Jinx X Reader: You joined an all-women fighting & self-defense club.
[I watched Bottoms again, that montage of them fighting woke me right the fuck up.]
CW: Modern setting, roughhousing, playfighting, real fighting, blood, adrenaline junkie?? Smut: rough sex, sex-fighting, scissoring, semi-public, blood licking, no dom/bottom everybody aggressive. All characters are adults.
[This work contains elements of dubious consent (then full consent) and violent behaviors from both parties. All interactions are meant to remain fictional, purely for entertainment purposes and should not be taken in a real-life context. You are responsible for your own consumption on the internet.]
Men and minors do not interact.
A fist abruptly smashes your nose, screams rise around you, words of encouragement and rage, a low murmur against the pounding of your head. On top of you, she smiles wide and proud.
You woke up this morning with the notification that your package had arrived. The mailbox held the small, carefully wrapped parcel sitting on top of the growing pile of flyers. You take the package in one hand and the fistful of ads to throw them in the trash. You miss one which slips from the letterbox to the floor. Women’s fight club. You’re intrigued. You’ve received all kinds of adverts to join different clubs and organizations, but none of them seemed interesting. But the eye-catching design makes you pause; the faded black and neon colors, all written in graffiti style. The main picture in the middle is one of a womanly silhouette in a fighting stance with her leg raised up mid kick. You bend down to take it and rest it flat on the carboard box.
You observe the picture in more detail, the open box abandoned on the floor next to you and a half-eaten toast in your other hand. [Ladies only, Germs out, beat ass and get your ass beat. Thursdays at 7PM, E2 Gymnasium.] A chuckle leaves your lips at the audacious statement. You flip the page to see it blank with only a few words at the bottom, [“Pussy up and join.”]. You’re intrigued by the boldness and the lack of information, there’s no mail or phone number, just the time and place. It’s tomorrow.
College started two months ago and so far, your social calendar is pretty empty. You went to a college party during the first week and quickly realized it wasn’t your scene; you’ve made a few acquaintances but nothing substantial. Most students here make friends through their clubs. It’s worth a try, could be a good bonding experience.
You stand in front of the building, hesitation gnawing at your decision. You had much more assurance yesterday, but now, a wave of nervousness crawls up your throat. You can’t fight for shit, what if it’s filled with girls with experience already? You notice in the distance a duo of girls walking inside the building, presumably for the same thing as you.
The gymnasium is fuller than you expected, around fifteen girls, dispersed in the room in small groups and talking amongst each other. They all turn to you, the murmurs going down. A few seconds later, their conversations starting again once they realize you’re not the teacher.
You stand awkwardly in one corner, looking around the gym. Next to you, a girl sits on a high pile of stacked foam blocks. She’s wearing an oversized black hoodie, one leg folded against her body, chin resting on her knee. She’s scrolling on her phone with an air of boredom. She turns her head suddenly towards you, making you look away immediately.
The door opens and two young women walk inside; you immediately tell by their attitude that they’re the teachers. One has red hair, left side shaved, longer strands reaching her shoulder blade; she wears a white skintight tank top that highlights the muscles of her arms with tight black pants. The woman next to her is tall and thin, her figure packed with lean muscles, her long navy hair tied in ponytail.
“Hello everyone! Can I get you all in a circle, please?” The red-haired girl waves around, encouraging the girls to come.
Everyone looks at each other with curiosity, all standing in a big circle with the two women in the middle.
“I’m Vi. I am a second-year student in the wrestling program and I’m twenty-three years old.” The red head presents herself, her expression kind. She twirls slowly as she talks to consider everyone present, her gaze warm.
The second woman gives a nod and takes a step forward. “My name is Caitlyn; I am twenty-four and in my third year in political science.” Caitlyn turns, looking at every individual present. Her eyes are attentive.
“Self-defense is a necessary skill that everyone, especially young women should learn. With this club, we strive to make you stronger and safer. Some of you may already be familiar with the concept, others may already have experience, we adapt to all levels. We’ll teach the basics regarding self-defense and how to protect yourself in different dangerous situations every Thursdays, and the Saturdays will be more focused on learning fighting tactics. Any questions?” Vi looks around with a smile.
“Are we going to get beat up?” A shy voice asks.
Everyone turns to the source; a girl of short stature, wearing a pair of capris and a sweater. She looks around with big eyes, shrinking under the attention.
Vi shakes her head. “No, of course not. I’ll be honest, there will be a bit of tussle, especially during the fighting classes but we will always remain careful, and you’re not obligated to participate in those. The self-defense classes are enough on their own. Our goal is to teach and not to harm.”
“But…the flyer says that we will get beat up.” Another girl adds.
Vi and Caitlyn consult each other silently, looking equally confused. The taller woman tilts her head, pushing her lips out in a mimic that only the red head understands, she lets out a small sigh.
“Apologies for that, it’s just a catchy saying used on the leaflet, do not worry, no one is getting beat up.”
Vi tilts her neck, looking far behind her. You follow her gaze to see the blue haired girl sitting at the very back. As if she feels the stare, she looks up from her phone. Vi gives her a head tilt. The bluenette shakes hers. Vi does it a second time, the mysterious girl sighs loudly and kicks herself off the foam blocks, walking towards the circle. Vi faces you back with a smile, she brings her hands together in a clap.
“Alright, let’s start with the basics. Everyone, introduce yourself, name, age and major, you’re free to share your motivations for joining this club as well if you wish.”
They go through to each student clockwise; you congratulate yourself for not stuttering. It stops at the latecomer. She rolls her eyes, looking away from her phone, shoving it into the large center pocket of her sweater.
“Jinx, engineering.” She says simply.
Vi looks at her silently.
“21.” She adds after a beat.
You look at her, intrigued. She looks utterly bored and even slightly annoyed. You can tell by the silent interactions she’s having with Vi that they know each other. Her gaze drifts aimlessly around the room until she makes eye contact with you. You’re simply observing her with an open expression, she raises an eyebrow coldly. You look away.
The class starts; both Caitlyn and Vi are good teachers, they pay attention to each student and are very patient. While one uses a mannequin to show which moves to use when restrained, the other walks outside the circle to check if each girl does the movement correctly, taking turns doing it. You can’t help but be impressed by their harmony, the two girls obviously know each other well by the way they go through the motions without exchanging a single word.
“It’s been two hours already; we’re going to end the class for today. So far, you all seem to be on the same level, which is good, you understood the exercises well. Next week, we’ll keep on the restraint resistance but in groups this time. Remember, we have another, more fighting centered, class on Saturday, don’t hesitate to join us if you’re interested.”
You walk back to the other side of the room to grab your backpack next to the bleachers. You catch a bit of conversation between Vi and Jinx.
“It was funny, come on, they didn’t actually think you’d beat them up.”
Jinx notices your gaze and looks at you from where she is, causing Vi to turn to you and catching your eyes. You smile thinly and wave. She returns the gesture, waving back.
Another week of classes finishes, and you plan on enjoying your weekend doing absolutely nothing. As you walk back inside your place, you see the leaflet still sitting on your small table. Every Thursdays and Saturdays… Fighting wasn’t necessarily something you thought you’d be interested in, but the two girls are really nice and learning a new skill is always useful. And it’s not an engagement anyways, you could only satisfy your curiosity once and not come back.
You wake up the next day abruptly, checking the time, scared to have missed your alarm. You’re not used to waking up this early on Saturdays, you work part-time at a small bar next to the campus on weekends, so the days are for lazing around. Not today, however.
The room is significantly less full than earlier this week. You recognize some faces; you wave at them as you take a place in the circle. Vi and Caitlyn are in the middle, explaining what the first exercise will consist of. Behind Caitlyn, you notice Jinx, part of the circle and with a much more attentive expression than the last time you saw her. She’s also wearing a pair of dark joggers and a tight black top. Without the large clothing, you now notice how long her hair is, falling down her back in two braids, dangling on the sides of her waist.
“To start, I’m going to show you how to hit properly without hurting yourself.” Vi’s voice brings you back into focus.
The burly woman raises her closed fist.
“Never put your thumb on the inside of your fist, because when you’re punching you could break it, put it on the outside instead, across your fingers, like this.”
You close your hand into a fist, copying her gesture. She observes the other girls following her hands.
“Good. Now, you have to keep a firm, closed hold, never loosen your grip because your assailant can grab your hand and it will break. Know which hand is your dominant one and use this one if the other has a weaker hold.”
You watch Vi with a bit of admiration as she goes into a fighting stance, her muscles tensing, her gaze focused on an invisible point in front of her, no longer looking at the others.
“Keep your legs spread, wider than the width of your shoulders, you have more chances of hitting right if you’re sideways than facing them. Arms bent but leaning out, not too close, keep your dominant hand out and the other closer to your face to protect.”
A gentle hand rests on your lower back, surprising you.
“Lean a bit.” Instructs Caitlyn. “Arms closer, tightens your fists. Good.”
Vi throws her most forward arm in one strong, quick movement, sharp exhale leaving her lips at the same time.
“Now, you won’t always think to do it, but control your breathing for the first punches, exhale out and inhale back into protection, it’s easier to throw a whole punch when you do, inhaling constrict your chest.” She stays in focus for a few seconds before slowly getting back into a standing position.
You see the slight glow in her eyes, slowly fading as she faces you and the others again.
“Me and Cait are going to check your throws and then we’ll move to making the groups.”
Your technique is good according to them; you’re just missing a bit of strength. You train with the other girls, as a duo each time, throwing punches at each other without touching. Jinx comes in front of you, slightly out of breath, a few rogue hairs clinging to her forehead. She doesn’t say anything and simply gets in position, you do the same thing. She stares at your stance up and down, which doesn’t fail to make you slightly self-conscious, the moment your eyes divert from her, you feel the wind of her punch on the side of your face. When she catches your eyes again, she’s snickering.
You frown and mimic her maneuver, throwing a punch in her direction. She nods and then walks away from you to the next girl. You follow her with your eyes.
The remaining time is focused on keeping an upright position and punching straight.
“We’ll see each other next time guys, in the meantime try to practice your stance when you have the time. Please do not hurt yourself in the process, we are not responsible for any injuries caused outside of the class.”
As time goes by, you grow an attachment to the classes, learning not only to defend yourself but trusting your body more. It even made you feel more confident. Even more than confidence, fighting gives you a high you never felt before. Perhaps it’s the adrenaline, or the being cheered on by so many girls when you win or lose, perhaps it’s witnessing your pain tolerance getting higher; the Saturday classes quickly became something you look out for. The bruises have even started to make you proud. You’ve made a few friends and got along with most of the girls. Except Jinx.
You’re not sure what’s wrong with her, she makes snide remarks towards you quite often, she stares at you like you owe her something and, you’re pretty sure she goes extra hard when she’s training with you. The image of her all tense, her muscles flexing, eyebrows frowned in focus, the glint in her eyes when she raises her fists towards you... It’s a sight that has become familiar. Jinx is a good fighter, not always a fair one, she’s quick on her feet, agile, surprisingly strong for someone her size.
“I’m not even sore anymore, and I feel so strong now, I joke to my partner about being able to take them.” One of the girls jokes, bringing you back to reality.
Vi’s clapping gathers everyone’s attention in the center of the room.
“Okay guys, break’s over. We’re going to do things a bit differently now.”
Everyone stands in a line, attentive. You look at the others, curious about the announcement. Jinx, standing at the edge looks at you, she always manages to catch your gaze, no matter for how long you’ve been looking. It’s a bit creepy. She gives that pretentious smirk again and mouths something to you. What was that?
Vi comes back with a punching bag on a stand, rolling it in the middle of the room.
“We’re going to start the actual fighting in groups now. But before that,” Caitlyn turns to her girlfriend who’s holding a red plastic box. “Everyone will take a pair of bandages for your hands and then punch in the bag.”
“Fighting wise, we only do what we’ve practiced, the basic punch, and always aim for the jaw, not the face or the top of the head. No kicking, scratching or anything of the sort. Just the punches.”
After punching as hard as you can on the boxing bag, you shake off the tension in your wrist. The bandages are tight around your forearms, keeping everything in place. You notice Jinx again, she’s sitting on the floor at the very back, wrapping her bandages.
The rule is, the first successful punch wins. You watch each duo go at each other, ducking, shifting sideways and attempting to hit first. As your turn approaches, you feel the excitement grow, heart quickening in your chest and breathing becoming a bit shallow. You win the first two rounds, even surprising yourself.
Jinx stands in front of you in a cropped, dark, wife beater and a pair of loose shorts, showing off the slight abs and toned thighs. She smirks at you, noticing the excitement in your eyes, your pupils dilated from the high only adrenaline can give you. In that moment, it feels as if she’s fully taking you in, no condescension in her eyes, but a quiet focus instead. You punch straight away, she ducks. You try a second time; she shifts on the side. You’re still leaning forward in the act, Jinx slides back in front of you, you fingers coming in contact with her left shoulder for a millisecond before she punches hard enough to send you back a few steps until you fully lose your balance. Pain spreads on the side of your face, the metallic taste of blood fills your mouth, dripping from your lips. Clapping rises around you, it takes you a few seconds to regain full awareness, head spinning when it hits the floor. You don’t know how long you stay down, but it’s long enough for Vi to help you stand back up, holding the back of your head.
“Hey.” She holds you firmly by the shoulder to keep you from falling back again. The ringing in your ears takes a minute to completely wane off. “Can you hear me okay? No black spots in your eyes?”
You walk back to the line, still a bit lightheaded. Vi gives a pointed look to her sister, Jinx shrugs, poking her tongue out.
After the first matches are over, the winners are put in a separate line for the semifinals. You notice Jinx doesn’t participate, to everyone’s surprise including her own sister who watches her leave the gymnasium. A feeling dawns on you as you stare at the door slowly closing.
Caitlyn comes to you at the end of the class, lending you an ice pack. She smiles kindly, her tone soft.
The left side of your face from your cheekbone to your jaw is sore, but nothing feels broken, and you’re still conscious. She nods attentively, keeping her eyes on your head.
“We’ll take you to the infirmary, it’s procedure.”
You nod. Jinx doesn’t come back for the rest of the class.
The bruise heals rapidly, fading into a yellowish patch. The brutality didn’t deter you, quite the opposite. Fighting with Jinx gives you a rush; she keeps you on your toes, shifting just out of focus only letting you graze her cheek with your hand. How you caught her eyes gleaming when you get too close. It’s almost unhealthy, the way you wait for it each week, you wonder if she does too. She’s not your friend and you’re not hers, but every time you fight her, she turns into the most important person in the room. She leaves you tingling all over, heart pounding and out of breath. You wonder if it’s the same for her. You started paying closer attention to her, watching her reactions in class. She catches your gaze often but never says anything about it. She always looks bored on Thursdays and happier on the weekends. Just like you, she’s grown addicted to the adrenaline of a good fight, not knowing which side she’ll get attacked next sends a rush like no other.
Jinx doesn’t expect anything from anyone except from you. And she’s been expecting it from the beginning, when she recognized the craving in your eyes, the afterglow on your face at the end of the class. You didn’t even notice it at first, staring at her like some expectant animal, eyes blown like a predator in the wild. She was more skilled than you and she knew it, she could’ve been gentler, Vi warned her about it. Yet she couldn’t resist the way you pushed her, how you mirrored so well the very high she’s felt this whole time.
For the first time, Caitlyn and Vi are late. You stand in the gymnasium with the others, waiting for them. You take notice of how the group has dwindled as the weeks have gone by. The self-defense class got fuller, but a few girls left the fighting classes once they knew how to throw a good punch. You notice Jinx at the back of the room, like she often is, on her phone, ignoring everyone else. Her hair is down today, disorganized strands covering the top part of her face. She quickly looks up from her phone and does a double take when she sees you. She holds your gaze, the shadow of a smirk appearing on her face. You watch as she stands up and makes her way over to you.
“Sure, I’ll put it on the punching bag for some fuel.” You quip back.
Her smile widens. “Go ‘head, get consolation where you can, soft paws.”
“You can close your fists real nice, but you have no punch.”
“My punch is really good, actually.”
“I can throw a good one, and you know it.”
You turn to her fully this time. She smiles with an air of defiance.
“Why, you want to taste it right now? We’re in the right place.”
“Not craving any caresses at the moment.”
The provocative tone doesn’t fail to rile you up. She’s been doing this for weeks now, taunting you, mocking your strength, yet keeps picking fights with you. And you give it into it, willingly. The now common rush of adrenaline shoots up in your system like a drug.
“Sounds like you’re scared.” You lean towards her, seeing her pupils dilate further.
“Of what? A declawed kitty?”
You punch her. Not too hard, but strong enough to make her reel back a few steps. Silence falls in the room, the other students stunned by what they saw. Jinx puts a hand on her cheek, rubbing the skin now tender. She winces, and for a moment, you feel guilty. What has gotten into you? But Jinx looks back up with a feral glint in her eyes and charges at you.
She punches once, then twice; you barely have time to react by how fast she is. When you lose your balance, she grabs your arm and throws you on the padded floor instead. You duck just as she’s about to give another punch, Jinx quickly slides on your left and grabs your arm, folding it behind you. Her body presses against your backside and you can feel her rugged breathing on your nape. Adrenaline is rushing through you, and you kick her in the shin, wrapping your arm around her own to twist her back in front of you, and admonishes her another blow. The other girls have encircled you, some confused about whether they should stop it, others fascinated by the brutal display. Jinx doesn’t hit you with her full strength, she’s drawing it out. Her act insults you and your anger rises disproportionately fueled by the ever-present tension.
“Come on!” You shout, the remnant of self-control slipping.
That reaction riles up the rest of the room who start screaming as well, some rooting for Jinx, others for you. Jinx leans forward ferociously, her hands grab your shoulders, pushing you backwards. The shock is evident on your face when she falls down with you, sitting on your lower stomach. Your reflex is to push her off, she slaps your arm away, smiling devilishly. The broken chuckle that falls from your lips when you avoid her punch turns nearly hysterical when she mimics you, raspier. She grabs your face in one hand and punches you in the face, her ass pressing on your pubic bone. It burns but doesn’t erase the smile. A fist abruptly smashes your nose, screams rise around you, words of encouragement and rage, a low murmur against the pounding of your head. On top of you, she smiles wide and proud.
Jinx is suddenly lifted off you, the absence of her weight leaving an empty feeling. Your face burns, too heavy to lift it right away. But your hear voices, feminine voice vociferant, it’s Vi’s. Caitlyn helps you get back up, keeping you in a seated position.
“Where’s she.” You try to stand up; she doesn’t let you. “Come on let me at her, I had it.”
“That’s enough.” Caitlyn seizes you back, the firmness of her tone shutting you up.
A door slams in the distance. Vi walks over to you, she looks at your face with a defeated expression.
Diagnostic is, you’re lucky she didn’t break your nose. The bruises have started to form on your face, shoulders and your arm, your lower lip split and crusting with dried blood. Vi asked you what happened, you simply told her you were practicing with Jinx, and she looked at you like you grew another head.
You forced yourself to stay sat the whole through the examination, keeping quiet about Jinx, holding back questions and mostly appearing wounded. Truth being that the adrenaline still didn’t go down and now your mind spins with the need to let it out.
“Go home and rest, I’m serious. And take it slow for now.” Vi tells you.
You give her a brief nod and walk away. Caitlyn comes next to her, resting a hand on her shoulder. They watch you leave without saying anything more but exchange a long look after.
Of course, she’s not in the gymnasium anymore. It’s locked. And on a Saturday, no one is around here anyways, most students out or probably towards the library. Your hands shake with restlessness, eyes searching all around for her. You stop in front of the locker room. The small building with chipped paint and a sink that doesn’t work. The only one that hasn’t been renovated yet. You’ve gone inside a few times to change into sports clothes. Nothing much in there besides a row of screeching lockers and two benches pushed together. A light flickers from the small rectangular window at the very top.
When you walk in, your heart is pounding, deafening. It’s not a surprise to her here, your whole body has reaction regardless, electricity coursing through your veins. She lifts her head up slowly, looking at you from your shoes to your face.
You raise an eyebrow. “How’s that?”
The defiance is automatic, but you still walk towards her as you say it. From where you stand, you see the slight bruise under her eye where you punched her, her hair is a mess, braids untightened from all sides, rogue hairs escaping from everywhere. Her blue eyes darkened by a violent need. She smiles.
“I messed you up good.” She hums.
“You got lucky, they arrived before I could give back.”
Jinx laughs, looking away from you. Her eyes glow in the white lighting. She stands up, face only centimeters away from yours. Her breath fans on your face.
“Stop consoling yourself and admit.”
Her eyes widen in delight, then, she’s pushing you on against the lockers, the metal rattling. She keeps an arm flat on your collarbones, her knee pushing between your thighs to block you.
“I won. Every single time.”
You kick her and reverse the position.
“How come I still block you every time?”
Both of you are panting, the mutual hunger now unable to ignore. Jinx resists against you, trying to free herself from your grip but you press further, the struggle is evident in her face. The bluenette leans closer, her lips skim yours. Her eyes look into yours and she smashes her lips against yours with certainty. Your arm digs, now touching her shoulders, she grabs the back of your head, pushing her tongue deep inside your mouth. She’s relentless, bullying your mouth into submitting. When you answer back with the same energy, she bites your lip, making the blood gush out from the already present wound. She licks it voraciously, sucking in your lip and letting it go in a lewd popping sound.
Then Jinx pushes you back, the back of your knees hitting the wooden bench. Another shove and your body hit the wood. The weight of hers rests on top of you, pushing your arms back, clawing at the fabric of your clothes, scratching your arms and shoulders. You pull on the large T-shirt she’s wearing, until the fabric tears in the middle, exposing her milky skin to your eyes. Her eyebrows furrows in focus, slapping your hands away, rushing to take off your clothes first. You’re not letting her win this round, you push the pelvis upwards and pushes her off you, she lets out a small scream of surprise. This time you sit on her, pushing away the ruined fabric from her shoulders.
“Get off me!” She gesticulates under you.
You reach for the elastic of her joggers, but Jinx grabs your arms, she doesn’t want to let you undress her first. She’s the one doing it, not the opposite. Arousal and annoyance battle in her body turning into something explosive. Instead of cooperating, she spreads her legs, hooking her thigh around your hips. The gesture takes you off guard long enough for her to switch the position again. Her knee is bent next to your hip, keeping you from moving away, your leg thrown over her thigh, she digs her nails into the fat of your other thigh, dragging you back against her. Jinx rubs herself on you, unabashedly moaning at the friction. You hook your fingers at the top of her pants, pulling them down with her underwear. She lets out a trembling moan at the gesture, you watch with fascination as her hips juts forward, searching for more contact, the muscles on her stomach flexing, hipbones shifting under skin. You notice the blue ink next to her pubic bone, shaped like a cloud, thighs tensing, the blue hairs at the apex of her thighs, hair darker in the middle, wet from her arousal.
“Fucking do s-something.” She snarls at you.
Jinx doesn’t give you the time to answer, ever in a rush. You let her remove your pants, giving her frustrated whimpers. She positions you harshly, scratching your legs with every movement she does, not bothering with apologies.
Her pussy collides with yours, making you both scream in pleasure. She small circles with her hips, desperately trying to find the touch that will make you lose your mind. Ragged breaths and choked moans come out of her lips, head thrown back and eyes closed, she focuses on the sounds coming out of you. She wants you to come first, she wants to rub it in your face that she can beat you in every way. You’ve gotten too used to her ways to not notice it. You grip her hips, pulling her closer to you and spreading your legs more. Jinx is too sensitive and pent up to hide her pleasure, moaning loudly, weakly attempting to remove your hands.
You know she’s about to break because her body starts to shake, back arching, her lower body locking on yours. The sight brings you to the same edge as her, both of you fighting against the orgasm to watch the other come first. Jinx meets your eyes, a delirious edge in hers.
Her stubbornness makes you laugh, even when you’re doing the same thing as hers. Her clitoris bump against yours, your mixed slickness rendering the touch soft and mind numbing. Your breath accelerates, stomach tensing as an effort to battle the final blow before your orgasm. Jinx watches with utter satisfaction, a breathless smile on her face as she starts catching up to you. Your screams merge into one, the pleasure heightening on the peak of the other. The orgasm wracks through you like a tsunami; Jinx trembles on top of you, body dangling as if she’s only held by the maddening bliss. You angle her back down on the bench, resting on top of her, hips moving in slower circles, grasping onto every bit of the rush. Jinx doesn’t fight back this time, her calf rests against your butt, holding you close, she wraps her arms around your shoulders, gazing deep into your eyes with her half-lidded ones. Your moans have been reduced to small gasps, panting against each other, utterly dependent on each other’s pleasure.
Your bodies rest on top of each other in a mess of sweat, slick and satiated appetite. You absent-mindedly play with a strand of blue hair as she traces patterns on your shoulder with her nail.
“You came first.” She mumbles; her voice softened into a raspy teasing.
“Uh no, you did, I saw it.”
“Not with the way those eyes rolled back, soft paws.”
You pinch her waist, she huffs.
“I should give you my number.” Jinx concludes, nosing at you hair. “Can’t have you believe in those delusions.”
“Loser streak?” You taunt.
[I have no idea why it took me this long to release this but oh well, next one is gonna be g!p jinx and probably something softer]
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