OF/sex worker reader who faked moans in content x loyal fan Ghost who's discovering this for the first time ? (afab but gender neutral y/n)
When he finally, finally, after months of steady support from afar — it had taken a while, in between missions, for him to really track you down — has you to himself, he thinks he's doing something wrong.
He's got you pulled flush against him, front to back, with your legs spread so he can touch that pretty cunt. He's barely even touched you so far. Not that anyone'd be able to tell, feeling how wet you are for him, he thinks. But he's barely started and you're already making these noises.
Ghost has been watching your content as often as possible since he found it months ago. He knows what you sound like — or at least he thought he did. Instead of the loud, confident moans that he is rapidly realizing sounded a little fake, he's hearing whimpering, gasping moans slip from your lips. They spill out like you almost can't help it.
"Sweetheart," Ghost rumbles. He presses his lips close to your ear so you have no choice but hear him. All the collabs he was forced to sit through while imagining himself in your partners' places flits through his mind. You never sounded like this. "Did none o' them make you feel good, love?"
You suddenly go a little quiet. Were probably hoping he wouldn't call you out on it, huh? That won't do, though. Ghost roughly circles your clit with the pads of his fingers until you can't help but whine under his attention, and then he asks again. He's certain of your answer even before you nod, head jerking as you twitch under his fingers.
"Poor thing," he rumbles into your ear, voice low. "Don't worry, sweetheart, we got all night. I'll take care of ya."
Five minutes later and you still can’t move your arms and legs.
It’s a weird feeling. The skin on your arms and legs tingle, like they’ve fallen asleep, but no matter how hard you try, you can’t move them. The most you can do is weakly twitch your fingers and toes.
Your vision blurs every few seconds but you can see enough to recognize this is not your home.
It’s some kind of unfinished basement. Fluorescent lights flicker and hum above you. The air smells musty and reeks of mold.
Oh my God.
It’s all what you can think over and over as panic starts to overtake your body. Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God–
“Oh, you’re awake!”
You might’ve screamed if you weren’t gagged by a rag.
Your vision blurs again, but when you finally refocus, the setting changes. In front of you stands a masked man dressed in green and black from head to toe. You couldn’t see his eyes, they were covered by orange visors. Still, you recognized him.
Everyone in your town knew him. He was the local psychopath that was terrorizing your city for years.
“I’m glad you made it!” Vigilante continues, oblivious to your panic. “I definitely thought I went overboard with the sedative there. Sorry about that! I’m not used to taking people alive.” He laughs and you instantly feel sick at how cheerful he sounds.
He squats down to your level, examining you. You shrink away from him, but considering how weak you were and your bound wrists and ankles, you didn't get very far.
He takes a minute, fully taking in your limp form, before he hums in satisfaction. Your heartbeat slows the tiniest bit, but you don’t feel any safer.
You know what Vigilante can do. You’ve seen the pictures of people brutalized and massacred. It was horrifying, but you thought you could avoid him by making sure to get home before dark, stay indoors, be a normal person, stay out of the spotlight.
Maybe that’s exactly what led you to be tied up in a musty basement, right at his mercy.
“Are you thirsty?” He suddenly asks. You stare. “Are you hungry? I make a great PB&J.” He gloats through his mask.
When you remain quiet, he smacks his forehead with a sigh.
“Right.” He trails off. “You can’t talk. My bad! Here, lemme–”
He leans forward. Before you can flinch, the rag is pulled from your lips. You lay there for a moment, taking in deep breaths for your lungs.
“...please let me go…” your voice is dull and slurs in places. You still aren’t in full control of your mouth or your voice.
Vigilante just shakes his head, sitting down next to you. He wags a finger in your face.
“You know I can’t do that,” his voice is sympathetic but still light, “you did something really bad.”
Bad? What the fuck was this psycho talking about? You wanted to yell at him, but you were still terrified to move.
He seems more than happy to talk without you even asking. Gloved hands reach over to your fingers, barely grazing them. The nausea in your stomach only grows.
“I was really disappointed when you did it, too,” he tells you, “other than that, you were so perfect! No crimes. No drugs. No littering. Your record was spotless, it’s what I really liked about you, too.” He shakes his head and clicks his tongue.
“What?” Your voice feels so far away. “What–what did I do?”
You can feel his eyes through those orange visors.
“Jaywalking,” he finally says.
You can only stare.
“In this county, that’s a 200 dollar fine.” Vigilante points out.
You suddenly remember something. There was a reason this man called himself Vigilante. He didn’t just go after criminals. Drug lords, robbers, other killers weren’t the only ones on his plate. He’s killed people over fucking graffiti. He serves his own version of justice.
To a deranged bastard like him, there was no moral difference between murdering an innocent person and crossing a road with no crosswalk.
This was a joke. You wanted to laugh.
You start crying instead.
“I’m sorry.” You blabber, words spitting out. “I’m sorry–I–I really am–”
You hush when gloved fingers reach for your cheek. He slowly wipes away your tears. It’s the sort of comfort a butcher gives a lamb, right before he raises the knife.
“Y’know, I usually get annoyed when people cry,” he tells you gently, “but you’re so pretty.”
The admiration in his voice is enough to make you stop weeping. There’s a chill down your spine.
Vigilante grabs a box of tissues, dabbing away at your sensitive cheeks until the wetness is gone and your skin is left irritated.
“I really should’ve killed you,” he tells you after a minute. “I mean, I’ve done it for others. It’s really not fair that I let you off the hook, right? But you were so nice to me, I think I grew a soft spot…” He trails off.
You register his words. You’ve never met this man in your life. And yet, his voice sounds really familiar like–
“So, I brought you here!” He gestures to the rest of the run-down basement. “This is where you’ll be until we can finally fix you up.”
You helplessly stare at your captor.
“I mean, it’s not like you did it on purpose, right?” He looks at you, and his voice sharpens ever so slight.
“It was an accident, right?”
You nod.
He immediately brightens.
“I knew it!” You flinch when he pats your head.
“So that’s why you have to stay down here, until you’re all better, okay?” He stands up, easily towering over your limp body.
“I’m kinda’ excited about this.” He admits and you feel like you’re not supposed to hear this. You’re forced to anyway. “It’s like rehabilitation sorta’, right?”
You don’t answer. He’s not looking for a response.
He walks to the edge of the basement. Before he opens the door, he says:
“I’ll go make that sandwich now.” He looks back. “Be good.”
You nod.
The door slams hard enough to rattle the basement.
“HELP ME! SOMEONE HELP!” it was the middle of the night and no one was out. you were all alone when someone had snatched your purse and ran. you chase after them, screaming for help, but no one was coming. you follow them into an alley and before you could continue screaming, a familiar voice comes from behind you.
“woah woah, what’s the issue here, cutie?” you turn to see spider-man standing before you.
“s-someone t-took my p-purse.” tears streaked your face as you sobbed.
he tilts his head and lifts his hand, “this purse?” you blink. your purse hung from his arm.
the relief came in waves, “oh my god thank you so much-” as you reach for the purse, he tosses it into the air and webs it to onto the wall of the alley. “-what are you…”
“since i helped you, you can help me, can’t you?” his voice was deep, and as he moved closer, you could feel your heart in your throat.
“y-you’re not spider-man, spider-man wouldn’t…” you back up, alarms going off in your head.
you hear him sigh, “spider-man has needs too, you know…. i mean, it’s only fair." you back up, looking around for a way to get out, “uh oh babe, are you trying to run?” before you could move, you feel your arm slam against the wall. “just stay still.” he grabs your other arm, forcing it against the wall, and webs it. you try to struggle, but you weren’t budging.
“please d-” your words were silenced as he webs your mouth closed.
“for today, i’d prefer your mouth closed.” his spandex-clad fingers go under your shirt, “god, how i’d love to really feel your skin.” chills go down your spine and you choke on your sobs. he coos, softly, his hands wandering down to grope your ass.
you try to scream through the webs, but your sound comes out strangled and muffled. spider-man taps your butt, “we don’t have much time, jump up and wrap your legs around me.” you shake your head and he huffs, “don’t be difficult. the faster we get this done, the better it’ll be for you.” he tilts his head. you test the webs trapping your arms once more, seeing no change, you try to jump in little space you have. he makes sure to grab your ass, letting you wrap your legs around his waist. you could feel his hard cock under the suit, pressing against your cunt. you let out a panicked sound at the feeling. he groans, letting his head drop to your shoulder. slowly, he rolls his hip into you, pressing himself closer. you let out a muffled moan and you hear him chuckle.
“i wish i could taste you.” he groans into your ear, as he grinds against you. you could feel heat starting to pool at your abdomen as he gets rougher. “my good girl, my pretty girl.” his voice was dripping in pleasure as he breathlessly groaned, getting faster. you couldn’t hold back your moans and spider-man gets faster hearing you. you let out muffled pleas, as you feel the coil tighten in your abdomen. “i hear you, cutie, i hear you.” he grinds you against him for the final time and you feel that coil snap as pleasure washes over you in waves. you hear him groan and slump, pulling you as close as he could without hurting you.
a few minutes pass before spider-man collects himself, letting your legs drop to the ground, “this-” he gestures between the two of you, “-was great. let’s do this again sometimes.” he blows you a kiss and swings away, leaving you attached to the wall. after another 15 minutes, you feel the webs start to disintegrate. you rip your arms out and pull the webs covering your mouth off, letting you loudly sob. you snatch your purse off and dig out your phone, in between your choked whimpers.
the phone rings for a few minutes, before he picks up, “p-peter? c-could you come pick me up? p-please?”
his voice was sympathetic, “god, of course, (y/n)… i’ll be right there.”
Unauthorized Access - Stalker! Neighbor!Gojo Satoru x F!Reader:
Tags: Implied stalking, CCTV hacking, neighbors
Jujutsu Kaisen:
Knock. Knock.
Knock. Knock.
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
As you repeatedly knocked at your rowdy neighbor's door, the blasting music from inside pained your ears. Oh, this person was getting an earful from you. Who plays such loud music at 1 in the night?! Enough is enough! And it doesn't help that the walls of this housing scheme are as thin as paper. You could feel every single beat, every single note, every single vibration, everything through the wall separating your houses!
Knocking went unnoticed, so you decided to bang at his door. "Hello???"
Then, it swung open, and to say that you were stunned breathless, was an understatement. From inside, emerged the most jaw-droppingly handsome man you ever saw. With a height of 6'2, this man had the most flawless and glowy fair skin, his defined jaw a compliment to his even more defined body. Dressed in a black open button down shirt and black pants with black polished shoes, he reeked of Sauvage. His snow hair was majestic. With lipstick marks littered across his jaw and neck, he leveled you with an appraising, intense yet slow stare through his shades.
"Are you the tenant here?" you cleared your throat, trying to stay on track.
He whistled lowly, removing his shades as he leaned to your level, his cyan blue eyes absolutely gorgeous. "And what if I am, sweetheart?"
"Then you— you need to learn to keep the music down!" you huffed, folding your arms, but the warmth of your arms did nothing to cover your exposed skin in your night dress.
"Ohh, did I wake you up, poor baby?" he arrogantly smirked, eyeing you like a snack. "Do you go to fight every man in a skimpy lil' night dress, or am I just special?"
It was then you realized your, erm, lack of proper dressing. With an off shoulder, thigh length mini babydoll night dress and matching thigh highs, you had taken a shawl to cover up. Yet, his searing eyes seemingly saw through your measly cover-up.
"Y-You! No, I! Whatever, just keep the music down!" you glared.
"Whatever you say, doll~!" he smirked, blowing you a kiss as he went back inside.
Something about your gut said that he was trouble. And you were known for being a troublemaker. True to his word, the music died down.
The next day, you were out for a jog in your apartment complex when you noticed the man from yesterday, jogging on the track even before you. You huffed, continuing your jog as you tried to run past him, but something inside you told you that you were being stared at. Hard. And instantly, he was jogging beside you backwards.
"Hey, the doll from yesterday!" he called out from beside you, but you kept running.
Mom always told you to steer clear of trouble.
"Yo! Wait up, princess! Damn— were you an athlete in your past life?!" he ran beside you, speeding up as he grabbed your arm. "Waiiiiit."
You turned, looking at him. "What? Make it quick."
"As a sorry for annoying my sweetheart lil' neighbor, here!" with a grin, he handed you your favourite snack. BBQ chips.
"Wait, what??? How did you know that I like these?" you stared at him skeptically.
"Don'tcha remember? We were in the same elevator once. And you were eating these."
"Huh?? I don't remember ever sharing an elevator with you? Thank you, though," you reluctantly said, opening the packet to eat a few chips.
You really didn't share an elevator with him. Ever.
"Also! Gimme your number."
You spluttered. "Why? We just met!"
"Awww, c'mon. You don't wanna?" he feigned sadness.
Hesitantly, you took his phone to put your number in it.
"Perfect. Name's Satoru. Hit me up sometime!" with a wink that flipped your traitorous heart, he strolled away confidently.
It was finally Friday night! You spent the entire day with your friends, going to clubs, parties, shopping sprees and eating food. It was a blast. And now it's 2 am and you're waiting for the elevator to open so you can use it. For some reason, this little time period never passes! 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.... Finally!
As you stepped inside the elevator, you pressed the button for your floor. Though, in a second, the elevator doors were jammed by a perfectly polished black shoe. And then, Satoru walked in with a girl by his side. As the girl chatted on and on with him, his eyes never left your body. Up, down, stopping at certain areas, then repeat. Suddenly, you felt your dress' hemline a bit too short.
The girl, noticing Satoru's obvious interest in you, glared at him and stormed off the elevator before it closed, not before giving him a shove. He clicked his tongue, his eyes back at you. "Yo."
"Hi."
"Lookin' like a snack."
"Yeah."
"Got a date?"
"No?"
"Good."
"Why're you interrogating me anyways? Aren't you supposed to go after your girlfriend?" you eyed him suspiciously.
"Oh, no, darlin'. She ain't my girlfriend," he leaned in, smirking. "I don't do commitments."
"Figured," you fixed your dress as you waited.
"Got a boyfriend?"
"No."
"Husband?"
"No."
"So you're single, huh?" he grinned. "Cm'here."
Full of suspicion, you leaned closer, only for him to whisper in your ear. "I already knew that."
With those words, he turned around and went to his apartment. As he took out his keys, a handkerchief fell out of his pocket. The one you lost in the residency laundromat. First the BBQ chips you never ate in front of him, then him oddly knowing that you're single when you just met him a week ago without any mutuals, and now the handkerchief you lost. What is happening???
And then it hit you.
No wonder your CCTV cameras had been showing this error ever since Satoru shifted to your floor.
Unauthorized access.
Thank you for reading! Here's the link for part two. I hope you enjoyed. Gojo sends you some candy 🍬. Do send requests for more! 💙
(If you like what you read, consider supporting me on Ao3!)
Read pt. 2 here!
Summary: Dabi's roommate Shigaraki wasn't a bad guy. He was just quiet. Quiet, but always around. You can't help the man for being a little curious, no?
Cw: stalking behaviors, suggestive, no smut, no quirks
Word count: 781
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Hangouts were always at Dabi’s. He made that clear. And that was fine, apart from the roommate he had. He wasn’t bad, just quiet. Quiet yet always around.
You first noticed him several weeks into hanging out at Dabi’s. He mentioned his roommate but his door was always closed so you never got to see the man in all his glory. Until he shuffled out of his room when you and Dabi were making dinner one night.
His roommate nearly froze when you looked at him.
“H-Hello!” your smile beamed, cutting through the shadow his shaggy hair threw across his face. A head nod was all you got in return.
The next time you saw him, you were coming in and taking your shoes off. He was on the couch in the dark living room, face illuminated by the tv as he played some video game.
“Hello!” You chirped.
“Huh?”
“Hello? I said?”
“Oh, hey.” His voice was shaky, matching his visuals perfectly.
“I never asked your name.”
“Shigaraki.” he stated bluntly before putting his headphone back over his ear.
Again, he wasn’t a bad roommate- just quiet. The few times you suggested inviting Shigaraki in your activities, Dabi rejected the idea. Said he’d say no anyways, there was no point. But the more you hung around the apartment, the more you saw him. Lingering. Far away enough that conversation would be awkward, but close enough that you could have sworn he was looking at you. Did he want to say something? Was he nervous?
Shigaraki wasn’t nervous. He was intrigued. He just didn’t know how to show it. It’s not like you were his friend, and Dabi could be the aggressive type, so he didn’t bother trying to get close to you. But man was he interested.
His nights consisted of putting his ear up to their shared wall to catch a muffled version of your laugh. He would deliberately come out of his room if he heard Dabi’s door open only to slam his shut if he saw Dabi instead of you walking out. The few small interactions you have had with him fueled him for days. Shigaraki would pump his cock to the memory of your smile, voice, anything. And it only got worse. One night when you decided to stay over, he swore he heard a moan come from Dabi’s room when you two were supposed to be asleep. While he was seething with jealousy, he couldn’t help but get hard. That small moan made him finish at least 5 times, his mind imagining you in every position he’s ever wanted to try. You riding him so he could stare at your blissed out face, hitting it from the back so he could watch your ass jiggle, his mind thought of it all.
The next morning, Shigaraki was already out in the kitchen making food for everyone.
“Since when did you cook?” Dabi huffs.
“You had a guest, figured I’d do something nice.”
“You made a few eggs and toast. Real fancy, Shigs.”
“Dabi, stop it,” you slap his arm, “that was very nice of you Shigaraki, thank you.” You smile, stealing a piece of bacon as you walk by. Shigaraki just grunts as you do so, lowering his face so his hair hides his red cheeks. You missed the sharp inhale he took as you passed by, but he could feel himself growing in his pants when he caught a whiff of your vanilla perfume and sex that you had yet to shower off.
“Going to shower! Use the bathroom now or forever hold your peace,” you chuckled as you slid into the bathroom.
Dabi ignored you, taking a piece of toast and disappearing back into his room. Shigaraki, on the other hand, had another idea in mind.
Once he heard the shower turn on, he made his way to the bathroom door, ear pressed against it. He could hear the fall of your clothes as you stripped and the shower curtain being pulled back. After about five minutes, he carefully turned the handle and opened the door, peeking inside before fully entering. He was quick to swipe your panties, pocketing them before making his exit. He was held up in his room for the remainder of the day. He didn’t care that you’d notice them missing, either. Maybe that meant you’d knock on his door and accuse him. Come on in, let him help you find them. He promised he would never, and he seems so nice- he made you breakfast, remember?
He promises he would never do something you don’t want. He’s just intrigued, is all. A little curiosity never hurt anyone, right?
Hii, I'm new to Tumblr so I don't know if this is where you place requests, hopefully it's right! I have a request if you could write a Jinx x gn!reader who would never kill someone or harm, strictly against it hut tolerates Jinx's antics, until one night reader got extremely jelaous when a guy was flirting with Jinx (Jinx just nonchalantly kept avoiding the guy and giving him hints but he is not giving up) and the reader gets too jelaous to the point they harm the guy or something.. Idk! 😓
We're Good
I didn't know what direction you wanted this to go, but I got toxic vibes from this so I just decided to go full send in that direction. Advanced apologies.
This work will have an extended explicit scene that will be posted on AO3 (I wasn't 100% sure about your age my b, but if you confirm I'll post it here too.)
Masterlist here
1.8k words
Proofread? Y/N (Had a bit too much wine while writing this but I'll edit before posting on AO3)
You're a good person. You really do think you are. You really are. At least, that's what you tell yourself.
You're a good person.
Well…at least you think you are. And really, isn't that all that matters?
You've managed to keep your nose clean for most your life; no fights, no killing, no stealing. Odd jobs around The Lanes kept you afloat. Not like you had any other choice, you couldn't stomach gore, and every time you'd get an adrenaline rush from so much as a wound, you'd end up passing out.
You're level-headed, fairly well-read, and comfortable in your own skin.
So why the hell is your blood boiling over some weirdo trying to flirt with your girlfriend?
Jinx is beautiful, full stop. Anyone who says otherwise is an idiot. She's a genius in every sense of the word, a physical specimen—respectfully of course, she's literally super athletic—and quick with her tongue. If this wasn't Zaun, people would be tripping over themselves trying to win her over. But her reputation always made people rethink any approach they'd make towards her. Her father's reputation, made people steer clear entirely.
Anyone that had enough audacity to actually approach her, she'd—figuratively—shoot down immediately. At least when you two got together, you're not sure if she actually shot them prior to you asking her not to.
She knows what she wants, and she's not the type to sit and wait for the other person to make the first move. You should know, she cornered you five minutes after you two had first met, and she hasn't let go of you since.
The thought of being romantically linked with Jinx hadn't even crossed your mind when you two first met. You weren't blind, of course, but you also weren't stupid. All of the stories you had heard about her, all the people she's blown up for Silco, or just for her own amusement, none of it sat right with you. So, you avoided her like The Grey.
Well… You tried.
For some unknown reason, the Chem Barons suddenly took an interest in your services. Suddenly, you had a contract for the next few months, just for them, and all coincidentally putting Jinx up as your contact. Every job you had, she came with you. Super quick dead drop for Marcus' weekly bribes? You needed her to protect the money. Week long stake out at the shipping yard? Jinx had to go to keep you on your toes—whatever that meant. She'd show up to your house first thing in the morning, and followed you to your doorstep by night.
You tried dropping out of the job, but you were hit with threats ranging from you being blacklisted from all of your contacts, to being killed on the spot. So you bit your tongue and did your job, but made sure not to accept another contract from the barons.
Then one day, negotiations with a dealer went south, and they refused to give their payment for the last stash of shimmer you and Jinx had delivered. One second you were arguing with him, the next his blood and brain matter were on your face. You're not one hundred percent sure what exactly happened after, but you did pass out.
Then, you quit. You even told Jinx to kill you and get it over with. When she didn't, you stormed off, and ditched the rest of your jobs for the barons. It was only a week left, they'd get you, one way or another.
To say you were surprised when you weren't killed or blacklisted the following week was an understatement. But what was even more surprising? Jinx had stopped following you around.
You chalked it up to simple curiosity, when you decided to seek her out. You didn't dare admit to yourself that you had missed her constant presence, especially since she had been stuck to you like glue for months. You wanted to ask why no one had sent a hitman to off you, nothing else. Once you found out why, you'd disappear from her life forever, gleefully so.
She had covered for you, for a week, doing all the assigned jobs you had, alone. None of the barons knew better. She even apologized for shooting that dealer in front of you and getting blood spray all over your face.
You should've walked away then, but you didn't. In fact, you started willingly hanging around Jinx. Accompanying her in her misadventures, or helping her with her inventions; and she helped you with whatever job you were doing.
You would never admit it to anyone, but it felt good to have someone nearly bend over backwards for you. Hell, she even toned down the killing people part, at least when you were around.
Less than six months after, you were hers, and she was yours.
She wanted you, and only you.
But there was something so disgustingly triggering about someone trying to make a move on her—looking at her, even. It was bringing out progressively uglier thoughts out of you. Thoughts you would never think about anyone else.
Jinx noticed this, of course. But she never tried to stop the train of thought. Hell, a part of you thinks—knows— that she enjoys seeing you worked up over her.
The music in The Last Drop is loud; uncomfortably so for someone sober. The bass blaring from the speakers thrums in your chest, and the constant stutter of the lights is making it hard to keep track of where Jinx is. Which is bad, because this rando doesn’t want to let up and keeps following her around. Even the vantage point the second floor isn’t helping.
To be fair, Jinx is ignoring the prick. And you trust Jinx. But the gnawing feeling in your insides every time you imagine some guy's hands on her is only building up your anger.
No one puts their grimy hands on your girl.
You decide that the best course of action is to just go down to the dance floor and take care of the problem yourself. What was that saying? If you want things done, do it yourself?
Pushing yourself off of the railing, you make your way through the all the bodies moving in time with the music. You grimace, the thought of having alcohol and cheap perfume clinging onto you by the time you get downstairs isn't all that appealing, but you had a girl to find. Which is starting to prove difficult, seeing as the strobe lights are throwing off people's hair colors. The only reprieve that you have is the fact that people still kept out of Jinx's way even at the busy club. If there was a spot at the club where the crowd was thinning out, she was probably there.
You're given space to breathe once you reach the bar. A lot of the club goers were on the dance floor. Credits to the DJ, you think to yourself, for getting people away from where you were, and for also, actually, being good at what they were doing. You give a cursory glance at the seats, your girlfriend is unfortunately not there, but you do catch sight of a familiar face.
"Sevika!" You shout over the din of the music. The older woman, busy tending to her glass of whiskey, barely spares you a glance as she looks up, huffing before gulping down her drink and pushing it towards the bartender. Her dismissive attitude doesn't deter you, however, as you make your way towards her.
"Have you seen Jinx?"
"Didn't know I had to babysit your girl." She says before taking her refilled drink and taking a swig from it.
"I don't have time to do this little dance, Sevika." Her eyebrow quirks at your terse response, a hint of mischief in her eyes. It was a look you knew well—she always had it right before she'd try to piss you off.
A shrug instead, turning back to her drink. "Last I saw, some dumbass was trying to talk her up."
Your jaw tightens at the thought, and this doesn't escape the other woman's notice as she smirks. "I always knew you weren't the sharing type." She says smugly, taking another swig.
You lean in closer, well into her personal space. "Where is she?"
She scoffs, a mechanical finger poking you in the shoulder slowly pushing you back. "Don't start shit you can't finish, kid." She nods towards the far end of the club. "Being followed by the dumbass that way."
You throw a scowl her way before walking the direction she pointed out, your previous irritation with her dissipating as soon as you catch sight of Jinx's hair.
For a moment, a wave of relief washes over you. But it leaves just as fast when you see the same man that was talking to her, leaning over her much too closely for your comfort.
Jinx's eyes flick towards you, a knowing, anticipating, look in them. Like she knew you'd come rushing down there for her.
You don't notice your own steps becoming hurried.
His hand brushes her arm. You see red.
The poor sod doesn't even have time to react before you clock him in the jaw, and he falls backwards. Jinx simply takes a step back. Unsurprised, when you grab her arm and pull her away. She doesn't even try to free herself from your grip.
There isn't a lot of privacy allowed in The Last Drop. In fact, there's only three places there where you could get a semblance of privacy. The supply room, but you didn't want to risk anyone walking in on you and Jinx. The second one was Silco's office, an even worse choice, for obvious reasons. Which left only one place for you to take Jinx to: the Chem Barons' meeting room.
The heavy doors of the meeting room slams as you shut them behind the both of you. Jinx, who had been quiet the entire way there, rips her arm away from you.
"What the hell's wrong with you?" Despite the furious look on her face, the anger doesn't reach her eyes. It never does. Not when she enjoys seeing you get so protective of her. Not when she spent months trying to win you over.
You don't bother with an answer, dragging her mouth to yours. Your lips mashing together, teeth bumping into each other. She grips the front of your shirt, holding you in place, only letting you pull away when she needs to breathe.
"Crazy." She whispers against your lips, eyes wide, her grin taunting.
"Takes one to know one." You answer back, breathless.
Her laugh is mirthful, genuine. Like she hit the lottery. Maybe she did, seeing how you act around her—how she acts around you.
You find that you don't mind the hidden accusation in her laugh. Because in your mind, you're a good person.
