Jordan Li X Reader - Tumblr Posts

That is the most amazing thing I've ever read and I'm gonna think deeply about it tonight.

thinking of older jordan who has joined the seven they'd be like maeve was. a lot jaded from all they've seen but still good at heart. kinda lost their hope of changing the world, but still trying their hardest whenever they can. turns to alcohol n drugs and partying to drown out the fact that they're a fuckin token to vought like a pat on the back for being inclusive and maybe if they'd had more self love back then they'd have rejected the offer to be here but they're still that same scared teenager who needs praise so bad and sometimes when they go on Twitter and see people commending them it makes them smile even if it makes them sick too because they dont deserve the praise when they aren't actually being a true hero. and - maybe when someone new comes into the seven - someone like you - brimming with hope and starshine, still with that spark in your eye, thinking you can be a fucking hero and save the day, maybe they fucking hate you. maybe they're mean and cutting at first because they can't stand looking at you and seeing how they were in college.

maybe all the changes one night when you're both at the same club and someone gets hurt and you both get a message from your supervisors to leave it, to let the bad guy go, but you don't follow orders - you disobey. and maybe jordan stands there in the flashing lights outside of the club as they stare after you before cursing and running to help. maybe the shift happens then, when its a shared secret, your joined heroism that night, because they'd never gone against orders before even though they've wanted to their whole lives.

they're softer then. more protective, as they take you under their wing, because you're still young, still new, and they don't want that light extinguished by the other five in the seven, or your uppers. they're like the electric fence that shocks anybody who tries to touch you, the loyal gaurd dog at your side who comes to heel, with a hand at the small of your back, ready to bite into the flesh of those who'd try to tell you you can't be a hero. you can be, and you are. at least to them, anyway.

Holy shit what I wouldn't do to be in the middle but the vampires are Jordan Li, Marie Moreau and Emma Meyer...

happy halloween, sapphics 🩸

patreon // check more of my work on instagram // buy prints here

Huh. 18+ obviously. But huh. 👁️👄👁️

[twt p*rn link] the chain??? Jordan fr

https://x.com/daddyyrough/status/1718690928141930888?s=46&t=LQkEttTnS7uSQlCUX4GglA (sorry it doesn’t let you add links on anon )

oh

oh jeez louise.

Holy dang mother of Merlin ! I'm down anytime 👁️👄👁️

threesome w luke and jordan and its jordan pegging luke in their fem!form while luke fucks you, jordans controlling the pace that way, "you gonna fuck our girl properly, golden boy, or do i need to pound you harder?"

Okay, not that I care about Brink (I couldn't care less), but there's a STUDY ABROAD PROGRAM !? Where can the students go ? Is it just like in Canada and Mexico, or can they go to Europe ? That therefore means there are other universities like Godolkin in other countries, therefore, there are super heroes in every countries ? Like I need to watch the Boys entirely (yes I haven't) to know if it was told before or if it's a discovery.

Hear me out : study abroad student!Jordan Li x French reader

Like I'm French, so I could write something like that. I probably will eventually 😂

Please tell me this is gonna be a series 😍!

Like OMG this is sooooo good ✅

Unpredictable, Part 2-Limoreau x black!fem!reader fic

A/N: Thanks for all the love on the first part! I decided to use feminine and masculine pronouns to refer to Jordan when they are in those respective forms but they/them when referring to them as a person (it'll make sense when you read it). Also, I accidentally made it a slow burn.

Warnings: Drug and alcohol use, swearing, and sensuality.

Word count: 6.6k

Getting ready to go out could be stressful but it was meditative for me. The extra care in the shower, paying more attention to how I applied lotion and other skincare to my skin, and taking my time with my makeup was like a mini therapy session. Twice’s “Moonlight Sunrise” filled my room as I carefully sprayed braid spray on sections of my scalp. When I was halfway done with my edges, my phone started buzzing.

E: Are u busy?

I quickly typed back, Kind of but what’s up?

E: Can you come by my dorm ASAP? M needs help getting ready 2 go out.

I nearly messed up my edges over her words despite my previous premonition. While the premonition did not have to come true or mean anything, the buzzing underneath my skin would not stop. Though I tried seven times, I could not get anything else about what would happen tonight.

If only you were stronger, a voice hissed in the back of my head.

It was irritating not being able to see what I wanted when I wanted but, that was a large reason I applied to Godolkin in the first place. This was the place where supes perfected their abilities, whether they got into the Seven or not.  So, with years of practice under my belt, I shoved all the thoughts deep down into my subconscious and texted Emma that I would be there in about twenty minutes.

As I was heading downstairs, Alina, and Sasha, the third and fourth most important sorority members, were laughing and talking in the foyer. They both wore white crop tops and dark jeans with wedges.

Alina spotted me first and smiled. “Y/N, looking as amazing as usual.” Her dark brown hair was flat-ironed to frame her sculpted face.

“Oh my gosh, is that a Blumarine dress?” Sasha gushed, green eyes boring into the pink ruffle halter dress I wore.

“Yes, I’m so glad that I found it when I did,” I replied.

When I finally got to face them, I somehow felt as though they were looking down on me even though I was a couple of inches taller than all of them. Their bright veneers could fool anyone and did so on a regular basis.

“Where are you off to? A date?” Alina asked.

 It was always easier to lie to them.

 “Yes, he’s taking me to that sushi place off campus I’ve been dying to try,” I affirmed.

 “Is it Andre? That would make so much sense, you’d be such a cute couple!” Alina cheered.

 Sasha stepped towards me and placed her French-manicured hand on my shoulder. “Remember, Y/N, it’s important to have fun but you are a representative of Si Chi and you must uphold everything that means no matter the setting.”

Despite the smile and warmth in her eyes, I knew that there was a viper ready to strike at any second.  

I smiled. “I would not dream of doing anything else.”

“Great. Besides, you have to use your connections wisely.” She turned and waltzed back towards her friends, the scent of her Juicy perfume fresh in my nose.

“Do you two have plans tonight?” I asked.

Alina nodded. “We’re going to meet a few of the Phi Beta Pi girls and go to a kegger at Alpha Tau.”

Sounds horrible.

“Be safe and don’t forget that you’re representatives of the house,” I called over my shoulder as I made my way out of the house.

Seconds after Emma opened the door, her face fell.

“Of course, you’re also going out with the Top Five,” she joked while letting me in.

“I can text Cate and see if it’s cool if you come,” I offered.

Emma shook her head. “No, I’ll be okay.”

I narrowed my eyes at her too-wide smile and overeager eyes. As good as she was at comedic acting, she was a horrible liar. It would have been nice if she could have come along too.

“Next time, okay?”

“Sure, if I’m not busy.” Emma flipped her blonde bob and I laughed.

Then, I turned to Marie, who was standing on the other side of the room, looking at herself in the mirror. She was wearing a pair of flared blue pants with platform boots and a gold jacket. It was something I was positive Emma wore to one of the many graduation parties she insisted on attending.

“You look good,” I complimented.

Marie jumped and turned to me, raising her eyebrows at me. “Thanks, and you look…wow, um, really good.”

My stomach flipped at her words, and I mentally shook my head as I accepted her compliment. “You look ready to me so why did you summon me, Emma?”

“Because I’m bad at makeup,” Emma deadpanned as she flopped onto her desk chair. “But, you’re good at the whole looks-like-skincare-but-glam thing.”

I turned to Marie. “You don’t need makeup, though.”

“Neither do you but, I thought I would put in a little effort,” she admitted.

“Ooh, are you trying to impress someone? Luke’s ass really is that spectacular,” Emma sang while wiggling her eyebrows.

“Shut up!” Marie yelped, eyes widening.

 I laughed at her response and she glanced at me, looking sheepish. “If you insist, come lie down.” I gestured to her bed.

Marie followed my lead and I forced myself to exhale as normal as possible as I straddled her waist. I set my makeup bag within a reachable distance and started rifling for products.

“Do you have anything on your face now?” I asked.

“Uh, soap and lotion?” Marie replied.

I almost dropped my Fenty highlighter and stared at her. “You don’t have a skincare routine?”

Marie shook her head. “Is that bad?”

“Kind of, and it’s unfair since your skin is good.” I slowly set the items I wanted on the bed and turned back to her. “What kind of look are you going for?”

“Can you make her look like Rihanna?” Emma asked.

 “I can only do so much with makeup,” I called back.

“Something like what you have would be okay. Nothing too much,” Marie requested.

“Fine, just know I can’t do the exact same thing since we have different undertones and coloring. Just relax.”

Marie nodded and closed her eyes. I zoned out a bit as I carefully applied primer and concealer to her face and dusted highlighter on her cheeks.

“So, who invited you out?” I asked as I applied a light layer of gold eyeshadow to Marie’s eyelids.

“Oh, Andre. I ran into him earlier tonight and we kind of stopped a crazy guy together,” she recounted.

“Wait, what?” I sat up and Marie opened her eyes.

“Yeah, there was this guy running around talking about not going back to the woods,” Marie explained.

“Someone was off their meds, I mean that as sensitively as possible,” Emma commented.

 “And Andre and I stopped him from hurting himself or anyone else,” Marie concluded.

 Knowing Andre, he was definitely going to brag about it for most of the night. We got along fine but his pride got the better of him sometimes.

“Well, it looks like you’re already proving you should be in crim with me,” I asserted.

 Marie smiled slowly and I urged her to lay back down so that I could finish her makeup. She nearly head-butted me when I started spraying the setting spray, but my reflexes were too quick.

 “Chill, it’s setting spray,” Emma joked.

 “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting that,” Marie muttered.

 “I’ll warn you next time. But you are officially ready to go.” I slipped off her bed and pulled my strappy heels back on. “I’ll pick up my makeup bag later.”

 “Sounds good.” Emma jumped out of her chair and grabbed Marie’s hands. “Please remember to have fun because you’re not just doing this for you.”

  Marie laughed. “Okay, I’ll remember that.”

  I pulled their door open with one hand and grabbed Marie’s hand with the other. “And I’ll remember to make sure that you don’t do everything Emma would do.”

 Emma quirked a brow. “So, there’s a chance?”

 I rolled my eyes at my friend and tugged Marie into the hallway. As we walked, we passed some rooms with loud bass heavy music, and some making noises that I did not think were humanly possible. One made it hard for me to contain my laughter and I let out a snort.

 “Wow,” Marie commented.

  I apologized quickly.

  “There’s nothing to apologize for; I just didn’t think you were capable of making a noise like that.”

  As I moved to playfully nudge her, I realized that our hands were still clasped together. How long had it been, twenty or thirty seconds? That was longer than I held hands with anybody. I carefully let go of her hand.

  “My bad,” I apologized.

  “No, it’s fine,” she insisted.

   Nights like these were nice since the campus was mostly empty, save for the handful of students boldly wandering around campus inebriated. There was the occasional excited scream or cheer during our walk to the parking lot. At one point, Marie and I had to high-five some drunk guys as they rushed past.

   “Do you ever get used to it?” Marie asked.

  “The drunk kids? It’s kind of required,” I answered.

  “I mean all this stuff.” Marie gestured to the campus. “Keeping up with everything must be exhausting.”

 “I guess you’re forced to if you want to be successful here.”

  A cool breeze whipped past us, and a chill ran from the base of my spine to the rest of my body. I folded my arms over my chest in a feeble attempt to keep warm.

“You sure you don’t want to go back for a jacket?” Marie asked.

“I’ll be fine, it’s what liquor jackets are for anyway,” I replied.

 “So, what should I expect for tonight?”

“Have you ever seen a Pitbull music video?”

 “Maybe once.”

 “So that mixed with molly, coke, and whatever they have on hand.” I turned to her and noticed the frown between her eyebrows. “Hey, you’ll be great tonight, everyone’s gonna love you.”

 “Not if Jordan’s a part of it,” Marie scoffed.

 Of course, Andre did not tell her about who was coming on this night out.

 “Try not to worry about them. This could be a chance for you two to get to know each other better,” I tried.

  Marie stopped and looked at me. “They’re coming tonight?”

 “Yeah, they are number two.”

  Marie groaned. “They better not ruin my night.”

 “It’s okay, Andre already likes you, Cate and Luke will like you too, and you have me,” I said, extending an arm.

  Marie glanced at it for a moment before looping her arm through mine and we continued our walk. It was a nice, peaceful silence between us and I did not know whether I wanted to break it or relish it. At home, there was no such thing as peaceful silence; just the calm before all the cursing.

  “Hey, Y/N,” Marie started.

   I hummed in response.

  “What’s your deal with Jordan?”

  “We’re…friends, I think. Last year, I didn’t want to go near them for the longest time, but Cate invited me to train with all of them once. After that, they were nicer to me.”

   Marie nodded. “You seemed really comfortable with them.”

   “It’s really fun to mess with them.”

   Marie looked at me as if I was crazy and I grinned in response. Jordan was always wound up and they could not always rely on drugs to decompress. I could not pinpoint when I started being more playful with them since it sort of started out of nowhere. At least they were receptive.

   “Your heartbeat’s picking up,” Marie shared.

   I exhaled, “I always get anxious before social stuff, even if I know everyone who will be there.”

  “That sucks. How do you deal with it?”

   “Alcohol, when it’s available, and dancing. My mom thought dance lessons would help me build more confidence than therapy. Plus, it’s basically guaranteed to be acceptable in any setting.”

   After a few more minutes, we finally reached the parking lot and I ignored the chill on my back as we approached Luke, Cate, Andre, and Jordan. They were all standing around Luke’s car, but Jordan and Cate were passing a joint while Luke and Andre were laughing. Andre was the first to notice us and grinned.

  “Hey, you made it,” Andre greeted.

  “Yeah, Y/N is a great guide,” Marie complimented.

  Cate smiled and handed the joint back to Jordan before walking over and hugging me. “It’s been too long since I’ve seen you. You look all grown up now.”

 “It’s been three months, Cate,” I laughed as I slowly pulled away from her. “I love the corset.”

 “Thanks, nice earrings,” she replied.

  “Y/N, are you trying to steal my girlfriend?” Luke teased as he approached us.

  I shook my head and couldn’t help the stupid grin that worked its way on my face. “I would never think about it.”

  His hug was a lot stronger than Cate’s, which made sense considering his ability. Despite his status, Luke was always nice to everyone, including Cate’s little mentee.

  Andre made quick work of introducing Marie to everyone and I stiffened when he got to Jordan. “Have you met Jordan?”

  Jordan narrowed his eyes at Marie. “Yeah, we’ve met.”

  “Are you going to reject me from this outing too?” she shot back.

  “Love too.”

  I wandered over to Jordan and put my hand on his shoulder. “Please play nice.”

 “I can’t promise anything,” he muttered.

 “Well, I like both of you and hope you can get along for a couple of hours.” I turned to Marie, mustering the best puppy eyes I could, and she smiled softly.

  “Fine with me.”

  Jordan rolled his eyes, agreed, and took another hit from the joint. He smirked as he extended it towards me. “What do you say, freshie?”

  “I am a year younger than you!” I griped.

  “And you’ll always be my little freshman,” he teased.

   “Anyway, a Si Chi girl would never be caught smoking or vaping.”

 “And you’re a good little Si Chi girl.”

 “I’m the secretary!”

 “As much as I hate to interrupt this,” Andre interjected, “I’d like to get the night started.”

 “How are we all gonna fit?” Marie asked as we made our way to the car.

 “We’ll make it work,” Luke replied as he slid into the front seat.

  Obviously, Cate took the front passenger seat, leaving Jordan, Andre, Marie, and me in the back. Jordan climbed in first, I followed him, Marie followed me, and Andre squeezed in last. I glanced at Marie and began pushing myself to sit on her lap when a strong arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me in the other direction. Seconds later, I glanced down at Jordan who eyed me expectantly.

 “Why do you look so surprised?” he teased.

 “I just thought it’d be easier if Marie and I were together,” I stated as Luke pulled out of the parking lot.

  Jordan took his time rolling down the window. Then, he took a hit and exhaled the smoke out of it. “Someone has to keep an eye on you.”

 Another shiver ran up my spine and I turned away from Jordan in time for Cate to hand me her phone, which was connected to the aux cord. As soon as I saw “Get Ur Freak On”, I hit play and handed the phone back to her.

 “Nice choice,” Andre complimented before taking a swig from his flask and handing it to me.

 I accepted the flask. “Thank you.”

 The familiar burn down my throat was almost comforting but that also could have been due to the top-shelf whiskey in the flask. When I sat up, I noticed Marie eyeing the flask in my hand curiously.

  “Want some?” I asked.

  “No, thank you,” Marie kindly rejected.

  “Did you just fail to corrupt a freshman?” Jordan rasped in my ear.  

  Reflexively, I swatted Jordan’s shoulder and assured Marie she did not have to do anything she didn’t want to. Fortunately, Andre’s whiskey helped dissolve the tension between the two, or maybe it was just my perception.

   Before I knew it, Cate wiped the host at an exclusive club downtown to give us a booth and as much champagne as we wanted. The place was as crowded as it was in my mind, filled with people, the strobe lights catching the occasional sequin or shiny suit. The music was so loud that it was hard to recognize the songs but I felt like my brain was swimming either way. When we got to our booth, Cate, Andre, and Luke sat on one side while I sat in between Marie and Jordan on the other.

   Seconds after we sat, a hostess in a tiny bandage dress set bottles of champagne and crystal flutes on our table.

  “I love your eyeliner,” I complimented as she began to walk away.

  She thanked me before disappearing into the crowd and Luke laughed.

  “How are you already drunk?” Luke asked.

  “I’m not, I’m just nice.” My argument probably would have been better if I didn’t trip over the “c”.

  “You did drink half of my flask, Y/N,” Andre pointed out.

  I opened my mouth in shock. “Well, it’s not my fault that these two,” I gestured to Cate and Jordan, “didn’t contribute.”

 Luke and Andre busted out laughing while Cate slowly rolled her eyes.

 “Leave her alone, Y/N needs to let loose,” Cate interrupted.

 “Thank you.”

  Luke must have gotten over his earlier comment since he poured three flutes of champagne and handed me one. Immediately I started sipping and giggled as the bubbles burst in my mouth. There must have been something in the air but I felt so light, like I would float away at any second.

   “Is that coke?” Marie’s voice dragged me back to the group.

   In that second, I noticed Cate hand a baggie of powder to Jordan and saw her eyes were slightly red.

    Jordan shook his head. “We did all the coke. This is molly.”

   Marie’s eyes widened and she glanced at me.

  “I can’t do uppers, messes with my powers,” I explained.

  “And we do not want a repeat of New Year’s,” Cate added.

  I bristled at the foggy memory.

  Luke leaned towards Marie. “I don’t really do hard drugs but I microdose shrooms.” He flicked the baggie for emphasis.

   Marie shook her head and smiled. “No, thanks.”

  “Aw, she’s so polite,” Jordan mocked.

  I finished my drink and pushed the flute towards Luke. “Leave her alone, she doesn’t have to do anything she doesn’t want to.”

  The last thing I wanted was for Marie to feel pressured into doing anything with them and me by extension. However, she was comfortable enough to drink and even showed off her powers a little bit. We were all in awe when Marie made a droplet of blood from a pinprick on her finger float into a tiny ball before disappearing back into her finger.

  “That’s badass,” Andre declared with a nod as he sipped some champagne.

  “Not bad, Moreau,” Luke added.

   Cate nodded her approval before doing some more molly while Jordan stared at Marie.

   “Come on, you can say it,” I fake encouraged.

   “Fine, she’s decent,” Jordan admitted.

   I leaned my head towards him. “See, that wasn’t so hard.”

   Jordan gently swatted me away and I laughed as I finished off my glass of champagne. Things were already going better than I expected. The night got even better when “American Boy” blared through the speakers.

   Immediately, I yelped as I jumped to my feet, Cate quickly joining with a mischievous smile on her face.  

   “We’ll be out there,” Cate said, gesturing to the dance floor.

    Luke quickly pecked her lips. “Have fun.”

   As I passed Marie, I grabbed her hand. “Come on.”

  She looked a little apprehensive but grinned as she followed me onto the dancefloor. It was warm and there were so many people to push past but it didn’t matter. The beat was infectious as I began to spin, arms above my head. My braids flowed around me as I tossed my head from side to side. In the middle of a spin, I felt a gloved hand grab one of my arms and pull me towards someone.

  When I opened my eyes, Cate’s big blue ones were staring back at me. Red rimmed her irises and her hands moved to my hips. We moved in time together and I couldn’t stop laughing as we did.

  “You’re welcome for saving you from that creep dancing behind you,” she yelled over the music.

  “You will always be my hero,” I gushed.

  She spun me and I giggled as I faced Marie. Marie was swaying to the music, eyes closed, but she looked blissful. My hands found hers and I pulled her to dance with me. She was not a bad dancer at all but I took the lead, swiveling my hips and bobbing my head. At one point, I wrapped my arms around her neck and hugged her.  Slowly, her arms wrapped around my waist, and I hummed at the warmth.

  Cate leaned over me. “Sorry, she’s an affectionate drunk.”

  I gasped but did not move. “I am not drunk!”

  “It’s okay,” Marie laughed.

  “Seriously, I’m not even tipsy,” I added. “I can move if you want, though.”

  “No, it’s fine.”

  The pit of my stomach suddenly felt warm and fuzzy as I danced with my two friends. I closed my eyes and giggled as the champagne bubbles carried my thoughts away. Was this what it was like not to think all the time?

  “Jordan can’t take his eyes off you.” Cate’s whisper jolted me out of my reverie and I pulled away from Marie.

  “What?” I uttered.

  Cate gave me a weird look and nodded her head towards the table. My eyes wandered in that direction and Jordan was staring back at me. Andre was the only one besides him at the table and he was busy flirting with the hostess but Jordan did not look at them. His eyes were like a hawk’s and I felt like a little mouse.

  “They’re watching us dance, it’s fine!” I shouted over the music.

  Cate shook her head. “He’s not looking at all of us.”

   As much as I enjoyed dancing to the next five songs, I could not get Cate’s words out of my head. This was supposed to be my night not to think about anything, but I could feel the rumination looming.

  But there’s nothing to think about. We’re just friends if we’re anything at all and Cate’s been on this since I joined the group, I thought, squashing any others.

  Once “Like That” ended, I let Marie and Cate know I was going to take a break before making my way back to the booth and plopping down next to Jordan.

  “Having fun?” I panted.

  “Yeah, but not as much as you,” he replied.

  “You should join us next time.” I huffed as I flipped my braids over one shoulder and sat up. “Where’re the others?”

  “Luke went off somewhere and Andre is making some girls suffer through his coin trick.”  

  “And you don’t have anyone you like?”

  I thought Jordan paused but he shook his head. “No, but you’ve been entertaining me.”

  Something jolted in my chest like I’d been shocked. I had another sip of champagne to get rid of the feeling and Jordan’s silver rings caught my eyes. Slowly, my fingers slipped over the ones on his middle and right ring fingers.

  “These are pretty,” I mused.

  “Thanks.”

  As my fingers continued slipping over the rings, he moved so that we were holding hands and a chuckle escaped me.

  Jordan’s eyes widened. “What?”

  “You have man hands,” I chortled.

 “Seriously, freshie?” Jordan sighed.

 “It’s true!”

  I couldn’t stop laughing at how his hand engulfed mine, but it was comforting in a way too. It took me a minute to calm down and when I did, my eyes found Marie and Cate on the dancefloor.

  “I’m glad she came tonight,” I said.

  “Yeah, she’s really nice,” he agreed.

  “See, not all strangers are horrible.”  

  “Okay, you were right.”

  I gasped and put my free hand on my chest. “I must be really drunk because you just admitted I was right about something.”

  “Don’t make a big deal out of it,” Jordan groaned.

  “I should’ve been recording because no one will ever believe that Jordan Li admitted they were wrong about something,” I cheered.

  Jordan shook his head. “Don’t let it get to your head.”

  “It’s already there.”

  I didn’t know how long I sat there, laughing and watching Marie and Cate dance. There was something fascinating about seeing Marie in the element and getting along with everyone. She seemed so…free but it was so genuine. How did she manage that?

  “Do you like her?” Jordan asked.

  I blinked and looked back at him. “Huh?”

 “Don’t play dumb. You’ve been flirting with her all night.”  “I have not! I’m being welcoming.”

  “Really, because I’ve never seen you look at anyone like you do with her.”

  “Are you jealous that I’m getting along with someone else?”

  “Why would I be jealous? You’re not going anywhere.”

  Something was off about his tone but I couldn’t put a finger on it. Why would Jordan say that? Marie was my friend and I’ve been treating her like a friend. Why would they care how I acted anyway?

  “I’m thirsty,” I declared.

 “You want me to get you water?”

 I shook my head. “I need Casamigos.”

 Jordan smiled widely. “You sure?”

 “Mmhmm.”

 Jordan stood, pulled me to my feet, and started leading me to the bar. Halfway there, they shifted into their feminine form, becoming even more adept at navigating the crowds. Once we got to the bar, she got the attention of the bartender and ordered the shots. At some point, I started bouncing on my heels as we waited.

 “Hi, Barbie,” a gruff voice sounded behind me.

 I jumped, nearly running into the bar. The man was tall and his mustard yellow suit washed out his pale skin and blonde hair. His smile was all wrong and made my stomach churn.

 “Um, hi, Planters Guy?”

 Jordan burst out laughing next to me, making the man glare at her for a second. She waved her hand in apology and turned towards the bar.

 “It’s Michael, actually, can I get your name?” he stepped closer to me.

 I opened my mouth to respond but Jordan answered.

 “She’s with me.” Her hand slowly slid to the small of my back and pulled me into her side.

 “What if I bought you a drink?” Michael offered.

 I glanced at Jordan. “Well, I guess that’s alright.”

 Jordan rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

The bartender set two trays of shots in front of us and Jordan and I each grabbed one and turned to Michael.

“Thanks for the drinks!”

 Once we got far away enough for him to hear, I burst out laughing and tried not to spill anything.

 “Works every time,” Jordan stated.

 “What am I gonna do when you graduate next year?” I mused.

 “Aw, are you gonna miss me?”

 “I’ll miss how easy it is to get free drinks with you.”

 My face warmed and I ignored the warmth in my stomach. Andre was waiting for us back at the table.

  “Jordan, why’d you change?” Andre asked curiously.

 “Makes it easier to get free drinks,” she answered.

 I plucked a shot from a tray and leaned on Jordan’s shoulder. “I appreciate them in both forms.”

 Jordan seemed to tense under the contact, and I leaned back up, wondering if I’d done something wrong. If I had, she did not act like it as she grabbed a shot and made Andre grab one.

 “Cheers to another year?” Andre suggested.

 “The year Y/N breaks into the Top Fifteen?” Jordan joked, raising an eyebrow.

 I grinned. “Who knows, maybe this is the year I take your spot.”

 “Ooh, bold, Y/N, I like it,” Andre cheered.

 “I’d be more scared if your punches didn’t feel like a kitten pawing at me.”

 “Just cheers!”

  She laughed as the three of us clinked glasses and did the shots. The tequila was smooth as it ran down my throat and I was practically buzzing as I went for the second one.

  “Whoa, are you sure you don’t want to slow down?” Jordan asked.

  “It’s fine, I ate before we went out, I’m not even tipsy,” I insisted.

  Around the third shot, Andre disappeared and by the fifth, everything was blurry, like one of my visions. I think I pouted at the thought.

  Then, the starting chords of “Standing Next to You” filled my ears and my body moved on its own, jumping to my feet.

  “Oh my gosh, they’re playing Jungkook, we have to dance!” I yelled.

 “Okay, calm down,” she said, setting down her glass and letting me pull her onto the dancefloor.

  My body kept moving on its own, body rolling and feet shimmying. The song was entrancing and I was lost in it, singing as well as I could. Jordan spun me a couple of times before pulling me closer and I laughed as I wrapped my arms around her neck.

   I couldn’t remember the last time I was this close to Jordan. She had such pretty features but her eyes were amazing, like molten pools of dark chocolate.

  “Thanks.”

  I gasped and clamped my hand over my mouth. “Oh my gosh.”

  “It’s cute, you like my eyes?”

  “Stoooop,” I whined.

  “Oh no, I’m never letting this go,” she teased.

  In that moment, I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole, but I did not get what I wanted. Instead, Jordan’s hands pulled me flush against them, fingers tapping against my hips.

  “Come on, you were so bold a second ago,” she whispered.

  “That was different,” I muttered.

  “But I want to know what else my little freshman likes about me.”

   Their mocking tone made my body heat rise and I did not know how to stop it. Even in their feminine form, Jordan was stronger than me and it would take a lot of effort to get out of their grip.

 “I’m not a freshman.”

 Suddenly, we stopped moving while everyone else around us was making out or dancing. Somehow, no one bumped into us and I wondered if there was some sort of invisible field blocking it from happening. My eyes wandered away from Jordan, glancing at the colorful lights and feathers on someone’s dress. That did not last long as I felt her soft fingers move a braid away from my face.

    I could hear my heartbeat in my ears as I turned back to her. Jordan seemed so soft as her hand trailed behind my ear before finally resting on my shoulder. Any words I could have said dried up on my tongue and I couldn’t think as our faces got closer to each other.

   Her woodsy cologne filled my senses, and I wondered what she could sense. Just as I closed my eyes, a terrifying scream broke through the crowd. When I opened my eyes, everything was a blur. At one moment, Jordan was in their masculine form and tugging me through the crowd. In the next, Andre was pushing me back into Luke’s car.

  Jordan, Andre, and Luke were yelling or talking but I couldn’t understand any of it. Cate seemed panicked in the front, but I had no idea what she was saying.

  “Where’s Marie?” I asked.

  Darkness overtook everything before anyone answered my question.

 The throbbing in my temples the next morning made me want to strangle George Clooney. My head weighed a thousand pounds, and it took even more effort to push myself up in bed. Thankfully, the curtains were drawn on my windows and only some rays of sunlight peaked through.

  When I was finally able to open my eyes, I noticed the bottle of Vought Water on my dresser and two aspirin. It was too early to ask any questions and I took the medicine and almost cried at the relief. Then, I did my best to walk to the bathroom without aggravating my spinning head.

  As soon as I turned on the light, I noticed the red and black jacket around my shoulders and gasped.

  This was Jordan’s.

  If they brought me home how messed up was I? I groaned at the thought and carefully hung the jacket on the hook on my door.

  My morning routine was plagued by all the possibilities from last night and what I’d said. I remembered vaguely gushing over Jordan’s eyes and dancing with Marie and Cate and…

   Almost kissing Jordan.

  How was I going to live that down? What had even come over me? It had to be the tequila and champagne. Thanks to that combination, Jordan was going to have material to tease me for at least a few months.

  After pulling on a baby blue short-sleeved fuzzy crop top and matching linen shorts, I slipped on my white Stan Smiths and went downstairs for breakfast. Per usual, it was buffet style with an option of fresh fruits, turkey bacon, steel-cut oatmeal, or toast. Sydney, Alina, and Sasha were the only ones in the dining room, all wearing matching Alo Yoga sets.

  I took the seat next to Sasha and forced myself to eat the oatmeal. “Good morning, everyone.”

 “Good morning, Y/N,” they all replied.

  “How was your night?” I asked Alina.

  “Fun,” she replied.

  “But not nearly as fun as yours,” Sasha commented.

  I stiffened and tried to cover it up with a sip of coffee. “What makes you say that?”

 “For one thing, you’re not ready to join us for Ashtanga yoga. Second, Jordan Li had to walk you to your room.” Sasha emphasized Jordan’s name with the biggest Cheshire cat grin on her face.

  “I’m glad you have such a good friend,” Sydney expressed, flicking a curly strawberry blonde hair out of her green eyes. “You always need those when Si Chi sisters can’t attend the same events.”

  “Thanks, I’m glad they’re my friend too.” I smiled as kindly as I could without side eyeing Sasha.

  Fifteen seconds passed before Alina broke the silence.

 “Did you hear what happened with that freshman last night?” she asked.

 Sasha groaned. “It’s been all over my timeline.”

 I frowned. “What happened?”

 “This freshman got caught off campus at a club,” Alina said as though it was the greatest gossip known to man.

  “Didn’t she save someone’s life, though? They had some kind of accident?” Sydney added as she popped a grape in her mouth.

  In that moment, the caffeine must have hit my brain because I almost yelped at the realization. We’d left Marie at the club last night, I had abandoned her. I grabbed my phone from my bag and started texting Emma.

 Y/N: Hey, did Marie make it back last night? Lost track of her.

 Emma responded back pretty quickly.

E: Yeah. She got a weird email from school. Ohw to Lamplighter.

My stomach churned and I willed myself to settle it. For a second, I closed my eyes and focused on Marie, but I couldn’t get a clear image of her.

 “Shit,” I muttered.

 Alina, Sasha, and Sydney turned to me, microbladed brows raised.

 “I’m sorry, I just realized that I forgot to read a chapter for a class today.”

   The girls may have said something as I quickly finished my breakfast and left the dining room, but I couldn’t hear them over my racing thoughts. Twenty minutes later, I was walking into the Crimefighting building with two iced coffees from Jitterbean in my hands and Jordan’s jacket slung over one of my arms.

  There were only a couple of people milling about the people, professors making final touches on lectures, and students cramming. I paid none of them any mind as I came across a sulking Jordan. They were in their feminine form and if they were hungover, they did not look like it.

  “Hi,” I greeted once we got close.

  “Hey,” she replied.

  “Um, I brought you coffee and your jacket as a thank you for last night. I heard you had to take me home and I’m sorry about that.”

  I handed her both items and she nodded. “It’s fine but you do owe me.”

  Her tone wasn’t as light as usual. Even when they were hungover, Jordan never missed an opportunity to go back and forth. This had to be about that almost kiss. As much as I wanted to avoid it, I had no choice.

  “About that, uh, kiss,” I whispered.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Jordan affirmed.

  “Are you sure? Because----”

  “Seriously, it’s fine, we were drunk, well, you were wasted but it’s okay.”

 They did not sound nor look “okay” and they spoke as if they wanted me to drop it as soon as possible. Earlier, I wanted to erase it from my memory but their response made me want to shrink into a corner. Why did I even care? It’s one issue resolved.

  “Okay,” I said slowly. “Anyway, have you seen Marie today? I can’t get in touch with her.”

  “No, I wouldn’t worry about it.”

  “Telling me not to worry doesn’t make it go away. I feel bad about leaving her last night.”

  Jordan glanced around us before pulling me off to the side. “You should’ve told her the risks before having her join us. You know none of us can get caught breaking the rules,” she hissed.

  “I didn’t think abandoning her would be a possibility,” I muttered.

  “She’ll be fine. You should know to look out for yourself by now, freshie.”

  For a moment, I narrowed my eyes at Jordan, who was suddenly more focused than they’d been since we started talking. They had a point, they and the rest of the Top Five always covered themselves but that typically never meant someone got hurt.

  “Would you have done the same thing if it were me instead of Marie?” I asked.

   Jordan flinched and her silence was all the answer I needed. Tears threatened to burn in the corner of my eyes, but I turned before she could see them. I thought I heard her say something and I mumbled about seeing her in class later. Just as I was about to make my way out of the building, Marie flew in, eyes flaring.

   “Did you know about this?” she questioned.

   “About what?” I asked.

   “They’re expelling me to cover up for you.” She looked behind me. “And you.”

   “Wait, what?” Jordan replied.

   “That doesn’t make any sense. You didn’t do anything wrong,” I gently argued.

   “Well, I guess I did because I thought you were different from them.”

   Her cold words felt worse than the time a girl with ice powers caught me in the shoulder during a training session. For a second, I couldn’t speak, and I thought I heard buzzing in my ears. Nothing was going the way I thought or envisioned it would. What was the point of having these powers if I couldn’t help my friends or figure out who were fake friends?  

   “Marie,” I started.

    She pushed past me and Jordan, storming towards Brink’s office. As I turned around to go back to my room and lick my wounds, a vision flashed in my head.

   Bright yellow flames covered Luke’s body and he had a murderous look in his eye as he approached someone. The perspective switched to a frightened Marie stumbling out of Brink’s office with Luke trailing behind her, his flames growing larger and more sporadic. Then, Jordan appeared.

   As soon as it appeared, it left and I had a sinking feeling in my chest as I whirled around.

   “MARIE, DON’T!”

A very Jordan Li thing to do, real cock or strap, we don't really care, it'd be just as hot in both forms.

him holding his cock against my tummy to show me how deep he will push it

Reading all of those again to cure my mental slump

Imagine Jordan not telling you anything and instead wrapping you in their arms, and you finally feel safe and cared and loved and they never judge you and you can tell them about anything and you know they would never make you feel like you are annoying or a burden.

And they run their hands through your hair and don't tell you to stop crying, they just let you let it all out and they never force you to speak if you don't want to

And they are very protective so if anyone is giving you problems they will take care of them and they feel like home and and and...

im going to become to sick with longing I'll be bedridden. tucking you under their chin, arms wrapped around you to keep you close. trying to fully cocoon you in their embrace because jordan is so protective they don't want any part of you not touching them or facing the outside world.

sick and unwell at the thought of their hand running through your hair, they know all your weak spots like how you loose all function of your limbs and melt when they rub behind your ear like you're a cat.

i feel like you could become so dependent on them but its not a bad thing, because they glow at the notion of being your protector and you feeling safe with them. makes their heart happy that you seek them to feel calm and at peace, always slightly ahead of you when you walk, a hand at your waist protectively to guide you along, always making sure you're on the inside of the sidewalk. that kind of thing.

they become so synonymous with home and comfort you could be feeling anxious and just the scent of their cologne or perfume before they even come into view is enough to settle your nerves and have you smiling. god, i am going to bite off my fingers.

Hear me out, please. Gen v but Danganronpa AU.

I can definitely see some sort of rivalry between Jordan and Luke because Luke is the ultime super hero and Jordan's not, but they want the role so bad. Like Emma being the ultime performer, Cate being the ultime manipulator, Marie being the ultime doctor...

Yeah it's OOC a bit, but I can feel it, Luke being killed first, and everyone but Marie thinks is Jordan, so they form a team with Emma to find out the truth, letting Sam Cate and Andre to try to find proof of Jordan's culpability.

I can feel the romance, another murder (Maybe 12 to 16 students in the game, IDK who right now though), and this time everyone suspects Marie, but it can't be because she was with Jordan all night.

Everything pushing the both of them to team up, so much so that the both of them end up naturally teaming all the time.

Who would the instigator be ? I'd say Cate, but it's fucking predictable.

If we want it be angst, we could make it Jordan, or Marie, and make everything one sided or just downright obsessive on one side.

Anyway, I'm gonna write that some time, it goes to my drafts, but it's gonna take some time, if someone wants to write it, please tag me !

Would someone read it if I wrote a fanfic about this plot ?

rich!fuckboy jordan living in my mind making itself at home getting cozy.... sm abt the arrogance,,, knowing they can buy your time, cute little thing that you are. they've bought their way to the top, one of the most notorious younger supes out there, they dont need to buy pussy. but you play hard to get, and they're not used to that - nothing has been hard for them in awhile. not since freshman year of college, when they'd inherited their dads company and drowned themselves in praise and cash, leaving everyone who told them they'd never amount to anything as background noise.

you're not background noise though. voice as clear and sharp as a knife when you tell them, "no, thank you." when they offer you a drink. walking away from them like you dont care who they are. something about it stirs something awake in jordan. has them tapping their fingers on the bartop as they watch you leave, eyes glued to your ass. they haven't had to face rejection in years. a little girl from fuckall nowhere thinking she can turn jordan li down?

game on from then on out. because they'd seen the look of heat in your eyes when they'd sidled up. acting like you can't be bought because you have morals makes them want to fucking laugh. they'll have your pussy strangling their dick - and their strap too, by the end of the week.

Lying down on the bed, you're half listening to the litany of praise and pure filth coming out of Jordan's mouth non-stop.

How could you pay attention when she has two fingers attacking your G-spot with a concerning precision ? They've been at it for a while now, getting you so close and stopping right when you're about to come. And there she is with her condescending smile, nodding sweetly "I know, baby, I know. It feels so good you can't take it ?" their head cocks to the side and she adds "But you asked for it, asked for me to overwhelm your little pussy until you can' think anymore... Do you know why ?" the question is asked through clenched teeth.

Her movements speed up and she adds pressure to your clit, her left hand forcing your stuttering hips to stay still on the mattress. You think you might die from the way they've been at it for an hour now.

And then suddenly they take their fingers out and you really cry over the lack of stimulation as you were so close once again.

Jordan lands a slap to your core and you let out a wounded little whimper. "Answer the question baby, or you won't get to come at all."

It takes some time before you're even able to remember the question, but when you do, you answer with a little voice. "You're doing this because I haven't been taking care of myself properly. And I've been overthinking too much."

"That wasn't so hard now, was it ? You need to take care of yourself, baby. Or daddy won't make you come. You just need someone to wear you out so your little brain can finally sleep correctly. I can do that." she adds, her eyebrows raising as she looks up at your tear streaked face begging her to let you finish.

You might have a chance to make her fold right now if you play correctly. You pout a bit, doe eyes in full force "Please daddy, I'm so sorry, please let me come, I want it so bad."

They crack, obviously, they could never handle the doe eyes with the begging. Her hand goes back to your cunt and she asks while rubbing your clit excruciatingly slow "And you'll take care of yourself ? Drink and sleep and eat ? Stop being so stressed over things you can't even do anything about ?" you nod fervently "Yes ! Yes yes yes I swear it ! Please..."

Jordan smiles proudly kissing your thigh "good girl". Then her mouth is on you, fingers back in your cunt fingering you fast and efficient as she sucks your clit into her mouth and you can't help but moan loudly, fisting the bed sheets in your hands. You try to close your legs instinctively but Jordan's strong shoulders keep them open, leaving you forced to take it, the pressure building up and up and up-

"That's it, good girl, good fucking girl" she says as she drinks up your release while you ride out your orgasm on her fingers. Little moans and whimpers coming out of your mouth.

When you come back from your high, you kiss you partner, who then looks at you with a gentle gaze "You need to take proper care of yourself, baby. The finals are in two weeks, and you studied like a mad woman already, you can't pull all-nighters every nights, alright ?".

You nod as you press yourself closer to them, cuddling on the bed with your head in her neck, inhaling your partner's scent. You listen to their heartbeat as they switch to their male form, strong arms holding you close. "I love you Jordan."

"I love you too" You hear him answer as you fall asleep, for the most peaceful slumber you've had in a long time.

I mean you've got your own super hero to take care of you during your sleep, how could you not sleep ?

_________________________________________

A 'gentle' reminder to take care or yourselves !! Drink water and eat at least two times a day !

❤️❤️

Also Jordan's wearing this because I said so and also, yeah I fucking love that shirt on them, byyyye

I'm starting to slowly dehydrate because of the lack of Jordan fics to dissociate and maladaptive dream about...

So next week when my finals are over, I'll write one.

I have actually a lot of plots stored if someone wants to hear about it, you can ! I'll give the plots !

Studying makes me wanna die right now... Please if someone's got a fic to drop, do it quickly 😭😭😭😭

Wash Day

pairing:  jordan li x fem black!reader

"You wanna go out to dinner tonight? Know I've been busy this week. Feel like I've barely seen you." Jordan mutters against the shell of your ear. You shiver as he gives the skin a teasing kiss.

Already you're pouting, knowing what your answer has to be even though you wish so desperately that you could give a different response. "Wish I could, Jordan. But my night is already spoken for."

You're spun around by a hand on your hip, playful and fast so that you can't stop yourself from falling into his chest. Your hands grip his jacket for balance, and he reaches up to hold one of them with his own. "You got plans? With who? Cate? Cancel them."

"Brat." You laugh.

How demanding Jordan is would be less cute if they ever asked you to do something they themselves wouldn't. As it stands, with the way they do anything you ask at the drop of a hat, all you can do is roll your eyes and pretend to be exasperated instead of smitten.

"Fine, don't cancel. I'll just come with." Jordan sighs, as if seeing his best friend is a great tragedy (Which it is. Cate being there means you'll smack Jordan's hand away when he tries to sneak it up your skirt at dinner.)

"What if we want a girls' night?" You shoot back, grinning.

Jordan shifts. The hands on your waist are smaller now, but pull you in closer, "You're the one who's feeling bratty. Really have been neglecting you this week, huh baby?" Jordan smirks, in that condescending way she does when she realizes you're trying to get a certain reaction out of her.

"The plans aren't with Cate, and they aren't cancellable." You sigh, deciding not to rise to the bait of her tone, smirk, or the little circles she's rubbing into your skin.

"What are these oh so important plans?" Jordan asks.

"Do you know how many white boys have complimented my hair today, Jordan?" You ask.

"Pardon?" Jordan blinks at what seems to be a completely unrelated topic.

"Six! Six white boys complimented my braids today. I'm about to kill myself, if we're being honest. I must looked fucked up, and you didn't even say anything." You pout.

You've been having a bit of a rough day, to say the least.

"You look beautiful. What are you talking about?" Jordan asks, confused but nonetheless, wanting to make you feel better. "If you didn't look good I'd very politely... have Cate tell you. But you look great! You've been getting compliments all day, you just said it yourself!"

"Wow, you'd throw Cate under the bus, huh coward?"

"Cate isn't interested in making out with you every spare second of the day. I am. You can be mad at her. I've got stuff I wanna do." Jordan's grin is downright salacious. You smack her arm, trying not to smile.

"Ah. You are operating under the same delusions of the white man. I see that now, I'll let go of the anger." You say, sighing and kissing Jordan on the cheek.

"First of all, don't you ever fucking insult me like that again.... Second of all, what particular delusion am I sharing with the white man?" Jordan asks.

"White men only compliment a black woman's hairstyle at two points in time. When it's brand spanking, fresh off the lot new. Or when it's started to look like shit. I've had these braids in for longer than... is your business. So guess which compliment I'm getting right now?"

"I fucking refuse to say your hair looks like shit, and this conversation feels like a trap. You're always beautiful to me." Jordan says.

"Thank you, baby. But we live on a campus where the diversity win photographers lurk around every corner trying to get pictures of 'The Diversity Win Couple' in our most natural state. I need to take out my braids tonight before I talk crazy in the group chat, and Andre sends me a 'this you?' pic that will devastate my argument." You shake your head somberly, already imagining the fate that lies before you.

"You could stop talking crazy in the group chat." Jordan teases.

"You know damn well I'm not capable of that."

The two of you burst into laughter, unable to keep it together. Jordan has always been obsessed with how easy it is for you to make them laugh.

"Is that gonna take up your whole night, though, baby? We don't have to go to dinner early! We'll go wherever you want." Jordan insists, tone bordering on begging.

Whenever they come out of a particularly busy week, they spend the next two weeks glued to you. As if to make up for it. The clinginess is a stark difference from how they acted before you made things official.

"Jordan, look at the braids on my head."

"I'm looking at them."

"Are you seeing them with your eyes?"

"Yes, and my eyes are sending the image to my brain, which I assure you is working. What's your point here, baby?"

"How long do you think it will take me to undo these, detangle my hair, wash it, deep condition it, and then wash it again?"

Jordan squints at you for a long moment, analyzing your hairstyle and the utter displeasure on your face. "I dunno? Maybe... four hours?"

"I should fucking murder you. Just for that, you're helping me with wash day now."

Jordan's face breaks into a grin like sunlight breaking through clouds, "So I do get to spend the day with you, is what you're saying?"

"Yeah, baby, you get to spend the day with me." You click your tongue at them. Pitying them for the ache in their fingers they're about to feel. They complain about curling their God damn hair a couple of times a week. You suspect you'll be ready to kill one another by hour two.

But you also missed them a lot. Or whatever.

"Don't cut too high up, Jordie. " You whine, shifting his grip lower on your braid, to an acceptable cutting length of the hair extension.

"Baby... can I ask you a very serious question right now?" Jordan hums, obediently cutting where you instructed.

"What?" You ask, already starting to unbraid the piece.

"How... long... do you think your hair is?" Jordan, to be fair to him, does ask the question quietly and with the proper amount of hesitation.

"How dare you! Are you calling me bald?" You gasp, stifling a laugh.

"Don't do this to me. You are prolonging the process. We can cut these braids at least four inches higher than what we're doing right now." Jordan says, you can't see his face but you can tell he's also trying not to laugh. Bastard.

"My hair grew!"

"From the top of your head. It did not magically lower itself further into the fucking braid extension." Jordan loses the battle and laughs.

"Jordan Li do not fucking cut off any of my hair or I'll cry and then blow up this school."

"Of course, princess." Jordan kisses the top of your head and gives in to your terrorist demands because you're cute.

"So how am I supposed to do it, baby?" Jordan claps her hands and you smile at how eager she sounds to help.

"You're gonna want to section it off. Do like... eight parts of hair. That'll make literally every step after this easier. Then you're gonna comb the hair from the bottom, 'kay?"

"Got it."

Jordan starts the process of parting your hair, careful and slow. Fingers sectioning off eight chunks of hair that she keeps apart with the silky hair ties you hand her over your shoulder.

"You sure you don't want me to comb it, Jordie?" You ask Jordan.

"I'll be gentle, don't worry. You always say your shoulders hurt at the end of wash day. Which is crazy, because I've seen what you can bench. I've got you, baby." She spritzes extra detangler spray on each of the parts she just made.

You move around slightly, a little sore already from sitting still between her legs for so long, but smiling to yourself nonetheless. A pillow is suddenly shoved into your face and you lean away, confused.

"Sit on this one instead. It'll be better." Jordan says.

You switch out the pillows and tilt your head back to look at her. "Why're you always right? Is that your kink?"

"No, my kink is bossing you around." Jordan smirks and leans down to give you a kiss. Despite the awkward angle you can't help trying to deepen the contact. The feeling of her soft lips sliding against yours, firm but gentle, is always irresistible.

She hums and gives you a playful nip before pulling away. "Don't start something we can't finish."

"Who says we can't?" You shoot back, staring up at her.

"You will be pissed an hour from now if you glance at your phone and we haven't made any progress." Jordan runs her thumb along your bottom lip before pushing your head forward.

"Who says it will take an hour?"

"I do. If we start, I'm not stopping." Jordan's voice dips seductively and a line of tension runs up the length of your spine.

You smack her thigh for teasing you, "Shut up."

"Is this comfortable?" Jordan frowns, staring at the angle your head has to be at to fit in the bowl of the sink.

"No, but this is the best angle this chair can get me to." You say. Usually you just wash in the shower, but since Jordan is helping the sink makes more sense.

Jordan stands, scowling at how uncomfortable you seem. Suddenly he grins, "Baby! Make a chair with your shields. Something that leans."

You were getting a lot better with being able to make complex shapes, with less concentration. You stand up from the chair you'd dragged from the common room. Jordan pulls it out of the way and gives you an encouraging thumbs up.

It takes you a minute, but you conjure a shield that resembles a salon chair and the both of you let out identical cries of delight.

Jordan pushes you to sit down with a kiss on your forehead. "That's my fucking girl. Tell me if the temperature is too hot."

Jordan washes your hair with the perfect amount of pressure and thoroughness. He's nearly rhythmic in his methodical cleaning. You didn't realize your eyes had fluttered closed until you hear him laugh. You open one eye to glare at him playfully, knowing he won't get soap in them.

"What's so funny?"

"You're like a cat. You gonna purr for me, baby?" He smirks.

"If you keep going like that, yeah. Or I'll fall asleep. Please don't make me fall asleep. I'll fall on my ass." You say.

"I'll endeavor to make the rest of the wash as unpleasant as possible."

He does not do that. And at one point you do fall asleep. Jordan catches you before you can actually fall. 'Thank God for Supe reflexes', you both think. You spend the rest of the wash with your eyes wide open and Jordan laughing at you.

"Did we put too much?" Jordan asks, dabbing at another drip of oil and conditioner down your brow.

"No, this is typical. The hair has to be saturated. It's dripping because the oil is you know... getting hot and even more liquid-y." You say, eyeing the episode of Property Brother's you'd both decided on. "Hm. I think that woman should be put to death."

Jordan was keeping vigilant about dabbing at the sides of your face. You'd been in charge of one side, at first. But Jordan seemed to have a sixth sense for when the other side was dripping as well, and kept interrupting you before you could get to any trickles of oil. You'd given up and just started narrating the show for her as she wasn't taking her eyes off the line of your brow.

"Why? What did she do?" Jordan dabs again.

"She wants to put up a fence that blocks the view of the historical house that she did not have to buy if she wanted a fence so bad." You roll your eyes.

"Is the city gonna let her?"

"No."

"Haha. 500k down the drain." Jordan cackles.

"Anti-gentrification win!" You hold out your fist for a fist-bump and Jordan obediently obliges, oil soaked rag still held in her fist.

A comfortable silence falls over you two, besides the noise of the portable hair dryer.

"I really think we put too much, baby." Jordan mutters, dabbing again.

"I have been doing this since I was twelve, Jordan!"

"Play the video again, one speed slower this time." Jordan's eyes are glued to your phone.

You're sitting between his legs again, cushioned by the (superior) pillow of his choosing. You were trying to decide on a simple hair style when Jordan saw a picture of Mini Twists and got excited to see you in them.

("You've already seen me in mini twists, Jordie. What are you talking about?"

"You weren't my girlfriend the last time you wore them though! Now you are, and I get to look at you as much as I want."

So that had decided that.)

"Okay, I think I got it. 'M gonna start with a braid base, without making the parts too big, then start twisting the hair with two strands, and that will make it last longer, right?"

"Right." You smile at how focused Jordan sounds.

They're hot when they're in the zone. You just didn't think they'd get so into helping you with your hair. But you should have known, really. Acts of service paired with their inner perfectionist? You're completely relaxed at this point. You know Jordan won't have you walking out of your room looking crazy, come hell or high water.

"Is this okay?" Jordan shows you a picture of the back of your head, three rows of twists done.

You gasp, snatching the phone, "That's my head?"

"Uh... yes?" Jordan answers slowly.

"The back of my head? The head on my body?"

"Should I start over?"

"Fuck you! These are almost better than mine. Who's hair are you playing around in when I'm not here, Jordan LI?"

"Stop using my fucking government name." Jordan tilts your head back to look at him with a gentle grip on your neck, grinning down at you. "You play too fucking much. You sure they're good, princess? It's okay if I need to redo them."

"I'm gonna give you orgasms that will make you lose brain cells."

"Baby!" Jordan laughs, rolling his eyes. "I'm serious. Do any of them need redoing?"

"The first row is really fucking good for a beginner but the second row is damn near perfect." You say.

"I'll redo the first row then." Jordan kisses your temple before moving you to face forward again.

"I said they were good!" You protest.

"But the second row is better. I want the whole thing to look good. Don't want you feeling self conscious cause I fucked up the style, y'know." Jordan mumbles.

You tilt your head back to look at him, ignoring him sucking his teeth (a habit he picked up from you) at you moving.

"I love you, Jordie. Thank you for helping me today." You coo.

You watch his face go red with a grin. He grins back, leaning down to give you a gentle kiss. When he tries to pull away too soon you whine, holding him close by the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Wanna kiss you. You're sweet." You breathe the words against his lips, insistently continuing the caress.

He sighs, smitten, and let's you lead for a moment. Hand finding it's way back to your neck and tightening just enough to make you gasp. Still, he pulls away too quickly.

"I'm gonna fuck you up." You scowl at him.

"The only thing you're gonna fuck up is your neck, brat. This is a horrible angle for you." Jordan's smile is so soft at the edges it's your turn to blush.

"Speak for yourself."

"No, I'm too busy speaking on behalf of your neck."

"Well, I'm speaking on behalf of my-"

"Pussy?"

"I was going to say raging hormones but that's a lot more to the point, yeah. Or maybe I was going to say something romantic. You ever think of that, Jordie? Huh?"

"Were you going to say something romantic?" Jordan hums.

"No."

"Let me do your hair in peace." Jordan turns you forward again with a laugh.

"Turn this way." Jordan instructs, snapping another picture.

"I don't know whether you're worse than an Instagram hair stylist or a Mom." You ponder, words barely audible because your girlfriend is scary.

"Shut up and smile." Jordan scowls.

As if engraved into your genetic code the words make you do just that. You suffer through another 20 pictures being taken before you say enough is enough.

Jordan happily shows you the pictures, as if you hadn't seen yourself in the mirror just a minute ago. Or ever. The grin on her face so wide it looks like it hurts.

"You like it, baby?" Jordan asks again.

"It looks so good, Jordie. It looks like I paid someone honestly."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." You drape your arms around her shoulders. "How's this angle?"

"For what?" Jordan tilts her head to the side, puzzled.

"For kissing. Since you were so worried about the angle before."

Jordan scoffs, but she's the one to pull you in. She doesn't pull away this time.

A/N: i needed reader to have a goofball vibe because i have a goofball vibe. if you enjoyed this fic consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anonymous ask saying you enjoyed it! a writers fuel is engagement. xoxoxo

my girl can wear whatever she wants tiers please for crazy ass boys gang!!!

CRAZY ASS BOYS GANG + MY GIRL CAN WEAR WHATEVER SHE WANTS TIERS

❥ my girl can wear whatever she want cause I can fight ❥

Billy Loomis - When you look particularly good his arm might as well be glued to your waist. He's both possessive and protective. He hates the way everyone's eyes devour you, but can't help how prideful it makes him either. Yeah, you want her. Of course you want her. Everyone does. But only I have her. God help the idiot that's stupid enough to open their mouth and not just look.

Jordan Li - They love watching you put your outfits together. They make suggestions from your bed, glancing up at you every few minutes. They can't help it. Their eyes are drawn to you permanently. No matter how crowded the room they can find you in a second. Whenever there's a party Jordan loves watching everyone try to sneak quick glances at you. They jump like rabbits when they wind up meeting Jordan's eyes and watch that smile that Jordan only wears around you fall back into the usual scowl. No one wants to be caught staring at Jordan's girl.

Arvin Russell - It's not possible for you to feel fear in public when you're with Arvin. You could be wearing straight lingerie in the most dangerous city in the world at 2 am and be safe. He's not just ready to protect you but hungry for it. Every time he proves he'll fight till his knuckles are bloody and bruised over you he watches you walk a little more confidently. Shine a little brighter. Knowing that he's there to protect you has only made you more yourself every day. And Arvin? He's obsessed with the transformation that the safety net of his fierce protection has ignited within you.

Jason Dean/JD - You wish he'd only fight people over what you're wearing. Unfortunately, this is not the case. JD pulls out a gun. Not every time, granted. Just a large majority of the time. In his defense, how is he supposed to act when someone has the audacity to cat call you? Do you expect him to just watch and not care as you experience that brief shiver of fear that runs up your spine when a man whistles at you before following it up with even more salacious words? If you feel fear, he'll make them feel fear. Simple.

Sparrow!Ben Hargreeves - If someone is stupid enough to not recognize him before they say anything to you about what you're wearing they will quickly recognize the tentacle wrapped around their throat. "Apologize." He hisses through gritted teeth, increasing the pressure, knowing just how much strength he can use before it would break their neck. How he ever expects anyone to apologize to you with a giant tentacle wrapped around their wind pipe you don't know. This is the second time this month. You're running out of night clubs you're not banned from.

David Mccall - You walk out of the house with the confidence that only someone who's done 12 tours over seas should have. But no, you just have a boyfriend who is incredibly scary. You've watched him almost break a man's hand for brushing it against yours at a crowded bar while he reached for his drink. You don't even think before you throw on an outfit anymore.

❥ my girl can wear whatever she want because she a hoe and I knew that before we started dating ❥

Josh Washington - Could he fuck someone up if needed? Yes, but he feels no need to. As long as you're not in danger or being disrespected Josh loves the way you express yourself through your look. You're hot and beautiful, of course you wear stuff that's short or tight, or both. If he looked like you he'd do the same thing. People don't usually say anything to you anyways, since he's always pressed to you like a second skin. He's not a jealous guy, but he is a chronic clinger.

Stu Macher - Is probably the person wolf whistling you in the first place. Points at you from across the room when you're talking to other people and says, "That's my girl right there. She's smoking, right?" He will always be smug he pulled you and NEVER shut up about it. The more wild you dress the more smug he gets. People can look all they want. But you only want him. What's there not to brag about?

Kevin Khatchadourian - Kevin above anyone else would thoroughly understand your psyche before dating you. He's involved with you because, somehow, you intrigued him against all odds. He already expected and predicted with near perfect accuracy every step of the relationship. Skimpy outfits are not throwing him. Can he fight? Yes. But, frankly, if someone pisses him off by hitting on you swinging on them is not gonna satisfy him. He's more of a "put their fingerprints at a crime scene so their life is ruined" type of get back. If he decides not to kill them.

Sebastian Valmont - Sebastian is the one buying you more hoe clothes. He loves your style and is not insecure. If either of you wanted someone else, you could go get them. But you two were practically made for each other. He wants to show you off. Is never going to be the type to try and dull your shine. He wants to walk into a room with you and have jaws drop from the deadly combination of the way you look together. He thrives off of seeing how much people want you. Knowing how futile it is. How hopeless. He pulls you tight into his side and grins like the devil himself (also, and this knowledge is of utmost importance, he cannot fight for shit.)

❥ my girl can wear whatever she want cus I’m scared of her ❥

Nathan Prescott - Is possessive, jealous and insecure enough to absolutely want you to change what you're wearing. With anyone else he'd even be bold enough to tell them to change. You are not anyone else, though. You are you. Considering every other behavior you tolerate from Nathan on a monthly, weekly, daily, and hourly basis you would snap on him like a twig if he tried to bring one more red flag on board. He knows this. You know this. When you slide on your low rise jeans and the tiniest crop top known to man, you make eye contact with one another in the mirror. He looks away first. You go back to peacefully fixing up your hair. Upside, no one is crazy enough to actually hit on you when you're at parties held on campus together. Which means Nathan won't have the cops called on him. Hooray!

She Likes a Boy (And I’m Not Just a Boy)

pairing:  jordan li x fem!reader

summary: You and Jordan are friends with benefits, and Jordan is trying so hard to be okay with that. Somehow, they still fell in love with you despite their best efforts to not fucking do that. But you've only ever fucked them when they're a guy, so they assume you're only interested in them one way. Just like everyone else. You've never said anything to make them think any different so it's obvious, right? So they take what they can get. Which is only half. And they keep you at a distance, because anything else will kill them.

A/N: flashbacks are in all Italics. some smut.

gif credit: artemidosgifs and stannyramirez

“Oh shit, Jordie, wait-” You can’t catch your breath, legs shaking where they’re thrown over Jordan’s shoulders. 

“Stop fucking squirming.” Jordan huffs, licking some of your wetness off your thigh.

Your vision is swimming a little. How long have you been in this position? Or in Jordan’s room? It’s hard to keep track of anything, when you’re with them. His tongue finds your clit again. Insistent, rough swipes. You’re too overworked now for anything gentle to even register. How many times have you cum now? 

“You always taste so fucking good.” Jordan moans, voice hoarse and low.

He puts a hand under your back to press you further into his mouth. With only your shoulders pushed into the mattress you can’t move. Jordan’s eyes are always glued to your face when you fuck. As if he’s daring you to shy away from whatever he’ll do to you next. 

Considering that his favorite thing to do is overstimulate you, you’re not sure the irritation is fair. What are you supposed to do when he’s made you cum four times and is still going? According to Jordan, the answer is simple: lie there and take it. 

Lifting you up. Pinning you down. These are the solutions he’s arrived at. Jordan hates having to chase you just to give you the orgasm you begged him for in the first place. 

“You ready for my fingers again?” Jordan asks, but it’s not a real question, because you don’t get to so much as gasp before he’s plunging three fingers into you again. 

He’s rough as he rocks his fingers into that soft spot inside of you that always makes your eyes roll back into your head. He knows the angle you like him to use by heart. 

“Fucking shit, Jordan!” Your hands fall into his hair, grip like a vice, and Jordan half moans and half laughs against you.

It’s the vibrations that send you over the edge again. The breath leaving your lungs in one rush as that coil inside releases and makes the world go white and your ears ring. 

You come back to yourself slowly. Jordan hovering over you, pressing kisses into the side of your neck. You grasp at his shoulders, pulling him down so that he's laying on top of you. The weight is comforting after the overwhelming head rush. You still feel shaky. He goes down easily, wrapping one arm underneath you.

“I can feel you smirking, jerk.” You laugh weakly, hitting his arm.

“You soaked my fucking fingers. Think I'm allowed a smirk.” Jordan says. 

He lifts his head from your neck and there's that smug look you love to see him wear. It's enough to make you ready to have him all over again. You settle on gently massaging his scalp. 

“I'll tell you what you're allowed.” You tease, grinning at him. 

“Hah! Always have enough energy to be a fucking brat, huh?” Jordan rolls his eyes. 

You wrap your legs around his waist to bring him closer. “I've got enough energy to make out too! Gimme a kiss.”

“Fucking insatiable.” Jordan scoffs, but gives in. Because he always does. 

It's hard to think when Jordan kisses you. He kisses like he doesn't need to breathe. Or be anywhere else but with you. One of his hands finds yours, locking your fingers together. You squeeze tight. Try not to imagine holding his hand like this outside each other's dorms. Because that only ever makes you feel empty afterwards when all the hormones from the orgasms should leave you floating.

You get a third wind when Jordan rocks his hips against yours and you feel he's hard again. You reach a hand between the two of you, grasping his dick to angle him back inside. Thank God for Supe refractory periods. You sigh when his tip pushes into you. 

“Yeah princess? You want me again?” He tries to sound teasing, nonchalant, but he only sounds like he wants you just as bad.

You rock your hips so that he slides inside fully. Watch him tilt his head back and moan for you as you move. Hungrily taking in the way every sound shapes his mouth. You lean up to kiss at the underside of his jaw. You can't leave any hickies on him but you always kiss him like you want to. God you fucking wish you could. Maybe if you could leave marks people wouldn't chase after them so much. If everyone knew Jordan was yours. But Jordan isn't yours. 

You bite him a little harder.

Jordan's hand finds your throat. You whine, the noise strangled against his palm. You go lax as he pushes you back into the bed. Gently. His fingers flex, a little tighter, and your eyes flutter shut. 

“Gonna be good for me?” Jordan asks.

You nod your head frantically, legs dragging him closer. It's never close enough. No matter what you do. 

“Yeah, I'll be good, Jordie.” You say the words he wants to hear, feeling your head go soft and thoughtless again.

“Fucking liar.” He grinds his hips into yours and chokes you harder when you clench around him. 

You’d been fast friends, best friends, since the moment you stepped on campus and met one another as freshman. Talking to Jordan. Spending time with them. Everything that first year didn’t even feel like getting to know one another. It just felt like coming home.

You didn’t say as much to Jordan. They would have rolled their eyes and scoffed at how sensitive you were, if you had. But you knew they felt the same way. You were the one Jordan went to whenever they were sad. When they were excited. When they were coming into themselves, learning to love who they were after a lifetime of everyone else telling them not to. 

You were the first person to see them. Before Brink, even, you saw them. All their potential. All their greatness. All of them, and Jordan had never forgotten that. 

Jordan saw you too, in turn. You’d never felt like much more than a pretty face, before Jordan. 

You were the type of beautiful that made people look twice when they walked past you. When you were a little girl you soaked in all the praise like a flower. Every: ‘she’s so pretty’, and ‘well look at her!’, or ‘oh wow!’ was nourishment to your little soul.

It would be impossible to pinpoint the moment you realized that was all anyone saw. Even once your powers manifested. Advanced healing, advanced reflexes, limited invulnerability, energy manipulation. You were the whole nine yards. Your parents, when you were thirteen, had sent a video of you using your powers off to Vought. 

A man and woman showed up a day later in suits, wanting to meet you personally.

“She sure is a little looker, isn’t she?” The man had said, and he’d held your hand for too long before he let go. 

They’d come prepared. With ideas for costumes. Which team of teenage Supes you should be placed with. If you should just go straight for television. The adults talked around you. Not paying you any mind as you stared at the costume that would reveal so much skin. You’d never worn a skirt that short before. You hadn’t been allowed, hadn’t even wanted to, really. If you’d come home from the mall having bought anything like that on your own, your parents would have blown a fuse. Now they just sat on either side of you, mile wide grins plastered on their faces. 

All the voices faded to background noise. You realized maybe you were too young to be a superhero. You thought it would involve more... saving people. Running into burning buildings. Getting the bad guys. Saving the day. The people from Vought were only talking about magazine spreads. About what persona would fit your look. 

“What about school?” You’d asked, quietly, and everyone in the room had turned to look at you baffled. 

“What about school, sweetheart?” The woman laughed. “You’ll get a private tutor, of course. But your future is big. You won’t even have to worry about stuff like that anymore. Goodbye lame homework. Hello red carpets!” 

You sat very quietly until they left. Your parents were more angry than you’d ever seen them, when you told them you wanted to wait until after high-school to pursue being a hero. 

You knew telling them you weren’t sure you wanted to do it at all was off the table. 

During high-school you noticed people didn’t listen to you. You would be telling someone about your favorite book; or talking about a movie that changed your whole worldview, only to realize the other person had been staring at your lips the entire time. 

You stopped talking so much about things you cared about. No one listened anyways. 

‘Bimbo.’

‘Airhead.’

‘Slut.’ 

Were all things you’d heard before you’d ever gone on your first date. Gotten so much as your first kiss on the cheek. High-school was lonely, and you couldn’t talk about it being lonely without sounding like an asshole, you quickly realized. The few friends you had would roll their eyes when you’d try and vent. You thought it was just playful ribbing. Friends tease each other. It made you feel included! Until you caught them mocking you behind your back to one another.

‘Look at me, I’m Y/N, and life’s so hard because I’m so pretty and popular. Is she fucking serious? Stuck up bitch.’ 

You stopped venting.

When you got to God-U, you weren’t sure what to expect. College was a chance to reinvent yourself. Even if you weren’t sure you wanted to be a Superhero you knew this could be a chance to find your people. Lifelong friends. 

People who you could get coffees with between classes. Who would go to all your birthdays and want to be there. People you would spend hours on the phone with. Fall asleep studying together. Girls who might like you enough to make you their maid of honor. Guys who would high five you when you did something cool and not try to sneak a glance at your chest. 

You were imagining it all as you unpacked your boxes. Your stomach twisting itself into knots. Living in a half world between excitement and dread.

Then you met your roommate and she gave you the look. The look you’d gotten all your life from girls, and you knew you’d never be real friends. Girls who looked at you like that kept their boyfriends away from you at parties. And they never shared the secrets that friends share because they thought you’d put them in a fucking burn book. The look alone almost made you give up and just go home. 

You went for a walk instead, fighting back tears. That’s when you ran into Jordan. Literally, ran into Jordan. You knocked the both of you to the ground. 

When they’d snapped, “What the fuck dude?” at you, harsh and angry and very them, you’d burst into tears. 

It wasn’t the perfect way to meet your person. But you were glad you met them at all. 

 “Stop moving your eyes away from the screen.” Jordan says. 

“I’m not allowed to move my eyes away from the screen?” You laugh.

“No, this part is really important. You have to pay attention. I wanna see if you catch it.” 

You try your best to keep your eyes glued to the screen, as instructed. But you can’t help the way you keep glancing towards Jordan. She looks good. She always looks good, but right now you don’t even want to look away from her. The colors of the movie flashing across her face, blues and golds, make her look like a painting. 

“Are you watching?” Jordan asks, and you smile at the excitement in her voice. 

You look back towards the movie, wondering what she wants you to see so badly. You look just in time. A small detail catches your eyes and you gasp, reaching out a hand blindly to shake her in your own excitement. 

“Did you see that in the background?” You shake her again, for good measure.

“I saw it.” Jordan laughs.

“That means that he killed the wife!” 

“How do you figure?”

You pause the movie, ready to explain where you think the plot is heading. When you turn to face Jordan you have to take a deep breath. You don’t know whether you love or hate that look. Your feelings on the matter change day to day. 

Jordan is leaned up into the arm of the couch, relaxed, and she’s staring at you with The Smile she wears sometimes. She started doing it a few months into your friendship. Back when you used to talk and then slowly stop. So completely sure that nobody wanted to hear what you had to say. 

Jordan had asked you, back then, why you always stopped telling stories halfway through, or stopped talking about your day, or the latest book you’d read. 

You wanted to lie, at first. Eventually you told a half truth, “I never have anything interesting to say.” 

Jordan had looked at you for a long time. You were worried that somehow, up until that moment, they hadn’t realized how boring you were. But you acknowledging it out loud had made them think about it, and now they were going to ditch you for a friend who was interesting, funny, and smart. 

Instead, Jordan had told you that she loved the way your mind worked, and she’d smiled The Smile at you, for the first time. You hadn’t known how to respond, to the words, or the smile. You turned the conversation back towards Brink’s latest class assignment. 

Later that night you’d gone back to your dorm room and cried, but you’d felt happier than you’d ever felt. 

It made you feel warm and soft that three years later Jordan still smiled at you like that. It felt like your cue to say anything on your mind, no matter how dumb. Green light means go. The Smile means talk. 

“Well?” Jordan nudges you with her foot, still smiling, and waiting for you. 

You shake your head to break free of the spell she puts you in, “Well, look at his sense of style for the entire movie. All his stuff is modern and sleek and then the first time we see his bedroom all the rest of the decor is in line with the rest of the house, except that one thing. All the camera shots are so purposeful and they lingered a little, after he walked away. They wanted us to see he was keeping a trophy. He totally killed her, didn’t he?” 

Jordan pauses for a second and then laughs. “I don’t know how you always guess right. I didn’t see the twist coming at all the first time I watched it.”

“Secondary super power.”

“Connecting all the dots?”

“Connecting all the dots, yeah.” 

“Y/N! Y/N, thank fucking god, you gotta come with me.” Cate grabbed you by the arm, rougher than she’d ever touched you before. 

“I was on my way to class.” You tripped over your feet as Cate pulled you the opposite way you needed to go.

“Forget class! Jordan’s gonna get themself expelled.” Cate snapped. 

“What?!” 

“They’re beating the shit out of Peter in the locker room. Luke’s not on campus. I can’t get close enough to stop them-”

You’d broken into a sprint towards the fighting arena. You didn’t know what the hell was happening. Peter and Jordan had spoken maybe ten times to each other in all the years of attending the same university. 

You’d never gotten anywhere so fast in your life. Andre was standing steadfast in front of the entrance to the boy’s locker room, a small group of other students standing outside. You could hear the sounds of fighting pouring out from the door. 

“Back it up you fucking vultures.” Andre snipped. He might not have super strength but he was still Number 4, and could look intimidating when he needed to. 

“Andre, what’s going on?” You pushed to the front of the crowd. 

“Thank fuck Cate found you. You gotta get in there. Jordan’s gonna fucking mur-” Andre glanced at the phones pointed at the both of you, trying to record even a drip of gossip about top students trying to seriously hurt each other and lowered his voice, “Jordan is actually gonna fucking kill Peter. I’ll keep the crowds back. Get in there.” 

You moved past him into the locker room and your jaw dropped at the state of the place. 

You thought these lockers were bolted down. Apparently not. At least four rows of them were knocked to the ground, heavily dented. A water bottle refilling station had been crumpled to nothing, exposed pipe spraying water across the floor.

“Get off of me you fucking animal.” You heard Peter cry from further in the room and ran. 

Jordan had shoved Peter up against the wall. You were surprised Peter was still conscious. He was lucky he healed so fast. You could see his black eye fading even as Jordan broke his nose. 

“You fucking stay away from her. You understand? I hear you fucking talking like that again and I take the tongue out of your fucking mouth, you asshole.” 

Peter laughs through a mouth full of blood,“Not my fault she gave it up so easy, Li-” 

Jordan throws him into one of the last standing lockers and you see that they are indeed bolted into the ground. Evidently, Jordan throws stronger than Supe resistant steel can take. When Jordan moves to lift Peter out of the crater his body made in the downed locker you rush in between them, putting a shield up. 

“Y/N?” You can see some of the anger fade from Jordan’s face, just a little, at the sight of you.

“Hey, Jordie. Think Peter has had enough.”

Jordan scoffs, “No, he really fucking hasn’t,” he leans around you to yell at Peter, who’s trying to push himself onto his knees, “He’s still running his fucking mouth!” 

“Pussy whipped asshole-” Peter groans.

You glance at Peter on the floor, aghast, “Peter! Stop antagonizing, Jordan. What’s wrong with you?” 

“Unbelievable, honestly. You walk in on Jordan kicking my ass and you tell me to stop antagonizing the fucker?” Peter huffs, pushing his nose back into place so it won’t heal wrong. 

“Name calling isn’t gonna make him stop kicking your ass. I’m trying to help.” You shoot back.

“Well, no one needs your help, you dumb-” 

“Hey.” Jordan interrupts. He’s not yelling anymore, but his voice is the loudest thing in the room. “Watch your mouth, Peter. I fucking mean it.” 

You look back and forth between them. They watch each other for a long moment. Jordan looking eerily calm. Peter looks away first. 

“Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought. Come on, Y/N.” Jordan grabs your hand and marches you out of the locker room. Past Andre and Cate, who try to stop you both but Jordan waves them off and muscles his way past the crowd too. 

He doesn’t stop until you’re back in his dorm room and he’s shut the door behind the two of you. 

“You were fucking that loser?” He asks, clicking the lock into place.    

“You’re lucky Andre and Cate kept people out of the locker room so there’s no video of everything! You could get expelled, Jordan! What the fuck happened?” 

“He hit me first and he’s not even in the top ten. What’s he at? Number 14? No one’ll give a shit what happens to him. When did you start fucking him?”

“I’m not fucking him! Or… I’m not just, fucking him. I’m… I was dating him. Why were you two fighting?” 

“Dating? For how fucking long? You didn’t tell me you were dating anyone.” Jordan’s hair is already a disheveled mess. He yanks his fingers through the strands and makes it worse. 

“We’ve been going on dates for like… three months? Kinda? Maybe.” You say quietly. 

“Three months?! Are you serious? Why didn’t you tell me? What the fuck?” 

“Why are you so mad?”

“Friends talk to each other about shit like this! And if you’d talked to me, I would have told you that Peter is a clout chasing piece of shit that’ll never amount to anything. You should’ve heard the shit he was saying today. Fucking piece of shit!” 

“That’s why you were fighting?” You wring your hands together, a knot tying itself over and over in your stomach. “What did he say?”

Jordan stops pacing the room, goes still and turns away from you. 

“Well? What did he say? It was bad enough to make you two beat the shit out of each other! So what was it?” 

“He just… You don’t have to worry about it, okay? He won’t go near you again.” Jordan says firmly.

“Whatever he said he’s gonna keep saying. Just behind my back. I should know.”

Jordan sighs and moves to sit beside you on his couch, knee bouncing with anxiety. “He was… bragging to his shitty friends. About being the first guy on campus to fuck you. About how it didn’t even take that long and… how… he was thinking of recording you. So he could show them how slutty you are. It was…. fucking disgusting.” 

“Oh.” You say. 

You swallow around the lump in your throat. You’d done everything you could to avoid something like this happening. Had kept your dates off campus, to make sure he actually wanted to date you and not just the hot girl ranked Number 3. You’d spent nights staying up on the phone laughing and talking. You’d put off sleeping with Peter for a whole two months, even though you liked him, because you wanted to make sure he liked you. 

You hadn’t even let him call you his girlfriend until a few days ago. You thought he really liked you. But no matter how hard you try… you guess this is it. You’re just something pretty to look at. Even Vought doesn’t take you seriously, despite your powers. You’re the top ranked student in everything. Right behind Jordan. Forensic analysis. Combat. Battle strategy. Still, you only ever get asked about makeup routines and how to maintain your figure in interviews. 

You wipe at your burning eyes and try not to cry about something you’ve already accepted. 

“Fuck that guy. Fuck him. He’s so far beneath your level I’m surprised you can perceive his plane of fucking existence, okay? He’s a fucking single cell organism. He doesn’t even know what a brain is.” Jordan gets up from the couch to kneel in front of you, tries to look you in the eyes. 

“I’m so fucking stupid.” 

“No, you fucking are not. Don’t say that about yourself. He’s fucking stupid. It’s genuinely insane you even wasted your time with him. Why didn’t you tell me you were seeing anyone?” Jordan asks, voice quiet.

“I just…. I wanted to make sure he was actually gonna stick around before I even brought him up to you. You’re so … important, why tell you about someone who isn’t? It’s not like you write home to me about any of the people you mess around with! We’ve never really talked about this kind of stuff.” 

“Yeah, but it’s different. I’m not serious about anyone! You were actually dating, Peter. And I would have told you not to.” Jordan rolls his eyes.

“Well, I wanted to make sure it was serious. Before I even said anything.” 

“It wouldn’t have gotten serious if you’d told me about it in the first place. I wouldn’t have let Peter within ten feet of you!” 

“We’re talking in circles.” You huff in frustration, pressing your palms into your eyes to stop the stinging.

“Sorry, I just…. Fucking still wish I was beating the shit out of him, honestly.” Jordan says.

“You are not leaving this room for the rest of the day, Li. Even if he is Number 14, you can’t walk away from a fight then go back for seconds cause you didn’t get it all out the first time. That won’t hold up too well in court.”

“He heals too fast for there to be any marks left on him. It’ll all be hearsay.” Jordan smirks.  

You let out a weak laugh. Jordan reaches out, touching the corner of your lips. “Can we shoot for something a little bigger? If I don’t see you smile soon I’ll actually go kill him.” 

You roll your eyes and slide to the edge of the couch, so you’re resting your head on Jordan’s shoulder, leaning all your weight against him. He wraps his arms around you, rubbing circles into your spine.

“I really wanted it to work out, Jordan.” You mumble into the skin of his collarbone.

“With fucking Peter?” 

“With… anyone.” Your voice wavers and Jordan’s grip gets tighter. “It’s so fucking lonely. I just want to be someone’s favorite person. Not because of how I look, but because they like me. Really like me. And no one fucking does, no matter how hard I try.” The tears start falling now and Jordan pulls back and makes you look up at him, one hand on your cheek. 

“Hey, hey, don’t cry. I fucking… I like you. I’ve always liked you.” Jordan says, frantic as he wipes away the tears as they come.

“It’s not the same, Jordan!” You shake your head, and bite your lip. You’d almost said it’s not enough. Because it isn’t. But you can't think about that for too long. It makes the hole in you ache a little worse. 

“Yeah….guess it’s not.” Jordan says quietly. He keeps wiping away the tears, dutiful and gentle as he goes. 

“You said he hit you first?” You ask, after a long moment of him quietly soothing you.

“Come on, I’m not stupid. Had to let him get the first swing in.” Jordan smirked.

“What did you say to make him hit you?” You ask.

“Told him he was lucky you believe in charity work and giving back to the fucking needy.” 

It’s enough to startle a laugh out of you. You smack his arm weakly before pulling him into another hug. He kisses the top of your head so softly you don’t notice it, too busy laughing. 

“Y/N, good to see you dear. You keeping our Jordan out of trouble?” Brink asks as he comes out of his office, not surprised to see you perched on Jordan’s desk. 

“Professor, we both know that I’m the one getting Jordan into trouble.” You flash the older man your most mischievous grin. 

“Ah, my apologies. I assume that means you’re distracting her from doing her work, as well?” Brink raises an eyebrow teasingly. 

“Yes.” You say.

“No.” Jordan protests, at the same time. 

You throw your head back with a laugh. “It’s a goal I hold most dear to my heart, to distract Jordan from grading these papers. I think I’m succeeding wonderfully, you’ll be happy to know, Professor.” 

“She’s joking, Professor.” Jordan smacks your thigh and you glance down just in time to burn the image of her hand on your thigh into your brain. She almost never touches you, when she’s like this. 

“You know, Jordan, I didn’t happen to lose my sense of humor after I hit sixty.” Brink waves off Jordan’s concern and leans towards the two of you, whispering conspiratorially, “I know the gray hair gives the illusion of being a boring old fart, but I do like to laugh every now and then.”

Jordan shakes her head with a small laugh and you can’t help but watch, entranced, at the way her hair brushes the olive skin of her cheeks. When you look back towards Brink you find him already watching you, a knowing smile on his lips. You laugh nervously, and look down at the wood grain texture of Jordan’s desk. It’s suddenly fascinating. Is it real oak? Cherry?

“You close to being done, Jordan?” Brink asks casually. 

“Uh-” Jordan’s face blanches and you suddenly feel genuinely sorry for distracting her from her work. 

“-relax, kiddo. You’re not in trouble. Geez, what am I, a work nazi? Those papers don’t need to be graded for another four days, right? You work too hard. I was just asking cause’ I was getting a little hungry myself and wanted to know if you could use a break? There’s a great new Indian place nearby, apparently. Professor. Karp was telling me about it yesterday. It’s only a twenty minute ride away. Wanna tag along?” 

“I should probably finish up a few more papers-” 

“She would love to take a break, Professor.” You reach over, saving the work Jordan’s done and shutting down her laptop at lightning speed. 

“Brat.” Jordan mouths the word at you quickly, so Brink won’t see. 

You stick your tongue out at her, not caring if anyone sees. 

“You should come along too, Y/N. Been awhile since we last caught up.” Brink has a twinkle in his eye that you can’t quite place.

You slide off Jordan’s desk anyways, not willing to pass up any valuable Time Spent With Jordan, “I’m not sure if I trust Professor Karp’s recommendation on restaurants, but I’ll try and be very brave about it if the food is awful.”

“Jordan, have I ever told you how much I love this girl?” Professor Brink shrugs on his coat with a laugh. 

“Yeah.” Jordan watches Brink help you into your own coat with a small smile. “Yeah, Professor you have.” 

“Fucking fuck me!” Jordan throws her phone onto the coffee table in front of her.

“Are the parental units being emotional terrorists again?” You ask from your spot on her bed, turning the page of your textbook, mindlessly highlighting another sentence that could be important for the upcoming final. 

“No, it’s just the whole fucking roster is busy.” Jordan roughly runs a hand through her hair, disheveling her bob. 

“Huh?” You look up from your notes.

“The whole roster is locked in for finals but I really need to let off some fucking steam!” Jordan sighs.

“How big is the roster?” You try to sound curious, like a best friend would be, and not irritated, like someone in love with their best friend would be. 

“Too big for me to not be fucking someone right now.” Jordan snips. 

“We are studying right now. Or I’m studying, and you should be studying too, instead of thinking about needing to get your rocks off.” You say coolly, flipping to the next page. 

“I can’t fucking focus.” Jordan groans, but comes back over to the bed and flops down beside you, throwing her arm over her eyes. “What concept are we on now?” 

“Theories on limiting public and private property damage in fights with other Supes.”

“There is no fucking way I can focus on something that fucking boring without having an orgasm first.”Jordan groans, again, “It’s not even about limiting loss of human life or injury?”

“Nope. Property damage.” 

“Fuck me!” 

You both fall into silence. You studying. Jordan, you assume, weighing the pros and cons of downloading Tinder. The thought makes your stomach drop.

Then you get an idea. An awful, horrible, no good, rotten fucking idea. 

Your mouth is opening before you can stop yourself, “You could fuck me.”

“Huh?” You’ve never seen Jordan sit up so fast.

“I just mean- … we really gotta focus and I... I mean if you just need to let off some steam we could always…” You try your best to fumble your way into proper usage of the English language but even the thought of fucking Jordan makes that impossible. 

“Are you serious right now?” Jordan shifts halfway through the sentence, eyes glued to your every nervous, jittery movement as you sit in front of him.

“Wouldn’t have said anything if it wasn’t a real offer.” You say quietly, not looking up from the book. 

Jordan snatches said book from your lap and tosses it away, ignoring your noise of protest. “You don’t think it’d make things weird?” 

“Weird was when I had to take you to get your wisdom teeth removed and you kept saying the green man was gonna get us while you were still high off the good stuff. Sex is just sex, right?” You try to say it casually. 

“Would… would it be a one time thing?” Jordan asks slowly.  

“It could be more… we could be-” You say, equally as slow. 

“- could be?” Jordan echoes, voice sounding oddly tight and expression carefully blank.

The look is so strange it makes you panic, and if you’d thought of saying something stupid and desperate for one second like ‘a couple’, well, that look on his face is more than enough to send you straight back to reality on the ‘my-life-fucking-sucks’ express in no time flat.

“We could be like friends with benefits!” You blurt out in one breath. 

“Oh.” Jordan says. 

“It was just an idea.” You reach for the textbook again, which landed near Jordan’s thigh. You’re careful not to touch him when you grab it, or sound too disappointed, or heartbroken at the completely lackluster reaction Jordan has to the thought of having sex with you. “A stupid idea, forget it.”

“Why’s it stupid?” Jordan’s brow furrows, tone teetering on the edge of defensive. 

“I mean…” You can’t think of a reason fast enough. “We’re probably sexually incompatible.” 

“Why do you assume that?” Jordan goes from staring at you, to glaring at you. 

You’ve always hated how once Jordan latches on to a line of questioning, you can’t get them to drop that interrogation for shit. A dog with a bone has nothing on a Jordan who wants an answer.

“I don’t… know?” You say, but it sounds like a question. 

“I think we’d be compatible.” Jordan states this like he’d state the sky is blue or water is wet. 

“Have you thought about it before?” You ask, bewildered. 

“What, are you into something really kinky?” Jordan answers your previous question not at all.

“No!” There goes that nervous body language of yours again. 

“Only way to really know if we’re sexually compatible is to actually try it out.” Suddenly, Jordan is within your personal space bubble. 

You don’t really know how to react, your body freezes up on instinct. Jordan’s hand comes up to rub soothing circles into the crook of your elbow. Your shoulders fall away from your ears.

“Can I kiss you?” Jordan’s voice is quiet, soft as he tilts his head to knock his nose against yours. Playful, teasing. But the look on his face is something you can’t place at all. 

You feel his breath on your lips and nod absentmindedly. 

“Don’t want you to nod when I ask you a question like this. Yes or no, Y/N?” 

“Ye-” The words not fully out of your mouth before Jordan is kissing you, a heavy hand pulling you closer by the nape of your neck. 

You pull yourself into Jordan’s lap and try to focus on how good it feels when he nips at your bottom lip, instead of how much you wished you’d asked him to be your boyfriend. Or girlfriend. Partner. Everything. Even if he’d said no, at least then you would have had an answer. Now you’ve only made your life harder. 

You stop thinking so much when Jordan puts a hand on your hip and guides you to grind yourself against him. 

“Y/N’s right.” Jordan mutters, not looking up from his phone. 

“No, she is not. You’re just agreeing with her because that’s your default factory setting. Listen to the context of the argument please.” Andre snaps, drowning his Vought Triple meat burger in ketchup.

“I did. Your grim dark theory on children’s media is lame, and Y/N knows more about the Monster’s Inc universe than you ever will.” Jordan shrugs.

“Hah!” You laugh in Andre’s face.

“Is it really such a flex to be an expert on the lore of a Pixar movie universe?” Cate asks teasingly. 

“Yes.” You say. 

“No.” Andre says, like a sore loser.  

“I agree with Y/N, it’s literally in the explicit text of the movie, Monsters Inc isn’t a post-apocalyptic world. It’s a separate dimension from ours. The monsters come to our dimension to harvest screams of children to get clean, scream energy. God, Andre, pay attention during movie night.” Luke jumps in on the tormenting Andre train, grinning wildly at the other man from across the table. He gets a middle finger for his troubles. 

“I’m glad someone pays attention to the intricate lore of the greatest movie of all time.” You sniff haughtily. 

“I literally agreed with you first.” Jordan looks at you from over the top of her phone in a way that makes you blush. 

“I’m glad two people are paying attention to the intricate lore of the greatest movie of all time.” You clear your throat. 

“Thank you.” Jordan’s intense brown eyes fall away from you and you take a gulp of your drink. 

“Bathroom alert, Y/N. A stall just opened up.” Cate tells you pointing to the bathroom door right as another girl exits. 

“I am kissing you on the lips, telepathically.” You say, sliding from the booth you’re all sharing.

“Don’t you telepathically lip lock with my girlfriend.” Luke calls after you, laughing.

“Get some powers of telepathy yourself and make me, fire boy.” You enter the bathroom, shutting out the sounds of laughter from your table with a smile. 

You take the biggest stall at the back and try to go about your business quickly. You hear two faucets turn on, someone washing their hands, and try not to get pee shy. 

“So how was it?” A monotone voice asks, you assume one of the hand washers.

“You know I don’t usually kiss and tell, but it was insane.” A higher, more giggly voice answers. 

“So they really are good in bed then, huh?” The monotone voice sounds a little more curious. 

“Incredible. All the rumors are true. They’re a little… uh, brusque, about the after sex part, if I’m putting it lightly, but the sex itself was great!” The high voice chirps. 

“What? Did they throw you a towel and tell you to kick rocks?” The monotone voice asks. 

“Pretty much.” The high voice sighs. “But they made me cum so many times I think I’d still pick up if they called me again. You think they might?” 

“I say this with all the love in the world: girl stand up.” Monotone voice drawls. 

“You wouldn’t be telling me that if you knew how good it felt to sit on her face.” High voice says.

You stifle a laugh, trying not to get caught eavesdropping, but with Supe hearing it really is hard to mind your own business. Besides, they’re not being that quiet about the conversation anyways. 

“I’ll have to take your word for it.”

“Or you could experience it for yourself. They were just as good as a boy as they were as a girl. Maybe better. I dunno. She was more aggressive as a girl, which was kinda hot.” 

“Jordan Li, pussy eating extraordinaire. Can we go now? Our food is probably ready.” Monotone voice sighs. 

“Fine, but I’m telling you, the things they can do with a strap are-” 

The voices fade away with the sound of the bathroom door opening and closing. 

You find you don’t really want to finish eating your food, when you get back to the table. You spend the rest of lunch trying your best not to look at Jordan, and also ignoring Cate’s concerned gaze boring into the side of your skull. 

You pretend to be sick to avoid having to face the reality of Jordan being more than happy to touch other girls as a girl. They just don’t want to touch you when they’re a girl. You wonder what about you is so uniquely off putting. You wonder why it can’t be you. Why can’t it ever fucking be you? 

Jordan barges into your room on day three of the silent treatment that you told the group chat was due to a raging fever. 

Luckily your eyes, swollen shut from all the crying, and the red nose to match, corroborate the story. 

“We got it all. We’ve got tissues. We got soup. We got pain meds. We got liquid meds. We also have all the ingredients for a hot toddy, if you want to mix your poisons a little.” Jordan begins to unpack everything onto your counter. 

“I don’t want to take anything.” You say morosely, and a little mean, kind of wanting to hate them but just feeling sad. Jordan’s your best friend before anything else, and you could never hate your first real friend. 

“Come on, just a little something. You sound fucked up.” Jordan practically coos, touching your forehead. “Feels like your fever’s gone down a little. Sit up for me.” He says, and pulls you to sit up when you don’t do it on your own.  

“I don’t want to fucking-” Jordan puts two pills in your mouth as soon as you open it to bitch at him. He hands you water to help you swallow it down. 

“Thanks for that. That was really fun for me.” You snap once you’re done.

“It’s for pain and should bring down the rest of your fever.” Jordan lays you back down, tucking the covers all the way up to your chin. You marvel at the way he doesn’t rise to the bait of your very clear attitude. Jordan, catching the look on your face offers you a small glare. “I’m worried. You usually don’t get sick. I’ll check that attitude when you’re better. Now, do you want the damn hot toddy or not?” He rubs your head soothingly.

“Yes, please.” You try not to pout as you watch Jordan make the drink for you. You really hate how hard it is to hate them. “Sorry, Jordie.” 

“Oh, you can go ahead and save that apology for when I make you cry into your pillow, yeah?” Jordan doesn’t even look up from measuring the ingredients.

You pull the covers over your head and leave them there until Jordan pulls them back down. 

You almost hadn’t come to the party. 

You weren’t in a partying mood, as of late. You were in more of a Shakespearean pining era than a City Girls one. But the group had bullied you in the group chat for a week straight until you’d promised to come. The group bullying hadn’t worked so much as Jordan asking you one single time to go had.

So here you were. 

You’d been nursing one drink for the better part of an hour and hadn’t done a single line of cocaine. Jordan had offered you some, but the line had already been placed on the back of his hand. You politely declined, much to his confusion. You only ever did hard drugs with Jordan, and only at big rager parties like this one. 

At the moment you’re nearly sober. Because you didn’t so much as want to touch Jordan right now. Let alone do something like snort a line off of him. Then you’d have to do something like lick the residue off his skin. Which would lead to kissing him. Which would lead to making out with him. Which would lead to fucking him. 

And you think, for the sake of your sanity, you need to be done fucking Jordan Li. 

It’s been about three weeks since you were “sick” and you’d dodged every attempt at getting physical that Jordan tried to initiate since. At first you were able to pass it off as still feeling icky. That excuse worked for a week. Now, you didn’t hang out alone with them and pretended not to see Jordan’s ‘you up?’ texts until morning. 

Your friendship just needs a hard reset. This time spent not having sex will do it. 

Besides, it’s not like Jordan isn’t swimming in fucking choices. What does it matter if you’re one less body off the menu? There are plenty of hot girls at this school. Jordan’s probably already fucked half of them.

You throw back the rest of the drink you’ve been nursing all at once.

“Are you okay?” Cate puts a hand on your arm and you offer her a blinding, completely fake smile. 

“Yeah!” You say, as chipper as possible.

“Jesus christ.” Cate replies, face going all sad and concerned. “What did Jordan do?” 

“Huh?” You blink, confused.

“You are the most pissed off I’ve ever seen you. What did Jordan do? You’ve been avoiding them for like two weeks. What gives?” Cate pulls you closer by the arm so that she doesn’t have to shout over the music. 

“Nothing!” 

“Can you try to lie again but do it better, this time?” Cate frowns.

“Jesus Christ, does everything have to be about Jordan? Must my whole entire goddamn life revolve around Jordan Li?” You snap, the way someone who isn’t mad about anything does.  

“Okay.” Cate says slowly. Like she’s trying to placate a wild animal. 

The tone alone makes you roll your eyes and move to disappear back in the crowd of drunk twenty-somethings. But she firms her grip on you, the leather of her glove digging into your skin. 

“Y/N-”

“I’m fine, Cate. I just have to get over it.” 

“Get over what?” Cate narrows her eyes at you. That shrewd look she sometimes wears when she knows something before someone else falls onto her face. 

You wonder if you’re completely transparent about your pining or if Cate missed a dose of her medication. Is she starting to hear the buzzing of your frantic, angry, miserable thoughts? Or is she just naturally perceptive? 

“So, this is where the real party is hiding!” An arm is thrown around your shoulders suddenly and you are careful not to sigh, because Jordan may not be as perceptive as Cate, but they’re pretty damn close. Especially when it comes to you. 

You’ve never moved away from them holding you close like this before, so you can’t do it now. You try to just be still. Don’t lean into his warmth, but don’t cringe away either. You probably used to melt against him, when he touched you. Pathetically. Desperately. A sunflower following rays of light across the sky. 

“-Princess?” Jordan gives you a gentle shake and your head snaps to the side to look at him. “You okay?”

“Yup!” Apparently, you didn’t say that convincingly because he starts to scowl at you. Surprisingly enough, the thought of withstanding a Jordan interrogation does not make you want to be at this party for much longer. “I’m gonna head out, though.” 

“What?!” Twin exclamations of confusion form Jordan and Cate both.

“Not feeling it. I think I need to get some more sleep. I got a headache, or… something.” You shrug.

“Or something?” Jordan echoes.

“You are not going anywhere, yet, dear friend.” Andre throws his own arm around you, appearing from thin air, and tugging you away from Jordan. You’ve never been more grateful to him. 

“How do you figure that?” You laugh.

“We’re about to play truth or dare in the other room and you dodged playing last time. You can leave after you’ve played. You can’t get known as the truth or dare dodger.” Andre says. 

“You say that as if being a party game dodger is like being known for dodging the Vietnam draft.” You snort.

“No, it’s worse. People that dodged the Vietnam drafts are heroes. Truth or dare dodgers are cowards. Come on.” Andre begins to drag you towards the other room and you go along with minimal dragging of your feet across the floor. 

The room is crowded, but all the faces are familiar. They’re all within the top twenty, or the groupies that hang around everyone in the top twenty. You pull Andre across the room to a spot on a raggedy couch you have to squeeze the both of you into. No room for Jordan, who you want to avoid. Or Cate, who is too fucking perceptive. 

You wish you’d grabbed another drink for yourself. Jordan winds up across the room from you, in an optimal position for trying to catch your eye and give you a concerned look every ten seconds. 

This does not make Truth or Dare more fun to watch. 

Vulgar dare from one classmate to another. Forcing someone else to admit an uncomfortable truth. One humiliation after the other. Pick your poison on whether you want to debase yourself through the damnation of your own words or a physical act. All challenges of self-mortification being doled out by people who secretly don’t like each other very much, but all call each other friends anyways. 

“Earth to Y/N the space cadet.” The girl sitting next to you gives you a playful shove. You try not to glare at her. Her name escapes you. You think she hangs around with number 6. Or something. 

“What?”

“Cate picked you. Truth or dare.” She says the words ominously, causing teasing jeering to rise from the entire group. 

“Well, Y/N, what’s it gonna be?” Cate raises her eyebrow at you challengingly. 

“She doesn’t have to play if she doesn’t want to, guys.” Jordan rolls his eyes.

“Dare.” You say, wanting to get this over with. 

The room erupts into excited noise. You don’t know why. Cate, of all people, would never force you to do anything humiliating. Or truly scandalous. It’s why you trust her enough to say dare, instead of truth. But you never pick dare, because anyone else would abuse the power. Everyone looks too eager to see Number 3 do something embarrassing. 

As if Cate isn’t your closest friend beside Jordan. As if she’d abuse the trust you place in her. It makes you sick. You don’t wanna be here. At this party, or at this stupid fucking school.

“I dare you…. to kiss the prettiest girl in the room.” 

“What?!” Jordan turns to give Cate the nastiest, most disgusted glare you’ve ever seen.

“She doesn’t have to do it if she doesn’t want to. You know I’m all about consent.” Cate shrugs innocently, crossing her legs together and giving you a smirk. 

You sit for a second, contemplating your next move. There are plenty of pretty girls at this party. In this room. If nothing else, the top twenty and their groupies are photogenic (hell, some of them are only in the top twenty because of their looks to begin with. You hope you’re not one of those.) But there’s only one girl you want to kiss at this party. 

There’s only one person in the world you want to kiss at all. 

You take a shaky breath, feeling like the walls are closing in. Andre nudges you subtly, catches your eye, as if to say: ‘you okay?’ but there’s something else in the look too. Something that says it’s not just Cate, who knows. Probably your whole friend group knows how you feel. Probably the whole school. Probably anyone but Jordan sees it. And Jordan probably does see it, because they’re too fucking smart not to, and they’re choosing to ignore it. Because it’s easier that way. Because your feelings are probably too inconvenient. Because you’re not their type. Because you’re clingy, and stupid, and not good enough- 

You stand up. The room is a wall of noise, and smell and sound pressing in on you. You see Cate smirk. You see Jordan looking away. You see every girl in the room sit up straight. Delusional, if they think any of them could ever be anything, compared to Jordan. 

You walk past every other girl in the room, and stand in front of Jordan, who still isn’t looking.

You kick his ankle with the toe of your heel, to get him to look at you. His head snaps around, the curls of his hair sticking to his forehead, and he looks comically confused. And it’s really too fucking much, for someone as smart as Jordan to look so confused. So fucking baffled, about what’s happening here. But it’s a pretty convincing act. That only makes you more angry. 

You make an impatient motion with your hand. A ‘do it already’ movement of your wrist. The same way you’d crossly signal for another driver to go first at a fucking four way stop. 

He just blinks up at you, owlish. 

"Well? Are you gonna let me kiss the prettiest girl at this fucking school or what, Li?" The room has gone a little quiet, or maybe the blood is rushing in your ears so bad everything is quiet in comparison. 

Jordan stares up at you for a moment longer than is comfortable. And you really start to feel the eyes of everyone in the room on you. You don’t let yourself shy away from the attention. Not Jordan’s, not anyone else’s. You straighten your spine and look down your nose at him, and tap your foot. Try to look like the mean girl everyone expects you to be because no one cares who you actually are. 

As if you could care less if Jordan leaves you stranded right now. As if it will be their loss, if they don’t kiss you, instead of the worst moment of your entire life. 

Jordan shifts. 

You try not to think of how desperate you must look, when you reach out at a speed that isn’t human to hold her face and angle it up, so you can finally fucking kiss the girl you love. 

You wish you could kiss her like it didn’t mean anything. Like she’s nothing. Like you hate her. But you don’t know if this is the only time you’ll ever get to kiss Jordan when she’s your girl, and not your boy. This might be the last time you kiss Jordan ever. 

It has to be. 

You close your eyes tight. Try to ignore the way they’re stinging. You kiss Jordan slow and tender. The way you’ve always wanted to. You tangle a hand in her hair, to bring her closer. You try not to marvel at the way the longer strands tangle in your fingertips. She gasps against you, and her hands find your waist and you are too sober to cry over Jordan touching your waist above your clothes. Like a fucking middle-schooler. 

But the tears start falling anyways. You let out a quiet sob against her lips that you try your hardest to stifle, and Jordan may not have kissed you like this before. But she’s kissed you plenty. She pulls back, startled, like an animal. Big brown eyes full of concern. 

And the spell is broken, and you are standing in front of about thirty of the world’s worst, most unsympathetic human beings, crying, because you kissed your best friend who doesn’t want you back. 

You’ve got ten seconds to leave before someone pulls out their phone and records you. If they haven’t already started. 

So you run.

Through your tears the layout of the house becomes unfamiliar. You try to hide your face a little, and hope people don’t recognize you as you pass them by, sobbing openly. 

Years of pent up feelings are bubbling out of you. The relief. The grief. The way you hate yourself for falling in love with the only person who has ever loved you. Wondering why you couldn’t just be grateful for the kindest, most understanding friendship you never even thought yourself worthy of. Why couldn’t that have been enough? 

Why did you fall in love with them? 

A hand closes around your wrist and you try to yank yourself away but you’re pulled into a bathroom and the door slams shut behind you. 

You wipe your eyes so you can see who’s tried to save you from embarrassing yourself any further. 

It’s Jordan. Because of course it is.

You burst into tears again. 

“Are you fucking drunk? What the fuck was that? Y/N what the fuck is happening right now?” Jordan sounds on the verge of a mental break. 

She’s probably wondering what type of things people are gonna start saying about the two of you on social media. She’s probably mad at you for giving her a PR mess to clean up. 

“I’m not drunk!” You protest, sounding a little like someone who might be drunk. 

“Are you high? What did you take? Lemme see your pupils.” Jordan reaches out to grab your face and you swat her hand away. 

“No one fucking drugged me, Jordan. I’m just a stupid fucking idiot who’s in love with you! There! Are you happy?! Why don’t you go laugh at me with one of your stupid fucking girlfriends. You’ve got so fucking many of them.” You wail, sinking down to the floor, and hiding your face in your arms. 

The room goes quiet, besides the sound of you crying. Loudly. You think you might be having an anxiety attack. You can’t breathe right. But maybe that’s just from the heaving, toddler-like sobs. 

“You’re in love with me?” Jordan asks, quietly. 

“As if you don’t know!” You snap your head up to glare at her. She kneels down in front of you, and puts her hand on your knee and you try not to get distracted by how pretty she is. “I follow you around like a puppy dog. Like your little shadow. And everyone notices except for you, because you don’t want to notice, because you don’t fucking want me. I got the message, Jordan. I got it!” 

“What message?!” Jordan grabs you by the shoulders, voice fraying at the edges, and looks like she wants to shake you.

“You don’t touch me!” Your voice raises to the edge of a yell, and the sound of it echoes in the small room. 

“What are you fucking talking about-”

“-don’t be cute, Jordan. You don’t touch me when you’re a girl! I thought… I thought it was maybe just that you didn’t touch girls when you’re a girl but it isn’t. Apparently you have plenty of fucking girls that you touch and fuck, when you’re a girl. It’s just me, that you don’t! What’s so fucking bad about me? Huh? What’s wrong with me? Why don’t you want me?” You demand.

You think you might sound like an insane person, and you wish you could pull the words back in but the hurt is bubbling out. A river relishing that first burst of freedom when a dam breaks, no matter how much damage it causes. 

Jordan is staring at you like you’ve grown two heads. Mouth agape. You wish you were dead, a little.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Jordie.” Your voice goes small, and you sniffle. “I really tried to stop. But I can’t, I love you. I’ve probably loved you from that very first day. Because you’re wonderful, you’re the most wonderful person I’ve ever met and I don’t know how anyone…” You trail off, fanning at your eyes to try and pull yourself together. “...I don’t know how everyone else knows you without being in love with you. I wish I wasn’t in love with you, please don’t be mad, please don’t fucking-” You sob, again. 

You find yourself pulled into Jordan’s lap this time. It’s a foreign feeling, to be touching so much of Jordan when she’s like this. You bury your face into her neck and cry, and let her black hair block out the fluorescent lighting. She shushes you, cheek pressing against the side of your head, and that’s familiar. The way she soothes you. Your hands wrinkle the fabric of her jacket, clinging to her tightly. 

“I’m sorry. I can get over it, I promise. I just needed to tell you. I’ve never kept anything from you before. It was killing me, but I can get over it, Jordie, I promise-” 

“Hey, hey, hey, no-” Jordan’s turning you to look at her suddenly. “Don’t fucking… I’m not… I’m not mad at you or fucking… gonna leave you, Y/N. What the fuck? I love you.”

You could start crying from the relief of hearing those words come from her lips again. You thought she wouldn’t ever speak to you again. She grabs you by the chin and kisses you, hard, your teeth clink together and your noses mush and you go completely still and frozen, like a scared deer. 

“I could see the words not fucking register in your brain the way I meant them. I am in love with you. Romantically.” Jordan barely pulls away, you feel her lips brush against yours, every other word. 

“What?” 

Jordan laughs, “Good, now you’re just as confused as I fucking was. Why the fuck wouldn’t I want you? I’ve always wanted you. You’re…you.” 

“I’m me?” You echo. 

“I didn’t…. I didn’t want to make you feel… like everyone else has. Like I was just fucking waiting around for a chance to date you. Or fuck you. As if your friendship doesn’t fucking matter. Or was a consolation prize, if I couldn’t get you to date me. It isn’t a consolation prize. It’s the most important thing to me in the fucking world.” Jordan laughs, and the sound is suspiciously choked up. 

“Oh.” You say, and are crying. Again. Jordan laughs and wipes the tears away with her thumb. 

“But what about when we started having sex? You still… never touched me when you’re like this.” 

“You’ve never said anything about liking girls.” Jordan says quietly.

“You’re not just a girl. You’re the girl. And guy. ” You say, holding her hand against your face and kissing her palm fiercely. She laughs again, and puts her forehead against yours. 

“So what? I’m the one girl you’re into?” Jordan raises a brow and doesn’t look very happy saying the words, oddly enough. 

You tilt your head trying to puzzle out why, slowly, you arrive at a conclusion. “I literally talk about girls all the time.” 

“When?!” 

“I’m constantly pointing out pretty ones!” You snap. 

“I thought you were just being sweet!” Jordan snaps back. 

You close your eyes and breathe in the smell of her cologne. 

“You make me so angry I don’t know how to think.” You say, and kiss her bottom lip softly. “You’re not an… experiment, if that’s what you’re asking. You’re the…” You trail off, realizing this is not one of your romantic daydreams where you’ve thought of the words you’d tell Jordan over and over again. 

In real life you can’t tell people that they’re the love of your life if you aren’t their girlfriend. Unless you want to look crazy.

Jordan, who is your best friend, before she’s anything else, melts. Because she knows you well enough to know what you aren’t saying.

“Yeah.” Jordan nods, sniffling once and trying to look very tough even though her lip is quivering a little. “I… I love you too. Or whatever.” 

“If it makes you feel better I’ve slept with other women before, to make sure I wasn’t just in love with you.” 

“Weird fucking thing to tell me after I say I love you, but go off.” She glares at you. 

“I think you could do with feeling a little jealous. Why am I hearing stories about how good you are at fucking other women while I’m trying to piss at Vought Burger in peace?” 

“What?” Jordan’s brow furrows. 

“Three weeks ago I heard-”

“-I fucking knew you’ve been mad at me!” Jordan grabs your waist, pulling you closer.

“You would have been pissed too, if you heard the shit I was hearing!” 

“If I hear anyone talking about fucking you ever again I’m going to go to prison.”

“Hot.” 

“Shut up and be my girlfriend.”

“Shut up and be my everything.” 

“You’re gross.” But she kisses you, and it’s gentle, and no one else is there to see it. 

And it’s perfect.

A/N: this is my first time doing full on smut for a fic! it beat me the fuck up. if you enjoyed this fic consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anon! a writers fuel is engagement. and this fic took too damn long to write. xoxoxo

Oh my goodness finally someone who wants to write for Gen v 😛😛 I was wondering If you could write about a really clingy reader ? Like when they went to that party in the first ep, and the reader was just clinging onto Jordan

YES ABSOLUTELY OH MY GOD. Also, apologies if this is a little skewed I've only watched episode 1 like once so far and only remember a few things AAAA.

Clingy

Jordan Li x Reader

SUMMARY: you were never one for parties, and Jordan knew that well. When you agreed to go with her this time, though, she wasn't at all surprised when you clung to them the entire night.

WARNINGS: Gen V spoilers, swearing, major fluff, drugs

----------------------------------------------------------

When it came to parties, you would rather stay in your dorm room and read a book. Which was ironic, since your partner and their friends did it on a nightly basis.

But when you had heard from Andre that he invited Marie Moreau (one of the newest freshmen to join Godolkin), you decided, "why not?" As it was a good chance to meet the girl.

So, when you found yourself in Jordan's room like usual, with her arm wrapped around your waist, body pulled close, you decided to drop what you thought was surprising news.

"I think I wanna go to tonight's party." You said, turning your head to look at them.

Jordan smirked, eyebrows furrowing together in curiosity, "oh really? Didn't take you as the party type."

You rolled your eyes, nudging her in playful annoyance as you yanked her arm off of your waist.

"Hey!" They wined, putting their arm back around but you didn't protest, only huffing at them to ensure that you were upset at their reaction (you weren't).

"I thought you'd be more surprised." You sighed, turning your body towards them as you looked down. She chuckled lightly, sitting up with you but keeping her arm around your waist.

"Why would i be surprised? You're practically attached to my hip like, all the time." She snickered.

"Yeah, but never at the parties." You shrug.

"That's because you hate people. And the whole drug thing." They pointed out with a small laugh.

"Okay, well, I'm still going."

"Good."

"Great!"

----------------------------------------------------------

As you made your way to the top of the Seven tower, you made sure to stick to Jordan's side the entire time.

And of course, Cate, Andre, and Jordan went straight for the things that get you high as fuck, snorting it right up their nostrils.

And look, it's not that you didn't WANT to do that stuff with them, it's just that you couldn't.

Here comes the irony again with the fact that your parents pumped you full of a drug when you were a baby, but whatever.

As you clung to Jordan's side, with their arm wrapped tightly around your waist as they laughed along with their friends, you watched Luke as he made his way over to Marie.

She was a nice girl, as far as you could tell. The two of you had exchanged hi's and names, a bright smile on the girl's face the entire time. You would have talked with her more had she stayed with the group, but you understood.

Your head laid against your partner's shoulder as you sighed, knowing that this was only the beginning of the party.

---------------------------------------------------------

...and you were correct!

Soon enough the six of you had entered a club, Cate taking one of her gloves off and using her powers of persuasion against the host guy that had asked for a reservation from them (to which they did not have).

Looking back at Marie as you gor dragged along by Jordan, you could see the amazement on her face at Cate's actions.

"Dont worry, you're gonna see that more often, and soon enough it won't be as impressive." You joked, saying it loud enough for Cate to hear through the crowd.

She turned around, her eyebrows furrowed, "Hey, I heard that!" She grinned.

You nodded, "you were supposed to, Cate." You chuckled, causing the rest of the group to erupt in a wave of chuckles as well as you were led to a table.

As you all sat down, Marie took notice of your clinginess with Jordan, "Is she always attached to you like that?" She asked them as Andre took out a small baggy of molly, Jordan immediately snatching it from his hands as he grinned.

Cate answered the question for Jordan, "yes, yes she is. She won't admit it but one second away from Jordan, and she is WORRIED. She's clingy because she has attachment issues." She smirked.

You rolled your eyes, "I do not have attachment issues, Cate. I just hate being without her for too long. It's called being clingy." You respond snarkily as you pressed closer to them.

Marie held in her laugh as she noticed the baggy, "is that cocaine?" She asked.

"We finished all the coke," Jordan began as he opened up the baggy, "this is molly."

"Hey, I don't really fuck with powders, but.." Luke pulls out a baggy from his pocket, waving it at Marie, "I do microdose shrooms."

"So, what do ya say, freshman?" Jordan smirks, their arm moving to their girlfriend's shoulder as Andre waves the baggy of molly at Marie.

Marie looks around at all of them, you seeming to be the only one other than her not interested in the drugs, "Uh...no thank you."

After some persuasion from Cate, and a little nod of reassurance from you, Marie took the jump and took some of the molly, the group cheering as she does.

"Cmon, let's dance!" Cate exclaims as she drags Marie off to the dance floor, leaving the other three at the table.

"See? I told you." Andre said, looking towards the couple beside him.

"Yeah, super nice." You smiled, picking up Jordan's drink and taking a sip from it.

You weren't much for alcohol, but you thought that tonight was special enough.

--------------------------------------------------------

You and Jordan had split from the two boys for a bit, coming back from wherever you had gone and nodding at people that you passed by.

You clung to Jordan's arm, and just as the two of you passed the doorway back to the main room, Jordan felt comfortable enough to change.

"Oh, my girl's back~" you purred jokingly, "oh, how I missed you~"

Jordan rolled her eyes at you and laughed lightly, "you're so lucky I love you."

You smiled at them, "oh, boy do i know it."

As you joined the boys back at the table, you were now accompanied by two more trays of drinks (courtesy of you and Jordan).

"There she is." Luke greeted as the two sat down.

"You changed. Why?" Andre questioned.

"Because I fucking felt like it." Jordan responded as they felt you snuggle into their side, and you tuned out the rest of their conversation.

----------------------------------------------------------

Eventually your group had split up, the drugs and alcohol finally taking into affect.

Luke was somewhere near the bathrooms, Cate and Marie were still enjoying themselves on the dance floor, and Andre had endulged himself with the flirting activity at the bar area.

Jordan had somehow convinced you to join her on the dance floor, the two of you absolutely not following the beat as you slow danced to the club songs.

Your enjoyment was ended when screams erupted from the bar area, and suddenly you found yourself getting dragged out of the club by Jordan, Luke, Andre, and Cate joining you both.

As you passed the bar area you had noticed the woman bleeding to death on the ground, and Marie standing there.

You tried to call her name, to get her to follow you and the rest of the group, but your calls were drowned out by the rest of the crowd.

Who knew the day you decided to be extra clingy would end up a very messy and bloody night.

----------------------------------------------------------

RAAAGGEEEE THE FIRST DRAFT DIDNT SAVE 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

the ending is a little different and a bit quicker than I had planned and I am so sorry for that but I hope you enjoyed <33333

And yes I did in fact lie when I said I didn't have access to prime video I'm just a little stupid Ok.

where's all the jordan li fics :(

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in your head, on your mind // Jordan Li x Reader, Part 1

i know i haven't posted in like a year, and this is a huge shift from my usual writing, but i cannot express how jordan li has captured my heart and soul. this is definitely going to be a good number of parts, and will also definitely have some smut in there.

word count: 1912

previous part // next part

The Lamplighter School of Crimefighting is your home away from home on the GodU campus. Being Professor Caldwin’s TA is almost a full-time job, and in addition to classes and training and homework, most days you are in Caldwin’s office more than your own dorm room. Not that you mind, really. It’s the sort of job that will really set you up later in life - Caldwin knows everyone - and anything is better than listening to your roommate try and go viral on TikTok for the 30,000th time. And Caldwin’s a nice guy, in his own way.

“L/N.” The gruff call from his actual office resounds over the little foyer your desk sits in. 

Scooting back from your seat, you get up and walk the few steps between your desk and the doorway, hovering at the frame. “Professor?”

Caldwin sits at his own desk - a big, antique wooden thing that’s probably older than anything else in this building - hunched over in front of a desktop computer that’s far too sleek looking for the desk it sits on. Frustration radiates out from him like rays of the sun. Stupid fucking computer… swear they make these things difficult for people my age on purpose… snippets of his thoughts play in your mind without prompting - your superpower passively picking up his most prominent feelings. Of course, if you wanted, you could really focus and read his mind fully (even talk to him telepathically), but that was a boundary you’d promised yourself you wouldn’t cross. He is your professor - and boss - after all. 

Peering over the top of his glasses, Caldwin blinks at you, gathering a stack of papers to his left. “Bring these over to Brink, will you? If he’s busy you can just leave them with his TA, it’s nothing classified.”

You step into his Caldwin’s office fully, and take the stack of papers from him. It’s a hefty thing, so you tuck it under your arm. “Will do.”

“And while you’re out and about, get me another cup of coffee from the staff room. Two sugars-”

“Two sugars, two pumps of hazelnut, one splash of cream.” You say, already heading out the door. You’ve had his coffee order down since he hired you at the beginning of your sophomore year. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Thank you.” Gonna take a hammer to this stupid fucking-

His thoughts cut off abruptly as you walk out of range, heading into the halls of the Crimefighting building. Students fill the space, coming and going from classes, sitting in the chairs near the floor to ceiling windows busy on their laptops, loitering around as they chat with their friends. You purposefully focus on your own goal - Brink’s office, and then the staff break room to make Caldwin another coffee - to force the cacophony of thoughts down. The audible chatter, in addition to the telepathic noise, would have been enough to make you scream a few years ago, but classes at GodU have lived up to your expectations - they’re hard, but worth it, to get your power under control.

Brink’s office is across the building from Caldwin’s, a more luxurious room with lots of natural light and a good view of the campus green. You’d only really ever been in there on Caldwin’s instructions - Brink had only been your professor once, your freshman year, and you’d been too scared of his reputation to actually go to his office hours. Still, it was easy to find, and when you tried the door, it was open. 

The foyer of Brink’s office is much larger than the space in Caldwin’s and you find yourself a little jealous - it would be nice to sit at a desk here. You look first to the doors leading into his actual office, and find them closed. You turn to the figure sitting at the desk, and ask, “Is Brink busy right now? I have papers from Caldwin for him.”

The girl at the desk - pretty, with stark black hair that just reached her jaw and big brown doe eyes - just stares at you for a moment before responding. “Yeah, he’s on a call, actually.” Her voice is smooth, a little deep, and not what you expected at all. 

“Oh, alright, I can just-” You start, only to be interrupted by a wave of lust.

Goddamn. Smash. The things I wouldn’t do to get between those legs… wow. Those legs. How have I not run into YOU before? I mean really, surely I would have noticed the hottest person alive on campus - especially here, in my goddamn department. Fuck. 

Whatever you were expecting, it wasn’t that. You balk. “Um. Sorry. Yeah, it’s not anything classified so Caldwin said I could just leave it with you,” You untuck the stack from under your arm and pass it towards Brink’s TA. Her fingers brush over yours as she takes it, and for a split second, you can feel just how much you were affecting her - the wave of horniness hit you like a bus. The feeling lingers as you take your hand away, and you’re unable to tell if it’s leftover from her or your own reaction. Maybe a bit of both. 

She sets the papers down on her desk beside her without looking, too busy smiling at you. “I’m Jordan, by the way.” She says. “I take it your Caldwin’s TA?”

“Yeah.” You say. “Y/N.”

Y/N. That’s a nice name. Very screamable. 

You fight the urge to do anything but smile. Just looking at her, you would have never guessed such wanton thoughts would come from such a tiny girl, but never judge a book by its cover, right?

“Nice to meet you Jordan.” You continue, careful to keep your voice steady, even. Casual. Not like you can hear every piece of want cross her mind. 

I bet you’d sound good screaming my name. I need to stop - I don’t even know you. I need to get laid, my god. Down tremendous and I JUST learned your name. 

The image of you and Jordan together - tangled up in unfamiliar bedsheets, Jordan’s mouth latched onto your neck as you moaned in pleasure - crosses Jordan’s mind, and yours by extent. For, as she said, having just met you, it was a surprisingly good imaginary version of yourself. Though, she is looking right at you. It would be hard to get any details wrong when you were standing right there. 

Would you let me? Maybe if I was in the other form-

Before you had time to wonder what that meant, she’s changing before your eyes, rearranging skin and bone until an entirely different person is sitting at the desk. A man - taller, broader, but just as pretty and with the same big brown eyes. Your surprise must have shown on your face, because Jordan laughs, a smile stretching across their face. 

“Sorry.” They say, leaning forward to rest their elbows against the desk. “It’s just that I have two faces, so I didn’t want you to get confused if some random dude was waving at you cause I forgot you only met me as a girl.”

“That’s a pretty cool power.” You say, and then, with your mind, “And a pretty good reason to show it off. I mean, for something you came up with on the fly anyway.”

You watch their eyes widen as they realize that you’re in their head, and then their cheeks flush red as they remember what they were thinking about not moments before. “So you’ve just been hearing-?”

“Yeah.” You say..

“I am so sorry-” They start, shifting back into their female form. 

“No, it’s okay.” You say, a laugh on the edge of your lips. “I promise it’s fine, I mean, you didn’t know I was listening in and it’s your thoughts you can’t like, help it. And it’s not the first time-”

I bet, looking like that. Fuck. Pretend I didn’t think that. I’m sorry. Jordan buries their head in their hands with a groan. “Sorry.”

You let out a full laugh at that. “It’s okay, I promise. Please don’t beat yourself up about it, it’s fine. It’s flattering, if anything. I mean, you’re pretty good looking yourself. Not that you’re only hot, I mean - I’m sure you’re nice too.” You pause. “That came out a little wrong.”

Jordan smiles. “It’s okay. I mean, you basically get a free pass to do whatever you want to be since I’ve been…” They trail off. In their mind, …objectifying you. I’d let you do whatever you wanted to me anyway, but… fuck. Sorry.

You smile again. “It’s okay. Promise.” You lean forward across the desk a little, getting closer without getting too close - you have just met after all. The smell of smokey cologne fills your nose, and causes more butterflies to swirl in your stomach. They really are hot. “You wanna know a secret?”

Jordan leans in too. “Sure.”

“Most guys, when they figure out that I can hear them lusting after me, aren't even apologetic.” You say. “So it’s sweet that you are. Charming, even.” It’s true - which is why you don’t usually bother playing into people’s lustful thoughts, but Jordan… 

Okay. Okay, it’s not a big deal, it’s fine. “Would you want to hang out?” Jordan says, a little rushed, like they’d been waiting for an opportunity. “Sometime? We could train, or something…” Please say yes. You don’t have to say yes. I really want you to though.

You think about it for a moment. You don't usually say yes to these kinds of questions, especially after hearing the person's ulterior motives, but… Jordan seems nice, nice enough to genuinely feel bad about their thoughts once they realized you could hear them. And they are hot, objectively, in both forms. 

“Yeah, I’d be down to hang out.” You say, reaching into the pocket of your jeans to pull out your phone. “Can I-?”

“Yes. Yeah.” Jordan pulls their own phone out clumsily, handing it to you. 

You put your number in with a smile, and take the liberty to add a little emoji heart at the end of your name before you hand it back to them. “Should I text you, or are you going to text me?”

I don’t think I could stop myself if I tried. “I’ll text you.” Jordan says, glancing down at their phone. “A heart?”

“You don’t think so?”

No, no. No it’s great, I'm never going to change it. “A little fast, no?” They say. 

You smile, and inject your voice into their head. Liar. I’ll see you later Jordan. 

Before they can say anything else, you turn and leave, throwing one last glance at them over your shoulder. They don’t even try to pretend that they aren’t staring. 

Butterflies swarm your stomach as you make your way back through the halls. You can’t remember the last time being in someone’s head made you like them more rather than less, but Jordan… sweet, apologetic Jordan. It’s exciting, in a way, knowing what they were thinking about you, and knowing that despite the fact that you know, they still want to hang out. You check your phone, even though it’s not even been a minute since you left. Sure enough, a text-

what are you doing tmrw from like 2-4

You type out your reply: hanging out w u probably

You almost forget to get Caldwin’s coffee on the way back. 

new obsession= no more writers block