thegildedsvn @svnnynostalgia - Tumblr Blog

Jan 8

where the girls are; jinx x fem!reader

❥・summary; you're a regular in the undercity's punk scene. but when an up-and-coming band plays as a guest for the firelights, you're intrigued by one of their members. she's intrigued by you.

❥・tags/warnings; band au, bassist!jinx, riotgrrrl!jinx, background lux and vi, fluff, smoking, drinking, this isn't a groupie/fan situation, fluff, friends to.. something, smut at end, dom!jinx, sub!r, experienced!jinx, virgin!r, nipple play, fingering, strap-on use, strap-on referred to as 'dick' and 'cock,' praise, gentle!jinx, still chaotic.., she switches between gentle and wild, multiple orgasms, some aftercare.

❥・wc; 11.3k

loosely based on "flesh for fantasy" by billy idol, not really a songfic though. also i got way too into this and drew out her outfits lol

minors dni.

the place smells like beer, sweat, cigarettes, sex, and bad decisions.

you’ve been involved in zaun’s underground music scene- which is frankly huge- for a while now. specifically the punk scene. with oppressive culture from piltover comes counterculture, and the undercity does it well.

you woke up two hours before you had to leave for the gig, but you could be reassured by the fact that these things never start on time. 8:00 actually means 9:00, sometimes 9:30 if they’re really running behind.

you grabbed the nearest pair of black jeans you had, combat boots that should’ve been replaced ages ago. the first top you see, and your prized possession: your vest. the one which you’ve spent hours sewing and making patches for, studding, and dyeing. grabbed your barely-there eyeliner pencil and held it above a lighter, then smudged some along your lashline and smoothed it out with your finger. some mascara, shimmering eyeshadow on your inner corner, and dark lipstick, and you were ready to go.

you clutched the flyer in your hand, one you snatched off a lightpost. that’s the main way of advertising these things, aside from occasional social media and word of mouth. you have to know people who know people for the latter two. and you do, you just got to the flyer first. although not a musician, you frequent the scene enough to be recognized. you’ve even been asked a few times to help set up equipment or take cash at the door, but you always declined. said that you liked supporting from the crowd just fine.

turning the doorknob then locking it behind you, you started off toward the venue. well, it’s hardly a venue, it’s the lower level of an empty building that used to be a consignment shop. the owner passed, he had no family to take over the business, and the building went vacant. until a bunch of punks discovered it.

the firelights. they’re playing tonight with a few other bands you haven’t heard of, and don’t remember the name of. a perfect blend between 90’s grunge, hardcore, and no wave, they bring a unique sound. something experimental and real. technically, the band is straight-edge, but the majority of the fans aren’t. funny how that works.

you’ve always been partial to the frontman, ekko. he’s on lead guitar and vocals, entirely self-taught on both. the way he plays reminds you of an era long gone, clearly taking inspiration from bands of the 80’s and 90’s, but bringing his own ideas to it. bringing zaun to it. a girl called eve on drums, scar on backup guitar and another girl (who doesn’t care to stay around after shows) on bass. one of the things you’ve always loved about the scene is how grounded it is. no musicians who think they’re better than their fans- their audience, seeing as the majority don’t like the word ‘fans.’ there’s no social hierarchy, not like other genres of music, and especially not like the bullshit they have in piltover.

you’ve gotten to talk to the members several times, and they speak to you like old friends. you talk, you laugh- ekko’s even asked for help with DIY projects before.

cold air nips at your skin like pinpricks, though you try to ignore the sting. this place doesn’t even have a spot on google maps, just coordinates that are given out to those who ask for them. you’re counting yourself lucky that you’ve already been to this venue a handful of times and know the route well. you brought a half-smoked blunt in your pocket and a lighter, as well as some lip balm and a few crumpled up bills.

within minutes, you’re at the door, and greeted by someone you’ve seen before- never got the name of them, but they seem to supervise a lot of shows around here. you give a polite smile.

the show is free, the flyer said, but donations are appreciated. so you reach into your pocket to grab a few bills, hand them to the doorkeeper who gives a quick thanks, and step into the venue.

it’s 8:05 right now, but as you predicted, the firelights aren’t on stage yet. there’s some band equipment up there that you don’t recognize as theirs, though, and you realize it must belong to one of the other bands. they never did post an official lineup.

venturing further in you’re greeted by music blaring over an overhead speaker and a few familiar faces, then see the firelights sat together in a dark corner, lost in conversation. it just confirms your suspicions. you sigh, go over to the bar, and order a can of spiked cider.

“firelights again?” the bartender asks, fishing a can out of the cooler.

“yeah,” you hum. you crack open the can and take a quick sip. “they’re one of my favorites.”

“they’re a lot of people’s favorites. i’m just hoping they don’t sell out.”

“they won’t,” your voice comes out with a bit more conviction than you expected. “they’re not like that. i mean, wouldn’t they have asked for money tonight if they were?”

she sighs, bracing her elbows on the counter and nodding. “yeah, fair point.” the woman gestures toward the stage, where a group of women- presumably the first band, are plugging in jumper cables and finalizing a setlist. “looks like they’re about to go on. you should get a spot.”

you grab a spot toward the front, taking another swig of the cider. a blonde girl, slight but tall, steps to the front and taps the mic twice to see if it’s working. it is.

her hair is unevenly crimped and adorned with a black headband, she has some subtle black eyeliner smudged on and mascara. chipped black nail polish and baby pink lipgloss applied, while she dons a white dress with a bow in the center of the peter-pan collar. to top it off, a pair of light blue tights and black heeled mary janes.

“uh.. hey guys,” she says, adjusting her guitar in her hands. “thanks for coming out tonight, even though it’s freezing. this is our first gig, so it’s a big night for us.”

she gives a small smile, eyes flitting around the crowd. her nerves are palpable, and with how soft her voice is, part of you wonders if she’s in the right place. how she found herself in a band, nonetheless. she picks up a guitar from its stand and gets into position, before a girl beside her with long braids mouths something to her like she’s yelling.

“oh, right!” she huffs, laughing into the mic. “we’re loose cannon. i can’t believe i forgot that.”

the other girl shakes her head, scoffs, but everyone gets into position to start. the dim lights adjust, casting a red and blue glow over the band, and they’re starting their set.

right out the gate, the music is uncoordinated, but there’s a steady beat and rhythm to it. the bass is heavy, enough that you can feel it on the ground beneath your feet, and the drums are quick. upon looking closer, recognize the drummer. vi. she made a name for herself as a pit fighter in the last year, but she disappeared a few months ago. said she was taking an early retirement. nobody knew where she was or what she was doing, and people whispered. now, you knew the answer, but none of the others were right.

and the vocalist? you underestimated her. by a lot. although she might look unassuming, with such a sweet voice and calm demeanor, she’s got a set of lungs on her. deep, raspy singing voice that sounds like it’s beyond her years. it has soul, strength, and most importantly, it has anger.

if you weren’t mistaken, you’d think she was professionally trained in playing guitar, with how seamless her playing is. maybe she was.

but the bassist catches your attention the most. she’s standing on the far end of the stage, away from the other two members, though she still knows how to command the attention of a crowd. it looks effortless. she’s got two blue twin braids that nearly reach the floor, with spikes sticking out of them every which way. she’s petite but lean, slouching over her bass that she’s somehow playing with ungodly long nails. she’s got glitter smeared over both of her eyelids in pink and blue, powder blue clouds climbing up her right side, a mesh top on over a black bra and black cargo pants. several belts are layered, some not even through the loops, with a carabiner on her left side.

her fingers are gliding seamlessly across the strings, her dark brows furrowed and her eyes fixed on them. she’s got torn-up combat boots on, one foot pressing down on a pedal that gives her blue bass an echo.

who the hell is this girl, and why are your eyes so drawn to her?

the crowd is getting a feel for the music, initially. bobbing their heads, swaying along. peeking out from the bar to look at what’s going on. around the middle of the song, more people step up to the crowd, and by the end, there’s loud cheers ringing through the venue.

the vocalist is smiling ear to ear, although still visibly nervous, those nerves have deflated significantly. they readjust, start the next song, and you’re enjoying the set more and more. dancing along to their music, listening to the lyrics you can make out over the bass- all about the undercity. class. education, youth, and girlhood. you’re not sure you’ve heard a take like this.

“fight for yourself, learnin’ before speech/undercity girl, not fit for the world/what’s beyond the mold/not a damn clue/they wanna buy the look, don’t wanna suffer the pain”

soon enough, you have to step back for the forming mosh pit. maybe you’re just tipsy, but you jump in immediately, bumping others and being collateral to flailing arms. spilling some of your cider in the mix and laughing.

about halfway through the set, there’s a pause between songs and the bassist steps up to the mic stand. she makes a motion with both hands that signals ‘forward.’

“alright, girls to the front! anyone else-” she flips her hands and gestures like she’s pushing back. “go to the back! girls to the front, come on!”

the crowd starts shifting accordingly, all the women in the crowd going to the front, with everyone else and in between to the middle and back. you’re right before the stage, front and center, and the music starts up again the second the girl steps back. but gods, her voice.

everything about her is just so effortless. commanding. it’s intriguing.

it’s invigorating.

the vocalist’s raspy voice permeates throughout the venue, those around you starting to mosh again and cheer. the crowd is growing more rowdy, you recognize eve in the middle of the pit. it’s like an explosion has gone off and chaos has erupted throughout the place, the band truly living up to their name. loose cannon.

by the time they’ve finished their set, the crowd is roaring. your vision is starting to blur with the effects of the liquor, or the energy of the venue, you can’t tell. the bassist makes a mock-salute to the crowd, vi raises both of her drumsticks and you hear screams and whistles around you. and the vocalist, her sweet soul, curtsies. you have to stifle a giggle. probably a catholic school dropout, you figure.

the next set is the firelights, and ekko’s voice is as powerful as it ever has been. he can shift between soft and dreamlike to assertive and bold within seconds, and his range is superhuman. flashing lights coordinated with the drums and the smell of someone smoking something behind you, the crowd is raving. you gasp, pulled from your trance when you’re nudged with something. looking behind you only to see a foot. right, crowd surfers.

you help them along, clumsily with one hand. your can is empty, you’re not sure why you haven’t gotten rid of it by now. the person is lowered onto the ground just as “wild rune” starts, and you start belting out the lyrics. one of your favorites. ekko makes direct eye contact with you, gives you a knowing smile, and keeps on.

fuck, you needed this. after all the shit your job puts you through and being under the thumb of piltover 24/7, you’re grateful for the scene. at least this will always be here for you.

“alright, guys, we’re coming up on the end,” ekko says, leaning into the mic after finishing the song. “but we’re gonna hang around for the next set. you guys better stay for them, too!”

there’s laughter from the audience, eve drums a little on the cymbals. he brushes a loc from his face. “and, i wanna make a little announcement. we’ve been working on merch for a while now, and we’re gonna start selling it at our next show. two weeks from now, don’t miss it!”

he points to the crowd with one eyebrow raised, like he’s daring everyone to not come. it only brings more laughter.

“but all of the profits are going to the environment, and zaunite resistance. you have scar-” he gestures to him, “to thank for the designs. anyways, enough talking. this is gonna be our last song of the night, ‘blood under the bridge!’”

there’s cheers, ‘rock on’ signs and beer cans raised. you’ve heard this song a million times on their youtube, but it doesn’t get old. lyrics about piltover’s wealth, the way they’ve built their empire on exploiting zaun and its laborers with no regard for their well-being. blood on their hands, that they can sweep under the rug.

act like it’s never happened. and anyone who dares speak out is deemed untrustworthy. as if they’re crying wolf.

the show ends with raised fists and the firelights taking their bows, the crowd applauding so loud it could make your ears ring. this- the authentic messages and the community is what you come for. gods bless live music.

you take the flyer out of your pocket and unfold it, having to squint a bit to see it in the dim light- there’s still two bands left, and the show is predicted to go on until 2 a.m. at the earliest. the next set isn’t showing any signs of starting to get ready, though, so you sigh to yourself and head out the side door.

the cold air hits you like a slap to the face, making you shudder before you lean on the wall outside. you reach into your pocket once again to take a proper look at the flyer, realizing you still don’t recognize the names of these bands.

well, now you recognize more.

you fold it up and shove it back in your pants, and as you’re turning on your heel to go back in, you hear a voice behind you.

“hey! you got a light?”

you furrow your brows and turn around. it’s that girl from earlier, loose cannon’s bassist. her braids are a little more rustled from the performance, she’s got an unlit cigarette in one hand, and she’s staring at you like you owe her something. you point to yourself as if to say, ‘me?’

“yes, you! do you have a lighter or not?”

you huff, reaching into your opposite pocket to retrieve an old lighter. you haven’t used this one in ages, but you still step closer to the girl and hold it out for her. “i have no idea if it’ll work, but you can try.”

she quickly takes it, puts the cigarette between her lips and starts trying to light it. it clicks a few times, sputters, gives little sparks but no flame. she groans under her breath and her thumb keeps pulling the spark wheel, until it finally gives and lights. she takes a deep inhale, then breathes out smoke that thankfully blows away from you. in that moment, her demeanor visibly relaxes.

“thanks.”

“don’t worry about it.”

she deposits the lighter into her pocket, then leans on the wall with one leg kicked back to take another drag. “i saw you out there, in the front.”

you hum along, not sure where she’s going with this- half confused and half nervous. now that she’s under street lights and even closer, you can see her better.

she’s even prettier like this.

“yeah. you guys were really good, especially for your first gig.”

her lips twitch. not a smile, but close enough. “thanks,” she repeats. “not bad for some amateurs, huh?”

“not bad at all,” you affirm.

you’re not sure why you’re still here. you just came out to look at the flyer in a better light, but there’s this pull you feel toward the girl. this bassist.

“are the songs all originals? i haven’t heard them before.”

she gasps, puts a hand over her chest like she’s offended, but the smile she gives- a genuine one, this time, tells you she isn’t actually. “of course they are! we wrote every single one!”

“right- uh, i didn’t mean to come off as rude.”

“you didn’t,” she waves her hand off, shaking her head. “we don’t do covers. if that’s what you’re asking.”

you shake your head, giving a little shrug. you’re not sure why you even asked that, honestly, maybe just small talk?

usually, you find it so easy to talk to others in the scene. the firelights, the chem sisters.. but not her, for some reason.

“and what’s your name?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. trying to sound a little more confident than you actually are.

“jinx,” she replies. “yours?”

you reply, and jinx nods slowly, taking it in. she takes another drag, and the air between you goes back to silence. awkward, uncomfortable silence that has you shifting your weight between both feet.

“so.. are you gonna play any more shows?”

jinx shrugs. “dunno. depends on what venue will take us, and when it lines up with our schedule. we want to, though.”

“makes sense,” the name of their band rings through your head. loose cannon. “do you have.. instagram? or spotify? somewhere i can keep up, or listen to your music?”

the girl nods once again, and takes out her phone to pull up the instagram app. she double taps to switch accounts, then shows you a profile with the username ‘loose_cannonband.’ you pull out your own phone to type it into the search bar, following them.

“and your music?”

she hums, like she’s recalling what you said. “we don’t have spotify. don’t wanna go through the hassle of copyrights and clearing samples we don’t have permission to use..” she huffs, rolling her eyes. “and they don’t pay anyone shit.”

“fair enough,” you concede.

“but i’m trying to set up a bandcamp.” she takes another drag of the cigarette, nearing the end now, flicks the ash off of the end. “i can send you a link, once it’s up.”

“that’d be cool.”

jinx gives another little smile, dropping the butt onto the ground and crushing it under her booth. “i’ve gotta get back inside,” she hums. “i’ll see you around.”

just those little words make something light up inside of you,

“yeah. i’ll, uh.. you too.”

you kick off your boots at the front door and strip off your vest the second you get into your apartment. with a heavy sigh, you make your way to the bathroom to wash the eyeliner off your face with cold water. it’s close to 4am right now, you’re still buzzing with the aftereffects of the show and the cider. and your interaction with jinx.

eyeliner smears down your cheeks, you wet a washcloth to collect it. then take some cleanser in your hands to wash your face and pat it dry with a hand towel. with the smell of several substances (most secondhand) and sweat clinging to your clothes, you start a warm shower.

the dull silence after nights like these is always a bit of a shock. though you’re grateful for it in part, seeing how much it can get to be. you’ve never understood people who stay for multiple days at music festivals. you don’t have that kind of battery.

it feels like washing away your worries with every droplet of water on your skin, rubbing body wash over your limbs with a washcloth like you’re marking a new day. it’s the same routine every time: come back, take off all the junk, hop in the shower, relax.

you change into a sweater and some sweatpants once you’re back in your bedroom. you don’t mind the run-down condition of your place as much as you mind that there’s no fucking heat, so you have to bundle up every night and sleep under several blankets. sometimes not even that is enough, though trying to get your landlord to actually fix anything is near impossible.

you fish your phone out of your pants pocket- the ones you wore to the show, and swipe it open to check if there’s been any activity. there’s a notification about an overdraft from your bank, a spam email, and three notifications from instagram:

loose_cannonband has followed you

j1iiiiiinxed_ has followed you

j1iiiiiinxed_ would like to send you a message:

thanks for coming out and thanks again for the lighter. i forgot to give it back tho oops

you huff, roll your eyes with the notification (trying to ignore the thrumming of your pulse), and open your messages to reply.

you:

hey dw abt it keep it

to your surprise, the message is marked as seen almost immediately, but you click out to give her a quick follow back, then get the buzz of another message.

j1iiiiiinxed_:

ok i was gonna do that anyway thanks

you:

then why’d you say sorry?

j1iiiiiinxed_:

to be nice

you have to stifle a laugh. this girl, she’s really got some nerve. she seems nice enough, but there’s that feistiness in her that you don’t get close to enough. you climb into bed, tucking yourself under the covers with your phone, and roll onto your side. your eyelids already feel heavy from the exertion of the day- rather night. it’s a race against time until you’re out.

you:

thanks for the sentiment ig lol

it’s marked as seen, then those three little dots show up. then disappear, then reappear. by now, you’re fighting to keep your eyes open, but you feel the buzzing of another incoming message.

j1iiiiiinxed_:

you should come to our next show thooo i’ll lyk when it is! you brought the energy tonight 🔥🔥

you’re asleep before you can type a response.

a week passes with relative silence. you’ve kept busy with your shitty job washing dishes at the last drop, running errands with the little money it makes you. aside from that, you’ve been working on a pair of pants. patches for it, sewing, resizing the cuffs. that’s your way of unwinding after the long days you have to work. there’s been shows since that night, but no time to actually go to one. but soon enough, you’ll have three days off, and you plan on using all of them to revisit the scene.

you walk from the kitchen to behind the bar, taking the next tray of dirty dishes in your arms. you turn to go back, but then hear your name being called. looking around, all of your coworkers are busy. and then you see a familiar face at the bar, waving her hand. jinx.

she’s got a slight flush to her freckled cheeks. probably drunk, you figure, but she’s in a little more of a casual get-up. her long hair is tied into its usual braids, except this time they’re twisted and pinned into two low space buns at the back of her head. she’s wearing pink eyeshadow on one eye and blue on the other, with faded black lipstick. the stain on the edge of her glass explains that. as well as a black off-shoulder crop top with a rhinestone skull on it.

she looks just as pretty as she did up on stage, though you try to put that out of your mind.

you walk over, tray still in hand, with a cocked eyebrow. like you’re daring her to say something.

“hey, you,” she smiles.

“hey,” you reply. “you, uh.. come here a lot?”

“yeah,” her finger absentmindedly traces the rim of her glass, while her other is supporting her chin. “have been since i was a kid. i didn’t know you worked here.”

“i wash dishes. don’t come up here often.”

“that explains it,” she says. “doesn’t explain why you left me on seen last week.”

your eyebrows raise at this. you have to dig through your memories for what she’s talking about- when did you leave her on seen? when did she even text you? you remember her performing, but not her texting you. then it comes to you, right after the show. right.

“i didn’t mean to,” you sigh. “i was dead tired when i got home. and half-asleep by the time you followed me. you sent that text and i fell asleep with my phone in my hand.”

jinx laughs at this. an actual, hearty laugh with her tossing her head back. she shakes her head in amusement, then points one finger at you.

“you,” she says. “are interesting. i like that. aaaanyways,” she takes a quick swig of her drink. “i finally set up that bandcamp. and we recorded a new song. i wanted to ask if you wanna come over and listen?”

come over? did you hear her right? you freeze, unblinking, looking at the wood of the counter instead of at jinx. your fingers are still curled around the tray, but you’re pulled out of your thoughts by the girl snapping her fingers in front of your face.

“hellooo? did you hear me?”

“yeah,” you murmur. “just wasn’t sure i heard you right.”

“well, you did,” she huffs, smiling like you’ve just said something funny. she takes a napkin from across the counter. “got a pen?”

you pull one from the other side, then hand it to her. “i’m not off for another four hours.”

“fine by me,” the girl scribbles down her address on the napkin, then slides that and the pen over to you. “just swing by whenever it works for you.”

you stuff them both into your back pocket. you’re really not supposed to be chatting up customers as someone who works in the back, and you suspect you’ll be yelled at if you stay any longer. as much as you wish you could stay longer.

“i will,” you use your other hand to support the tray and toss a “see you later” over your shoulder.

holy shit. she just invited you to her place.

trying to find jinx’s place from the last drop was a pain in the ass. google maps said it was only a sixteen minute walk, but it took you in every direction. through twisting alleys and tripping over loose bottles, she’s deep in the lanes. but you find yourself there eventually, having made it inside of the apartment complex and standing in front of a door that reads 204-B.

you raise your fist to knock, but the door swings open and you gasp.

“holy-”

“sorry! didn’t mean to scare ya, toots,” she giggles, but steps aside so you can enter.

you step into the living room, and the place isn’t much nicer than yours. the living room has a red crushed velvet couch facing a flat-screen tv, a coffee table that’s missing a leg and has piled up, untouched snacks on top of it. the walls are covered in graffiti that you figure her landlord doesn’t know about, or she’s already been fined for.

she leads you through to her bedroom, at the end of the hallway past two other rooms. the place is just about what you’d expect from the girl: pink and blue walls with countless band posters plastered on them: le tigre, alice glass, VIAL, x-ray spex, lykke li, babymetal, bikini kill.. you’ve lost track of all of them. her bass is on a stand in the corner of the room, beside her unmade bed, along with various amps, string changes, pedals, and speakers. looking at her bass closer (and sober), you suspect that she’s tinkered a lot with it.

a little box tv on the dresser across from her bed, with a shattered mirror behind it and an assortment of paint cans and loose bolts surrounding it.

jinx gestures vaguely to her bed, and you sit down, finding it surprisingly comfortable. she pulls a laptop from underneath, then sits down beside you. the smell of cigarette smoke and fruity perfume clings to her, a mix you could become addicted to.

she opens up her laptop then a tap she already had prepared, just a simple media link.

“aaaalright,” she hovers over the play button. “you ready?”

you nod. “ready as i’ll ever be.”

she clicks play, and immediately, it’s heavy. gravelly vocals come through the speakers, slow and drawn out, while vi’s drumming keeps a steady beat. the bass blends perfectly with the guitar, and the lyrics.

“push me down, why don’t you?/some stupid boy whose mama still coddles/let that money do the talkin’ for ya/my body, a source of pain/tell me what i want, but won’t give me what i need”

it’s good. really good. their sound clearly takes inspiration from the godmothers, but it’s still so uniquely their own. jinx lip syncs some of the lyrics, swaying her head to them.

“this is great,” you murmur, right before the ending bridge. “another original?”

the song comes to an end soon enough, a harsh and abrupt one. chaotic. just like her. she shuts her laptop and shoves it back under her bed, turning to face you with a grin.

“yep, another original!” she crosses her legs under her. “has to do with the state of medical care, especially for girls.. reproductive, gender-affirming, even just our pain not being taken seriously. it’s impossible to come by a doctor down here, and when you complain about something, they write you off! but the rich piltie guys and the ones in charge aren’t getting that same treatment, are they?”

you shake your head. she’s right, of course.. all of the lyrics you’ve heard from loose cannon have resonated with you so far. they speak to issues of not just the lower class, but the women of the lower class- and you haven’t seen enough of that.

“we wanna make music by the girls, for the girls,” she continues. “and.. i dunno. i saw you dancing and felt like you really connected to our stuff. you get it.”

it makes something in you contract. your mouth goes dry, but you swallow, and nod once again. “i do,” you say. “it just says something a lot of other bands don’t.”

jinx’s grin widens in self-satisfaction. she’s looking right at you, not like a fan, but like a friend.

that’s usually one of your favorite parts of this scene. you’ve been to the homes of firelights members several times, hung out with the chem sisters outside of shows and regularly text several other band members in zaun. the dynamic is grounded. but somehow, you feel different about this. and not a bad kind of different, one that pulls you toward her and makes you so nervous you don’t know what to do with yourself. your eyes linger on her lips. then her eyes. then her lips again.

“sucks that the others are out, or i’d introduce you to them, too.”

the others. must be who occupies those other two rooms.

“you live with your bandmates?”

she gives a little ‘mhm,’ gesturing to the side. where the other rooms are connected. “vi’s room is at the other end, and lux is in between us.. neither of them are really ever here. vi’s usually at her girlfriend’s place doing gods-know-what, and lux is up topside in college.”

“in college?” your eyes widen a little, gaze finally dragging away from her lips, an amused scoff escaping you. you’re assuming lux is the vocalist. it’s not that it’s discouraged for punks to be college-educated, or that none are, it’s just.. rare.

“yeah. at the academy. literature,” she scoffs, wrinkling her nose like the word is sour on her tongue. but jinx shrugs just as quickly. “helps with writing lyrics, though. she always handles that.”

“why’s an academy girl in the undercity’s warehouse shows?”

jinx hums, pursing her lips. “rich girl from demacia whose parents don’t ‘approve of her lifestyle’.. she likes to read and write, but she walked past a show once and poked her head in just ‘cause. and here she is. double-life type deal.”

“hm.”

that sweet demeanor, soft voice, nervous attitude.. it makes sense. but if she can write lyrics like the ones she does, and jinx, someone who’s actually from here and familiar with the scene approves, you trust her judgement.

jinx lets out a heavy sigh then, and her pink eyes light up. suddenly, she’s a lot closer than she was just a second ago, enough that you can see the little gap between her teeth and the shadows her lashes cast below her eyes. and feel her breath on your skin.

“so,” she drawls, “you seeing anyone?”

oh, fuck.

god. you suppose this is the type of question you’ve wanted, but nothing would’ve prepared you for actually being asked it.

“uh, no,” you murmur. “not right now.”

something in jinx’s gaze twists. curious, a bit playful, a bit dangerous. it makes heat rise to your cheeks, and your pulse quicken. she’s so beautiful.

“lucky me, then.”

“are you?”

“nope,” she pops the ‘p’ at the end, then leaning back to rest her weight on her hands behind her. even though you’re grateful she’s being respectful, part of you feels some sort of loss at her inching away. “i mean, i’ve been with people before. nothing serious, though.”

you don’t have a chance with this girl. that’s what you’re telling yourself, but why else would she be asking about your relationship status? and saying she’s lucky.. it’s confusing. jinx is confusing. you don’t have it in you to be forward, not like she does. always too nervous to act on anything.

you’re starting to see just how much chaos is ingrained into her very being. she thrives off it. she’s looking at you as if studying you, your features, with that same little smirk tugging at her plum lips. it makes you both want to retreat into yourself, and pounce on her.

“you don’t want anything serious?” you ask. it doesn’t matter to you either way, but something needs to fill this pause.

“i never said that, just that i’ve never had it,” she states. “who knows? maybe if the right girl comes along. seein’ where the wind takes me for now.”

and her gaze lingering on your eyes, your lips, gives you some kind of hope that you could be the ‘right girl.’ you open your mouth to say something, but jinx perks up and runs over to her desk to grab a sheet of paper.

“oh, right! we got another gig! here’s the flyer.” she points at your chest, pressing her fingertip there with a giggle. “i better see you there.”

you’re about to arrive when your phone buzzes in your pocket. you take it out and open it to a new message.

j1iiiiiinxed_:

are u coming tonight pretty?

you:

yea im about to be there actually

j1iiiiiinxed_:

AWESOMEEEEE i’ll see u soon 😈

you’ve only been to this venue once before. it’s technically a stage, but it’s really just someone’s backyard patio that they converted into one. jinx calling you ‘pretty’ is affecting you more than it probably should, and you’re not sure what to do with that- so you decide not to do anything with it yet. the band L4N3S owns the house, a six-piece grindcore band that’s somehow stuck together for the past ten years. the only members you recognize are their bassist, sevika, and the vocalist, finn. naturally, they’ve taken a lot of newer members of the scene under their wing and hosted them as guests, and it seems that loose cannon is their next guest.

the flyer said that L4N3S would be playing first, then loose cannon. it’s about what you expected. their music is incredible, their stage performance unreal, but the shows get packed quickly. that’s probably part of the reason jinx and the others accepted: exposure.

you take out a half-smoked blunt from your pocket, lighting and taking a puff before you go around to the entrance.

to your surprise, it’s not too busy yet, maybe due to the cold, and the members are already setting up. you’re not sure they’ve ever done that before. another drag from your blunt, and a soft feeling spreading throughout your body with it, you see a few familiar faces. they smile at you, wave, you wave back. a few make small talk with you about the shows, where you’ve been- you explain that you’ve been working and took off today since you missed it so much.

since you missed it. definitely not because you wanted to support a certain band, or certain band member. you’ve been texting back and forth every night, bought loose cannon’s songs on bandcamp, you’ve visited her place a few more times. spoken with lux and vi, who are both friendly and welcoming all the same. how the hell did you not know that jinx and vi are sisters?

and then you see lux and vi, lux with a notebook (of presumably lyrics) in her hands and vi helping her go over them. jinx is nowhere to be seen. you try to shake the thought from your head. another hit relaxes your nerves that little bit more.

people pour in soon enough. the yard goes from you and a few hours to you and seemingly the rest of zaun, with L4N3S performing a quick sound check and finn asking “how’s everyone doing tonight?” to which the crowd erupts into cheers. lux and vi stick to the sidelines, but still no jinx. even though you’re familiar with most of their songs, you spend most of the set shifting your weight between your feet. chewing on the skin of your lower lip. the pit opens up, you’re pushed and swayed every which way as people crash into each other and dance. and you decide fuck it, you’re not letting whatever this feeling is get the best of you.

you elbow past the crowd and jump in. aimlessly dancing, without a rhyme or reason, you get a knee to the back and a spike to the cheek. that’s probably going to bruise, but it’s later’s problem. finn droning on about shimmer over a heavy beat spurs you, smiling, laughing as you’re pushed and bumped around. it doesn’t get rid of that feeling, but it makes you feel wild and free. when you finally back off from the pit, L4N3S is wrapping up their set. saying their ‘thank you’s as the audience roars and raises their cans, a drop of beer spilling onto your shoulder. lovely.

loose cannon starts setting up promptly, without jinx. the mic stand is adjusted to lux’s height while vi twirls her drumsticks around in her hands. the blonde spots you in the crowd and gives a polite smile, which you return, before the pair huddle together to whisper about something. they’re supposed to be starting at 9:30, it’s 9:27- and you expected no different. L4N3S isn’t the most punctual either.

just as the person next to you taps your shoulder to ask, “when are they coming on?” jinx comes running through the gate and slings the bass off her back, plugging it into its amp and quickly running scales to make sure everything’s in tune.

her version of ‘in tune’ is slightly out of tune.

she gives a swift nod to the others, and they start. it’s 9:43 now.

the first song in their setlist is the same as the gig you saw them at prior. it’s just as messy and uncoordinated as you remember it (and that’s not well, given your intoxication that night), with somehow even more energy. lux has this quiet self-assurance, so much might wrapped in such a delicate image.

it’s evident not everyone here is familiar with them- how could they be? but the more time goes on, the more people start to move with it, take out their phones to record. whistle and cheer at certain lyrics. all the while, you can only stay focused on jinx.

hair tied into two high bubble braids, with spiked cuffs around the tops. a pair of black fingerless gloves, a black cropped tank over a pair of ripped-up pink fishnet tights she’s converted into a top. she’s got a blue tartan miniskirt on, with mismatched tights- one pink thigh-high, one blue knee-high, accompanied by the same pair of black combat boots she wore to the first show. she’s got glitter sprayed in her hair, with plum lipstick swiped on and messy black eyeshadow. she’s a vision.

but you’re here to support your friend. you’re here for the music. so as the first song comes to a close, and lux introduces the band, you swallow the curiosity of how jinx’s lips would feel against yours, and how she would sound whispering in your ear.

she’s spray painted her name on the inside of your brain. left her mark in permanent ink.

the set list is the exact same, you find, but with their new song shoved in at the end. and by janna, it sounds even better in person. you whisper along with the lyrics, watching from right behind the pit- the raw passion in lux’s voice. the way jinx’s hunched over form sways and jerks at specific moments, just letting herself feel and embody the music.

live music never fails to amaze you. but this is another level.

“jinx, i- fuck, that was amazing,” you breathe out. the second the set ended, the girl came running over. of course she spotted you while playing, made eye contact with you, smiled at you. it made your heart do that funny thing in your chest that you can’t quite understand. “and you played your new song!”

she gives an excited giggle, taking you into her arms and wrapping you in a bone-crushing embrace. “i know, right?! who knew we had that in us?”

“i did,” you say, and the girl pulls back to look at you. really look at you, smiling ear-to-ear and rosy eyes lit up. her arms still wrapped around around you, and in a leap of faith, you slink yours around her middle. “you’re a natural.”

jinx lets out an amused ‘hmph,’ her face gradually growing closer to your own. like that night on her bed, listening to her song. with her so close you’re sharing breath, your heartbeat growing quicker with every second, she tilts her head to properly lean in for a kiss, and then you realize what’s happening.

and you jump back.

and then you curse yourself for jumping back.

“oh shit, sorry-” jinx gasps, her eyes blowing wide. “i.. fuck. i didn’t mean to.. i guess i was reading this wrong.”

she immediately steps back, holding her hands up as if in surrender. a flush on her cheeks visible in the dim light, and she looks the most vulnerable you’ve seen her yet. it tugs at your heartstrings, how fucking wrong she is.

“no, no-” you scramble to gain your bearings, smoothing your hair back with one hand. how do you explain to her that you’re an anxious wreck, you feel like she’s miles out of your league, and most of all, you have no idea what the hell you’re doing, when she so clearly does? “you’re not, i’m just.. nervous.”

she tilts her head, this time as if studying you, but a little smile tugs at her lips- her demeanor softer than you’re used to. the girl’s hands come to rest on your shoulders, and your palms are sweating.

“there’s nothin’ to be nervous about, toots. it’s just me.”

“let me try again,” you breathe. “please.”

she stands still, her gaze sweet somehow. you inch closer, slower than you’d like, but trying so hard not to fuck this up- and your lips meet. soft, slow, and unsure, your arms loosely draping around her neck. she relaxes into your hold, grip tightening on your shoulders, while you find an eventual rhythm. her lips are soft, plum lipstick undoubtedly transferring onto your own.

but you realize quickly that you could become hooked on this feeling. you already are.

you pull back, a goofy smile stretching across your face while jinx lets out a breathy laugh. “how was that?”

“perfect,” she hums, leaning in to press a quick peck to your lips. then another, and another, meeting again and again in the middle as her hands come to tangle in your hair. “..you wanna take this back to my place?”

jinx’s apartment is just as disorganized as always, her room filled with laundry that hasn’t been put away and illuminated by blue LED lights. she has you perched on the edge of the bed while she sits next to you, her lips locked onto yours- still going slow, but this time firmer. with a little more hunger. you let out a soft noise, something between a grunt and a moan, and her tongue teases the seam of your lips.

you allow her in, arms wrapped around her middle. you’re not sure where else to put them, you’re not sure what to do when jinx’s tongue brushes with yours and your chests press flush together. you try to follow her pace, tongue exploring her and lips creating that gentle ebb and flow.

“mm,” she whispers. “you feel so fuckin’ good..”

“shit, so do you,” you breathe out. “..the others?”

“at the last drop. they won’t be back for a while.”

you sigh against the girl, your hands settling on her waist. starting to figure this out. her own start to explore, running over your shoulders, your lower back, squeezing at your thighs before they brush over your tits and squeeze. and you gasp.

“feel good?” “uh huh,” you nod. heat is rising to your cheeks. your heart is beating like an 808 in your chest, and jinx continues to knead at your chest, but her face softens.

“you’re shaking, hon.” “huh?”

“you’re shaking,” she repeats. “y’alright?”

you press your lips into a thin line, nodding once again. if it wasn’t before, you’re certain your inexperience is showing now. her hands fall to your hips, gloves long since forgotten, gentle as she rubs over your clothes with her thumbs.

“yeah, i, just.. i’ve never..” your voice comes out quiet. your gaze is focused on some fold in the bedsheets, instead of her- “never done this before.”

silence follows.

your heart is still thrumming in your chest, and the quiet stretches on so quickly that you almost think you’ve fucked this up. you force yourself to look back at the girl, and she’s got her gaze locked on you, mouth agape.

“..no shit?”

you shake your head.

and her lips stretch into a smile.

“huh,” she murmurs, fingers giving your hips a light squeeze. “i didn’t see that one coming. i mean.. you’re so pretty.”

you’re certain she can hear your heartbeat loud and clear by now. she leans in, pressing a slow kiss to your jaw, then another, following the soft curve.

“that’s okay. we don’t have to do anything more than.. this.”

your throat bobs as you swallow, tilting your head back to allow the girl easier access. the room feels like it’s sweltering, swallowing you whole, but one thought echoes in your mind: more.

“no, i want this,” you whisper. “i.. fuck, i just don’t know how.”

jinx laughs at that. for a second, your brows furrow, and you think you’ve said something wrong, but she just meets you in a quick kiss.

“i’ll show you, okay? i can be real gentle. slow. sweet. all that shit. all you,” she boops your nose, bringing a little giggle from you despite your nerves. “need to do is relax, and let me do my thing.”

she scooches a bit closer, closing the distance between you again. still slow, but careful, almost reverent. your hands find her waist, settling there and squeezing, and jinx lets out a low hum against your lips. as it goes on, you’re finding your way through this. feeling the girl melt into you, feeling her tug your bottom lip behind her teeth and let out a chuckle as you whine. your hands move down to her hips, then brush right above her ass.

“you can touch, y’know,” she husks. “i won’t bite. well.. not hard, at least.”

the noise she lets out when you squeeze her rear makes heat rush straight between your legs. she kisses you again, hard and hungry this time, licking into your mouth and letting your teeth clash. you slowly lay down, while jinx crawls on top of you, stripping you of your top. and her pupils blow wide.

no bra. jinx’s fingers brush over your collarbones, and her lips move in a firm line down your jawline, descending the expanse of your neck- teeth scraping the skin and suckling to form dark marks. her hands are cold to the touch, enough to startle you at first. it quickly blossoms into a pleasant- and dare you say exciting feeling.

all while your fingers splay out across her back, only able to take in sharp inhales and let out little whimpers. your hands are roaming everywhere- her waist, her hips, the plush of her ass, her thighs. the girl’s hips are starting to roll against you, slow enough to not scare you off, but quick enough to make you feel like your head is spinning.

and then one of her manicured nails finds your nipple, and your breath stutters. she smiles, mouth open in an ‘aha!’ expression while she lightly scrapes the bud, then takes it between her finger and thumb.

“ah- feels.. more,” you mutter, and jinx’s smile only grows wider. her lips brush the skin of your breastbone, descending down to plush skin, then finally press right over your nipple- undoubtedly leaving purple stains. she looks up at you once, before her tongue flicks out to lick your nipple. a shiver goes up your spine.

you’ve never felt anything like this before. not even when you got curious late at night, twisting your nipples between your own fingers just to get a little taste of it. nothing you could do to yourself holds up to this.

“i’ll give ya more, pretty.”

her lips form a seal around your nipple, and she starts suckling. you let out a moan, a noise you didn’t even know you could make, and your back arches into her- all while the girl keeps massaging your other tit in her hand.

“ungh! ah, keep going, keep going-”

jinx chuckles against you. she tugs your nipple between her teeth the slightest bit, making you keen. she chuckles lowly against you, sending vibrations up down your spine and skittering throughout your body. your gaze is fixed on her, filled with something you can’t quite identify- and maybe with anyone else, you’d hit the ground running. not with jinx.

she lets go of your tit with an exaggerated ‘pop’ and descends down your sternum with soft pecks, her tongue coming out every now and again to just get a taste and her teeth sinking into supple skin. jinx is trying her best to be gentle, truly, it’s just.. not what she’s used to.

when she’s had other girls in her bed, it was quick. rough, wild, over as soon as it started and ending with shared cigarettes and love marks. but you, her friend who’s supported her since the beginning of her journey- literally, who’s trusting her with something you’ve never given anyone else, she can’t bear the thought of that with you.

not tonight, at least. maybe another time. fuck, she hopes there’ll be another time.

she sits back on her knees long enough to tug her own tank off, then the fishnet top, not over her head but instead popping the netting open until she can slide it off. your eyes widen and mouth goes dry at the sight, perky breasts with perfect silver barbells through each nipple.

“nipple piercings and fishnets?” you chuckle. “bold choice.”

“the risk factor makes it more fun! and i don’t mind a little pain.”

jinx dives back down to continue. every new bite leaves marks blooming on your skin while she descends down your body, over your stomach and down to your v-line, stopping just above the waistline of those pants you threw on so you could get to the gig in time. round eyes look up at you, a silent plea for permission, to which you nod.

“words, baby.”

“go ahead,” you breathe out. “take ‘em off.”

her fingers fly to the buckle of your belt. slide it out of its loops, before she’s popping the button and tugging your pants down your thighs. discarding them somewhere on the floor, while she runs her hands up and down your thighs. she trails kisses back up your body, landing on your lips, and you meet her with an urgency you didn’t know you had. your fingers find those perfect tits and squeeze- and you swallow up the raspy moan she gives you.

those sounds. they’re so much better than the ones that come from her bass.

“yeah, just like that,” she breathes out. your thighs are pressed together, unconsciously shifting for friction- growing wetter by the second. jinx’s hand sneaks between them, gently coaxing them apart, and her fingers find your clothed heat. her lips tug into a slow grin. “you’re fuckin’ soaked.. you want it that bad, huh?”

you should be embarrassed by her words. but you nod quicker than you can think, fingers still squeezing the plush of her tits, brushing over her nipples, making her breath stutter.

“i won’t keep you waiting, then.”

she tugs your panties down just as quickly as your pants, pulling them off your ankles and tossing them janna-knows-where. jinx slides the rings off her fingers before parting silky, glistening folds. her middle finger finds your clit, eliciting a shaky gasp from you. jinx’s eyes are fixed on you, your expression, your parted lips.

“how’s that, toots?”

“good, really fucking good?”

she chuckles, starting to apply a little more pressure and circle the sensitive bundle of nerves. you let out quiet whines, hands settling on the fat of her hips and gripping as if it’ll help keep you steady.

“yeaaah.. good,” she leans down to mouth at your neck, suckling at the spot directly below your ear and whispering little praises. “you’re so pretty, y’know that?”

“aah- jinx, baby, more,” you gasp. your chest is heaving. your cheeks and the tips of your ears flushed. “please, please..”

“already beggin’?” she giggles, but picks up the pace regardless. “thought you’d have a little more restraint in ya.”

“stop teasing.”

jinx smiles, but doesn’t waste any more time before she replaces her middle finger with her thumb and slips her middle finger into your neglected hole. you’re dripping for it, sucking her in, and jinx scoffs in amusement at just how easily she went in. she works over your clit at a steady pace while thrusting her middle finger in and out of you. drinking up all of the lewd moans you let out.

“that’s- oh, god!”

the girl crooks her finger inside you, and then finds that sweet spot. the one that makes your mind go blank and your back arch into her.

“found it,” she sing-songs. “shit, pussy’s fuckin’ perfect. think you can take another?”

you nod frantically, and before you can even say ‘yes’ jinx is sinking another finger into your cunt. still circling your clit with her thumb, while she thrusts in and out of you, drawing those rhythmic ‘uh-uh-uh’s from you.

it’s a lot. the girl’s fingers can reach places you’ve never been able to yourself, and it’s in this moment you thank whatever drew her to play bass. clearly those skills translate well.

all that you can think about is jinx. jinx, jinx, jinx, face to face with her perfect eyes and shocking blue hair and intoxicating voice. never did you think going to some warehouse show would land you here.

you love it.

heat gathers in your lower stomach, growing tighter and tighter. jinx can feel plush walls fluttering around her, your moans growing more high-pitched and staggered. she laughs lowly to herself before pressing down firmer on your clit, and hearing you cry out.

“close, hon?”

“yeah, yeahyeahfuck-”

her teeth sink into your shoulder. not enough to break skin, but enough to make you keen- gentle and exhilarating all the same.

you’re not technically jinx’s. this is fresh, and whatever the hell it is, you sure haven’t defined it. but that possessive part of the girl relishes in the thought of being the first to make you cum.

one more firm press to your clit, and you shatter. slamming into you like a truck, your vision going white and mind completely blank- it’s like your world has stopped for a minute. you scream out jinx’s name like it’s the only thing you can hold onto, spine curling off the mattress.

and jinx? she’s grinning ear to ear, the feeling of your cunt wrapped tight around her fingers and arousal dripping down her hand thrilling. she gives slow, shallow thrusts to ride you through it, voice softer in your ear. “there you go, that’s it.”

“god, oh..” your voice is breathy, already hoarse from all the noises she drew from you. “that.. you’re insane, jinx.”

she slowly slides her fingers out of you with a giggle. eyes fixed on yours as she brings her hand to her lips, swirling her tongue around her fingers and cleaning every last drop of your slick- it’s such a vulgar sight, but damn if it doesn’t make you wet all over again. you pray she doesn’t notice how flustered you’re becoming.

“you’re just figuring that out?” she peppers little kisses on your cheeks, soft and slow to ease you down. “..how was that for a first time?”

“good. so good. amazing.”

she grins once again, pressing a firmer kiss to your jawline. that’s all jinx needed to hear.

the girl draws back for just a second to get up, and grab a towel from the bathroom, then reenters the room. mattress dipping under her weight as she crawls back between your legs, tenderly cleaning your inner thighs. you let out a little whine under her attention, to which she gently shushes you and whispers soft assurances. ‘you were perfect.’ ‘it’s alright.’ ‘i know, baby.’

several marks have bloomed on your skin by now. on your neck. collarbones. breasts. ribs. hips. thighs. jinx is something of an artist. maybe they’ll serve as decoration for the next show.

“i wanna give you somethin’ more,” she hums, voice low as the girl hovers above you. bubble braids a little messier now, voice gravely. “do you think you can handle that, trinket?”

you don’t even think about it before you nod.

realistically, you’re spent. you’ve just lost your virginity and had the most mind-blowing orgasm of your life, and your breath is still trying to catch up to you. but the heat between your thighs hasn’t left, and neither has the adrenaline.

“yeah,” you whisper. “i can handle it. i wanna.”

you don’t need to tell jinx twice.

she hums to herself with a little self-satisfied smile, patting your hip before crawling off the bed once again. you turn your head to see her rummaging through one of her dresser drawers, dark brows knitted together as she surveys her options. she surveys through a few different options for dildos, and they’re big. way bigger than you think you can bear. but she makes a little ‘aha!’ noise to herself. and promptly slides down her skirt and panties.

finally, part of you screams, and holy shit. she pulls a black harness onto her hips, buckling it on and getting a pink glittering dildo situated in the center. it’s smaller than the others you saw her contemplating, which you’re internally thanking her for, but still a large task. the leather digging into her skin only makes the perfect peach of her ass more prominent. you’ve only just stopped trembling in the aftershocks, yet the slick dripping from between your thighs is so evident.

she catches you staring. flashes you a little smile, but doesn’t comment.

jinx tugs the straps tight, then is back on top of you in a matter of seconds. she drags her hand over the shaft, pumping the silicone cock as she lines it up. you whimper at the sight, and gasp when the tip catches your entrance. just that is a shock.

“i’ll go slow,” she promises. “but you gotta talk to me, okay? lemme know what’s what.”

“okay,” you respond, your breath stuttering as you feel the bulbous tip go in. “ngh, jinx..” jinx pushes in, inch by inch. at first, it burns. stretching you further than you ever have been. your brows furrow, jaw tenses as you try to accommodate for the girth, but jinx places one hand on your cheek to gently coax you to relax. it does the trick. you’re still sensitive and flushed from your previous orgasm, though the way jinx is handling you makes you feel so cared for.

soft, yet unpredictable. wild, but she knows her limits.

she’s about halfway in when your cunt finally starts to give, and jinx eases the rest in until she’s bottomed out. for a second, the two of you are still, breathing deep as you adjust. jinx is studying your expression closely for even the slightest hint of pain or discomfort. after a moment, the stinging feeling washes away, and you take a breath in.

“you can move.”

jinx tilts her head as if to ask if you’re sure, and you nod. slowly, the girl starts to thrust- in, out, in, out. her cock dragging along your walls as little moans spill from your lips. her bangs are hanging over you like a curtain, some of it sticking to the sheen of sweat on her forehead.

“fuck, feels- feels good,” you breathe. her lips tug upward at that, and she takes the initiative to go a little faster. one of your legs wraps around her toned waist, heel digging into her back as she fucks you firm and deep.

you throw your head back once you feel her cockhead kissing your cervix, a guttural moan ripping from the depths of your chest.

you can feel her everywhere. jinx is only getting quicker. you’re only getting louder. grunting above you in her exertion, abs clenching. she’s in your fucking guts, scrambling your insides and thoughts so effortlessly.

your arms fly to wrap around her, nails raking into her back- jinx lets out a little hiss through her teeth at the sting, but when she somehow drives even deeper into you, you know it was the right move.

“gods, you’re takin’ it so well,” she groans. “all for me, huh? yeah?”

“all- guh! all for you,” you nod.

jinx’s bedroom is filled with the filthy sound of skin against skin. the wet plap of her dick impaling you again and again and your pussy squelching, soaking, dripping onto the bedsheets while a white ring of arousal forms around the base of the strap.

dark lips trail up your neck, nipping at your earlobe. whispering dirty praises into your ear- “best pussy i’ve ever had, holy shit,” and “you look so damn beautiful like this.”

you drag her face down to crash your lips into hers, no longer caring about anxiety or nerves or any of the shit that plagued you while loose cannon played. just the feel of your tongue diving into her mouth, your teeth clashing, the moans she drinks up. you’re near wailing from it all.

one of her hands squeezes at your tit, twisting your nipple again and making you squeal like a needy animal. you swear you can hear the bedframe slam against the wall at least once.

and you feel it again, that heat between your hips. like an overwound clock. you’re right there, teetering on the edge of ecstasy, and jinx’s arm quickly jumps down to rub at your already-swollen clit. her gapped teeth sink into her bottom lip, all while she keeps impaling you on her cock.

“i gotcha,” she hums. “come on. make a mess on my dick.”

that does it. you tip over the edge once again, it slams into you like a pile of bricks. even more intense than the last. your ears ring, you’re screaming out her name and babbling incoherent words about how fucking incredible all of this feels. she keeps fucking you through it, gradually slowing her pace, until jinx comes to a halt. slowly easing out of you, and sitting back.

flushed chest. a droplet of sweat trailing between her pierced tits, face sweaty.

“holy fucking shit.”

she barks a quick laugh. leans down to press a wet kiss to your cheek, and hurries to unfasten the strap. it’s tossed to the side, probably around the same place as your clothes. jinx eases herself down beside you, gently using her hand to turn your face towards her. all of the chaos has evaporated, only leaving behind a soft girl. one that you hope to see emerge again.

“you okay?”

you nod your head slowly. you’re wrecked, ruined, but you feel the best you have in ages.

your first time, and it blew your mind.

“more than okay. i’m.. i’m great.”

jinx gives a little smile, a satisfied ‘hm,’ as the back of your hand comes to stroke your cheek. almost lovingly, if you didn’t know any better. you’ll let yourself think that’s her intention.

“you did perfect.” she presses a chaste peck to your lips. “do you need anything? blanket, water, a snack..”

you shake your head. the water would be a wise option, seeing as you’ve damn near screamed yourself hoarse, but you don’t want to break this bubble you’ve created. you want to hold onto the moment like your life depends on it.

“just you.. maybe a blanket.”

her smile remains, and jinx opens up her arms in invitation. you immediately accept, shuffling to settle in her lean arms, and jinx presses another kiss into your hair. she uses one hand to pull one of her blankets up and over you securely, only to settle back against the pillows. bracketed in her arms, you feel safe. cherished.

“you’re good at that,” you whisper.

“yeah? i’ve had a lot of practice.”

you lightly swat her arm. “don’t make me think about other women while i’m in your bed.”

“alright, alright,” she chuckles, kissing your forehead this time. “if it helps, none of them where anywhere near as gorgeous as you. and.. i kinda wanna keep you around.”

your heart does a little flip in your chest.

you’re skin-to-skin with her, and she’s just admitted that. jinx, the chaotic bassist who doesn’t stick around too long or commit to anything.

“i’d like that,” you hum.

“good,” she gives you a gentle little squeeze. “you’re not goin’ anywhere. you’re trapped.”

you’ll gladly be trapped if it means getting to stay like this with jinx.

“wouldn’t dream of going anywhere.”

svnnynostalgia

I genuinely ascended while reading this... ITS SO GOOD UGHH

#svnnynostalgia #jinx x reader #jinx x fem reader #jinx smut

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs

thegildedsvn