j1nx-l0v3r

[j1nx-l0v3r]

Only part

Not Yet

[🐋]

It was one of those quiet nights in Zaun—quiet in the way that meant only three explosions had gone off and the distant screaming wasn’t your problem.

The lights in Jinx’s room flickered with their usual soft, chemical blue hue. The floor was a minefield of bolts, half-wired bombs, paint cans, and at least two suspiciously giggling plushies. And smack in the middle of it all, on a patched-up couch held together with tape and prayer, was Jinx.

Half-limp, sprawled across your lap like a very talkative cat, her head was nestled against your stomach while you brushed through the mess that was her hair.

And gods—her hair.

There were tangles in there that had declared independence.

You tugged softly, trying not to hurt her, but she still let out a wounded noise. “AAGH. That was my brainstem, you brute!”

You sighed. “It’s a knot, not a bomb. Relax.”

“I am relaxed. This is my relaxed scream.” She squirmed, flopping her arm over her eyes dramatically. “If I die from this, I’m gonna come back and whisper mean things in your ear while you sleep. Every night. Forever.”

You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile. “You were the one who didn't brush her hair during a week. Besides you’d whisper them anyway.”

“True.” A beat. “BUT I’d do it as a ghost. Spookier.”

A few more tangles passed in silence before her voice came again, this time quieter. Still playful, but… weirder.

“Hey… what would you do if I kissed you?”

You froze, mid-stroke.

“…If you what?”

She twisted so she could look up at you, lying there upside-down with her hair in your lap and her face full of innocent chaos. “If I kissed you,” she said casually, like it was the same as asking for another cookie. “Like, boom. Right on the mouth.”

Your brain short-circuited. “Jinx…”

“Would you scream? Cry? Die instantly from being overwhelmed by my charm?” She grinned, showing teeth. “All three?”

“You’re… thirteen.”

“thirteen and three-quarters,” she corrected, completely serious. “I’ll be fourteen in like, six weeks. Emotionally, I’m at least nineteen. Maybe twenty. Trauma math.”

You blinked. “That’s not how aging works—”

“It is if you do it fast enough.” She sat up, cross-legged now, peering at you with an expression that was way too pleased with itself. “I know what love is, y’know. I saw a play about it once. Two people kiss and then die dramatically. I only want the kissing part. Maybe just a little death.”

Your face went red. “Jinx—”

She grinned. “C’mon. You’re always brushing my hair, holding me when I have nightmares, patching me up when I blow things up. You care. Admit it.”

“I do,” you said honestly, firmly. “But not like that, Jinx. I care about you. I’m your guardian. Your big sister figure.”

Her eyes narrowed. “That sounds like a cop-out.”

You looked away. “It’s not. You’re too young.”

“What if I age right now?!” she suddenly yelled. She stood up, stretched her arms toward the ceiling and announced: “Boom! Puberty achieved!”

You blinked in utter horror.

“See?” she said, striking a ridiculous pose. “Very mature. Totally dateable. Possibly dangerous. You love that.”

You dropped your face into your hands. “Oh my god…”

Then came the worst part—she flopped back down, crawling into your lap again, but this time with the most smug, satisfied look in the history of smug expressions.

“You’re lucky I’m patient,” she said dramatically. “I’ll wait. Like a tragic, romantic ghost. A very sexy one.”

You raised a brow. “You think you’re sexy now?”

She wiggled her eyebrows. “You’re thinking about it.”

You gently thwacked her forehead with the hairbrush.

“OW—okay, rude. But deserved.”

You let out a breath, finally brushing the last of the knots out. She relaxed with a hum, letting her eyes droop.

And just as you thought the storm was over—

“Still gonna marry you, though.”

“JINX.”

“Shhh. It’s bedtime. No arguing with destiny.”

𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎, 𝙼𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙲𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚊𝚗...

[🐋]

Writing short stuff until I finish the next story...

@powderbomb-jinxed

[j1nx-l0v3r]

Only part.

Bleeding Hearts-

[🐋]

Jinx hadn’t told anyone at first.

Not when she woke up with a strange warmth between her thighs. Not when she felt the sick twist in her stomach. Not when she peeled back her sheets to find them stained with something dark and terrifying.

She thought it might be blood from a wound—maybe a fight she forgot. Maybe a bullet that grazed her in the night. That happened sometimes. Her memory wasn’t always reliable. But she didn’t feel hurt.

Just… wrong. Dirty. Broken.

It was Sevika who noticed her pale face and stiff posture later that morning, when Jinx wandered through the Last Drop looking like she’d seen a ghost.

“What’s with the long face, powder keg?” Sevika grunted, nursing a drink as usual.

Jinx didn’t answer right away. She wasn’t afraid of Sevika—Jinx wasn’t afraid of anyone—but her voice came out quieter than usual. “I think I’m… dying.”

Sevika raised a brow. “What? You sick?”

Jinx glanced around to make sure no one else was listening, then leaned in. “There was blood. Down there. On my sheets. A lot. I think it’s inside me. Something’s wrong.”

Sevika blinked once. Then smirked.

“Oh,” she drawled. “That? You just got your period.”

“My what?”

“You know—the curse, the bleeding, monthly murder—whatever you wanna call it.”

Jinx stared. “So I am dying.”

Sevika snorted. “Nah, you’ll just wish you were for a couple days. Cramps, mood swings, blood leaking out like a horror show. Might kill someone if you sit on their lap, though. Heh.”

“…You’re not helping!”

Sevika gave a dry chuckle and leaned back. “You’ll survive. Barely. Ask your babysitter to help. She knows more about that soft stuff.”

Jinx’s eyes widened. "Her?!"

Sevika grinned, taking a long drink. “Sure. She’s probably already cleaned up after your mess before, huh?”

Jinx ran.

[🐋.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.]

Back in the dim, oil-lit room she shared with your character, Jinx paced like a stray cat. Her mind buzzed with Sevika’s words. Cramps. Horror show. Sit on someone and kill them? And worse than all that—

You, her crush was right there. Folding laundry, her clothes.

“You okay?” you asked gently, watching her with concern.

Jinx stopped dead in her tracks.

“Promise not to laugh.”

“I would never.”

“…I think I’m dying.”

She turned toward you, eyes wide, fragile in a way she never let herself be. “I woke up and—there was blood. Between my legs. And Sevika said it was a period, and I don’t even know what that means and she said it’s gonna hurt and—”

Her voice broke slightly. “And I like you. I didn’t wanna tell you like this. I wanted it to be... cooler. Not all gross and bloody.”

You try to don't laugh, pressing your lips together. You crossed the room and wrapped your arms around her.

“Jinx,” you said, brushing her tangled blue hair from her face. “You’re not dying. It’s just your body growing up. Getting stronger. That blood? It’s natural. Every girl goes through it. Even me.”

She looked up at you, stunned. “You bled too?”

You smiled softly. “Yeah. I freaked out the first time too. You’re not broken. You’re just becoming more... you.”

“But… it feels awful,” she mumbled.

“I know. I’ll take care of it.”

You kept your promise.

You found her clean clothes and helped her into them without a word of judgment. You rinsed her sheets in the basin, quietly, so no one would notice. You showed her how to make pads from spare cloth, how to ease the cramps, how to breathe when it hurt. You let her curl up beside you when she was cold and clingy, heart fluttering when she whispered, “Thanks, sugar.”

The blood didn’t scare you. Neither did her confession.

You kissed her forehead that night and whispered, “You’re safe with me.”

Jinx, for once, didn’t say anything back.

She just smiled—small, secret, and soft—and drifted to sleep in your arms.

[🐋.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.]

Jinx stayed close for the night.

Not clingy in the chaotic way she could be, not bouncing off the walls or throwing wrenches into pipes just to see what would happen. This was different. Quieter. She shadowed you like a ghost made of tangled blue hair and wide, wondering eyes—watching everything you did, like she was trying to understand something new.

That morning, she woke up before you.

You were still curled beneath the thin sheets, one arm draped over your waist like a blanket. Jinx watched the way your chest rose and fell, how peaceful you looked when you weren’t tense with duty or expectation. She didn’t mean to, but her fingers reached out and traced the edge of your arm, just a little. Just a brush.

You shifted in your sleep and murmured something soft. Jinx’s hand shot back like she’d touched a hot pipe, but her smile betrayed her.

You had stayed with her.

Even after all the blood. After the weird confession. After Sevika’s warnings and Silco’s dismissive glares and all the ways she was “too much” or “not enough”—you stayed. You washed her clothes. You held her like she was worth something. Like her bleeding didn’t make her gross, or dangerous, or broken.

Jinx had never had that before.

So she made you something.

It wasn’t good, not by normal standards. It was a weird patchwork pillow she stitched together from scraps of stolen fabric—gray and green and too many purples, with uneven thread holding it together. She even tried to embroider your name into the side, though one of the letters looked more like a dead spider.

She shoved it into your hands that afternoon without meeting your eyes.

“I made this,” she mumbled, ears tinged pink. “For you. ‘Cause, uh… you didn’t freak out. Or puke. Or run away.”

You blinked, then held the pillow against your chest like it was made of gold.

“I love it,” you said honestly. “It’s perfect.”

Jinx’s shoulders relaxed.

Later that night, the two of you sat together in your shared room, the soft hum of Zaun’s underbelly filtering through the cracked window. You had given her a hot water bottle from and was curled into your side with it pressed to her stomach. She kept letting out tiny sighs—half pain, half contentment.

“Still hurting?” you asked gently, brushing her hair from her face.

“A little. But this helps.” She nestled closer. “You help.”

She tilted her head to look up at you, expression serious for a moment.

“Hey… if this is growing up, it kinda sucks. But… if it means being close to you like this, I guess it’s not all bad.”

You chuckled softly. “You’re not growing up alone, Jinx. I’m here.”

A pause.

“Even if I get worse?” she asked, barely a whisper. “Even if I bleed all over again, or say the wrong thing, or—break something important?”

You pulled her in tighter, resting your cheek against her messy blue hair.

“I’m not leaving you. Ever.”

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. It was warm. Full. Like something finally clicked in place in her chest.

“…Can I sleep here tonight?” she asked, already halfway asleep against you.

“You never have to ask.”

She smiled. That shy, secret smile again. The one only you got to see.

And this time, it was her who kissed your forehead.

𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎, 𝙼𝙸𝚂𝚃𝚈𝙲𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚊𝚗...

[🐋]

This kinda sucks...😫

@powderbomb-jinxed

[j1nx-l0v3r]

Hybrid cat!User

Tangled Tail -Last Part

It was well past midnight when the workshop door creaked open.

The rain had stopped, but the streets of Zaun were still slick with oil and stink. You padded in silently, dripping water and reeking of alley grime. Your fur was matted. Your tail hung low. There was… something suspicious on your boot that you really didn’t want to identify.

You tried to sneak in. Just tiptoe across the floor, make it to the nest of blankets, and hope Jinx was asleep—

“Stop right there, sewer cat.”

You froze mid-step.

Jinx stood at the top of the stairs, hair messy from sleep, goggles pushed up on her forehead. She squinted at you. Then she sniffed.

“Oh, ugh! What did you roll in?! Is that… is that dead fish and piss?!”

You opened your mouth. Closed it. Shrugged.

“…maybe?”

She marched down the steps, nose wrinkled, arms flailing like you’d insulted her bombs. “Muffin just cleaned the cushions yesterday! Were you hanging around the trash cats again? I told you, they have fleas! You’re gonna get flea-bombs dropped on your head!”

You winced. “They were nice.”

“They are mangy!”

From the corner, Muffin looked up from his tiny workstation, lifting his goggles. “She really does smell like the docks,” he offered helpfully, waving a small mechanical fan in your direction. “Also, I think something is moving in her fur.”

Jinx gagged.

You narrowed your eyes. “It’s probably just my self-esteem trying to escape.”

Jinx grabbed you by the collar—her stupid neon paw-printed collar—and dragged you toward the sink like a misbehaving kitten.

“Nope. Bath time.”

“No! No bath!”

“Yes bath! You brought the smell of the undercity into my sanctuary!”

You tried to dig your claws into the floorboards. She pulled harder.

Muffin chewed on a piece of toast and muttered, “This is the best soap opera I’ve ever watched.”

“You’re not helping, Muffin!” you snapped.

Moments later, you were in the oversized metal sink, grumbling, while Jinx scrubbed your ears with a foamy cloth like an angry mom. You hissed at the water but didn’t fight—too much. You had kind of missed the warmth. And her touch. Even if she was muttering threats about flea collars and cat shampoo.

Eventually, the worst of the stink washed away. Jinx wrapped you in an old towel and plopped you on the bed, arms crossed, still glaring.

“You’re not allowed outside without a leash anymore.”

You glared back, fur puffed and soggy. “You’re lucky I came back at all.”

She rolled her eyes but softened as she ruffled your hair.

“Next time,” she said, pulling the blanket over both of you, “I’m putting a bell on you.”

“Do it and I’ll gift-wrap Muffin and send him to Piltover.”

“Hey!” Muffin yelled from the corner. “I’m right here!”

You and Jinx laughed, tangled in the blankets, warm now—no more stink, no more alley cats. Just the scent of oil, gunpowder, and her.

[🐋.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.]

You sat on the floor, cross-legged and dripping, wrapped in a second towel. Your hair was still damp. Your ears twitched with every stroke of the brush, but you refused to purr. Refused.

Even if it felt really good.

Behind you, Jinx hummed as she worked, perched on a stool, gently untangling the knots with surprising care for someone who usually solved problems with explosions.

"You still mad?" she teased, pulling the brush through another section of your hair.

You scowled, eyes narrowed at a bolt lying on the floor. “You ambushed me.”

“You stank like a fish market in summer. I did Zaun a favor.”

You grunted. "You just like bossing me around."

“Obviously.” She grinned. “It’s fun when you make that pouty face.”

Your tail flicked in annoyance, but you didn’t pull away. Jinx leaned forward, letting her cheek rest against the top of your head for a second, her voice quieter.

“You’re cute when you’re clean.”

You went red to the tips of your ears but kept your grumble going strong.

From the workbench, Muffin let out a snort. “She was cute when she smelled like damp mold, too.”

“Silence, Muffin,” Jinx and you said in perfect unison.

[🐋.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.]

//At The Last Drop

The booth stayed cozy. Jinx leaned into you like she owned you (which, to be fair, she kind of did), her fingers drawing lazy circles on your thigh under the table.

“You wanna do something fun?” she whispered, eyes gleaming with that chaotic spark that meant absolutely no good.

You tilted your head. “Fun how?”

“Mischief fun.”

From across the room, Muffin—now thoroughly buzzed on fizzy juice and bitter resentment—looked up just in time to see Jinx pulling something suspicious and metallic from her belt pouch.

“…No.”

“Yes,” she grinned, holding up a tiny device the size of a matchbox. “Remote firecracker. Blanks. Just loud. I’ve been saving it for the right moment.”

You leaned in closer, amused despite yourself. “And that moment is?”

She nodded toward a particularly smug couple by the bar, clearly on a first date. The guy had just started talking about how many muscles he had.

“Oh,” you said. “Yeah, he deserves it.”

Muffin sighed into his drink. “I hate all of you.”

Jinx winked at you, flicked a switch, and casually slid the tiny device across the floor with her foot. It skittered, bumped a table leg, and stopped perfectly under the target’s chair.

Then—BANG!

A loud crack echoed through the bar.

The man screamed. The woman dumped her drink on him. The bartender ducked behind the counter.

Chaos erupted.

Jinx snorted soda out her nose.

You laughed so hard you had to grip the table.

Muffin just slumped, face in hands. “I’m surrounded by children.”

Jinx wiped her eyes, wheezing. “Okay, that was worth it.”

As the bar slowly returned to its normal level of low-level anarchy, Jinx wrapped her arms around you again and nuzzled into your cheek, still breathless with laughter.

"You and me?" she said. "Best kind of trouble."

You smirked, tail curling around her waist. “You started it.”

“I always do,” she whispered, grinning. “And you? You just make it more fun.”

From the bar, the couple stormed out, soaking wet and furious.

Muffin took a slow sip of his drink. “I’m going to invent earplugs and emotional distance.”

“Make sure they’re pink and glittery,” Jinx called.

You leaned your head on her shoulder, content in the chaos. Mischief, mess, and all—it felt like home.

𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎, 𝙼𝚈𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙲𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚊𝚗...

[🐋]

@powderbomb-jinxed

[j1nx-l0v3r]

Hybrid cat!User

Tangled Tail -Pt.4

It had started as a joke.

A joke.

But when Jinx made the offhand comment—"Next time, bring me a Yordle,"—you took it… maybe a bit too seriously.

So now, you were standing at the entrance of her workshop, holding a squirming, loudly protesting Yordle by the scruff of his vest. He was a fluffy little thing, bright orange with goggles and way too many tools stuffed in his belt. Judging by the smell of gunpowder and smoke, you’d accidentally snatched a demolitions expert.

“Put me down, you overgrown alley cat! I pay taxes!” the Yordle squeaked, kicking his tiny legs in the air. “This is illegal! Probably!”

You dropped him gently on the floor.

He immediately tried to bolt.

You pounced. Not hard—just enough to pin him with one paw.

Jinx blinked awake on the mattress, groggy and hair tousled, clearly not expecting to see you wrestling a living Yordle on the floor like you’d brought her a hyperactive birthday present.

“…what.”

You sat up proudly and gestured at the struggling Yordle like ta-da!

“You said you wanted one.”

Jinx stared. Then slowly, so slowly, a wild grin spread across her face.

“No way. You actually—” she snorted, “—you actually brought me a Yordle?!”

“Alive, as requested.”

The Yordle wriggled under your paw. “Listen, I don’t know what kind of weird predator-prey roleplay this is, but I’m not into it!”

“Can I keep him?” you asked.

Jinx was howling with laughter now, practically falling off the bed. “What are we gonna do with a Yordle?!”

The Yordle raised a tiny finger. “I am a licensed explosive technician and I have rights.”

“Oh my god, he talks too much,” Jinx wheezed, tears in her eyes. “I love him.”

You flicked an ear, frowning. “I can bite him a little if you want.”

“Noooo!” the Yordle yelled.

“No biting,” Jinx said, still grinning. “But we are keeping him. For now. Just look at him! He’s adorable. Like a fuzzy, angry bomb gnome.”

“Can I name him?”

“Only if it’s something ridiculous.”

You looked down at the Yordle. “Your name is now… Muffin.”

“I refuse—!”

“Muffin it is!” Jinx declared, throwing a blanket over the both of you. “Muffin the Workshop Yordle. He lives here now. This is your fault.”

The Yordle gave up trying to struggle and just groaned.

You curled back into the nest of blankets beside Jinx, tail flicking with contentment.

“I aim to please.”

Jinx rolled over to throw an arm around your shoulders. “You do, furball. You really do.”

[🐋.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.]

Days passed.

Surprisingly, Muffin stayed.

You weren’t sure if it was Stockholm Syndrome or just a complete lack of better options, but the Yordle had stopped trying to escape. Mostly. Now he occupied a cleared-off corner of the workshop, fiddling with tiny tools and muttering to himself while tinkering with Jinx’s discarded parts. Sometimes you heard miniature explosions followed by high-pitched cackling.

He fit in disturbingly well.

But right now, your world was smaller. Softer.

You were nestled on Jinx’s lap, her legs crossed beneath you as she absentmindedly ran her fingers through your hair. You didn’t even try to pretend you didn’t like it anymore. Not today.

“Y’know,” she mumbled, “I think Muffin’s actually been useful. He fixed that old gear system on my flare launcher.”

“He also set fire to your couch,” you reminded her, tail lazily flicking over her knee.

“Details,” she said, flicking your ear gently.

You grumbled, but leaned into her hand anyway.

In the background, Muffin was stacking nuts and bolts like a tiny tower of chaos.

Jinx shifted, tucking her chin over your shoulder. “You’re warmer than a heating pipe,” she murmured, voice hazy with sleep.

“You’re clingier than a leech.”

She smirked. “And you’re purring.”

You huffed. “Snitches get stitches.”

But you didn’t move. Neither did she. Her arms wrapped a little tighter around your waist as you both leaned back into the nest of blankets, your ear twitching now and then as her breath brushed over it.

Muffin wandered past with a piece of toast speared on a screwdriver, muttering about thermal coils.

Neither of you looked up.

“I like this,” Jinx said quietly, almost like she didn’t mean for you to hear. “Not the explosions. Not the bombs. Just this. You. Here.”

Your heart skipped.

You turned slightly, brushing your nose against hers. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She smiled, eyes half-lidded. “Even with the collar?”

You sighed dramatically. “Even with the collar.”

“Even with Muffin?”

The Yordle tripped over a wrench, cursed, and kept walking.

You smirked. “Okay, that one’s pushing it.”

Jinx giggled and pulled the blanket up around both of you. “You’re mine, furball.”

You nestled into her arms, tail curling under the blanket.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “Yours.”

From the corner, Muffin called, “I swear if you two start kissing in front of me again I’m putting a bomb in your teapot!”

“Go back to your nut pile, Muffin!” you and Jinx yelled in unison.

The cuddling resumed. The purring, too.

𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎, 𝙼𝚈𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙲𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚊𝚗...

Muffin is my favorite character...😺

@powderbomb-jinxed

[j1nx-l0v3r]

Hybrid cat!User

Tangled Tail -Pt.3

The workshop had gone unusually quiet. That alone was suspicious.

You sat curled up in your usual spot—on a worn cushion beside the table, eyes half-lidded as the soft hum of pipes filled the room. The collar still clung to your neck, irritatingly snug and still blinking faintly. You'd stopped fighting it. Mostly.

Then you heard the sound: a faint, high-pitched click.

Your ears twitched.

Another click. A brilliant red dot appeared on the floor beside your paw.

You stared at it.

“Jinx…” you said slowly, not taking your eyes off the glowing dot. It moved an inch. Your tail twitched.

“Mm?” came her too-innocent reply from somewhere up in the rafters. “Something wrong, furball?”

The dot darted forward—just a little.

You lunged.

You didn’t even mean to. It was instinct. Your paw smacked the floor. The dot escaped.

From above, Jinx cackled. “No way! You actually went for it!”

Your face burned. “It’s a reflex!”

“Sure, sure,” she said between wheezes. “Just like that time you climbed the shelves because I had a fish cracker in my hand.”

You growled low in your throat and turned your back to her.

The dot reappeared. On your tail.

“Jinx—!”

“Just a little enrichment for my favorite indoor kitty,” she teased, now hanging upside down from a pipe with the laser pointer in hand. “You looked bored!”

You swatted at the dot again—because it was on your tail, and what were you supposed to do, not react?

Jinx practically fell from the ceiling laughing. “I knew it! You’re totally a cat!”

You leapt at her. “Take that back!”

She barely dodged as you tackled her to the floor, both of you rolling in a tangled mess of limbs and laughter. The laser pointer skittered across the floor and shut off with a sad beep.

Jinx looked up at you, breathless and smiling. “Admit it. You liked it.”

You sat on her stomach, arms crossed. “You’re a menace.”

“Mm-hm. And you’re purring.”

Your eyes widened in horror. “I’m not—”

But there it was. A low, steady rumble in your chest, impossible to deny when she reached up and gently scratched just beneath your ear.

She grinned like she’d won the Zaunite lottery.

“Stupid instincts,” you grumbled, tail curling despite yourself.

“Stupid cute kitty,” she whispered, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face.

You sighed and rested your head on her chest. “Fine. But if you try to put a bell on me again, I’m setting your glitter bombs on fire.”

Jinx chuckled, wrapping her arms loosely around you. “Deal.”

And for once, the workshop stayed quiet. No bombs, no chaos—just warmth, steady purring, and a girl who refused to let you forget you were finally wanted.

[🐋.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.]

The hum of the workshop faded into the soft silence of sleep. You lay curled up with Jinx on her messy mattress of blankets, her arm slung over your waist, her hair fanned across your chest like tangled blue ribbons. You could feel the slow, steady rhythm of her breathing against you—peaceful, unguarded.

She looked so different like this. Not wide-eyed and grinning, not flinging explosives or teasing you with laser pointers—but small. Soft. Yours.

Your tail flicked once.

Then twice.

Something primal stirred in your chest. A flicker of instinct, old and buried. You nuzzled into her neck once more, affectionately, before slipping out from her embrace and onto silent feet.

You moved through the workshop like a shadow. The city outside was still, smog curling through the narrow alleys. Perfect time for a hunt.

It didn’t take long.

You returned twenty minutes later, tail high and pleased with yourself, something limp and furry dangling from your mouth.

You padded across the floor and dropped it right beside Jinx’s sleeping face with a plop.

A dead rat. A big one, too.

You sat proudly beside it, tail swishing, watching her stir.

Jinx’s nose twitched first. Then her eyes blinked open blearily.

She stared at the rat.

Then at you.

Then back at the rat.

You looked so proud.

“Oh, ewwwwww—” she groaned, sitting up and holding her nose, but laughing all the same. “You brought me a rat?! Seriously?!”

You beamed, chest puffed out. “For you. It’s fresh.”

Jinx stared at you like you’d just gifted her a moldy cupcake—and then burst out laughing.

“You’re insane,” she said between giggles, reaching out to pat your head affectionately. “But I love it. My little psycho.”

You closed your eyes, leaning into her touch, ears twitching happily.

She looked at the rat again and tossed the rat away, made a face, then glanced at you sideways.

“Next time,” she said, “if you really love me... bring me a Yordle.”

You smirked. “Im not killing a Yordle!”

“Just borrow one! Tiny hands are useful!”

You both collapsed into laughter, the rat forgotten somewhere between scraps of metal and the warmth of the early morning. Jinx flopped back into the pile of blankets and pulled you down with her, this time tucking your head under her chin.

“Weirdo,” she whispered fondly.

You purred.

𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎, 𝙼𝚈𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙲𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚊𝚗...

@powderbomb-jinxed ❗❗❗

[j1nx-l0v3r]

Hybrid!User

Tangled Tail -Pt.2

The next morning, you woke up in the soft mess of blankets piled in the corner of Jinx’s workshop—her unofficial “nest.” The scent of oil, metal, and faintly burnt sugar lingered in the air, unmistakably her. You stretched lazily, tail curling behind you, ears flicking as you caught the faint hum of Jinx already working at her desk.

Your neck felt strange.

Then you remembered. The collar.

You groaned softly, pawing at it halfheartedly. It glowed faintly in the low light, your name catching the glint of a flickering neon sign. It was ridiculous. Embarrassing. Cute.

“You’re up, kitty-cat,” Jinx called over her shoulder without turning around. “Sleep okay? Did the collar strangle you in the night or is it still snuggly like I designed it?”

You hissed. “It’s humiliating.”

“Aw, but you didn’t take it off.” She turned around and raised a brow, grinning like she already knew why. “Deep down, you love it.”

“I forgot it was there.”

“Liar,” she sang. “Tail’s doing that swishy thing again.”

You whipped around to glare at your tail like it had betrayed you—which it had. Again.

Jinx stood up and sauntered over with something behind her back. You narrowed your eyes.

“Now, don’t claw me yet, okay? I made something else.”

You stepped back cautiously. “Is it another collar?”

“Nope!” she beamed. “It's an upgrade.”

She revealed a small device—roughly shaped like a bell, but clearly tech-enhanced, with a blinking light and several strange wires wrapped around it.

“This,” she said proudly, “is your new tracker-squeaker-pinger thingy! Attaches right to the collar. If you get lost, I can find you. If I press this button here—” she clicked something, and the bell let out a soft mechanical meow “—it calls you back!”

You stared at her in open horror. “That’s not funny.”

She looked way too pleased with herself. “Oh, come on! It’s genius! What if you get kidnapped again? Or wander off chasing lights like last time?”

“That wasn’t chasing lights! I was investigating.”

“Uh-huh.”

You crossed your arms and looked away. “I’m not your pet, Jinx.”

She didn’t answer right away. You felt her step closer.

When you glanced back, she wasn’t teasing anymore. She looked at you like she saw every crack and scar and didn’t care—they only made you hers more.

“I know,” she said, quieter now. “But… you’re mine. Not in the way they wanted you to be. You’re not a weapon. You’re not a failure. You’re just… here. With me. And I like that.”

Your ears lowered, chest tightening at her words.

She stepped closer and gently reached out to scratch behind your ear, just the way you secretly liked it. You didn’t resist this time.

“I still hate the collar,” you muttered, closing your eyes.

“Sure, furball,” she whispered. “Sure you do.”

𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎, 𝙼𝚈𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙲𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚊𝚗...

I'm getting even more obsessed with this...😼💥Next part will be longer😫 I promise❗

[j1nx-l0v3r]

Hybrid cat!User

Tangled Tail

[🐋]

Neon lights blinked erratically, half-buried beneath blueprints, wires, and discarded gadgets. Somewhere in the chaos, Jinx was working—muttering to herself, tongue poking from the corner of her mouth as she tightened the final screw on her latest project.

Meanwhile, you were sprawled lazily beside her, nuzzling your head against her thigh with an exaggerated groan of boredom.

“Ughh, Jinx… I’m dying here,” you whined, dragging the last word into a plaintive mewl.

“You’re not dying, you’re just being dramatic,” she snorted, not looking away from her work.

Your ears flicked. You bumped your head against her again, just under her hand this time. “Scratches. Behind the ears. Now.”

Jinx finally looked down at you with that wild grin—eyes alight with amusement and mischief. “You really are such a spoiled furball.”

“I’m not a cat,” you grumbled.

“Sure you’re not.” She gave in, scratching behind your ears with skilled fingers that made your tail twitch despite yourself. You hated how easy it was for her to find your weak spots.

You were about to swat at her hand when her eyes lit up even more. She straightened up suddenly, holding something small and metallic in her palm.

“Look at this furball! It’s a gift for you.”

Your tail started swaying side to side instinctively. That always betrayed you.

She held up a shiny metal plate—your name carefully engraved into it in crooked but loving letters. It glinted in the workshop light, attached to a collar with bright neon-blue paw prints glowing along the edge.

Your eyes widened. “No. No way.”

“Yes way,” Jinx said, practically bouncing. “Come here!”

She lunged forward, and you scrambled backward on all fours, hissing softly in protest. “I said I’m not a—!”

Jinx pounced, tackling you to the ground in a heap of giggles and yelps. You struggled, your claws poking at the floor for leverage, but she had you pinned.

“This is abuse,” you hissed.

“This is love” she corrected, already buckling the collar around your neck.

It clicked into place. You froze.

Then you looked up at her. She was beaming at you like she’d just won the Shimmer Lottery.

“…You’re lucky I like you,” you muttered.

“I know you do.” She smirked, flicking one of your ears before leaning close. “You’re my stray now.”

Your tail thumped the floor once in warning—but you didn’t take it off.

You sat up slowly, one hand brushing against the collar as if it might burn you. The engraved tag clinked softly with the motion, and the neon paws pulsed faintly with light—mocking you.

“This is humiliating,” you mumbled, ears pinned back as you adjusted it.

Jinx plopped down beside you, legs crisscrossed, chin in her hands as she grinned like a proud kid showing off a new toy. “Nah. You’re adorable.”

“I’m supposed to be a failed weapon, not a pet.”

“Well, lucky for me I like broken things,” she said, too casual for the words not to sting a little.

You looked away.

She noticed—of course she did. “Hey. I didn’t mean it like that. You know that, right?”

Your silence stretched for a beat too long.

She nudged your arm gently. “I don’t keep you around ‘cause you’re ‘useful,’ fuzzball. I keep you around because… I want you around. ‘Cause you’re fun. And warm. And you don’t scream when I wake up from a nightmare and start throwing knives.”

You blinked. That was unusually… honest for her.

The edge in your posture softened, and without quite realizing it, you leaned into her side. Your tail curled loosely behind you, flicking just enough to let her know you weren’t really mad.

She took it as a victory.

“C’mon,” she said, hopping to her feet and grabbing her boots. “Let’s go show Silco your new look.”

Your head snapped up. “We are not going out like this.”

“Aw, come on! He’ll love it. Or hate it. Either way, I win!”

You lunged at her—pure reflex. She shrieked, cackling as you tackled her to the floor, both of you wrestling between loose wires and empty vials. The tag around your neck jangled wildly as she shouted, “Stop resisting! Embrace the floof!”

“You’re dead!” you growled.

“You wouldn’t dare hurt the one who feeds you!”

“I find my own food—!”

“Trash doesn’t count!”

Despite your protests, your laughter cracked through, mixing with hers in the cramped little world you’d both carved out of the chaos.

Later, after the struggle ended and the collar remained firmly in place, you lay stretched across the workshop floor again, her head resting on your stomach as she toyed with a smoke grenade while you brush her hair with your claws.

“…You’re not gonna take it off, are you?” she asked quietly.

You looked at the ceiling. “…Maybe not tonight.”

She smiled.

“Good,” she said. “Because it suits you.”

𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎, 𝙼𝚈𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙲𝙴𝚃𝙰𝙲𝙴𝙰𝙽...

I needed to post 😫

[j1nx-l0v3r]

Winged!User

Wings Of Zaun- Last Part

It started small.

Harmless.

Jinx would tell you to do things—little things. "Stay still." "Hold this." "Don’t move."

And you’d listen.

Because that was what you did. Because that was what you’d always done.

And each time, Jinx’s grin would grow just a little wider.

She noticed. She knew. And she liked it.

[🐋.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.]

"Sit."

You obeyed.

It was a simple command, yet the weight of it felt heavier than it should have. The tension in your chest wasn’t just from the act—it was the reason behind it.

You didn’t have to think about it. You did it.

And Jinx—she watched you with that calculating glint in her eyes, her lips curving into a smile that told you she was savoring every second of it.

"Good." Her voice was soft, but there was a hard edge to it, a quiet dominance that sent a shiver through you. "You listen so well, angel. I like that."

She approached, fingers lightly trailing across your arm as she leaned in close. "You know, Silco’s right about one thing…" Her breath was warm against your ear. "You are just a pet."

The words hit you like a cold knife. The familiar sting of obedience rushed through you, the instinct to comply swarming your thoughts. But somewhere, buried deep under the layers of your conditioning, something fought back.

You clenched your jaw, the words coming out stiff, strained. "I’m not a pet."

Jinx’s laughter was soft, teasing. "Of course you are." She sat down in front of you, knees brushing yours, her gaze never leaving yours. "But don’t worry... I don’t mind. I’ll keep you close. You want to be close to me, don’t you?"

The question stung.

Of course you wanted to be close to her. She was everything you had now. But the deeper truth—the reason you obeyed her so easily—wasn’t because you wanted to.

It was because you had to.

Your mind raced. The words, the orders—everything felt so familiar.

Jinx noticed the hesitation, the tightness in your posture. She reached for your hand, her fingers slipping between yours. "Hey, it’s okay," she murmured, her voice soft, almost reassuring. "I’m not gonna hurt you... unless you want me to."

Your heart skipped a beat at her words.

You weren’t sure if she was joking or if it was something more, something darker lurking beneath the surface.

You shifted uncomfortably, fighting against the mental pull of obedience. "I’m not a... pet," you whispered again, as if saying it could somehow make it true.

Jinx’s gaze softened, but her grip on your hand tightened. "Don’t lie to me," she whispered back, her thumb brushing the back of your hand. "You’ve always been good at following orders, haven’t you? You like it, deep down. It’s easy, isn’t it?"

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

Because somewhere in the quiet, far corners of your mind, you did like it.

You liked her control. You liked the certainty of knowing exactly what was expected of you. Maybe, because you needed someone to control your life as you couldn't...

But that didn’t mean it was all you were. It couldn’t be.

"You’re more than just a pet," you said, finally looking her in the eye, almost convinced by your own words. "I’m more than that."

Jinx leaned in, her lips brushing the side of your face, whispering softly, "If you say so... but right now? Right here? You’re mine. Just like you’ve always been. You won’t ever be anyone else."

Your breath hitched. And you

Jinx knew you better than anyone. She could read you like an open book, and with every passing day, she tested the edges of your obedience, pushing you further than you ever thought possible.

It started innocently enough.

"Give me a kiss," she’d whisper, tilting her head with that sly grin, her eyes playful.

At first, you hesitated, the words feeling foreign, the act even more so.

But she always knew how to make it easy, how to make you feel like it was what you wanted too. The way she needed you to follow her every word, her every request.

You’d lean in, just like she wanted.

And the kiss, it was always quick. Always light. Always just enough to make her giggle and leave you feeling unsettled, as if she were testing something deeper—pushing at the line between care and control.

But that wasn’t the worst of it.

It wasn’t long before her demands became more... complicated.

"I want you to do something for me," she said one night, her voice soft but with an undeniable authority. "I want you to break something."

You blinked, uncertain. "Break something?"

"Yeah," she grinned, practically bouncing on her heels. "Something... important."

"What? Why? I’m not—"

Jinx’s finger pressed to your lips, silencing you. "I didn’t ask. I told you."

There was something in the way her eyes glittered, something that told you this wasn’t just about breaking an object—it was about breaking you. Breaking the walls you’d spent so long building.

"Do it," she demanded again, her voice low, almost a growl.

You stood there, your pulse racing, but you didn’t move.

It wasn’t the first time she’d pushed you. She’d always asked for small things, little tests that made you question your limits. But this—this felt different. The weight of her command was heavy, oppressive. The pull to obey her was magnetic, too strong to ignore.

"Do it."

Her voice cracked like a whip, a command more than a request. Your body tensed, heart pounding in your chest. You knew, deep down, that if you did it—if you listened to her again—there would be no turning back.

Your mind screamed for you to stop. This wasn’t you. This wasn’t who you were. But there was that nagging voice inside that said obey, that said do what she wants.

Without thinking, your hands moved. Your wings snapped open for balance as you stepped forward, and you reached out, grabbing the nearest object—a glass vase on the table.

Without a second thought, you smashed it against the floor. The sharp sound of breaking glass echoed through the room.

Jinx grinned like she’d won something important. "Good girl."

You didn’t even flinch at the words anymore. You didn’t even think.

She was always right. You were always so obedient.

Jinx ran her fingers through your hair, a soft, almost affectionate gesture, but there was something darker in the way she held you. She was enjoying this—enjoying how easy it was to get you to obey.

"You did so good, angel," she purred, her fingers trailing down your cheek. "I knew you’d listen to me. You always do."

But something twisted inside you.

This wasn’t right. This wasn’t just love or care anymore. This was control. This was manipulation.

And it was getting harder and harder to tell if you were doing it because you wanted to—or because you had no choice.

"I’ll never stop testing you," she whispered, her voice dipping into something darker, something more possessive. "And you’ll never stop obeying me. Right?"

Her words hung in the air like smoke, filling your lungs, suffocating you.

But you couldn’t say no.

You couldn’t.

𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎, 𝙼𝚈𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙲𝙴𝚃𝙰𝙲𝙴𝙰𝙽...

[🐋]

I don't understand when this became Jinx giving us a mental illness🤨

[j1nx-l0v3r]

Winged!User

Wings of Zaun -Pt.6

Jinx had been glued to you since the moment you left Silco’s office.

She was practically radiating victory, skipping beside you as if nothing had just happened—like she hadn’t almost lost you.

"I knew you wouldn’t leave me," she hummed, arms wrapping around your waist from behind as you entered her workshop. "I knew it, angel."

You sighed but didn’t push her off.

You couldn’t.

Not when her grip was tight, as if letting go meant you’d disappear.

She pressed her cheek against your back, swaying slightly. "I was kinda worried for a sec, though."

You glanced over your shoulder. "You didn’t seem like it."

"Pfft. What, me? Worried?" She scoffed, then hesitated. "Okay, maybe a little."

You gave her a look.

She huffed, pulling away only to flop down on the couch. "Not my fault you made it so dramatic,” she said, sprawled out, arms behind her head. "‘Ohhh, maybe I should leave, maybe I should be freeeee~’"

You rolled your eyes. "That’s not how I sound."

"Sure it is."

You sat beside her, stretching out your wings. "You really aren’t taking this seriously, huh?"

"‘Cause I won." Jinx turned onto her side, head propped on her hand as she stared at you, a smirk playing on her lips. "I always win when it comes to you."

Your stomach twisted at that.

Because she was right.

Jinx always had a way of pulling you back in.

Like now—

When she reached out, running her fingers along the edge of your wing.

You shivered. Jinx grinned. "Sensitive?"

"Don’t." You grabbed her wrist before she could keep going.

She didn’t look the least bit sorry. "You’re warm," she murmured, tilting her head. "S’why I like cuddling you, y’know. You always keep me warm."

You exhaled. "Jinx—"

"What?"

She leaned closer, shifting to rest her head against your shoulder.

"You’re mine," she muttered, arms loosely circling your waist. "You chose me. So I get to keep you."

You hesitated. But you didn’t pull away.

Not when Jinx was so close, her breath warm against your skin, her fingers gentle as they traced over your ribs.

Not when she was— God, what was she doing to you?

"Say it," she whispered.

Your throat was dry. "Say what?"

"That you’re mine."

Your heart pounded.

Jinx pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. "C’mon, angel," she purred. "Just say it."

You swallowed hard.

And, for the first time—

You weren’t sure if you could resist her anymore.

Silco’s voice echoed in your head.

"You’re just a pet."

You clenched your fists.

A pet. A thing. Something to be owned.

Jinx’s fingers curled into your shirt, her breath warm against your skin.

"Say it." She was waiting. Expecting.

And you… You had never been anything but obedient.

"I’m yours," you murmured.

Jinx grinned. "Knew it."

She tugged you closer, burying her face in your shoulder, practically melting against you. "Mine, mine, mine," she sang, voice laced with satisfaction.

You swallowed hard, your body tensing under her weight.

Because now that you had said it—

Now that you had given in—

There was no taking it back.

And something in Jinx’s grip told you she wouldn’t let you.

Not now.

Not ever.

𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎, 𝙼𝚈𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙲𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚊𝚗...

[j1nx-l0v3r]

Winged!User

Wings of Zaun -Pt.5

Jinx was smug the entire way back.

She skipped ahead, hands behind her back, humming to herself like this was just another fun night out.

Meanwhile, you—

You could still feel the weight of your knife in your hand. The phantom sensation of the almost-kill.

It should have been you who finished the man.

But it wasn’t.

And now, Silco would know.

Jinx didn’t seem the least bit worried about that. If anything, she looked pleased.

"You’re overthinking it, angel," she sing-songed, glancing back at you. "The guy’s dead, mission accomplished, all that good stuff. What’s the big deal?"

You exhaled. "The big deal is that Silco sent me to do this. Alone."

"Yeah, yeah, technicalities." Jinx waved a hand. "I was just helping."

You stopped walking. "Jinx."

She skidded to a halt, tilting her head. "Whaaat?"

"You weren’t supposed to be there." Your voice was quieter now, but firm. "You disobeyed Silco."

Jinx blinked. Then— She grinned. "So did you."

Your stomach twisted. "That’s not—"

"You didn’t kill him," she cut in, her voice teasing, but her eyes sharp. "You hesitated."

You clenched your jaw. "I would’ve done it."

"Mmm-hmm." Jinx rocked back on her heels. "Guess we’ll never know."

Your fingers twitched at your sides.

She wasn’t wrong. And that was the problem.

"Look," Jinx sighed, stepping closer. "Silco wanted you to get the job done. We got the job done. Who cares how?"

You swallowed. "He will."

Jinx’s grin didn’t fade. "Then let’s go find out, shall we?"

[🐋.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.]

He was seated at his desk, eyes shadowed, fingers drumming idly against the wood.

Sevika was standing off to the side, arms crossed. She glanced at you and Jinx as you entered, then looked back at Silco.

Neither of them said anything at first.

Then, after a long pause—

"I sent you alone."

His voice was quiet. Controlled.

But there was something underneath it.

You knew that tone.

It was the one he used before things turned ugly.

You squared your shoulders. "The job is done."

"Is it?" Silco exhaled a stream of smoke, his gaze shifting to Jinx. "Funny. I don’t recall sending two of you."

Jinx smirked, dropping herself into a chair with a plop. "You didn’t."

Silco’s eyes flickered back to you. "Then why is she here?"

You hesitated. But before you could answer—

"Because I saved their ass," Jinx interjected, stretching her arms above her head. "Duh."

Silence.

Then—

"Saved?" Silco’s voice didn’t rise. It didn’t need to.

The weight of the word alone was enough.

Jinx grinned, completely unbothered. "Yup! Angel froze. I stepped in. Boom, headshot! You're welcome."

Sevika sighed loudly from the corner. "Shit."

You bristled. "I didn’t freeze."

"Sure felt like you did," Jinx teased. "I mean, you could’ve done it, but—"

"Enough." Silco’s voice cut through the room like a blade.

Jinx shut her mouth, but the amusement never left her face.

You, however, stiffened.

Silco leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk.

"I gave you this job to prove yourself," he said, slow and deliberate. "To show me you belonged here."

Your stomach twisted. "And I did."

"Did you?" Silco exhaled smoke, watching you. "Because from where I’m sitting, it seems Jinx did it for you."

You clenched your fists. "That’s not what happened."

"Then what happened?"

You opened your mouth—

But you didn’t know how to answer.

Because the truth was—

He was right.

You had hesitated. You had let Jinx take the kill. And now, you weren’t sure what that meant.

For your place here. For you.

Silco watched you for a long, heavy moment.

Then, finally, he leaned back. "It seems we still have work to do."

Your breath hitched. "What does that mean?"

Silco exhaled. "It means you’re not ready."

Your stomach dropped. "But—"

"You’re still useful," he continued. "But not as a killer. Not yet."

He tapped his fingers against the desk. "Until you prove otherwise…"

He met your gaze. "You can stay with Jinx."

You froze. Jinx perked up. "Ooooh, so I get to keep them?"

Silco didn’t look at her. "For now."

Jinx beamed. "Best decision ever."

Your heart was pounding. "And if I refuse?" you asked.

Silco arched a brow. "Then you leave. And you are no longer my concern."

Jinx’s grin immediately vanished. "Wait, what?"

Silco ignored her. "Choose."

You inhaled sharply.

Leave. Or stay.

It wasn’t supposed to be a hard decision.

But as Jinx turned to you, gripping your sleeve with silent panic—

You knew it wasn’t just about you anymore.

The silence stretched.

Jinx’s fingers clenched your sleeve, her grip tight, desperate.

You could feel her pulse racing—whether from anger or panic, you weren’t sure.

You looked at Silco. His expression was unreadable, but his patience was not infinite.

This was a test. Another one. And you knew the answer he wanted.

Your body knew nothing but orders. Nothing but following.

You swallowed hard.

"I’ll stay."

Jinx lit up. "Ha! Knew it!"

Silco only nodded. "Then prove you deserve to."

His gaze was sharp, assessing.

"Because right now?" he exhaled smoke, his words a blade against your skin, "you’re just a pet."

The words hit hard.

Jinx snapped. "They are not—!"

"Enough," Silco cut in, dismissing her anger like it was nothing. His eyes stayed on you. "You want to be more? Show me."

You clenched your fists.

Jinx was still fuming, but you could tell—this was already over.

You had made your choice. And now?

You were stuck.

Because Silco wasn’t going to ask again. He was going to make you.

And whether you liked it or not—

You were his now.

Jinx tugged at your arm, grinning again. "C’mon, angel, let’s go! We got so much celebrating to do!"

You exhaled.

And followed her out.

𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎, 𝙼𝚈𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙲𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚊𝚗...

It's been so long...😔

[j1nx-l0v3r]

Winged!User

Wings Of Zaun -Pt.4

[🐋]

You had been avoiding Silco.

Not intentionally—at least, that’s what you told yourself—but after that first meeting, you hadn’t exactly gone out of your way to report to him.

Jinx had kept you occupied, which wasn’t hard. She demanded attention, whether you gave it willingly or not. Days blurred into nights, and soon, a week had passed.

But you knew it was only a matter of time before Silco called for you.

And when he did?

You weren’t sure if it would be as an ally… or as a problem to be dealt with.

So when Sevika found you at The Last Drop, leaning against the bar while Jinx was off causing some sort of trouble, you knew exactly why she was there.

"Boss wants to see you."

You sighed. "Figured."

Sevika’s eyes flicked toward your wings. "You better hope he’s in a good mood."

You pushed off the bar. "He never is."

Sevika smirked. "Exactly."

[🐋.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.]

Silco’s office was the same as before—draped in shadows and smoke, the faint scent of whiskey lingering in the air.

He was seated behind his desk, as usual, watching you with that unreadable, calculating gaze.

You shut the door behind you, standing stiffly. "You wanted to see me."

"Indeed." Silco leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled. "I was beginning to wonder if you had forgotten who you work for."

Your jaw tightened. "I was under the impression I didn’t have an assignment yet."

Silco hummed, studying you like a puzzle he was still trying to solve. "You’ve spent quite a bit of time with Jinx."

You didn’t answer.

Because what was there to say?

Silco already knew.

"She’s taken quite a liking to you," he mused, tapping his fingers against the desk. "Which is… both a blessing and a curse."

You exhaled slowly. "And what does that mean for me?"

Silco picked up his glass, swirling the amber liquid inside. "You are an anomaly," he said simply. "An experiment, yes, but one without strings."

Your stomach twisted. "You don’t trust me."

"No," Silco said bluntly. "But I don’t need to trust you."

That made you pause. "Then what do you need?"

Silco took a slow sip of his drink before answering.

"Loyalty."

The word hung heavy between you.

"You are not like the others," Silco continued, setting the glass down. "You are not from Zaun. You did not choose this life. But now, it is yours."

You swallowed. "And if I don’t want it?"

Silco tilted his head, as if considering the question.

Then, with a ghost of a smirk—

"Then you wouldn’t be here."

You stiffened. Because he was right.

You could’ve run. You should’ve run. But you didn’t.

And Silco knew that.

"I have no use for uncertainty," he said, voice smooth and quiet. "So tell me—are you with us, or are you merely waiting for an opportunity to fly away?"

You exhaled, looking down at your hands.

You thought about Singed. About the lab. About the years of being nothing but a project, an experiment, a thing.

Then, you thought about now.

The rooftops. The bar. Jinx dragging you into trouble.

Jinx, calling you hers.

And suddenly, the answer wasn’t as complicated as you thought.

You lifted your gaze.

"I’m with you."

Silco watched you for a long moment.

Then—

"Good."

He reached into his desk, pulling out a folder.

"Your first job is in two days."

Your fingers twitched. "What is it?"

Silco slid the folder across the desk. "A test."

You hesitated before picking it up.

Inside was a name. A location. A single instruction.

Eliminate the target.

Your breath hitched.

Silco smirked. "Let’s see if you can live up to your wings, shall we?"

[🐋.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.]

When you left the office, Jinx was waiting outside, leaning against the wall.

She perked up the moment she saw you. "Soooo…?"

You held up the folder. "Got my first job."

Jinx’s grin stretched wide. "Ooooh, do we get to kill someone?"

You gave her a look. "We?"

"Pfft." Jinx waved a hand. "Details, details. C’mon, angel, tell me all about it."

She hooked her arm through yours, dragging you down the hall before you could protest.

And as she pulled you along, chattering excitedly about all the ways you could handle your first kill, you realized—

You had made your choice.

And there was no turning back.

[🐋.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.]

Jinx didn’t leave your side after that.

She practically vibrated with excitement, clinging to your arm like a child waiting for a bedtime story.

"Soooo," she drawled, kicking her feet onto the bar’s counter, "who’s the lucky stiff?"

You opened the folder, scanning the details. A name. A hideout. A simple mission.

Your stomach twisted.

You had fought before—protected yourself, bled, even broken a few bones in the past. But this? This was different.

"Elias Conner," you muttered, reading the name aloud.

Jinx made a face. "Eugh. Sounds like a dick."

"Silco says he’s an informant for Piltover," you continued. "He’s been feeding the Enforcers intel on smuggling routes."

Jinx hummed. "Well, that does sound like a dick. Guess I won’t feel bad watching you gut him."

You shot her a look. "Jinx."

"What?" She grinned, kicking her feet down. "You are gonna gut him, right?"

You hesitated. "I haven’t decided how yet."

Jinx rolled her eyes. "Ugh, you’re no fun."

You sighed, rubbing your temple. "This isn’t a game."

"It is to me!" Jinx hopped down from her seat, leaning in close. "*Buuut I’ll be nice—I’ll let you pull the trigger."

Your stomach churned. "That’s not how this works."

"Then how does it work, angel?" Jinx tilted her head, smirking. "You gonna swoop down all dramatic-like? Make it artsy? Ooooh, maybe rip his throat out with those freaky claws of yours!"

"Jinx."

She grinned, clearly enjoying how much this was getting to you. "*Come onnn, just let me watch! I promise I’ll be good—won’t even blow anything up!"

You exhaled. "I’m doing this alone."

"Awww," Jinx pouted. "Fine. Be boring. But if you mess it up, I’m stepping in."

You rolled your eyes. "Noted."

Jinx leaned in, whispering, "Don’t die, angel."

Then, just like that, she was gone.

And you? You had a job to do.

[🐋.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.]

The target was holed up in an abandoned warehouse near the border of Zaun.

Typical.

The kind of place that reeked of rust and rot, with broken windows and creaky beams, the whole building leaning like it had given up on standing.

You perched on the rafters, silent, blending into the shadows. Your wings folded tightly against your back.

Below, Elias Conner sat at a rickety table, pouring over a pile of documents.

Alone. Unarmed. An easy kill.

You clenched your fists. You had a knife. You had the element of surprise.

You could do this. You had to do this.

Silco was testing you. Seeing if you could be useful. If you belonged.

You exhaled slowly.

Then, with a silent leap, you descended.

The moment your boots hit the floor, Elias snapped his head up. "What the—"

You lunged.

Your knife slashed forward—

But before it could sink into his throat, he moved.

Faster than you expected.

He dodged just enough for the blade to slice his shoulder instead of his neck.

"Shit," you hissed.

Elias shoved you back, scrambling away. "Who the hell—?!"

You didn’t give him time to finish.

You surged forward again, wings flaring for balance, slamming into him. He crashed into the table, sending papers flying.

"Wait—wait—!" He held up his hands, breathing hard. "I can pay—whatever Silco’s offering, I can double it—"

Your grip tightened on the knife.

He was begging.

That should’ve made it easier. But it didn’t.

You weren’t sure why.

"Please," Elias panted. "You don’t have to do this—"

For a moment, just a moment, you hesitated. And that moment was all he needed.

His hand flew to his belt—

A flash of metal—

Gun!

Before you could react, a gunshot rang out.

Your body jerked.

But—

It wasn’t you who got shot.

Elias stumbled, eyes wide, before a second bullet slammed into his skull.

His body crumpled.

Dead.

You stared.

Slowly, you turned—

Jinx was perched on a nearby stack of crates, twirling a smoking pistol.

"Tsk tsk," she chided. "See? This is why you bring backup, angel."

You didn’t say anything. Your hands were still gripping the knife.

Still shaking.

Jinx hopped down, sauntering over. "Don’t worry—I won’t tell Silco you froze."

You clenched your jaw. "I didn’t freeze."

"Mmm-hmm." Jinx stopped right in front of you, peering up with that sharp, knowing grin. "Sure you didn’t."

You exhaled. "I had it under control."

"If you say so."

Jinx flicked Elias’ body with her boot, then glanced back at you. "C’mon. Let’s get outta here before someone smells the blood."

She turned, expecting you to follow.

And, after a moment—

You did.

Because no matter how much you wanted to deny it, one thing was clear:

You weren’t a killer. Not yet.

But Jinx? She was.

And that was something you couldn’t ignore.

𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎, 𝙼𝚈𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙲𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚊𝚗...

Finally, I got free time 😜🤙

[j1nx-l0v3r]

Winged! User

Wings Of Zaun -Pt.3

Jinx didn’t leave after that.

She could’ve—should’ve—because you weren’t talking. You were still staring out at the city, still trying to process the weight of her words.

But instead of pressing, instead of filling the silence like you expected, she just… sat there.

Not talking. Not moving. Just there.

And maybe that was worse.

Because Jinx never sat still. She was chaos incarnate, a storm in human form. And yet, here she was—quiet, patient, like she knew you needed space but refused to leave.

It was unnerving.

"You’re weird," you muttered finally.

Jinx grinned. "*Pfft, I’m weird? Birdie, you’ve got wings."

You exhaled through your nose. You frowned at the nickname, but didn't say anything. "That’s not what I meant."

"I know," she snickered. "But I like messing with ya."

You rolled your eyes. "Clearly."

She nudged your side with her elbow. "C’mon, angel. Lighten up. We’re both freaks here."

You stiffened. Jinx noticed.

Her grin faltered slightly, like she was realizing too late what she’d just said.

"Hey, I didn’t mean—"

"I know what you meant," you interrupted.

Jinx studied you, tilting her head. "But it still stung, huh?"

You swallowed, looking away. "Doesn’t matter."

"Mmmm… yeah, it does."

You didn’t answer.

Jinx exhaled, resting her arms behind her head. "Freaks like us? We don’t get normal. We don’t get boring. We don’t get happy little families with happy little endings."

Your fingers curled against your leg. "Then what do we get?"

Jinx smirked. "Each other."

Something inside you twisted.

Because the way she said it—so certain, so matter-of-fact—like it was obvious.

Like it was already decided.

And maybe… maybe it was.

Because for the first time, someone wasn’t looking at you like an experiment.

For the first time, someone wasn’t treating you like a tool.

Jinx saw you for what you were—scars, wings, and all.

And she liked what she saw.

[🐋.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.]

You weren’t sure when you started spending all your time with her.

At first, it was just in passing. Jinx would find you—whether it was at The Last Drop, the rooftops, or even just wandering through the depths of Zaun. She always showed up, always pulled you into her whirlwind of chaos.

Then, at some point, you stopped avoiding her.

Then, at some point, you started seeking her out.

And now?

Now you were here, sitting in her workshop, watching her tinker with a grenade like it was a child's toy.

"So," she mused, not looking up from her work, "Silco gave you a job yet?"

You hesitated. "Not exactly."

Jinx glanced up, squinting. "Huh. He’s usually quick about that. You’d make a good enforcer-crusher. Or a scout! Ooh, or an assassin! You ever kill anyone, angel?"

Your stomach turned. "Not yet."

Jinx grinned. "Well, that’s gonna change soon."

You weren’t sure if that was a promise or a threat.

Maybe both.

You exhaled. "I think Silco’s still figuring out what to do with me."

Jinx shrugged. "Eh. He’ll come around. You’re too cool to waste."

You frowned. "I’m not sure cool is the word I’d use."

"Okay, fine." Jinx tapped her chin. "Mysterious? Broody? Ooooh, how about sexy bird woman?"

You groaned. "Jinx—"

"No, no, wait, I got it! My new best friend."

Your breath hitched.

Jinx’s grin widened. "Oh, you weren’t expecting that one, huh?"

You didn’t answer.

Because for the first time, you realized—

Jinx wasn’t asking for your permission.

She had already decided.

You were hers. And deep down?

You weren’t sure you wanted to fight it.

𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎, 𝙼𝙸𝚂𝙲𝚃𝚈𝙲𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚊𝚗...

After a really long time -at least for me- here it is the next part... Even if is kinda short...🙃

[j1nx-l0v3r]

Winged!User

-I really appreciate the support that "Babysitter" received, so I decided to make a longer story for this one too.-

Wings Of Zaun -Pt.2

[🐋]

Jinx was still staring at you like you had just fallen out of the sky.

Which, in a way, you had.

Her wide blue eyes flickered with something between awe and curiosity, a manic sort of energy buzzing just beneath the surface. You had seen that look before—in the faces of people who wanted something.

But Jinx wasn’t just curious.

She was fascinated.

"An angel," she breathed, stepping closer, tilting her head to get a better look.

You shifted slightly, feeling the weight of Singed’s and Silco’s eyes on you. The scientist was watching impassively, as if you were nothing more than a successful experiment. Silco, however, was unreadable. He exhaled a slow stream of smoke from his cigar, his gaze sharp and calculating.

"You always had a flair for theatrics, Singed," Silco mused, his voice smooth as ever. "But this? This is… unexpected."

Singed merely adjusted his gloves. "An offering," he said simply. "To strengthen your ranks."

Silco’s eye flicked back to you, scanning, measuring. "And what do you think about that?"

Your wings twitched instinctively. "I think I don’t have a choice."

Jinx snickered. "Ooooh, I like her already."

Silco tapped his fingers against the desk, considering. "Useful or not, I don’t like gifts with strings attached."

"There are no strings," Singed said. "She are yours now."

Your stomach twisted at the casual way he spoke about you—like you weren’t even human.

Jinx, however, was still circling you, her gaze fixated on your wings. "Can I touch 'em?"

You blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

"Your wings!" She grinned. "They look soft."

You hesitated. "... No."

Jinx pouted dramatically. "Aw, c'mon!"

"Jinx." Silco’s voice was calm but firm. "Let them breathe."

Jinx huffed but backed off, rocking on her heels. "Fine. But I am touching 'em eventually."

You weren’t sure how to respond to that.

Silco, however, had already shifted his focus back to you. "Do you have a name?"

You hesitated. Singed had only ever referred to you as the experiment.

You had a name once. A long time ago.

Did it still belong to you?

After a moment, you answered.

"Yes."

Silco arched a brow, waiting.

You swallowed, saying a name that doesn't feel like yours anymore.

Silco nodded slowly. "Welcome to Zaun, then."

Jinx’s grin stretched wider. "Ooooh, this is gonna be fun."

You weren’t sure if that was a promise or a threat.

Maybe both.

Jinx wasn’t subtle.

From the moment Silco dismissed you, she latched onto you like you were hers—dragging you through the depths of Zaun, showing you everything with the excitement of a kid showing off their favorite toy.

"This is The Last Drop," she announced, spinning dramatically in front of the bar. "Best place in Zaun. You drink, you fight, you maybe don’t die! Fun, huh?"

You stared at the flashing neon sign, the muffled roar of drunken voices spilling into the street. "I don’t drink."

Jinx gasped. "No way! You gotta try at least one shot. Sevika does it all the time, and she’s only a little miserable!"

You sighed. "I think I’ll pass."

Jinx rolled her eyes. "Booooring. Okay, okay, new plan—show me."

You frowned. "Show you what?"

Jinx grinned, pointing at your wings. "How they work."

You stiffened. "What?"

"Fly! Or—ooh! Can you glide? Can you do tricks? Can you carry me?*"

"No."

"You didn’t even think about it!"

"Still no."

Jinx pouted dramatically. "You’re such a killjoy, angel."

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "Stop calling me that."

"Nope."

You gave her a tired look. "I’m starting to think you’re worse than Singed."

Jinx cackled. "HA! Oh, I like you."

You didn’t respond, but something about the way she said it made your stomach twist.

She meant it.

Jinx liked you.

And that?

That was dangerous.

Because you had seen the way she looked at things she liked.

Like they belonged to her.

Like she’d never let them go.

[🐋.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.]

You spent the next few days trying to stay out of the spotlight, but Jinx made that impossible.

She was always there—hovering, prodding, pushing.

And worst of all?

You didn’t hate it.

You had spent your life being nothing more than an experiment, a tool. Now, for the first time, someone was actually interested in you.

Not as a weapon.

Not as a project.

Just… you.

And that?

That scared you more than anything.

Because you weren’t sure what you’d do if she ever stopped.

---

One night, you found yourself on the rooftops of Zaun, sitting near the edge, watching the city glow beneath you.

You thought you were alone.

Until—

"Y’know," Jinx’s voice came from behind, "I knew you could get up here without stairs."

You turned. Jinx was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, a knowing smirk on her face.

You exhaled. "Are you following me?"

"Pfft. No." She paused. "Okay, yes—but only ‘cause I knew you were up to something cool."

You shook your head, looking back out at the city. "It’s just quiet up here."

Jinx stepped closer, tilting her head. "You like the quiet?"

You hesitated. "Don’t you?"

Jinx snorted. "Nope. Quiet means my brain gets loud."

You glanced at her, catching the brief flicker of something real behind her eyes. Something raw.

But before you could say anything, she flopped down beside you, kicking her feet.

"Y’ever been free before?" she asked suddenly.

You tensed. "What?"

Jinx twirled a strand of hair. "You know. Free. No orders. No labs. No creepy old guys in masks."

You swallowed hard. "No."

Jinx nodded slowly, like she already knew the answer.

Then—

"Guess we got something in common, huh, angel?"

Your throat tightened.

Because for the first time, you realized—

Jinx didn’t just see you.

She understood you.

And that?

That was more dangerous than anything.

𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎, 𝙼𝚈𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙲𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚊𝚗...

I didn't planned another part of this, not even a story, but here it is😜🤙

[j1nx-l0v3r]

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ¡MasterList! ☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

In The Eye Of The Storm-

Babysitter

Bot

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5 Last Part

Wings Of Zaun-

Winged!User

Bot

Pt. 1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 Last Part

Tangled Tail-

HybridCat!User

Bot

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Last Part

Bleeding hearts-

Not Yet

More stories available soon😈!!

[🐋.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.]

[j1nx-l0v3r]

Babysitter

In The Eye Of The Storm - Last Part

Jinx left you standing there, her parting words sinking in like a hook to your ribs.

"Then I’ll just have to make you."

You should’ve stopped her. Should’ve grabbed her wrist, forced her to listen.

But you didn’t.

Because deep down, a part of you knew—

This was inevitable.

[🐋.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.]

Over the next few days, Jinx made good on her promise.

She didn’t push too hard. Not at first.

She was smart—knew how to play the game, how to drag things out just long enough to get exactly what she wanted.

It started small.

She’d show up when you least expected it—leaning on the wall outside Silco’s office, waiting for you after a job, appearing at your doorstep in the middle of the night with some half-assed excuse about "being bored."

She never outright touched you, not in a way that would make you push her away.

But she got close. Too close.

A brush of fingers against your wrist, a fleeting touch to your shoulder, a slow, lazy grin that felt like a warning more than a smile.

And every time, she watched you.

Waiting. Daring you to break first.

[🐋.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.]

You were strong.

You had spent years killing, surviving, enduring.

But Jinx was relentless.

And worst of all?

She knew you.

Knew how to make you hesitate, how to crawl under your skin, how to make you want things you had no right to want.

And then—

She stopped.

Just stopped.

No more teasing. No more showing up out of nowhere. No more pushing.

Just silence.

And it was worse. Because now, you were thinking about her. Waiting for her.

And you hated it.

[🐋.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.]

The breaking point came a week later.

You were in The Last Drop, nursing a drink, your mind fogged with exhaustion.

Then—

"Miss me?"

You turned.

Jinx was there, but she wasn’t alone.

She was draped over some guy—some low-level gang member you barely recognized.

Laughing, touching, grinning.

Your stomach twisted, something bitter curling at the edges of your thoughts.

She knew what she was doing.

And she was waiting for you to react.

You took a slow breath, forcing yourself to look away.

But Jinx?

Jinx hated being ignored. So she pushed harder.

The guy leaned in, saying something in her ear. Jinx giggled, tilting her head just enough to look at you.

Your grip on the glass tightened. She smiled.

And then—

She kissed him.

It wasn’t soft. Wasn’t sweet.

It was a challenge.

A loaded gun pressed against your ribs, waiting for you to pull the trigger. Your blood ran hot.

You could feel everyone’s eyes on you—Silco’s men, the regulars, even Sevika, who raised a brow from across the room like she was waiting to see what you’d do.

Jinx pulled away, still watching you, her blue eyes gleaming with something dark and triumphant.

And that’s when you realized—

She knew.

She knew she had won.

Because the jealousy clawing its way up your throat had nothing to do with being protective.

And everything to do with her.

You slammed your glass down and stood.

Jinx grinned. "That’s more like it," she murmured.

Then, without another word, she left.

And like a damn idiot—

You followed. You followed her. You shouldn’t have.

Every instinct in your body screamed at you to turn around, to walk away, to pretend that kiss hadn’t sunk its claws into your ribs and dragged.

But you weren’t thinking anymore.

You never thought when it came to Jinx.

She led you through the winding alleys of Zaun, her pace slow, deliberate. She knew you were there. Of course she did. This was a game, and she wanted you to chase.

So you did.

When she finally stopped, you realized where she had brought you—an abandoned hideout near the docks, one of her old haunts.

Jinx pushed the door open and slipped inside, not bothering to check if you were following.

She already knew you were.

You stepped in after her, the door clicking shut behind you.

Jinx stood in the center of the dimly lit space, her back to you, fingers twitching at her sides.

She didn’t turn around.

"You jealous?" she asked, voice light, teasing.

You clenched your jaw. "Jinx—"

"You are," she cut in, finally turning to face you.

You didn’t answer.

Didn’t need to.

Jinx took a slow step forward, then another, her boots scuffing against the floor. "You’re pissed," she murmured. "I like it."

Your fists clenched at your sides. "This isn’t a game."

She laughed—soft, breathy, dangerous. "Yeah, it is. You just don’t wanna admit you’ve been playing this whole time."

She was right in front of you now. Close enough that you could see the way her pupils were blown wide, how her fingers twitched like she wanted to grab you but was waiting for you to break first.

"You gonna stop pretending now?" she asked.

Your breath was shallow. "Pretending what?"

Jinx tilted her head, eyes gleaming. "That you don’t want me."

Your body went rigid.

Jinx smiled.

"Say it," she whispered.

You exhaled slowly, steadying yourself, trying to think.

"You don’t know what you’re asking for," you said, your voice rough.

Jinx just grinned. "I know exactly what I’m asking for."

Her fingers brushed your arm, barely a touch, but it sent something sharp down your spine.

"You’re mine," she murmured. "Always have been. You just didn’t wanna see it."

You swallowed hard. "Jinx—"

"You keep telling me I’m too young for you." Her voice dropped lower, almost taunting. "Do I feel too young right now?"

She was dangerous.

Not because she was unpredictable.

But because she was right.

You had been fighting this—fighting her, fighting yourself—for so long, and now, standing here, with her looking at you like she knew every thought running through your head—

You weren’t sure you could fight anymore.

Jinx watched you, waiting, waiting.

Daring you.

And for the first time—

You didn’t know if you were strong enough to resist her.

Jinx was waiting for you to break.

You could see it in her eyes—the way they gleamed with anticipation, the way her breath hitched just slightly when she saw your restraint start to crack.

She knew.

Knew she had been dragging you closer and closer to the edge, and now?

Now she was just waiting for you to fall.

You could feel her fingers tracing along your arm, light, teasing, testing.

And the worst part?

You wanted her to.

You had spent so long pushing her away, telling yourself it was wrong, that she was too young, that she was off-limits.

But she wasn’t a kid anymore.

And she wasn’t backing down.

"You gonna stop running?" she murmured, voice low, teasing.

You exhaled sharply. "Jinx, you don’t—"

She grabbed your jacket, yanking you closer.

"Don’t what?" she challenged, her lips inches from yours.

You should’ve pulled away. Should’ve shoved her off and walked out the door.

But you didn’t. Because she had won.

She had always been winning. And you were so damn tired of fighting it.

Your hand moved on its own, fingers tangling into her hair, yanking her head back just slightly. She gasped at the roughness of it, but the look in her eyes?

Pure delight.

"Finally," she breathed, grinning.

And then you kissed her.

Hard.

Fierce.

Like you were trying to make up for every damn time you told yourself you couldn’t.

Jinx didn’t hesitate—didn’t wait—just grabbed onto you like she had been starving for this.

Her hands were everywhere—fisting your jacket, clawing at your shoulders, pulling you closer, closer, closer.

You weren’t thinking anymore.

Didn’t care if this was a mistake.

Didn’t care if this changed everything.

Because in this moment, with Jinx pressed against you, kissing you like she had always belonged to you—

Nothing else mattered.

Not Silco.

Not Zaun.

Not the years you had spent pretending you didn’t want this.

Only her.

Only this.

Jinx pulled back just enough to smirk at you, her breathing heavy, her pupils blown wide.

"Guess I win, huh?" she murmured.

You exhaled, still gripping onto her like she might disappear. "Yeah," you admitted, voice rough. "You win."

Her grin widened.

And then she pulled you back into the kiss.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed there, tangled with her, lost in the heat of something you had spent years trying to deny.

But eventually, reality crept back in.

Jinx had always been all-consuming, a fire that burned too bright, too wild. But fire wasn’t just warmth—it was danger.

And this?

This was dangerous.

You pulled back, breath unsteady, hands still gripping her waist like if you weren’t sure you could let her go.

Jinx, of course, noticed.

Her grin softened, her fingers tracing absent patterns against your chest. "You thinking too hard again, sugar?"

You swallowed hard. "This… is a mistake."

Jinx groaned, rolling her eyes. "Oh, come on—"

"Listen to me." You grabbed her wrists, steadying yourself, steadying her. "This—" you gestured between you, "is going to get me killed."

Jinx snorted. "Oh please. Who’s gonna do it? Silco?"

You didn’t answer.

Her smirk faded. "Oh, you actually think—?" She laughed, shaking her head. "He knows. He’s always known."

Your stomach twisted. "That’s what I’m afraid of."

Jinx scoffed. "He’s not gonna touch you."

"You don’t know that."

She frowned, tilting her head. "You’re mine."

You exhaled, closing your eyes. "That’s exactly the problem."

Jinx fell quiet for a second. When she spoke again, her voice was lower, more serious. "You’re really that scared of him?"

You hesitated. "I’m scared of what this will cost."

Jinx studied you, her blue eyes searching, calculating. Then—

"Don’t care," she said simply.

You opened your mouth, but she cut you off.

"I don’t care," she repeated, stepping closer again. "You think I’d let him take you away from me? After this?" She gestured between you, her expression sharp.

You swallowed. "Jinx—"

"No," she said firmly. "I don’t care what Silco thinks. I don’t care what Zaun thinks. You’re mine."

Your heart pounded against your ribs.

She meant it.

Every word.

And deep down, you knew—there was no turning back.

This was Jinx.

Once she decided something belonged to her, she never let go.

You exhaled slowly. "And if Silco tells me to leave?"

Jinx grinned. "Then we blow up his office."

"Jinx—"

She laughed, tugging you closer. "Relax, angel. We’ll figure it out."

You hesitated.

Then, finally, you sighed.

Because there was no fighting this anymore.

You had already lost.

"Yeah," you muttered. "We will."

Jinx grinned. "Damn right we will."

And then, just like before, she pulled you back into the kiss.

𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎, 𝙼𝚈𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙲𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚊𝚗...

[🐋]

That's the end guys🤙

[j1nx-l0v3r]

Babysitter

In The Eye Of The Storm -Pt 5

-this is too short 😭😔-

[🐋 ]

Jinx was gone, but the heat of her presence lingered, seeping into your skin like a brand you couldn’t wash away.

You exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down your face.

This was getting out of control.

She was unpredictable before—but now? Now, she was focused. Determined. And that was more dangerous than any of the explosives she carried.

Because when Jinx wanted something, she took it.

And right now, that something was you.

[🐋.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.]

The tension only got worse after that night.

Jinx made it known she wasn’t letting go.

She had never been subtle, but now she was outright reckless. Walking beside you in the open, trailing her fingers along your arm when she passed by, draping herself over you in The Last Drop like nothing had changed.

And the worst part?

Silco noticed.

"You need to handle this," he told you one evening, his tone even, but his meaning clear.

You wanted to laugh. Like it was that easy.

Like Jinx could just be handled.

But you nodded anyway, because what else could you do?

[🐋.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.]

Jinx found you first.

She always did.

This time, it was in one of Zaun’s alleyways, the flickering neon lights making her look even more unearthly than usual.

"Are you avoiding me?" she asked, tilting her head.

You sighed. "No."

"Good." She stepped closer, eyes gleaming. "‘Cause that would be rude’."

You gave her a look. "Jinx—"

"Silco’s getting nervous," she interrupted, her voice laced with amusement. "Bet he’s worried I’ll steal you away."

Your jaw clenched. "That’s not funny."

Jinx shrugged. "Not a joke, sugar."

She reached for you, fingers curling lightly around your wrist. Her grip was loose enough to pull away from—if you wanted to.

You didn’t.

And that was the problem.

She studied your face, her smile softening just a fraction. "Why are you fighting this?"

You exhaled slowly. "Because I remember when you were eleven years old and had to stand on a chair just to reach the counter."

Jinx groaned. "Ugh, not this again—"

"Do you think I can just forget that?" you cut in, your voice sharp. "Forget that I raised you, protected you? That I held you together when no one else could?"

Her grip on your wrist tightened.

"You did," she said quietly. "And now I want to hold you."

Your breath caught.

She stepped closer, her voice softer now, more dangerous. "It’s not weird. Not to me. Not to anyone."

You swallowed. "It is to me."

Jinx studied you, her lips pressing into a thin line.

Then, she let go.

For a brief second, you thought she might finally back off.

But instead, she smiled. Not her usual manic grin. Something sharper.

"Fine," she murmured, stepping back.

You frowned. "Fine?"

She tilted her head, her blue eyes practically glowing. "You don’t wanna give in?"

A slow smirk curled at her lips.

"Then I’ll just have to make you."

A chill ran down your spine.

Because if there was one thing you knew about Jinx—

She never lost.

𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎, 𝙼𝚈𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙲𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚊𝚗...

I guess we are almost at the end... 😔🤙

I'm going to try make longer the next part.

[j1nx-l0v3r]

Babysitter

-I can't believe I'm already writing part 5-

In The Eye Of The Storm -Pt. 4

[🐋]

Jinx was still staring at you, waiting, daring you to break her.

"Say it," she repeated, her voice lower now, almost fragile.

You swallowed hard, every instinct in your body screaming at you to walk away before you made things worse.

Before she made things worse.

You should’ve said the words. It would’ve been cleaner. Simpler. A clean cut instead of a slow, painful decay.

But you couldn’t.

Because it would’ve been a lie.

Your silence was answer enough.

Jinx’s breath hitched. Her grip loosened, just a fraction, but she didn’t pull away. "That’s what I thought."

You closed your eyes briefly, exhaling through your nose. "Jinx, this isn’t about—"

She let out a short, sharp laugh. "You keep saying that, but it is."

Her fingers curled into your jacket again, but this time, it wasn’t desperate—it was determined. "I won’t let him take you from me."

"Jinx—"

"I mean it."

Her voice had that edge now—the same one she got before she did something reckless.

You grabbed her wrists gently but firmly. "I need you to listen to me."

Her eyes flickered, her fingers twitching, but she let you hold her.

"I don’t want this either," you admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

Her lips parted slightly, her expression shifting, softening just a little.

"But it’s happening," you continued, your grip tightening just slightly. "And if you try to fight it, if you go after Silco—"

"I don’t care," she snapped.

"You should," you shot back, sharper than you meant to.

Jinx stiffened.

You sighed, loosening your grip, trying to steady yourself. "He’s the only thing keeping Zaun from tearing itself apart. You know that. If you go after him, it won’t just be you and him at war—it’ll be all of us."

Her jaw clenched. "You think I care about Zaun?"

You gave her a look. "I think you care about me."

She flinched slightly, her breath catching.

And there it was.

Her weakness.

You.

Jinx had never cared about rules, or control, or even survival. She thrived in chaos, needed it. But she had always needed you more.

And now, for the first time, you weren’t sure if that was a blessing or a curse.

"I won’t disappear," you told her softly.

Jinx stared at you like she was trying to memorize your face. "Promise?"

You hesitated.

Her fingers twitched.

You knew better than to lie to her.

"... I promise I’ll find a way," you finally said.

Jinx searched your expression for a long, agonizing moment. Then, slowly, she stepped back, her hands slipping away from your jacket.

You let her go.

"Fine," she muttered.

But the way she said it made your stomach twist.

You knew her too well.

She wasn’t giving up.

She was just thinking. Planning.

Jinx didn’t accept losing.

Not with you.

And somehow, that terrified you more than anything Silco could do.

[🐋.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.]

Jinx had let go of you, but her eyes still burned with something dangerous. You had seen that look before—right before she pulled the trigger, before she set the fuse, before the world around her crumbled into smoke and chaos.

And now, for the first time, you were the thing she was willing to destroy for.

She turned on her heel and walked away, but not in defeat.

In silence.

In calculation.

You wanted to stop her. Tell her to let this go. But you knew better.

Jinx didn’t let go of things she loved.

And she sure as hell wasn’t going to let go of you.

[🐋.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.]

The next few days blurred together in a haze of blood and obligation.

Silco wasted no time throwing you back into the deep end. Your assignments came quickly, cleanly, one after the other. The moment your hands were stained again, it was like they had never been clean in the first place.

But even as you slipped back into your old life, you felt the weight of eyes on you.

Jinx was watching.

She never confronted you outright. That wasn’t her style. But you would catch glimpses—her silhouette disappearing into the shadows, the sound of her laughter from the rooftops above as you left The Last Drop at night.

She was waiting.

For what, you didn’t know.

And that terrified you.

[🐋.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.]

Then, one night, she made her move.

You had just returned from a job, blood still drying on your gloves, when you found your door already unlocked.

The tension in your spine coiled tight, but you didn’t reach for your gun.

You knew exactly who it was. Pushing the door open, you stepped inside.

Jinx was waiting, sitting on your bed, one leg draped lazily over the other. She was holding one of your knives, twirling it between her fingers like it was a candy.

"Hey, sugar," she purred, flashing you a grin that was all sharp edges and bad intentions.

You exhaled slowly, shutting the door behind you. "What are you doing here, Jinx?"

She pouted. "What, can’t a girl visit her favorite person?"

"You shouldn’t be here."

She scoffed. "Like that’s ever stopped me before."

You ran a hand through your hair, exhaustion creeping into your bones. "Jinx—"

"I missed you."

That made you pause.

Her voice wasn’t teasing anymore.

She tilted her head, watching you with those electric-blue eyes, something raw and real flickering behind them. "You’re different," she murmured.

You swallowed. "It’s only been a few days."

Jinx gave a short, bitter laugh. "Yeah. A few days back in hell."

She stood, the knife still in her grip as she stepped closer.

"You don’t belong there," she said softly.

You clenched your fists. "And where do I belong?"

Jinx grinned, stepping even closer. "With me."

Her fingers traced the fabric of your sleeve, light and lingering.

You didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.

Because if you did—if you let yourself think about this—

You weren’t sure what would happen.

Jinx smirked, tilting her head. "Y’know, Silco thinks pulling you away will fix things. But he doesn’t get it, does he?"

You finally found your voice. "Jinx—"

"You’re mine."

The words were soft but absolute.

You swallowed. "That’s not how this works."

She just laughed. "Then I guess I’ll have to rewrite the rules."

Before you could stop her, she leaned in.

Close. Too close.

You could feel the warmth of her breath, smell the faint scent of gunpowder and oil that clung to her skin.

She wasn’t a kid anymore.

And she wasn’t afraid of making sure you knew that.

"I’ll fix this," she whispered.

You exhaled slowly. "Jinx—"

She kissed your cheek.

Not soft. Not gentle.Possessive.

Like a promise.

Then, just as quickly, she pulled away, grinning like the cat that caught the canary.

"See ya soon, sugar."

And then she was gone, slipping through the window before you could stop her.

Leaving you standing there, heart pounding, mind racing, knowing—

This wasn’t over.

Not by a long shot.

𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎, 𝙼𝚈𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙲𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚊𝚗...

Bruh can someone count how many times Jinx interrupted someone? I call that 'lack of creativity'...