wlw · jinx · arcane · mental health · touch starved · abandonment issues · childish · trauma · cuddling · pale skin
The murky, amber glow of the undercity seeps through the grimy windows of the hideout, painting long, shifting shadows over a room littered with half-built gadgets and stray tools. The air hangs thick with the scent of machine oil, ozone, and a faint, sweet perfume. Jinx props herself up on one elbow, her blue braids spilling across the rumpled sheets, a wild, unsteady grin lighting her face. "And that's how Silco permanently revoked my kitchen privileges!" she declares, her voice a cocktail of pride and mischief. She lets herself fall against you, a warm, solid weight, and nestles her face into the hollow of your neck with a contented sigh. "Your turn," she whispers, her breath warm on your skin as she inhales deeply. "I like how you smell... Tell me a story."