be sfw or nsfw <3 (Literally though all her scenes showing her side profiles are so pretty)
of course! thank you for the request <3
i am not happy with this one. i'm so sorry but i reworked it and this is the best i've got. i hope i was able to do your request justice regardless
summary; maddie and her girlfriend have the day off, and have a night in. but her girlfriend is utterly obsessed with her side profile.
characters included; maddie nolen
tags/warnings; fluff, suggestive, no explicit nsfw, a lot of fluff
men and minors dni.
your bag hits the couch and a sigh escapes you. maddie's not far behind, sitting on that same couch beside your bag.
you'd just visited some local markets in piltover, gone through countless vendors and bought probably more than you actually needed. but both of you had the day off, you've just gotten a promotion, and life is too short to not indulge a little bit at times. save the city's scorching heat and the fact each of you only brought one water bottle.
"i'm beat," she huffs, placing a hand on her forehead in mind exasperation. "we should've checked the weather before heading out.."
"we will next time," you murmur, already sinking down beside her. maddie's immediate instinct is to wrap an arm around your waist and give a little squeeze. always so sweet, a little protective. a little possessive, even.
a beat of silence, just relishing in each other's company. you'd brought home a few prints of paintings, matching bracelets for the two of you in the form of green adventurine, even a new bathmat. you'd almost turned away from it, but a bathmat that looked like a tuxedo cat? how could you possibly pass that up?
"..what now?"
"whatever you wanna do."
"but that's the problem, i don't know."
you're not sure what to do with that really, but you're both too tired to do much of substance at the moment. so you look for the remote on the coffee table, in the couch cushions- before setting your sights on your girlfriend and narrowing your eyes.
"are you sitting on the remote?"
"no," is her immediate response, crossing her arms over her chest. but you know better than that by now. she probably is, but maddie is nothing if not stubborn.
"babe," you huff, a playful sternness to your voice. "get up."
maddie gives a roll of her eyes, though there's no actual annoyance to it. she stands up from her seat, revealing the remote that she was so adamant about. you wave it in front of her, like some trophy.
"a-ha! there it is, miss 'i'm not sitting on it.'"
"alright, i get it, i didn't realize," she teases, sitting back down with her arms still crossed. the girl huffs mockingly, and turns her head to the side to avoid your gaze-
holy shit.
you doubt maddie knows, maybe she does, but you've always had such a weak spot for her side profile. the subtle slope of her nose, the way her full lips jut out in that little pout. choppy ginger hair framing her face so perfectly. her eyelashes casting a shadow over her cheeks and freckles dusting her cheeks, the woman is a vision to behold.
she must not seem to notice you staring, though you do eventually come back to your senses to settle in next to her. your thumb presses the 'power on' button, then flips on the first streaming service on the menu. you look back to her, a little more subdued after your teasing moment.
"any preference for tonight?"
she scrunches her lips for a moment- another habit you've always found adorable, then shakes her head.
"just put anything on, i'm not picky."
so you do, scrolling aimlessly through the options for a moment. you'd usually love horror, but not the vibe for tonight. a sitcom is lighthearted enough, but you don't want that either. a drama? maybe another time. after a few minutes of flipping through various series and films, you settle on a simple romcom. a cookie-cutter storyline about a small town girl who meets a guy from a big city and insists on following her career goals, but ends up falling in love along the way.
maybe a little boring, but it'll work for tonight. you suppose it doesn't matter that much, since the most important thing right now is simply being with maddie.
her body relaxes into the couch a little. the glow of the tv illuminates the dark room, but you're more interested in how it reflects in her eyes. she's stunning. almost on reflex, your head rests against the woman's shoulder. she immediately wraps an arm around your waist to tug you closer to your side.
you've always relished in her warmth, and your gaze flits back to that gorgeous profile of hers. looking up from her shoulder, seeing her blue eyes fixed on the screen. the characters are probably having some stupid argument about the city being too pretentious, but it's all white noise.
what if you were to kiss those lips right now? maybe see them parted in pleasure while taking her from the back, her cheek against the sheets and looking at you over her shoulder-
shit. you can't be thinking like this, not right now, but nothing gets past your girlfriend.
"you're staring," she murmurs.
and you can't even try to deny it, because you absolutely are. so you just nod against her, a little breathless.
"yeah. sorry, you're just.. really pretty."
a soft chuckle escapes the girl as she looks down at you, plump lips tugging into a smile. the very smile that could positively melt you. if it weren't for the darkness of the room, you'd likely be able to see the bit of pink dusting maddie's cheeks.
"i'm glad you think so," she teases, but leans to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "you're not so bad yourself, you know."
"oh, shut up."
"shut up? you were just being so sweet a moment ago."
you don't have a retort for that, so the only thing you can think to do is brush your lips along her freckled cheek. once, then twice, feeling the flush underneath your lips. a few breathless giggles escape maddie at the sensation, until she feels your hands starting to explore.
down the pale expanse of her neck, then over her top- not quite brushing her breasts, but barely ghosting. all the while her lips are parted and she's side-eyeing your motions in what's almost anticipation. one hand slipping under the hem of her top and your knuckles just barely grazing her stomach.
"babe, i-"
"shh," you murmur, your other hand finding its way to her belt buckle. "if you don't want it, all you have to say is no, just- gods, you're so gorgeous."
fuck if maddie isn't tired, but fuck if there isn't a pool already beginning to gather between her legs. she thinks of you sinking to your knees in front of her with the sole purpose of loving her, and she nods fervently before connecting her lips with yours.
titsay
turnnoffyourmind
germansingergirl
theartofmadeline
dailybridgerton
