#jordan li x reader
Text
Third Time's the Charm
Request: Hii,if your request are still open can i request something for Gen V?Can you write something where Jordan and fem reader are childhood best friends and Jordan had always been in love with her but they feel insecure because they don’t know if reader will like them in both forms romantically?So when,in ep 3,Jordan dad goes like “Y/n and Jordan will be husband and wife” reader goes “Maybe we will be wife and wife”because she loves Jordan just like they are?
AN: Reader wants to be the first supe president (just to explain why they’re at the gala), I changed the timeline of the ep a tiny bit. I have another request about meeting Jordan's parents but that one might be more angsty.
CW: fem!reader, kissing, no beta, Jordan's parents are just their warning. The start is all flashbacks so I may have slipped on the tense a few times, no beta
WC: 2.0K
Jordan Li was your first kiss. Twice. The first time was in kindergarten, when they tried to kiss you and you smacked them with your Queen Mauve lunch box. Your second first kiss (the one you consider your actual first kiss) was done by you while playing truth or dare at 14. After picking a dare, you were asked to kiss the best-looking guy in the group. You shrugged and picked your best friend - Jordan.
At age six, they were there when you broke your ankle trying to see if you could fly (you couldn’t). When you did get powers, they were the first person you told.
When Jordan came out to you as bigender, you did an internet deep-dive, trying to understand as much as possible.
Jordan listened to every interaction you had with your high school crush while quietly dying inside, wanting you to be happy. When your high school boyfriend cheated on you and then dumped you for the girl he cheated with, Jordan was there, ready to sink hours into their Xbox to keep you distracted.
The worst week of your life was when you didn't speak to Jordan for 9 whole days. You got into a petty argument where you called them self-absorbed and they called you clingy. The fight snowballed into yelling arguments and ended with you receiving a cold shoulder from Jordan.
When Jordan got their wisdom teeth removed, you camped out in their room, snuggled under their duvet with them to watch Property Brothers for two days straight. You even made sure they took their painkillers on time and used ice packs.
Every fight with their parents, you were outside in your car ready to pick up Jordan to stay with you. Once you showed up at their house at 6:03 am, eyes blurry with sleep and still in pyjamas. Jordan was crying, bob haircut looked messy from sleep. You drove them to Vought-A-Burger, still half asleep and ate greasy breakfast sandwiches in your car until Jordan stopped crying.
Jordan was even your date to prom, taking photos with you in their masculine form to get their parents off their back. Once their parents were happy, you snuck them back to yours, where you stashed their prom dress.
You both even applied to God U together. Too nervous to check your acceptance, Jordan checked yours and you checked theirs. Sitting across from each other on your bed you both log in before giving the laptops to each other.
“Okay, three, two, one…” you counted down, opening Jordan’s laptop. Your eyes scanned for any promising words like congratulations, or welcome. "Accepted" was the first word your eyes caught but you need to fuck with them.
“Jord… I’m so sorry.” You start. Their face falls, and you feel like a dick for doing this. But the opportunity is too good to pass up. “That you believed me! Because you got in!”
They lunged across your bed to see what the screen says. You saw Jordan's eyes scan the same letter you just read, picking out the same words.
“You’re such an asshole!” they told you, rolling their eyes, gently hitting your arm with the back of their hand
You’ve never been shy about showering Jordan with compliments. Saved in screenshots never to see the light of day, Jordan has kept some of them.
You: OMG!!! Jordan you’re so pretty. I’m so lucky to call you my friend.
You: You’re so handsome!!! I love your hair slicked back! If she doesn’t agree you need to drop her.
You: ur a solid 9/10. Lost a point for not giving me a sip of your drink yesterday lol
Jordan Li has been in love with you since age 16. Probably earlier, if they want to admit that to themselves. You’ve only ever expressed interest in men so they kept their feelings to themselves, not wanting to make you uncomfortable, figuring it was better to have you as a friend only than not at all.
In your first year, you were even roommates. While Jordan flourished in crim, you bounced between majors before settling into politics.
Every time you brought some frat guy to your shared dorm, Jordan died inside. Trying to get over their long-standing crush, Jordan did the same.
When Jordan made number 2 on the top five, you celebrate with them. Maybe a bit too hard that night.
You were there when their ranking dropped after the death of Brink. A man you only met twice, but you would do anything for Jordan. Especially given how hard you fell for both versions of them last year.
“I’m going to try to tag team with your dad, get some points for you and keep him engaged, yeah?” You ask over your shocker. Jordan is behind you, ready to help with zipper duty for your dress.
“You don’t have to.”
You let out a small scoff. “Dude. I’m doing poli supe. Schmoozing with rich people is like half our courses. Zip me up please.”
“How long have you known Jordan? You seem to be a good couple.” The man you and Jordan's dad suckered into a conversation asks. He's sitting beside Jordan's parents, while you and Jordan are on the edge of some fancy pit or table.
“Well, these two have known each other pretty well over the years. Jordan tried to kiss her when they were kids, and she hit him with her Black Noir lunch box.”
“It was a Queen Mauve lunch box, actually.” You say with a laugh.
“And she called him ‘Jojo’ for probably the next two years out of spite.” Kayla laughs. It's a special embarrassment when your parents tell stories about your childhood. All the stories are about you but it's been so long ago you can’t remember any of it. Jordan looks worse off, slouchy posture against the banister, while you sit next to him. Part of you wants to tell him to sit up straight, but you figure you can play the grief angle better this way.
“Oh, and remember when Jordan got his wisdom teeth out? You guys were inseparable. I think I still have the photo of you two passed out watching TV!” Kayla gushes, reaching for her phone to find the photo.
“We all thought you two would be president and First Gentleman.” Dad insists. Your smile is fake and tight, knowing if Paul pulls out prom photos, you would have to quietly fling yourself out of a window.
Maybe you drank a bit too much liquid courage. Maybe the tension between them and their parents was getting to you. To give Jordan some space, you took their parents for a tour of your classes, knowing they’ll be talking to your family when they go back to Rochester.
Jordan shifting doesn’t even cause you to raise an eyebrow, the subtle sound just blurs into the background.
“Or president and First Lady.” You blurt out, four pairs of eyes darting towards you. “First supes in the Whitehouse? It would be political dynamite.”
“You like this version of Jordan?” Dad asks with bewilderment.
“Of course. I like Jordan because of how smart and driven they are. I like Jordan because of their weird sense of humour. It doesn’t matter what they look like.” you say, trying to prove it to their parents, but also to them. You’ve picked up on their crush many times, too kind to say something that would embarrass them or hurt them. It’s only recently how much you found yourself staring at fem Jordan and wanting to kiss her too.
“I’m going to go and mingle some more.” says the man, Brad or Rob maybe. You forgot his name right after you met him. His words are like a bucket of cold water was dumped over you. You don’t confess your feelings to Jordan just to Jordan, but in front of their judgy parents, and a possible donner. You need to go.
You stand and straighten out your dress.
“I’m going to go too. Other donors to talk to. Go Jordan!" You finish with an awkward laugh and even more cringy go team! gesture by yourself.
You didn't lie to Jordan and their parents. You did go and talk to other donors but it twists your stomach every time you bring up how amazing their grades are, or how skillful they are at fighting. After donor number three gives you an answer that technically was “we’ll see” but heavily implied to be "yes for Jordan” you went to hide in the bathroom. You have enough battery left on your V-phone to keep it going for most of the night. Tomorrow you can talk to Jordan and hope you don’t fuck it all up.
You barely look up when the door opens, already have done too much for the day to care who it is.
‘Hey, can we talk?” You snap to attention at the voice. Of course, you know that voice. It's Jordan, still feminine presenting.
“Fuck, Jord, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have spring that on you. I promise I’ll just go back and try to get you some votes, you’re going through a lot.” You say, in a rush to get the words out, desperate not to fuck up you’re friendship. The rim of the sink is hard against your back but you can’t help but shrink into it.
“Did you mean it?” They ask, still keeping a distance from you.
“Yeah, of course, I don’t want to ruin this friendship.”
“No, what you said in front of my parents.”
Oh right. Your confession. Fuck. It's already out there, might as well keep it going.
“I may, uh-” you curse yourself for leaving your drink outside the bathroom, wanting something in your hands to stall. “-have a crush. On you. My best friend.” You twist your hands together, wishing Jordan didn’t look so pretty. If your heart beats any faster you may go into cardiac arrest.
It's Jordan that indicates your third first kiss. It's gentle, and fast, like the second one. She pulls back quickly, but you run your fingers through her hair and pull her closer. The intensity from the first first kiss is still there, only this time you both share it. Her hand smooths up to your face, thumb stroking your cheek in a silent invitation to open your mouth. You comply, and tilt your head into her palm. Her tongue sweeps into your mouth and you can taste the champagne they were drinking.
The sound of the door opening makes you both jump.
“Stall?” You ask, voice low and hushed. You squirm out from where she has you between the sink and her. You push the door open to the nicest-looking stall, desperate to keep kissing Jordan. They follow your lead eagerly, one hand wrapped around your shoulder to keep you near.
Dipping their head, they softly kiss your jaw before moving onto your neck. You silently thank the other two women arguing in the bathroom so that your gasp goes unnoticed. Giving Jordan's hair a small tug, you pull them back up to you. The shit-eating grin they flash you makes you want to almost get caught again.
Your free hand moves to their waist, trying to get as close to them as physically possible.
You pull back slightly, wanting so desperately to get lost in the moment, but the commotion in the other stall is distracting. Plus you’re nosey.
Jordan frowns when you pull away, eyes scanning your face for something they did wrong. You shake your head and tip it over to the stall.
“The fuck?” They mouth to you, hand still around your shoulder.
You gently push Jordan against the door to give yourself space to squat down. You see two pairs of feet in the stall across the wall. You hear the voices quiet down, before the sound of someone peeing. You frown slightly, weird fetish to do at a memorial gala but you hear rumours about students into more fucked up shit.
“We should get outta here.” You whisper to Jordan.
“Weird place for our third first kiss.” Jordan whispers back. You reach around them to unlock the stall door. Third first kiss. You replay the words in your head, a warm feeling blooming in your chest.
You gently push them out of the stall, trying to keep your laughs quiet as you both scurry past the other couple in the stall.
#I read it once for spelling and flow then released it to the world#jordan li x reader#jordan li x y/n#jordan li imagine#gen v x reader#gen v x y/n#gen v imagine#whew this got out of hand#time to talk about jordan
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
I’ve seen your reblog ‘“i’ve been thinking about you all day” as they’re filling your pussy’ and I was wondering if it was okay to request this with Jordan Li (established relationship)
NIGHTS LIKE THESE
pairing: jordan li x (f)reader
contents: foreplay, p in v, oral, this is very soft, it’s basically fluff with smut, both of their presenting forms involved, everyone is love sick and clingy idk | wc: 860
note: they're everything to me!! i have something much longer in the works for them but i needed to write something quick and yearny.
Your wrists are pinned above your head, their fingers twined with yours as they hold you in place, as if you’d ever escape them, leave them, or try to.
As if you could go anywhere with their body pressed against yours and their hips moving between your thighs.
Slow thrusts that make you feel every inch of them moving inside of you. Fucking you at that languid pace that comes from the frustration of long days and the yearning that pricks at one’s heart from being separated for too long.
Course work and keeping your rankings are chores in and of themselves, but living up to the expectations it sets is even harder. So if a day goes by and Jordan can’t have you pressed up against them, at their side, or at the very least your nose in your test books laying against the other sprawled on their bed, each of you doing your own thing: their day just doesn't feel right.
Doesn’t feel normal if they can’t pull you to the side in the hall and press a kiss on your lips.
Can’t get the death glare you always give them when they forget to eat lunch because they were too busy helping Brink, and you surprise them with dinner and dessert—the dessert usually forgotten and turns into you between their legs or vice versa.
Their days aren’t normal unless you’re in them.
They haven’t felt normal since the two of you decided to try this. To be together.
“You’ve rewired me,” they mumble against your shoulder as the two of you try to fall asleep one night. The clock on your nightstand glowing 1:00AM in big, haunting letters. Your night supposed to be spent working, but there are only so many sneaking glances and innocent touches against skin before you are both done pretending you want to do anything besides have the other naked and against you all day.
And you know that they’ve rewired you too.
Made the fucked up in your life a little less fucked, made the days easier to endure when there’s the constant pressure of greatness looming over you.
You could crash and burn, and you know you’d still have their support, just as they would have yours. And that’s a higher score than rankings could ever give you.
It’s rare the two of you will go a day without seeing each other, without ending up pressed together in bed—weed filled lungs laughing until the haze lolls you to sleep and you’re waking the next morning to Jordan’s alarm clock and the shifting groan of both their forms pulling their pillow over their head. Pulling you back down into bed when you actually do something crazy like get up and not lay with them for five more minutes.
But nights like these make up for days when you are both swamped and Brink needs Jordan for something, and you are stuck alone with your nose in a book or forcing Marie and Emma to get Vought A Burger with you.
Nights where there’s no rush. No need to go fast and get off as many times as your body aches for—as many times as the other wants to swallow and taste the pleasure each time you come against them, on top of them, or inside of you. Like you’re both dying of thirst, and only the others come will do.
These nights are slow. Savored. Like you’ve been away at war rather than occupied over a span of twenty four hours.
Jordan kisses you achingly slowly these nights. Let’s their tongue linger in your mouth for longer than normal, nipping at your bottom lip with gentle teeth. Their fingers stripping you of your clothes like they need to press their lips to every bit of skin they free.
And when their tongue finally makes contact with your pussy it feels like you can finally breathe. Like you’ve been holding your breath for days—all night—for them to finally soothe the ache that they’ve caused.
Their hips buck against the air when you switch positions, and your tongue presses between their thighs. A slow tease of teeth and tongue tracing down their hip bones until you’ve reached where they’re soaked, or hard for you.
Neither of you letting the other come until Jordan is inside of you.
Until you’re both sighing from that first initial push inside, the head of their cock easily fills you with how wet you are—how wet they’ve made you. Gasps breathed into mouths from that first slow roll of their hips.
It’s heady and fucking torturous, and you love it.
You both do.
“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” they murmur against your lips. Their fingers flexing against yours as they keep them above your head, as they completely take control of your body and show you just what they’ve been thinking about. “You take up every part of my brain, and it’s a problem, but I fucking love it.” They moan into your mouth; roll their hips in that way that has air whooshing from your lungs and your pelvis pushing up to drive them deeper.
#jordan li x reader#jordan li x you#jordan li smut#gen v fic#jordan li imagine#gen v fanfic#jordan li fic#jordan li fanfic#jordan li x y/n#gen v smut#jordan li
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
as you wish - j.l
wc: 1.5k
a/n: down horrendous for jordan i’m going through it
warning: 18+ smut, swearing
you were jordan’s favourite thing in the world and they would do anything for you. so when you first got together and you wanted to take things slow, it wasn’t an issue.
but then four months passed, five months, six months and the most the two of you have done was dry hump. jordan would never rush you or push you into having sex but they wanted you, all of you, so bad and they were losing their mind with lust.
what jordan didn’t know was that you were just as horny as them. you constantly thought about how good it would feel to have their head in between your thighs but you were nervous, that’s what it all boiled down to.
jordan had mentioned previous partners, a couple fuckbuddies and one serious relationship, which you didn’t mind because of course people wanted them, how could they not?
you, on the other hand, have had zero sexual experience, the kind that actually matters when you enter university and kissing a classmate behind a bush when you were 11 doesn’t count in your books.
so month after month you held off on having sex with jordan because you were unsure of what to do but your desire for jordan has now outgrown your silly little fear.
you sat alone in jordan’s room as they finished their last class of the day. you had plans later that evening with some friends to catch a movie but until then you decided to kill some time by reading in jordan’s room since it has the best natural lighting.
you were so immersed in your book, you didn’t notice jordan come in until the bed dipped and they were kissing your neck.
“oh hello,” you said bringing a hand into their hair as they smushed their face into your neck.
“sorry, you just look so good on my bed reading… the secret diary of anne boleyn?” they asked peering into your lap where the book laid faced down.
“leave me alone, you know how much love history!” you chuckled as jordan sat against thier headboard and pulled you into their lap.
now straddling them, you toyed with the back of their necklace as they peered into your eyes.
“what?” you said in a hushed tone.
“nothing, you just have really pretty eyes,” jordan continued to stare into you with their intoxicating eyes. you started to get shy under their gaze so you broke it by leaning in for a soft kiss.
there couldn’t be a more perfect moment than this one. it felt like the two of you were the only ones in the world. you often felt that way with them but today was different.
“jordan, i-i think I’m ready,”
it took a second for what you said to register with jordan but once it did, their eyes widen a little.
“are you sure?”
you nod in confirmation. “i want to have sex.”
that statement went straight to their dick making it twitch in their pants.
“say that again,” they said as they moved you off their lap and onto the bed hovering over you.
“please fuck me,” you said grabbing their neck and kissing them with a certain passion. jordan had found a comfortable spot between your legs.
“as you wish,” they whispered as they bucked their hip into yours.
you lifted their sweater a little, hands roaming their flat and hardened chest, before jordan took it off completely. you held yourself of using your forearms and enjoyed the view. you’ve seen jordan shirtless plenty of times but knowing they were going to fuck you in a few minutes made the view so much better.
“i think you’re wearing too many layers,” they smirked which prompted you to take off your shirt and bra with no hesitation.
“you’re so fucking gorgeous,” they muttered before encapsulating a nipple into their mouth. a sinful noise left you as their tongue expertly swirled around your breast. their hand showed the other the same amount of attention, rolling the nipple between the pads of their fingers.
impatience got the better of you and before you knew it, you took jordan’s hand brought it down to your core making them cup you. jordan lifts their eyes up at you and you nod. you moved your hands down your body slipping of your jeans and panties along with with it. jordan’s fingers ran through the wetness that had built up, a moan echoed around the room as they circled your clit slowly.
“i’m going to take such good care of you babe, just relax,” jordan whispered in between kisses.
you listened to them, focusing on the feeling of their fingers now teasing your entrance.
“please, please just fuck me,” you begged, making them slip a finger into you, your hands moved to hold onto their back as they gradually increased their pace of thrusting their finger into you, making you moan their name.
“fuck,” you groaned, throwing your head back as they curled both inside you before kissing your lips one last time and making their way down your body once again.
you watched with lust-filled eyes as they kissed down your stomach and hovered over your core, hot breath fanning over your dripping centre.
“is this ok?” they asked kissing your inner thighs, you hastily replied with a breathy ‘yes’ to make them continue. their mouth soon sucked on your clit, back arching and an even louder moan erupting from the back of your throat while they ate you.
with the feeling of them pumping their fingers inside you, combined with their tongue swirling around your clit and them moaning against your core at the taste, it didn't take long for you to reach your orgasm.
“uuuh, jordan!” you yelled out, a rush of euphoria washing over you. you shook as you came down and jordan came back up you body. their face covered in your juices and you felt almost embarrassed.
“look at you,” you laughed hiding your face behind your hands.
jordan shook their heads, “don’t be embarrassed. that was the hottest shit i’ve ever seen.”
they slowly removed your hands from you face and kissed you sloppily. you definitely tasted yourself on their face.
“see? you taste so good,” they smiled smugly.
with a quiet laugh, you pulled them down for a full kiss, tongue immediately pushing into their mouth as they echo your laughter.
it quickly turns into a moan, as does yours when they grind their hips into you before they reluctantly tear themselves away, a small smirk appearing on their face.
jordan unbuckled his belt getting rid of his jeans and reached over you to grab a condom from their nightstand drawer.
“so just have those in there?” you asked eyeing the the small plastic squares.
“bought them a month ago. i was feeling hopeful,” they responded sheepishly which made you laugh a little.
“presumptuous… but safe. i’ll let it go for now.” you watched as they sit back on to their heels to slide it on.
they are sweet with the way they checked in with you again, hand returning to your cheek. they smile when their fingers run over your lips. you nod, quietly giving your consent once more, and they help you to spread your legs wider so that they could fully lay between them.
they dragged their cock through your folds, catching your earlier orgasm on the tip to slick the way, and with a deep breath, they pushed in.
touching jordan this way, feeling them this way, is something you've been thinking about since the first time they kissed you.
they were sweet in the way that they went slow as they patiently waited for you to adjust and feel comfortable, and it's not long before they’re completely inside you.
they leaned down to kiss you, lips caressed yours softly at first before it shifted into something a little more heated, more passionate.
"you're doing so well for me, babe," they said against your mouth, and the words make you sigh in response, hips once again rocking into you. "you feel so good. does it feel good for you too?"
“so good,” you told them truthfully, hand running down their back. “you fit so well.”
you felt their mouth split into a grin against yours, and you couldn’t help but let out another groan when they pulled out slightly before pushing back in.
jordan looked so beautiful pressed against you, damp hair resting on his forehead. you reached up and pushed the hair out of their eyes and trailed your fingers down their cheek as they continued to slide in and out of you.
you pulled them close and whispered some encouragement as their thrusts became erratic and they let out a deep breath. they felt even more amazing inside of you as their cock filled you with their release, coating both of you with slick warmth as they continued to move.
they gradually slowed their movements, panting in utter relief and pleasure as they came to a halt, resting inside of you with a few lingering twitches. you wrapped your legs around theirs, holding them close for a moment as you soaked in euphoric thrill.
“how was that?” you sighed making yourself comfortable in the bed. jordan joined you, putting an arm around your shoulder pulling you into them.
“are you sure you’ve never had sex?” they joked prompting you to playfully smack their chest.
“i’m so happy we did… finally. i love you, j.”
“love you more, y/n/n”
#gen v#jordan li#gen v imagines#jordan li imagines#jordan li x reader#london thor#derek luh#the boys#gen v fanfiction#gen v amazon#gen v prime
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Movie Night
Jordan Li x Reader
Prompt: having your nemesis attend your roommates' movie night takes a turn when some unresolved desires flare back up
Warnings: cursing, mentions of smut
Word count: 1.246
Author's note: would anyone be up for a continuation?
_________________________________________
“You seriously bought sour cream and onion?” Emma eyes the bag of chips in Marie’s hand like it is a nuclear bomb.
“Oh, I’m sorry, are you the snack police?”
“It’s just a movie night, guys. No need to get at each other’s throats.” You try to be the voice of reason, but you are one pointless argument away from combusting into flames.
The drinks are wrong. The snacks are wrong. The placement of seating (for which you bared responsibility) is wrong. Well, there are only so many options to arrange the furniture in a dorm room.
“Shut up,” your roommates respond in unison.
“Nice to see that you can agree on something.” Emma is glaring daggers at you.
On some level, you understand their motives for organizing this night to hang out like normal teenagers for a change.
Things at the school have been slowly going downhill while you and your friends are still in the dark about most of the details. Too many questions, too little answers.
You can’t shake the feeling that that’s the motto for tonight too, but you wouldn’t dare to say that out loud. Marie would probably strangle you with her blood powers.
So, you have no choice but to suppress your annoyance, pull up an action movie on the flat screen TV by the door and fluff the pillows on Emma’s bed one last time.
Marie hands you a bowl of chips while announcing that Andre and Cate will not be the only ones attending tonight’s comfortable activities. Her lopsided smile does not soften the blow in the slightest like intended.
“Are you kidding me?” you groan out in frustration. “You can’t just invite my nemesis into my fucking bedroom.”
Marie shrugs her shoulders. “Technically, it’s our bedroom, so I’m allowed to invite whoever I please.”
Emma rushes to Marie’s defense, “Maybe that’s a good thing. Keep your friends close, but your enemies even closer. Understanding them better might help you finally break into the Top Five.”
You intend to outrank Jordan Li with talent and power.
Not by studying their profile in the flickering light of a movie.
Not by watching their fingers grasp for the last crumbs of chips in the bowl.
And certainly not by wondering what they might be wearing to such a casual event. A tiny voice in the back of your head suggests a pair of grey sweatpants and you suddenly feel the urge to punch yourself in the face.
Instead, you hurry to build up that protective wall in your mind to hold back the quickly resurfacing memory fragments.
Hot breath on your swollen lips.
Curious fingers, tracing patterns on a toned stomach, muscles tensing under your touch, wandering southwards.
Feeling their need on your fingertips.
Feeling your own, searing in the pit of your stomach.
Hitching, matching breaths.
Oh, for fucks sake, Marie, what have you done?
---
You loathe feeling weak but that was exactly what pushed you into Jordan’s arms one lonely night a few days ago.
After failing yet again to access the full potential of your powers and expressing your frustration about the matter cursing like a sailor, you were looking for a distraction to blow off some steam.
And there they were, hastily typing away on their phone in the locker room of the training facility.
“Sounds like you have a shitty night too,” they observe, back turned to you, pulling their hair together into a ponytail.
When your eyes finally meet in the dimly lit room, you both know this is inevitable.
---
The movie’s quite entertaining, but you have to resist the urge to continuously let your eyes wander to Emma’s bed where Jordan occupies the spot at the edge, farthest away from you.
Emma and Marie block your view a bit with their legs upright.
From your own spot in the desk chair next to the bed, you restrain from craning your neck.
Andre and Cate are on the floor in front of you, totally engrossed by the plot of the film.
Of course, Jordan’s wearing those damn sweatpants, leaving little to the imagination. They waltzed in here, all tall and lean frame, running a hand through their short dark hair, flexing their bicep in the process.
You received a barely noticeable smirk in exchange for a pointed look.
---
Your staring’s getting obvious.
Your phone screen lights up in the dark, earning an annoyed sigh from Marie. At first, you don’t recognize the unknown number, but it doesn’t take you long to connect the dots.
Stealing phone numbers now? That’s really depressing.
You dim the brightness of your display and roll your chair back as quietly as possible to further shield if from prying eyes.
Must be able to contact you in the event of an emergency.
You frown, catching a glimpse of Jordan’s fingers typing again. Their irritatingly pretty face illuminated by soft blue light.
You’ve been avoiding me.
You’re not sure where this conversation is going, so you try to put an end to it as fast as possible.
I’m a busy person.
And I’m fucking sick of it.
Your fingers freeze over the keyboard, afraid to make a wrong move that would burst this bubble of sudden tension.
That sounds like a you problem.
You take the safe route, hoping for the best and expecting the worst.
Maybe you’ve trouble remembering, but you came on to me. Practically ambushing me in the dead of night.
Oh, fuck you.
Yeah, I’d hope that’s what you plan on doing tonight.
You ignore the heat rising in your cheeks and begin typing again. Two can play this game.
If you ask nicely. I recall you’re good at begging.
Jordan’s laughter merges into an awkward coughing fit and you have to bite your tongue when Emma offers them a glass of water.
Getting a reaction fuels your… ambition. You’re getting bolder, tired of tiptoeing around the topic.
You know what else I recall? A fucking sleepless night after getting interrupted by that janitor. The imprints of your fingers all over my skin, between my legs, deep inside. Wishing every curve and hard edge of you up against me again in the dark. And no goddamn release.
The images come crashing down like a wave and you shift your weight, parting your thighs slightly, needing to get out of your own skin.
Jordan is catching onto your drift.
The image of you kneeling in front of me seared itself onto my brain. Those soft lips parted, ready to take every goddamn inch. I still feel your hair strands around my fingers.
Out of the corner of your eye, in the flickering light of the TV, Jordan suddenly switches to their female form.
“That’s it, I’ve had enough,” Emma declares, startling everyone in their seats.
Andre pauses the movie, him and Cate turning to see what she is on about.
You hide your knowing grin behind a yawn. It is a small victory, but at what cost? You’re itching to tear your clothes along with your skin from your burning body.
“I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I wish to be excluded from this narrative until you two have sorted it out. Emotionally, physically, or whatever.”
The silence is deafening. Almost guiltily, Jordan puts their phone aside, you follow suit.
“It’s like watching a movie in the middle of a fucking porn shoot. Now, if everyone agrees to behave themselves, can we continue, please?”
#jordan li#gen v jordan li#jordan li x reader#jordan li fanfiction#jordan li imagine#marie moreau#emma meyer#cate dunlap#andre anderson#gen v#gen v amazon#gen v fanfiction#gen v spoilers#the boys universe#the boys
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
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.
913 notes
·
View notes
Text
HELL IS A (FUCKING) ROOMMATE. JORDAN LI.
synopsis ; your roommate has the libido of a goddamn animal and it's driving you insane. not to mention the fact they have an annoying habit of jerking off in your dorm. to you.
they want you? fine—they can have you. only on your terms, though.
✗ warnings ; dom!reader, sub!jordan. fem!reader, perv!roomate!jordan, dubcon, voyeurism, excessive masturbation (soz). wc ; 4.2k
YOU can do this. you can do this.
you grunt as you fumble for the key. cursing as, with an extreme lack of coordination—you begin to forcibly ram the bloody thing into the lock with the grace and precision of a sledgehammer. what you lack in motor control you make up for with inner beauty—or something.
the do not disturb sign rattles mockingly off the handle, meaning your roommate is definitely inside and definitely not helping out. you grit your teeth, entire body off kilter as you're preoccupied with balancing the boxes cramful of belongings in your arms; big and bulky and absolutely not helping your aim. you curse, loudly as they almost almost tumble out of your grasp the moment the key miraculously jams into place, jerking wildly to catch them. (note: super strength does not come with super-hand-eye-coordination.)
“fucking– stupid- key– fucking better– woah!”
without warning, the door swings open, inwards. a montage of your entire life flits before your eyes as you hurtle forward, boxes and all. you just about barely manage to catch yourself with an undignified stumble before drawing yourself up; coming face to face with—oh.
two figures. bodies very noticeably.. inside. each other. naked. on, what you realise after a bout of disbelief; your fucking bed.
"what the fuck?"
one of them growls, mop of black hair flopping as their head snaps up, even though you're pretty sure you should be the one slinging expletives around. with a frustrated scowl they pull out of the dude, sending a withering glare to the poor guy they were fucking into the bedspread—to which he.. disappears? glitches out? phases out of existence? because suddenly he’s not there anymore, and you’re stranded alone with a very attractive, very threatening looking college student.
who is also—uh, very, very naked.
“um, hi–”
“why do you have a key to my fucking dorm?”
oh, shit.
they are, frankly, gorgeous – like, one of the most beautiful people you've ever seen. their hair is black, mussed, and you can’t help the way your gaze follows its way down the threshold of an.. extremely muscled, slick torso before snapping upwards to find a mildly paralysing glare that reminds yourself that you are not in a very good position right now.
“i’m uh- your new.. roommate?'' you don't mean for it to come out like a question, but by the way they're staring down at you like you're a cockroach that just flew onto their windshield, you almost aren't so sure.
"i'm a fucking TA— i don't have roommates." their eyes narrow, which is like—alright, way to be real welcoming.
“i’m a.. last minute transfer..?” you offer, wincing as you meet their stare. their eyes are unflinching, yet still lidded in a post-sex haze. you can feel your body involuntarily holding its breath; though from the steel in their gaze or the way their biceps flex when they run a hand through their dishevelled locks, you can’t tell.
fuck, you hate hot people.
“oh, yeah. fuck, i forgot about that.” their shoulders slacken, mouth settling into an unimpressed line; which is only slightly more welcoming than the look of murderous intent of two seconds ago. “jordan. jordan li." they say, last name and all—which is how you know they're a prick. "make yourself at home, i guess.” they don’t sound all too enthused as they skirt away from the door, seemingly satisfied with the fact that you're not a home invader—dorm invader? whatever. you just pray that the sigh of relief you breathe isn’t audible.
“great! nice to meet you, i’m–”
“s’on the sheet." jordan cuts in with supreme disinterest as they move across the room, leaning down to pick their boxers from the floor. you’re struck once again with the realisation that they are still fucking naked, and you pointedly tear your eyes away.
“um, yeah.. hey, uh—what’s your-”
“third year, crime-fighting. don't touch my shit. no pets, obviously. if you have a dog, get rid of it. give it to the animal shelter, don’t care. don’t snoop, don't make a mess, and definitely don’t take off the goddamn do not disturb sign. got it?”
you've barely opened your mouth to reply; probably with something along the lines of what the fuck? or animal shelter? before jordan's already turned away, back muscles flexing as they sink back onto the end of their bed, scrunching their briefs up in one hand and—
“hey, uh,” jordan interjects, turning round with an unreadable expression as they glance down, and like a fucking idiot, you follow; giving you front row seat to the massive, throbbing boner that they’re still sporting—pulsing an angry, flushed red as the tip drools with precum.
“mind if i take care of this? couldn’t exactly finish, if you know what i—”
you slam the door after you, and you swear a snicker follows you down the corridor.
-
over the next week, it quickly becomes apparent that jordan either a): forgets you live in the same room as them, or b): simply does not care.
for starters, there’s their apparent aversion to doing laundry until their entire closet is out of commission, the coke stash underneath their mattress and also—oh. their need to get their dick wet at least four times a day. (irrespective of whether they have a dick or not).
“what?” jordan scoffs through a mouthful of cereal. “‘m not lettin’ some fuckin’ freshie cockblock me.”
“i’m a transfer, not a fucking freshman.” you scowl, and jordan’s lips curl to form a lazy little ‘o’. it twitches upwards into that infuriating little smirk, like they enjoy seeing you squirm.
“whatever. my libido stops for nobody, not even you. besides,” they set their bowl on the bedside table, wagging their fingers suggestively into a ‘V’ shape and licking the air between. "a bigender supe has needs too."
they’re slouching against their headboard, free arm stretching lazily above their head. your cheeks flush traitorously as their biceps flex—muscles visibly popping against their frame “you can just say 'a girl has needs'. i'm not an idiot, i know what you mean." is what you grumble back, if only to ignore the inane, stupid heat pooling in the pit of your stomach.
"but i have needs when i'm a dude, too." jordan grins, propping themselves up by their elbow, eyes gleaming impishly as they curl their hand into a fist and making a fucking wanking motion over their (currently) non-existent dick. which is—yeah. that pretty much sums up your roommate for you.
the thing is about jordan, is despite all their excessive lockerroom talk and relatively abrasive personality; they’re still rank two in all of godolkin. ergo, they’re a surprisingly busy person; being preoccupied with either studying, sparring or partying ninety of the time.
thus, like all horny, single college students, when you don’t have time to squeeze a good fuck in, you’re left with second-best option—yourself. this would otherwise be fine, except jordan’s compound v must have seeped through their bloodstream and into their libido because jesus fucking christ are they horny.
it’s not like they make an effort of hiding it, either. they seem to have zero qualms about rolling out of bed, morning wood popping out from their briefs like a fucking beacon.
“oh, shit,” jordan yawns when slide the covers off, giving way to the immense boner throbbing against their boxer-briefs. they don’t even have the decency to look sheepish when they walk past you, adjusting themselves lazily. you don’t miss the grunt of relief that escapes them as their hand palms their crotch before they disappear into the bathroom, either. or the little groans of relief that sound behind the door before they saunter out, towelling their hands with the stupidest grin on their face.
it shouldn’t piss you off as much as it does, except for the fact that even when jordan rouses without morning wood (or wood in general); they end up making their usual bathroom trip anyways. noises slipping from a half-ajar door and toilet lid left slippery, as always.
they have to be doing it on purpose. they have to be. like, they left their strap-on on your desk once. which, first of all, gross. second of all, why was it so fucking big?
“jordan!” you holler, aghast as you nudge the thing on your desk, conveniently placed right next to your laptop.
“oh! that’s where i left it. sick.” jordan grins as they saunter over, veined hands reaching over to wrap around the shiny, plastic length and fuck, since when were their palms so massive—
“thanks, roomie.” they ruffle your hair with an impish glint in their eyes, smile only growing when you jerk away with a scowl.
and that’s not even the worst of it.
“oh, shit—was that yours?” to their credit, jordan looks somewhat sheepish as they pinch a rock-hard pair of socks off the floor. your fucking socks, which have clearly been well-loved and cared for in places other than your shoes.
“those were my favourite!” they weren’t your favourites. they’re socks. however, it makes jordan wince, which almost makes it worth it.
hey, a little remorse is better than nothing.
“..i’ll buy you a new pair?” jordan offers, scratching the nape of their neck. you’re almost content to let the awkwardness linger just give them just a piece of the torture you’ve been subjected to for the past several weeks — except the sliver of satisfaction is completely negated by the way jordan’s lip twitches upwards, like they’re fighting back a smirk.
“you little fuck—“
anyways, the point is jordan wanks. a lot.
you can’t stop thinking about it. because it’s annoying. and disrespectful. and god, do they think you want to hear every pretty little moan that falls from their mouth? every grunt and groan that slips from their throat in that raspy, godforsaken timber—
long story short; if you have to find a wadded up sock or sticky residue at the bottom of the computer desk one more time, you’re going to lose it.
you think jordan knows it, too.
-
it’s midnight when you wake up to the sound of a bed creaking.
you’re an early sleeper, jordan isn’t. it works. you’re typically long knocked out before they even make it back in the dorm, out there doing god knows what. today, though, you’d far overestimated your ability to finish your latest assignment; so when jordan finally staggered through the door, slumping into bed with a little grunt, you thought nothing of it.
minutes pass, and the bed shifts. jordan groans. under the moonlight you can see the shadowed visage of their figure, splayed out on their bed with one hand underneath the covers; moving, repeatedly.
jordan grunts again, and you squint; bleary eyes adjusting to the darkness. the muffled, wet sound of slapping resounds, subdued by the weight of the blanket. if you didn’t know better, you’d think they were—
“mm, fuck—” jordan moans, blanket slipping down their hips and—oh my fucking god.
like pulling back a curtain, jordan’s cock springs enthusiastically to the surface; standing tall and proud as their fist pumps up and down the thick, veined girth of their length. it’s practically pulsating with need, bordering on desperate—they must be desperate, because jordan’s shameless, sure, but.. jacking off in the same room as you?
you didn’t think they were that much of a fucking perv.
but maybe you’re a perv too, because the moment jordan’s hips rock upwards and their tip glimmers in a thick sheen of pre-cum; you can feel the telltale surge of heat in your stomach, the fabric of your panties dampening and oh, this can’t seriously be happening right now.
“fuck—motherfucker..” jordan hisses, drawing your bleary-eyed gaze from the flushed, throbbing bob of their cock to their pink cheeks and fucked-out face, mouth lolling in pleasure. they twist their head, nosing into something tossed onto their pillow that makes you stop in their tracks.
that’s.. you thought you lost that!
“need ‘m—so—fucking bad..” jordan slurs stiltedly, nuzzling into your shirt like their life depends on it. “fuckin’—stupid fucking—”
your stomach tightens, and you can’t help it when your fingers dip down under your shorts, slipping into your cunt. you should be mad, should be disgusted, should be shoving open the door and ripping them out of their covers and.. wrapping your mouth around their adorably flushed tip? seizing their hips and yanking their cock into your tight, wet little—
"oh, fuck," jordan interrupts your thought process by growling through their teeth, precum spilling from the slit of their dick and glazing their palms. there’s so much of it, so wet that even in the dark you can see the stain pooling in their sweatpants, their bedsheets.
you’re so entranced you barely even register when it when their grip releases; length arcing and splattering thick ropes of cum against their abdomen. the sight is so mesmerising that you almost don’t pick up on the sound of your fucking name that tears out of their throat—husky and half gargled as jordan’s chest heaves. you don’t even realise you’ve been holding your breath until jordan’s figure simply lays there, pants echoing in the silent room.
they wrap your shirt around their dick and wipe it clean. it’s only when they murmur something unintelligible—burying their nose back into your jumper that you finally, finally turn away, fingers curling deep inside your cunt.
fucking hell.
-
the second time it happens, you are wide, wide awake. which unfortunately means you have no excuse for the minutes seared into your memory and sticky residue on your thighs.
granted, at first you didn’t know. as always, the bathroom door hangs carelessly agape. steam curls from the room, wafting up and dispersing in the stuffy dorm air. what lingers, however, is the fresh note of jordan’s shampoo, body wash, and something.. saltier, headier.
whatever. with nothing more than an arched brow, you pick over the discarded basketball shorts and tank tops that litter the floor, intending to kick the bathroom door shut and be on your way. it’s when your hand reaches out, closing around the cool metal that you see it.
jordan’s slumped against the slick shower wall, fingers buried knuckle-deep into their pussy.
oh, shit shit shit—
“shit..” jordan hisses, muscles working like well-oiled sprigs as they pump into their cunt, droplets of water trickling down their skin and pooling into the divots of their body.
your hand tightens around the doorknob. god, their moans.. if they think the sound of the showerhead can disguise the filthy nothings spilling out of their mouth, they are very, very wrong.
somewhere between the fuck’s and annoying’s and pretty fuckin’ prude’s their full-weight crumples against the shower wall, plush ass pressing up against steaming glass like some (high-quality) porn ad as they ram their fingers in one last time, free hand shooting out wildly to grasp at nothing before the shower wall splatters with something you only catch a glimpse of before you’re slamming the bathroom door, cheeks burning and fingers trembling. with a start, you realise you’ve almost wrenched the goddamn metal off.
the doorknob is always a little bit loose, after that.
-
you’re getting ready for a party.
well, you’re supposed to be getting ready for a party, hence the sultry eyeshadow, glossy press of your lips and sheer amount of skin laid bare. your crop-top is just a little bit too high, mini-skirt more than a little too short.
in reality? you’re enacting your fucking vegeance.
jordan likes you. it’s a fact that stares you right in the face. and if not a crush, it’s a massive, raging hard-on. for you—only you—citing a certain roommate’s post-nut ramblings you’ve heard one too many times.
as it turns out, jordan becomes considerably less insufferable when you know you’re the only thing that gets their dick wet.
“how do i look?” you call, doing a little twirl. it’s impossible to keep the smirk off your face, skirt flipping very purposely upwards as you spin, revealing a tad more than they ever (usually) get to see.
jordan glances up, and their breath fucking hitches.
bingo.
“what?” you cock your head, lashes batting innocuously as they stare. playing the oblivious role is just too sweet, especially when your eyes flicker down, just for a moment, and you can see the bulge in their sweatpants growing.
poor little jordan, hard because their roommate flashed a millisecond of ass.
“you look—good.” they grunt, tone carefully measured. their gaze lingers, only for another moment before they abruptly snap their vision back to their screen. an admirable effort, really. if only their cheeks were a little less red, cock a little less needy.
“well don’t flatter me too much,” you twist away, lips twitching upwards. feigning normalcy is easy, seeing as how you’ve been doing so ever since that first night. you're practically buzzing with anticipation when you make a big show of leaving the room, snarky comment and all.
and really, jordan could've waited for longer than two minutes before moaning that raspy, broken moan (you're so intimately familiar with) from behind the door.
your lips split into a grin, and when you slide the door back open, the look on jordan's face is so priceless you hope it'll be seared into your memory forever.
“shit!"
it’s undeniable, this time. you’re no longer a fly on the wall, and they’re no longer blanketed by the illusion of secrecy; caught red-handed with their cock in their fist and head on your pillow.
“wait—fuck—i can expl—!”
like clockwork, jordan's cock twitches as if in reaction, and a drop of fresh semen spurts from their tip before trickling down to join the messy puddle on their stomach.
“i thought—fuck! you said you were going!”
“that doesn’t sound like an apology to me.”
you delight in the way jordan flushes, their breath hitching. they take a ragged breath before they make a valiant attempt to cover up their falter with aggression. "doesn't mean anything," they retort through gritted teeth, mustering up as much conviction as they can.
it’s adorable, how much they pretend they don’t want you as if they don’t jack off to the smell of your sweatshirt every night.
“shut the fuck up.” you roll your eyes, novelty of the movement finally wearing thin. you have needs too—and with a fluid movement, you slide onto the bed and yank their hips against yours, pulling them into a straddle over your torso.
jordan can't help but hiss at the sudden contact, hips jerking instinctively. "fuck, you're cold," they mutter under their breath, though there's no denying the thrill running through them; hips bucking forward into the touch of your cool fingers as they wrap around their hard member. it feels euphoric—the contrast between your heat and coldness heightening every single nerve ending in their body. the tip of their cockhead brushing against your belly button, dripping a thin line of hot, sticky fluid after it.
“go on.” you coo, eyebrows raised.
jorda’s hands fly almost immediately to the hem of your skirt. so eager, like an impatient puppy.
before you curl your hand around their wrist, grip firm and punishing.
they freeze, head cocking like a confused puppy. “huh?” they say, biting back a noise of complaint. they want you so bad its goddamn gruelling; their fingers twitching around nothing, screaming in impatience, let me fuck you, let me ruin you already. don’t you know how long i’ve been waiting? how long you’ve kept me fucking waiting?
of course you know. they don’t know that, though.
“you’re not gonna do anything?” despite all their irritating, fratboy-esque bravado; jordan’s unable to prevent the whininess from seeping into their tone, hands tugging insistently at the hem of your skirt. their cock pulses, painful and needy.
“you have hands, don’t you?” your lips quirk at the way jordan’s expression drops and their mouth opens again, probably to protest until you yank their thighs open and press them forward, dick pressing flush against your torso.
"unnhnnngh.." jordan grunts, gasping for air while trying to maintain eye contact with you—an impossible task considering how goddamn desperate they are. their free hand grabs hold of your waist, grinding sloppily as precum spurts all over your chest. “f-fuck off," they hiss, lips crashing against yours, teeth knocking at their eagerness.
“goddamn tease—” they groan, rutting against your torso, to no avail. they bury their face into your collar, utterly miserable, fingers twisting into the hem of your shirt. “just get the fuck on with it—ahnnn.. f-fuck—”
“so mouthy,” you tease, delighted at the mewl that slips past jordan’s lips when your hand wraps around their tip. their chain necklace swings wildly, bucking their hips desperately into your fist.
“hands feel so fuckin’ good,” jordan sputters, drooling almost as much as their dick is. their fumbling grasp finds purchase in your shoulders as they pump themselves into your hand; you barely even have to move, with them doing most of the work.
“need to be— inside—“ jordan grunts; glassy eyes blinking down at you like it’ll change your mind just like that. it’s cute, how they look when they’re not scowling or fucking smirking at you. it’s even cuter, the way they inhale sharply when you shake your head and deliver a cool “no, baby,” their back arching when you cup one of their balls and squeeze, forced into dismal acceptance with a keening whine.
jordan’s movements are getting unsteady, now. eyes glazing over by the second. “y’gonna make me cum,” they slur, grip on your hips tightening. it only takes a moment before their movements stutter and they’re muttering “fuck fuck fuck oh, fuck!“ and a long, gargled moan rips from their throat and all of a sudden hands wrapped around cock are sinking in wet, sloppy heat; your fingers sliding knuckle-deep into their pussy with almost breath-taking ease.
“jesus christ!” jordan croons in sheer, unexpected pleasure as they feel you shove yourself inside them, cum spurting and squeezing out helplessly from between their walls and your fingers. they squirt so fucking messily, their leaking cock replaced by a cunt spilling out out all over your palm.
“i didn’t—didn’t mean to—” they slur, panic two steps behind their mouth. struggling to sling anything coherent together with you kneading your fingers into their pussy like its goddamn putty. “oh?” you arch a brow, and jordan visibly flushes, moaning openly when your digits curl.
“can’t–don’t really—”
“what? fuck yourself?” is your reply, because you both know they fucking do; it’s not like you don’t how their pussy sounds when it’s sliding slick against their pillow, how your name sounds cried out, thick through the muzzle of your jumper.
it’s a dual guilty pleasure—you watch, they do. at this point, you can’t tell who’s the more perverted out of the two of you.
jordan. definitely jordan.
“too busy humping my clothes, is that it?” you purr, and jordan honest to god whimpers, squirming away from your fingers both out of overstimulation and plaintive shame. “ah, ah,” you tut, nails digging into their hips as you hold them in place, finger thumbing harshly against their clit as they cry out a gargled moan.
“f-fuck off—” jordan hisses, practically an admission of guilt itself. they seem to know it, too, with the way they abandon all pretence and pound violently against your knuckles—their gaze burning into yours like they’re daring you to say another word. “don’t act like you didn’t—shit—fucking like it.” jordan gasps out between sputters, teetering on the edge of another orgasm.
“hm?” you pause, eyes meeting jordan’s heated, quivering stare. “jerk off to watching me?” they choke, eyes glossing over when you thrust “did you fuck yourself to my—mmhnn—!”
an easy, all-too-familiar eye roll graces your face before you shut them up with your fingers. their pussy clenches; hot, slippery walls gripping your digits as if afraid to let go. oh, this is too easy.
“don’t get cute with me, roomie.” the nickname tastes sweet on your tongue, and jordan’s face grows hotter. a well-timed thumb to their clit flickers their bravado out like a light. “fucking hell!” they gasp, mouth gaping into a moan and eyes rolling back into their skull.
“you wanted me to watch, didn’t you?” you coo, and jordan squirms; mouth open in protest—or at least attempts at them, what with the way they keep gasping out in pleasure as you roll your fingers against their clit.
“shut the fuck—i didn’t—”
“a pervert and a liar now, are we?”
jordan makes a noise somewhere between a hiss and a whine, crying out when you slide two more fingers into the slick canal of their core. their eyes screw shut, hands seizing so wildly into the mattress you almost think they’re about to tear a hole through the bedsheets.
“god! fuck—i can’t—”
they cry out your name when they cum, and even if its a sound you’ve heard countless times by now you don’t think it’ll ever get old. “that’s it, baby.” you coo, lips curling upwards at the way they bury their face into your collar.
they lie there, panting, for what feels like forever before a muffled, half-delusional groan leaves their lips.
“oh, fuuuckk..”
“what?”
“..i thought i would top.”
#(っ ‘o’)ﾉ⌒💥my works !#૮ smut🔞#inbox !#jordan li#jordan li x reader#jordan li fanfic#jordan li headcanons#jordan li smut#gen v#gen v smut#gen v x reader#gen v fanfic#gen v headcanons
457 notes
·
View notes
Text
He’s Just Not That Into You
pairing: jordan li x reader
summary: a hopeless romantic, you keep looking for love in all the wrong places, with all the wrong guys. that is, until you meet jordan li, who takes pity on you and tries to help you learn when a guy just isn’t into you.
gif credit: artemidosgifs
“You good?”
"Huh?" Dazed and drifting, you look up from your incredibly important task of peeling off the label for the worst tasting artisanal beer ever created.
You quickly remember why you focused on the task in the first place. The lighting at this party sucks. It's mostly dim, to try and hide all the unsavory things happening in every corner of the house. The brightest bits of it are all flashing. Neon blue. Neon red. Neon green. As if anyone has ever looked good in neon green lighting. That plus the never-ending movement of people dancing is enough to make you sick.
"Are you good or are you starting to tweak?" Your eyes adjust enough to see who's talking and you sit up straighter. Jordan Li. Number #2.
She's wearing her ever present scowl that makes you study extra hard in Brink's class. You don't ever want to be in the position to have to ask for clarification on an assignment or further guidance. Brink's so busy being renowned that he's a pretty absent teacher, if you're not one of his favorites. Everything menial falls to Jordan.
"I'm good! Totally good. Just vibing, y'know."
Jordan stares down at you, looks back out onto the sea of partygoers, "What vibe do you think you're matching?"
“Excuse me?”
"You've been sitting here for almost twenty minutes. You've barely moved. Did you take something?"
"No! I.... I didn't take anything. I'm just enjoying the atmosphere."
Jordan rolls her eyes, takes the beer bottle from your hand, and then takes your hand itself. She pulls you to your feet, easy, despite the way you go limp at the last second to try and stay seated. Without a word she begins to pull you through the crowd. Bewildered, you follow.
She doesn't stop till you're outside on the porch. Surprisingly, no one else is lingering. But the air has a chill that's pretty biting for an early day in fall. You take a deep breath. You hadn't realized how loud the music really was. How overwhelming every smell. The itch that crawled across your skin with each jostle of a body coming too near.
"Yeah, you look like you were really enjoying the atmosphere." Jordan drawls, leaned up against the railing, observing you.
Your first instinct was to say 'fuck you' to that, obviously. But at the last second you remember she is your TA and is probably doing all the actual grading for every assignment you turn in.
You force a smile, "Thank you. Guess I was feeling pretty anxious."
"What are you even doing here?"
"Should... I mean, I was... invited? If that's what you're asking. Although I think crashing parties is pretty typical college stuff, even if I wasn't-"
“Not what I meant.” Jordan interrupts, “I mean you don’t usually go to parties. I never see you at any of them.”
“Maybe we just run in different circles.”
“Not really. You’re in the top ten now. What did you jump to, number 6?”
“Seven, actually.”
“Really? Well, won’t be long. Number 6 is a dick. He’ll be easy to knock out with the type of stats you’re pulling this year.”
Somehow, this compliment bewilders you more than anything. Jordan must see it on your face, because she rolls her eyes again.
“I keep an eye on the competition. Even if you are just a sophomore.”
“Okay, Junior.” You narrow your eyes at her. She narrows hers back, which feels like overkill, because she was already glaring.
“So, what are you doing here?”
“Did they hire you to be the bouncer for this party?”
“Jesus, ‘m just making conversation. You looked like you were gonna hurl in there. What? Did your friends drag you here then ditch you?”
“My friends would never do that. That violates the party safety rule. Arrive together, leave together.”
“Oh of course.” She says, nodding in a way that feels sarcastic.
“I actually came without my friends.” You say, standing up straighter. Proud of yourself for stepping out of your shell even if it ended on a sour note.
“You did?” Jordan raises an eyebrow. You deflate a little at the shocked tone. Even your TA thinks you’re lame.
“Well…. I was supposed to meet someone here. But they… I dunno, I must’ve missed them. Or whatever.”
“Who were you supposed to meet?”
You hesitate for a second, but they impatiently gesture for you to go on. So, begrudgingly you admit to, “Uuuuh… Andre?”
“Andre?” In the blink of an eye they shift, and take a step closer. As if he wants you to see the disbelief on his face as clearly as possible. “How do you know Andre?”
“What happened to we run in the same circle?” You snap back. “Andre’s top ten.”
“Andre’s a fucking nepo baby.” Jordan scoffs
“Aren’t you friends?” You frown.
“Andre barely shows up to class, he knows why he’s top ten, trust me.” Jordan says. “Andre invited you?”
“Yes, Andre invited me. We were at the club last week and you know…talked.”
“You were at the club? You’re changing it up like crazy this year, huh L/N?”
“Lot of good it’s doing me.” You sigh. You twist the sleeve of your top, wrinkling the fabric. You’d spent hours picking out the perfect outfit that looked like you weren’t trying too hard, but brought out all your best features.
Jordan’s face twists, you’d almost mistake it for sympathy, “Did you see Andre at all tonight?”
“Did he come here with you?”
“Would you like me to lie or tell you the truth?”
You sigh, moving to sit down on the porch steps, emotionally and socially exhausted. “It’s okay, I already know the answer.”
A moment of silence before Jordan moves to sit beside you. He offers back up the beer he took from you earlier, “You look like you could use a drink.”
“Eh, you have it. If you’re not a germaphobe. Thanks for rescuing me.”
Jordan shrugs, takes a sip and almost spits it right back out, “God it tastes like fucking piss.”
“You weren’t very nice to me during the rescue, so you didn’t deserve a warning.”
“Well fuck me, I guess.” He laughs, staring at you. He let’s out a sigh of his own, “So which line did he use?”
“Huh?”
“What did Andre say to you?”
“He didn’t use a line.” You protest.
“Andre doesn’t know how to do anything but use a line. Wait! Lemme guess,” Jordan looks you up and down before glancing at a few rings on your hand. “Were you wearing those?”
You stare back at him.
“Well?”
“Yes, I was, why?”
“Did he come up to you with one of them and ask if you dropped it?”
“.....Maybe. I repeat, why?” You ask, stomach twisting.
“Cause he slipped it off your finger with his powers so he’d have an opening. It’s his go to for girls that look shy. Seen it a million times.”
“Oh, well, that’s lovely, actually. Fuck me!” You groan, laying back against the steps and throwing your hands over your face. “You’re really good at comforting people, did you know that?”
“I’ve been told to work on it.”
“Clearly not enough.”
“Just didn’t want you to fall for the bullshit any more than you already have.”
You scrub your face harshly, trying to ignore the tightness in your throat. “Sorry. Do you like apples? I can put a nice shiny one on your desk Monday morning as a thank you for the solid.”
“Are you about to cry?” Jordan asks, bewildered.
“No.”
“Over Andre Anderson?”
“No!” You sit up, glaring at him. He glares back. “Not exactly. It’s just… I don’t put myself out there a lot. So it sucks. That I tried… and all I got was a guy who fed me a line he’s used a million different times on a million different girls, who then ditched me at a party he invited me to. I should’ve just fucking stayed home.”
You sniffle and then remember who you’re actually talking to and how awkward it’s going to be to see their face Monday morning for class if you keep spilling your guts. You stand up abruptly, already planning on apologizing for whatever you said while you were “drunk” tonight. You’re opening your mouth to make your excuses, already taking steps away from the stairs when Jordan reaches out, grabbing you gently by the wrist.
“Wait! I’m… sorry, I mean-”
“Why are you sorry?” You sniff, “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I could’ve… I could’ve been nicer. About telling you. About Andre.” Jordan pulls you to sitting back down beside him, slowly, so you can pull away if you really wanted to.
“It’s okay. I should’ve known better.” You say quietly.
“Hey, no. I made it sound like he’s super obvious about it but he’s honestly pretty smooth. His only hobbies are picking up girls and cocaine. He could make… fucking, I dunno, Ellen Ripley blush if he had the prep time! It’s really not your fault.” The comment surprises a wet laugh out of you and Jordan smiles, bumping your shoulders together.
“Thanks, but he probably was obvious. I just… don’t see stuff like that coming very well.” You laugh bitterly.
“What do you mean?”
“I apparently just can’t tell for shit when a guy is actually into me! Or just… entertaining himself.” You sigh.
You and Jordan sit in silence for a second. You have no clue what’s going on in his head. You see him tapping his finger on the beer bottle, the sound of his rings the only noise for a moment.
“I could help you.”
“Help me what?”
“I could teach you how to spot when a guy is just being an asshole or when he’s serious about you. So this doesn’t happen again.” Jordan shrugs, taking another swallow of the beer, flinching again at the taste.
“Piss kink or short term memory loss?”
“Offer retracted.” Jordan laughs.
“Why are you offering in the first place?”
Jordan shrugs, looking out in the distance, “You’re… cool, y’know. Think of it as a welcome to the top ten gift. You’re only gonna get more and more attention now that you’re there. You’ll need to be able to sniff out bullshit or you’ll get eaten alive. No offense.”
“I’ve been in the top ten for the last six months.” You scowl.
“Mazel tov.”
“Dick.” You scoff, fighting back another laugh. You and Jordan make eye contact and both lose the battle, laughing together.
You take a deep breath once the fit passes, “This isn’t a top ten humiliation ritual of initiation thing, right?”
“I’m way too busy to waste my time doing stupid shit like that.” Jordan says, familiar glare falling back onto his face.
“Sorry, rough night, had to ask.” You say sheepishly. “Offer still open?” You smile, extending your hand out for a handshake.
“Yeah, offers still open, L/N.” Jordan rolls his eyes, but he does shake your hand.
“So, number’s one pretty obvious but we have to establish the basics because you told me you were hopeless.” Jordan sips her chocolate milkshake.
“Didn’t use the word hopeless, but sure.” You mutter, tossing a fry into your mouth and frowning at the lack of flavor. “Hit me.”
“If he calls off plans with you all the time he’s not interested. If he doesn’t give you as much heads up as humanly possible before he has to cancel a plan or bail then he might actually hate you.”
“You’re exaggerating.” You scoff, shaking extra salt onto your fries.
Jordan reaches over, stealing one of your now delicious fries to dip it into her milkshake. “It’s a type of power play. Too many reasons to name why a guy might feel the need to pull something like that but we don’t wanna get too complicated. All you need to do is memorize the red flags and run when you see them.”
“Okay…. follow up question, what would you consider to be ‘all the time’?”
“If you just started seeing each other and he cancels two dates in a row without desperately trying to make it up to you he doesn’t give a shit.” Jordan steals and dips another of your fries.
“What about emergencies? Like… I dunno, a funeral? What if his Aunt died? So he cancels that one date. Then the next one he tries to plan his car breaks down or something, you know?”
“He should call an uber and get to the fucking location of the date come hell or high water. That’s what a guy who likes you is gonna do. Don’t over complicate, L/N.”
“Oh and you don’t think you’re over-complicating the process of eating my fries?” You smack at her hand as it reaches for your plate for the umpteenth time during this lunch. “You could have ordered fries. Why didn’t you order fries?”
“Didn’t want any until I saw yours.” She tries again but you see the movement coming and block her hand, again. You did not notice the second, slightly sneakier hand that does successfully carry out the theft.
“Did you just juke me over a fry?
“Yeah, and I won.”
You toss a fry at her and laugh when she manages to catch it with her mouth. Asshole.
You sit on the corner of Jordan’s desk, watching as he finishes up some last minute work that Brink asked him to do before heading out. You’d offered to meet back up later but he just shook his head and said it wouldn’t take long.
“What if he’s just a private person?” You ask, kicking your feet lightly.
Jordan looks up from his laptop and frowns at you, “Why are you trying to invent exceptions to the rules? The rules are there to help you. Can you say that for me, L/N? Can you say the rules are there to help me?”
“The rules are there to help me.” You repeat back, mocking their tone.
“Thank you.” Jordan smirks at you, “Like I said, if he’s hiding your relationship from the world then he’s not serious about you. He should be introducing you to people. You should be on his social media. People should not be shocked you exist when meeting you. All that bullshit.”
“And if they’re a private person?” You challenge.
Jordan pushes away his laptop, turning to face you. “Fuck me. The types of guys you’re gonna be around as a hero are all gonna be doing the same stuff as you. There’s gonna be a certain level of our life that’s always in the spotlight. Minimum of two posts a week if he’s constantly posting in general.”
“I don’t post very much.” You counter.
“You should be posting more. Especially as a top ten. There’s no reason you shouldn’t be number 6 right now. You need to be more active on socials.” Jordan gives you a look before going back to typing. Two weeks ago that look would have put you on the verge of tears. Now you roll your eyes.
“I’ll think about it.”
“It was an order as your TA, actually.”
“Oh god, an order? I’m shaking in my boots.” You tease, playfully kicking his chair.
“That just knocked your essay from a B- to a C, congratulations.” Jordan quips.
“You were gonna mark my essay a B-, you dick? You know damn well I don’t turn in B- work. Who do you think-”
The rest of the afternoon is lost to playful outrage. The papers get graded late. Yours comes back an A+. No one besides you has gotten a grade of + anything since Jordan became TA.
“Okay, so this is one with a grey area.” Jordan says.
“Oh no.”
“Shut up. If he never gets jealous that’s a red flag.”
“But-” You sit up from where you’re laid out on the blanket you threw on the ground to better soak in the last warm rays of September sun.
“I am not saying go out with some overly possessive fucking maniac.” Jordan cuts you off.
“Be specific, Jordan. You can’t give me rules with built in exceptions. I’ll fail. Is that what you want? You want me to fail, Jordan? That’s messed up-”
“Shut up-” Jordan laughs, shaking her head. “Listen to me, if a guy never gets jealous he just doesn’t care at all. The most namaste, enlightened dude on the planet will get jealous in the right situation. I’m not saying tolerate anything crazy. It’s just good if he like… responds, when you say you’re going to study alone with another dude at 9pm, in the guy’s dorm... while his roommate is gone.”
“Is studying alone with another dude, in his dorm while his roommate is gone, okay as long as it ends before 9pm?”
Jordan rips out grass from the ground and tries to sprinkle it onto your face. You put up a force-field and laugh when she sticks her tongue out.
“He’s gotta give you his full attention. When he’s with you, he’s with you. Everyone gets distracted. But if his head is always somewhere else, every time you see him, he just doesn’t like you.” Jordan swipes at your head, fast enough to be a challenge to dodge but not hard enough to hurt you had the hit connected.
You go in for a kick yourself and he practically twirls out of the way. You try twice more, managing to evade his own hits just barely.
Breathlessly, you gesture for a time out and Jordan sighs, “We gotta get you better at hand to hand.”
“That’s what my shields are for.”
“The way you use your shields is really good. You’ve gotten a lot more creative this year. It’s why you’ve been jumping ranks so fast. You’re powerful.”
The earnest tone he uses makes you lift up from the hunched over position of misery on your knees, “You think so?”
“Well…. yeah.” He clears his throat. “But you can’t get lazy. What if someone wears you out and you don’t have any energy left for them? No more shields. You need to be able to fight.���
“If I don’t have any energy left for my shields and my only option left is hand to hand combat, respectfully, it’s my time.”
Jordan rolls his eyes, “Break’s over. Back in position, stay on your toes more so it’s easier to move, okay?”
You’re about to get back into form when you hear calls of Jordan’s name from across the arena. You turn and see Luke and Cate coming over, wide grins on their faces. You give them a small wave and they both wave back, incredibly eager.
You’ve always been friendly with one another but the strength of enthusiasm is… strange. Enough to make you blink in surprise.
“Thought you said you were super booked up this week doing stuff for Brink? Absolutely no free time.” Cate asks, staring Jordan down.
“This isn’t free time. I can’t slack on hand to hand combat training. It’s important.” Jordan stares Cate down even harder.
“Why didn’t you ask me?” Luke asks casually.
“Jordan saw my form in a video I just posted and apparently it was ‘despicable’ and ‘the most insane way he’d ever seen anyone do that before’. He rushed over to show me what the ‘right way to do it is’. Control freak.” You fake a cough as you say the last part.
“You were gonna hurt your back!”
“Super healing.”
“Super herniated disc.” Jordan quips back and you scoff, shoving him.
He shoves you back with an eye roll, fighting back a smile.
“How ungentlemanly of you.” You gasp. A shift, and she shoves you again making you laugh, “and unladylike!”
“You shoved me first!”
“Children, please try and be civil we’re in public.” Luke cuts in and you almost jump at the sound of his voice.
It’s easy to get lost in your own world when you’re with Jordan. You turn to be politely facing your classmates and not just Jordan, wearing a sheepish smile.
“Stop teasing them. They’re cute.” Cate smiles.
“Anyways, you guys need something?” Jordan asks.
“We can’t just hang out? Are you trying to get rid of your best friends?” Luke asks.
“Yes.”
“Jordan!” You bump her with your elbow.
“Okay, okay. We’ll leave you alone. Wanna grab lunch with us after though?” Cate asks, looping her arm through Luke’s.
“You feeling up to lunch, L/N?” Jordan looks over at you.
With three unexpected pairs of eyes on you, you fluster. “If you go easy on me for the rest of training, yes.”
“Not a chance.” Jordan snorts. “We’ll be there though. Now scram. L/N needs a lot of help.”
“No, I fucking do not!” You protest.
The two of you don’t notice Luke and Cate walking away trading looks.
“When you don’t know really know anything about him, it’s not a good sign.” Jordan tilts the bowl of popcorn towards you.
“And what do you mean, specifically, by knowing anything about him?” You ask, taking some pieces and throwing them back.
“Has has ever shared his feelings? Talked about his personal life? If you don’t know anything besides the superficial stuff he doesn’t care about you.” Jordan states. “You also need to look out for him not knowing anything about you. Does he give you space to open up? Does he remember the shit you do tell him?”
“Got it, so just look out for the superficial surface level conversations if you never have any deeper moments.” You say.
“Exactly.” Jordan says before her eyes snap back to the screen suddenly. “Did they say they’re gonna try and make that house feel more ‘open concept’? What the fuck is their problem?”
“Huh?” You look back to Jordan’s TV, which is playing Property Brothers. “You got a problem against open concept?”
“I have a problem with every house being made to look the same, inside and out. It’s bad enough new houses don’t have unique floor plans. Now we’re taking houses that were unique and fucking them up till they’re boring! What ever happened to individuality? I bet they’ll paint the walls grey too. Fuck me.” She huffs, leaning back against the couch.
“Are you really into this show or just really into design patterns?” You ask, charmed at her passion for something completely random.
“A bit of both.” Jordan says. “I wanted to be an architect. Before I got my powers.”
“Shut up! No, you did not.”
“I did.” She laughs, “I used to draw up plans and torment my parents with them every hour of the day.”
You spend the rest of the afternoon talking about your hidden passions.
You even get the honor of seeing a few of the sketches Jordan made years ago. They were crinkled at the edges, pencil markings dull with age in some places. You smiled down at the folder Jordan keeps the drawings in. When you look up, finally, to compliment them you notice a strange look on Jordan’s face.
Thinking you’d made her self conscious with your long silence you wrapped an arm around her and told her she would have made a hell of an architect. And probably killed someone with the utter lack of load bearing beams in her structures.
You expected her to shove you off playfully but she only leaned into you and smiled, flipping to the next page of the folder.
When you get back to your own dorm room, moon high in the sky, you have to stifle a laugh. The latest post on Jordan’s Instagram is a picture of you standing with your hands on your hips in the middle of their room, looking baffled.
The caption: I handed her the remote and walked away for five minutes. We’ve been looking for almost an hour #jesus christ #banned from room 4ever.
You step out into the hallway and call Jordan up, demanding they take down their character assassination attempt because you two only looked for 26 minutes, actually.
They refuse.
You’re so incensed by the exaggeration that you wind up back outside Jordan’s dorm room not ten minutes later. When she opens the door, and sees you standing there, she bursts into laughter. She drags you inside, and when you ask her when the ban got lifted she just throws you on the bed. You spend the rest of the night arguing semantics.
You and Jordan were sitting in the ground floor of the school’s library where you were allowed to talk quietly. You were teaching them how to fold paper to make little stars while they were teaching you how to make the perfect paper airplane.
“Are you filled with barely suppressed rage? Why is it so damn wrinkled?” You laugh at their mangled star.
Jordan grabs another piece of paper with a huff, pushing her bob back behind her ears. “You are shit at giving instructions. This is impossible. Do the steps slower again.”
“I’m sorry, I’m actually not capable of slowing myself down times 3 like a Youtube video.” You tease.
“Fuck you.” Jordan kicks you under the table with her foot. “Again. Show me.”
“You start with this corner here, then you twist it over here, next you wanna-”
“Hey! Hey! What’s up people!” You and Jordan turn in perfect sync to hiss at the person to be quiet only to find that person to be Andre Anderson.
You turn back towards the table, Jordan moves an arm to curl around the back of your chair.
“Hey.” Jordan says flatly. You make some noise that you hope passes for a greeting.
“Sorry, too loud. So this is where the party is, huh? What’re you two doing?” Andre grabs a chair on the opposite side of the table and you frown, focusing intensely on the paper before you.
“Don’t you have a class right now?” Jordan asks sharply.
“Blowing it off.” Andre grins back.
Jordan scoffs. You only notice your shoulders are practically up to your ears when Jordan puts her hand there and rubs. You relax, letting out a quiet breath you were holding. Jordan gives you a squeeze.
“Awww, you making little stars? Cute. Wanna show me how, F/N?” Andre has the nerve to sound flirtatious.
After ditching you without a word and radio silence to back it up. To really make sure there’s insult to match the injury. You clench your jaw. Keep moving your hands. Try to zone out.
The hand on your shoulder gets bigger and so does the thigh that brushes against yours under the table. “Could you fuck off for a bit? We’re trying to relax after our exams this morning.”
“Ouch. Didn’t know you couldn’t relax with me around, man.” Andre bites back. “F/N, you want me to stay, don’t you?”
You get up from the table abruptly. The sudden sting in your eyes doesn’t even allow you you to collect your things. Your chest feels tight. You have to just get out of here. You hope in a school of future superheroes no one will steal your stuff. You think you hear calls of your name from behind you. Some yelling. Your ears are ringing too much. You break into a sprint.
You can’t even make it to your dorm. You have to settle for tucking yourself into the first patch of trees behind a building you can find. You try to fight back the tears. One breathe. Two. Three. Try to focus on the birds chirping somewhere above you. But the memories are all flooding in at once and you start to cry. Heaving, chest burning sobs.
“F/N. F/N. F/N, hey look at me.” You zone back into the world to Jordan pushing your hair away from your face and you sob.
“Fuck me, I’ll kill him. I’m sorry. I didn’t know you’d get so upset. You seemed like you didn’t care after that night… I- I’ll fucking knock his teeth in.” Jordan hisses. You’d thought you’d seen them angry before. But their face has never looked like this.
“What’s… are you having a panic attack?” Jordan asks, still petting your hair gently. You manage to nod. “Is touching you okay? Is it making it worse?” You push yourself into his hands and without another word he pulls you into his lap, tucking you against him.
You notice absently he’s wearing his favorite jacket and try to shift, so that you’re not getting tears and snot onto the fabric. He pushes your head back against his shoulder, shushing you gently. You let yourself relax, letting out the rest of the tears. Letting the anxiety leave your body. You start your grounding techniques as your breathing evens. You can see the sharp cut of Jordan’s jaw. Hear his heartbeat. The birds chirping. Feel his hands as they rub soothing circles into your skin. Smell the cologne he wears. You tuck yourself closer, even though no more tears are coming.
“Andre is a fucking loser.” Jordan says, quietly but vehemently, “You shouldn’t waste a second fucking thinking about him. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself. It’s not you. It’s just who he is.”
“It’s not just Andre… It’s… it’s not even mostly Andre.” You say quietly. “I mean he’s a dick but… it just brings up memories.”
“Memories?” Jordan echoes softly, and you know you don’t have to tell him anything but you want to.
“When I was younger… I was even more of a wall flower than I am now. Shocker, I know.” You try to joke, Jordan only hums to let you know he’s listening, pulling you closer. “Even though I had powers I wasn’t popular or anything. I had trouble controlling them. Not enough to be dangerous… just enough to be… well, a loser, honestly. Because of my anxiety, and how loud my head gets my force-fields would just pop out whenever. I couldn’t stop it. If I was scared. If I got nervous. If I was feeling stupid, or ugly. All the time. People called me bubble girl.”
“I learned to just keep to myself but I was such an easy, fun target. Sneak up on the mouse and watch them jump and make a bubble! Fun!” You laugh bitterly. You think you feel Jordan kiss the top of your head, but you’re still out of it. “It made even getting out of bed to go to school hard. Administration wouldn’t take it serious as bullying because I was a supe: if I wanted it to stop I should defend myself.”
“My parents felt the same way. Wouldn’t let me transfer. But I didn’t want to fight back. I didn’t want to turn myself into something I’m not just to be left alone! I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I thought eventually everyone would get bored, mature a little. But it just got worse and worse every fucking year. Senior year was… bad, though. I was getting better at controlling my powers so what kids would do to make me react was worse. But I just ignored it. I started just… pulling into myself. Whenever anyone would pour paint on my favorite outfit. Or cut my hair. Or hit me, I’d make the bubble in my head instead, and go there. Eventually, towards the end I thought people finally got bored, they stopped fucking with me as much. I thought I’d be able to graduate in peace.”
“There was this one boy… he was popular. But he’d always been nice to me. He smiled at me in the hallways. Would help me up if people shoved me when he was around. He even gave me his sweater once, when someone cut up my shirt during gym. His friends were dicks but I thought he was different, I thought he was nice.”
“He suddenly started being even more nice to me. It felt… when he asked me to prom I just wanted to be normal for one second. I should have known. I probably did know. I just wanted to pretend, for five seconds, I wanted to pretend.” You trail off, lost in the memory.
“What happened?” Jordan asks, voice sounding hoarse. You try to pull back to see what’s wrong but he keeps you still. You realize he started rocking the both of you as you spoke. You didn’t realize how soothing it was.
“It was a joke, obviously. We went to go shopping together, so we’d match, he told me. When we got to the shop he insisted we go to all his friends were waiting for us. Recording, of course. They all laughed at me. I still remember what one girl said, ‘you’re more crazy than we thought if you honestly ever believed someone like him would go out with a loser like you’.”
“F/N, those people were fucking assholes. They… god what the fuck is wrong with people. That’s not true.” Jordan makes you look at him, suddenly. You’re shocked that his eyes are red. “You’re not a fucking loser.”
“It’s okay, Jordan. I know they were just assholes. I always knew. It just hurts still. I’ve… I’ve avoided dating ever since, obviously. My first kiss wasn’t even romantic. It was just with a good friend that I knew wouldn’t make fun of me. So I could get it out of the way.”
“I’m sorry.” Jordan looks helpless, like he wants to do something but doesn’t know what.
“You didn’t do anything, Jordan. No need to say sorry.”
“And then Andre went and fucking… fucking motherfucker I’ll kill him!” Jordan snaps, goes to stand up and then remembers he’s holding you halfway. He sits back down, grip a little tighter, but still gentle.
“It’s okay. It wasn’t even a joke, what Andre did. He’s just… inconsiderate. And I happen to have a nasty experience that makes me blow everything out of proportion. I’ll have to get used to that kind of thing if I want to actually start dating.”
Suddenly both of Jordan’s hands are on your face, holding you still so you have to look at him. “You’re not blowing anything out of proportion. And… and you don’t have to get used to shit, F/N. You’re fucking incredible. You don’t need to tolerate anything, from fucking anyone. You’re a fucking… you’re a fucking dream girl! You’re smart, and funny, and sweet, and strong, and beautiful. You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met. You don’t have to settle for fucking anything. Okay?”
You stare up at him, shocked, he gives your head a gentle shake, “Okay?” You nod slowly.
He pulls you into another hug, the tightest one you’ve ever gotten. You don’t pull away until the sun dips so low you’re both draped in gold.
“Fucking rank number fucking 5!” Jordan screams, arm wrapped around you tightly. A chorus of cheers from the rest of the group and people nearby.
You cover your face, laughing helplessly. Jordan didn’t surprise you with this party, they knew that would only make you anxious, walking into a room full of people you weren’t expecting to see with (even if asked not to) cameras pointed at you.
Jordan had texted you: I am throwing you a surprise party on Friday night to celebrate your new ranking. Please practice your surprised face.
You had practiced. You’d done a very convincing gasp when you walked in.
“I’m so fucking proud of you.” Jordan says, for the umpteenth time, looking at you. You feel your cheeks go hot.
“Oh shut up. I’ll get a big head soon.”
“You deserve it more than anyone. You’re fucking awesome.” Jordan had started heaping more praise onto you than you knew what to do with, most days.
She claimed it was practically training. That you needed to get used to people complimenting you, with the level of fame you’re going to reach. That alone had made your stomach erupt into butterflies. Jordan believed in you. Really believed in you.
“You’re the one who’s awesome… you’re a good mentor, Jordan.” You reach up to hold the hand that’s been wrapped around your shoulder all evening.
“Are you saying that following my advice works?” Jordan pretends to gasp. You playfully dig your nails into her side and she jumps before grabbing the offending hand and holding onto it. She doesn’t let go.
Her advice had worked. You posted on your social media more, at her insistence. You started to become a beast at hand to hand, thanks to Jordan’s brutal training regimen. You were socializing more, because as long as Jordan was there you felt safe. But you were even feeling confident enough to do things on your own that high school you would be shocked didn’t instantly send you to the grave.
You’d done an interview, for God’s sake! All on your own. Although your eyes kept darting to Jordan right off camera, who smiled reassuringly the whole time.
“I will not. Because then you’ll get a big head.” You tease, giving both her hands a squeeze.
“Let’s get a drink.” Jordan says, tugging you towards the kitchen.
It’s quieter in the kitchen. The drink table in the living room is still overflowing so no one’s had to start looking for leftovers yet.
“How you feeling?” Jordan asks, helping you sit on the counter before going to the fridge. After a second he pulls out your favorite. He hid them in the far back, you can tell by how far he had to lean.
“Good.” You smile as he pops your drink open before handing it to you. He leans against one of your knees.
“Party isn’t too much, right?” He asks, for the third time tonight.
Laughing you push a strand of unruly hair back from his face. He freezes at the touch, before a smile creeps onto his lips.
“Party is perfect, Jordie. Thank you. For everything. For being so…”
“Don’t thank me for treating you the way you should always be treated.”
“You treat me like a princess! What if I get spoiled? You’ll have to deal with a monster.” You tease. “You won’t even be able to be mad at me, because you’ll be the reason.”
“You’ll terrorize the world.”
“Cause complete chaos.”
“Devastation, even.” As Jordan speaks you realize you’d gotten closer. A lot closer. Your chest seizes up with anxiety as you wonder how long you’d been leaning in like this. You almost pull back, ready to apologize. But you’re frozen stiff now and realize the two of you are still getting closer. With a jolt you realize you both leaned in.
Jordan has a hand on your thigh, you reach down, nervous, to hold his hand as reflex. It’s an every day comfort, lately. You give his hand a squeeze. He squeezes back. You don’t pull away as Jordan keeps leaning in.
“Jordan! Come stop Luke from doing a keg stand, please!” Cate’s voice, typically pleasant sounds incredibly annoying at the moment.
“Gimme a sec!” Jordan calls back, still looking you in the eye. You squeeze his hand tighter. He looks nervous. They’ve looked so nervous all night. Nervous you were having a good time. Nervous you were happy. Nervous… nervous to kiss you? Is he about to fucking kiss you?
“He has an interview tomorrow! Hustle please!” Cate calls back in a sing song tone.
“Fuck me!” Jordan throws his head back, shifting, frustrated. “I’ll be right back, okay?”
You nod, a little breathless from anxiety and excitement, and dread, and the full spectrum of human emotion. “Okay.”
Jordan stomps out of the kitchen, probably going to rip Luke a new asshole from the sound of her boots on the floor. She sounds like her own stampede. You giggle, pressing your hands, still warm from holding Jordan’s into your face. You may be bad at signals but…
You sit under the hideous fluorescent kitchen lighting feeling like something inside you is glowing. You kick your feet, nervous, waiting for Jordan to get back. Wondering what they’ll do. What they’ll say. If you’re delusional. You have to be delusional. You have to be.
“Guard dog taking a walk?” In the doorway stands Andre, looking a little rougher than usual. His right eye is dark, like a black eye that’s started healing. There’s a small bandage over his nose.
“What happened to you?” You gasp.
“Your guard dog.” Andre says, reaching into the fridge to pull out a bottle of spicy vodka. “Jordan’s number #2 for a reason. Congrats on making #5 by the way.”
“Thanks.” You say. “When did Jordan do that?”
“A week ago. Would have probably gotten it earlier but apparently Cate talked them into waiting to see me until they were less pissed off. For which I’m eternally grateful.” He says, taking a sip straight from the bottle without chaser.
You don’t really know what to say so you sit in silence. Legs still kicking, more from anxiety now, less from giddiness.
“He gave me a busted lip too, but that healed pretty quickly. I also think he might have kicked a rib loose, been a little sore on the left side.” Andre says, he doesn’t seem to be angry but you don’t know why else he’d talk to you.
“I didn’t ask Jordan to do that. If you’re wondering.” You say, slowly.
“No! No! You’re way too sweet for that. This was just my shitty way of getting around to an apology. I’m sorry. I should’ve said sorry before Jordan kicked my ass but I promise Jordan kicking my ass isn’t why I’m saying sorry. The original plan was to ask you out again, make it up to you with dinner. Jordan just kicked my ass first.”
“I hope to god you’re not working your way around to asking me on a pity date.” You narrow your eyes at him.
“So Jordan could put me in a full body cast?” Andre laughs loudly, shocking you. “No offense, you’re really cute, but nothing’s worth that fucking beat down.”
“Well, I guess I accept your-”
“You don’t have to forgive me. Jordan was pretty clear that I tore up some old wounds. I didn’t mean to, but I’m sorry. I can just be… a dick, sometimes. Often. All the time.” Andre jokes.
“What did Jordan say exactly?” You ask nervously.
“Nothing specific! I could barely pick out anything at all, really. The sound of her fist breaking my nose was pretty loud.”
You laugh then try to cover it up by taking a sip. Andre grins and you relax, knowing it was his way of breaking the tension.
“Can I ask you something?” Andre asks suddenly.
“You can ask, doesn’t mean I’ll answer.” You shrug.
“Fair enough.” Andre says, toying with the bottle. “Do you like Jordan?”
“What?”
“Because Jordan sure likes you.” Andre states.
“No, they don't.” It’s a reflex to deny the possibility of someone having feelings for you but the words feel wrong once you say them. Weren’t you just about to kiss? Wasn’t his hand just burning into your thigh like a brand? “Do they?”
“Jordan would never do a fraction of the shit they’ve been doing for you if they didn’t care about you.” Andre takes another sip, then moves to saunter from the kitchen. He stops, a glance over the shoulder. “However you feel, tell Jordan. And soon. They’re looking a little desperate.”
Then it’s just you and the sound of the party, and the cool marble you’re sitting on. And a lot to think about.
“Your incessant leg jiggling is distracting me from how and why they intend to turn this beautiful victorian home into another soulless open concept millennial nightmare.” Jordan says, glancing from the TV to your leg which, yes, has been jiggling for awhile.
“I’ve got a question.”
“Obviously.”
“How can you tell if a girl isn’t into you?”
Jordan turns to face you, eyebrows furrowed, “what?”
You feel heat flood your cheeks, but keep your eyes firmly glued to the screen. “Are the rules the same? Or different?”
“You like girls?” Jordan blurts out.
“What?” The question is enough to make you look at her. And now you're trapped by societal standards of politeness to maintain the most anxiety inducing eye contact you've ever shared.
“You've never talked about… you've never said anything about liking girls.”
“You only offered up the help for the one gender. Didn't wanna get greedy.” You force a laugh.
“How long have you…. have you always liked girls?” Jordan asks and you hope to God you're not hallucinating that quick glance at your lips.
“You follow me on Instagram!”
“What's that have to do with anything?”
“I literally have the pride flag in my bio?”
“I thought you were-”
“-Jordan Li, if you're about to tell me you thought I was an ally I'll beat you to death, and then jump off a cliff.”
Jordan laughs, ducking her head, hair falling into her face slightly. You dig your fingers into your thigh to stop yourself from reaching out and tucking it behind her ear.
“Is there a reason why you're asking… about how to tell when a girl isn't into you, all of a sudden?” Jordan looks up at you and the world narrows down to her brown eyes, and her nose, and her mouth. And the look in her eyes you hope you're not reading wrong.
You blink in confusion when amusement crosses over her face and for one awful second you think Jordan is laughing at you and you could throw up. But you realize you're suddenly looking at her from behind a force-field of light purple and feel queasy out of a different sense of embarrassment.
You can hear a smile in Jordan’s voice, but you refuse to unbury your face from your hands, “Never seen you not be able to control your powers before.”
“Please kill me.”
“Can't. Your forcefield is still up, princess.” She teases, tapping at the bubble.
With a groan of humiliation you drop your field and peek up at her through your fingers.
“First the forcefield, now the hands. Still haven't answered my question though.” You almost snip at her that she should take a wild guess at your answer but there's something about Jordan’s expression. It's teetering between playful, guarded, and… something else. And you have to bank on whatever that something else is.
You take a deep breath in and move in closer, “You're not so awful a teacher that the lessons for a guy didn't stick, but considering you're a girl too who knows what incredibly important lesson you didn't know you had to teach me. The lesson… the girl lesson, that would have stopped me from misinterpreting what's been happening here. If I’m misinterpreting. All I know is… all I can really be sure of, is how I feel. And I, well-” You bite your lip, taking a shaky breath, and Jordan moves in closer, “I'm about halfway to being in love with you.”
The words are barely out of your mouth before her lips are on yours. Her hand curls at the base of your neck, pulling you in closer. A brush of her tongue against your bottom lip before you let her in with a breathless sigh. She moans against your lips, other hand moving to your waist to tug you into her lap.
You lose your balance a little, fall into her in a way that is not at all seductive. You laugh, embarrassed and she chases the sound, using both hands to put you in her lap, holds you there firm and secure.
“You-” She kisses you, interrupting your sentence. “Haven’t-” Another kiss. “Told me-” She holds you tight this time, tilting her head to the side, sweeping her tongue against yours and gasping at your taste. You pull back with shaky hands, keeping her at a distance with a grip on her shoulders.
“Could we use our big girl words?” You ask, breathless and a little dizzy.
“I’ve fucking only been in love with you for two years, thanks for fucking noticing.” She huffs, exasperated and smiling.
“How on Earth was I supposed to interpret your seething stare of hate for being in love with me?” You’re already melting against her as she pulls you back in with the guiding grip on your hair.
“Shoulda looked harder, baby.” She coos, and doesn’t let you up again anytime soon.
A/N: my magnum opus of pining! if you enjoyed this fic consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anon! a writers fuel is engagement. xoxoxo
#bee talks#he's just not that into you#jordan li x reader#jordan li imagine#gen v#black!reader#this fic is a fucking monster in word count but that's just what jordan li deserves
457 notes
·
View notes
Text
Jordan's rough hands gripping your hips as they fuck you in their masc form, your hands clinging to the edge of the counter as your head rolls back to rest in the crook of jordan's neck, their deep groan reverberating low in your ears as they whisper about "you're taking me so so good, Princess . . . I bet you've missed my cock, huh? My pretty girl's all fucked out me . . . That's my good girl-"
Jordan's praises spur you on, drive you closer and closer to the edge before you feel them shift into their fem form, their hands softer as they smack your ass, and you whine when you feel your pussy clench against nothing. "I got you, baby," Jordan croons. "I'll make you feel good. Why don't you turn around for me?"
Jordan flips you around to wrap their arms around your waist, helping you up as you sit against the edge of the counter. You watch the hazy glint in Jordan's eyes deepen as they bring your legs up to your chest, parting them slowly to dip their head betwen your thighs so they can devour your hot sticky cunt.
"Jordan, fuuck- pleasepleaseplease" you whine, grinding your hips into their face as they plunge two fingers into your hole, curling them inside your gummy walls as your thighs twitch on either side of their head.
"Please what, sweetheart? What do you want me to do?" They say, fingers pumping in and out of your sopping cunt, making the sexiest, wettest sounds as they bring their tongue to flick around your clit.
"Fuck~ !!" Your hips roll against Jordan's mouth as their hands keep a firm grip on your inner thighs, littering them with bite marks and kisses hard enough to bruise. Jordan chuckles into your pussy, their pink tongue darting out to lick away the cum that stains their lips.
"What does it look like i'm doing, angel?"
#jordan li headcanons#jordan li smut#jordan li gen v#jordan gen v#gen v jordan#jordan li x reader#jordan li x you#jordan li#jordan li x y/n#jordan gen v headcanons#shira talks
823 notes
·
View notes
Text
— sleeping in waking
jordan li (gen v) x gn!reader
genre: fluff
summary: prompts #3 (morning after) & #4 (“don't worry, i’m staying right here”) from my 2,000 follower event
warnings: none!
with a short groan, you stirred around in your bed. or, what you thought was your bed. you rolled onto your side to the blinds open, making you squint and open your eyes. then, you heard movement beside you, and as you opened your eyes more to see where you were, they immediately grew wide and you sat up quickly. looking around, you were definitely not in your room. looking at the person next to you, you froze staring at them.
you were in jordan li’s bed.
“oh my god,” you whispered to yourself quietly, holding the blanket up to your chest. “oh my god,” you repeated.
jordan moved again, now on their back laying down as you stared at them silently as if you were hoping this was a dream and not real. when they opened their eyes, you quickly looked away, not knowing what to expect from the person you've had a crush on for a while and now ended up in their bed over night.
“hey, you're still here,” they said with a short chuckle.
“uhm yeah,” you nodded your head anxiously. you glanced over at them, and a blush quickly formed on your face. “uhm, so, did we?” your voice trailed off as you looked down.
“i think so,” they nodded.
“think?” you questioned.
“well i dunno, i was drunk, you were drunk, so,” jordan shrugged.
“oh,” you mumbled, glancing around again. “do you…want me to leave now?” you asked.
“what?” they looked at you like you were crazy and sat up, also holding the blanket to their chest. “no, i mean, you don't have to leave unless you want to. but, i don't want you to,” they answered.
you looked at them again, seeing the genuine expression on their face and nodding. “well, i wouldn't mind staying a little longer,” you said.
jordan immediately smiled, sneakily wrapping their arms around you and pulling you back down onto the bed beside them. a smile formed on your own face as you laid next to them. your eyes found theirs, and your smile grew wider as did theirs.
“so, what does this mean now?” you asked in a soft voice.
“what do you want it to mean?” jordan replied with their own question.
“well,” you shuffled closer to them, “i would like to try this out. i really like you, jordan. it's only if you want to, though.” you told them.
jordan didn't reply, instead leaning towards you and kissing you, their hands finding your face and cupping your cheeks in their hands. you smiled and kissed back, your hands resting on top of theirs, cherishing the warmth of their body. your lips molded together with theirs perfectly, and neither of you wanted this feeling to end.
pulling away from the kiss but their hands remaining on your face, jordan smiled at you. “i’d like to try it out too,” they said.
jordan then moved their hands, pulling you closer to them and letting you rest your head on their chest, starting to play with your hair as soon as you relaxed into their touch. one of your hands found their free one and intertwined your fingers as you closed your eyes, listening to their heartbeat. it was a calming silence between you two, until they spoke up in a quiet voice.
“are you going to leave soon?”
shaking your head slightly, you held their hand, your thumb drawing circles on their hand. “don't worry, i’m staying right here,” you replied.
“okay,” jordan said, smiling to themself. “then if i wake up and you're gone i’m finding you.”
“that doesn't sound threatening at all,” you joked with a chuckle.
“not one bit,” jordan laughed.
“i’m glad this happened,” you told them. “it's way easier than confessing and praying it doesn't go wrong.”
“yeah, me too,” they nodded. “plus, we had a pretty fun night.”
“so you do remember!”
“okay, maybe i remember a little bit.”
#gen v x reader#gen v#gen v amazon#jordan li#jordan li x reader#jordan li imagine#jordan li scenarios#gen v imagine#gen v scenarios
870 notes
·
View notes
Text
being at a party and being dared to give jordan a lap dance. being so fucking nervous because you're just a freshman and they're one of the most popular supes on campus - they're eyeing you up as you stumble over like a newborn fawn, spreading their legs and adjusting their hips as they just watch you. no encouraging smile, just dark eyes curious about what you'll do. its stiff at first, your dancing, people giggle at you, you want to throw up with nerves but then you feel warm hands at your waist. the metal of their rings digging into your sides as they lean in to murmur in your ear, "relax, freshman. just lean into it - I'm not gonna bite."
but they will, you're sure of it. you've seen their bite. but still, you do as they say. you want to please them, anyway, more than you want to complete the stupid dare. so you let the music guide how you move, you turn so your back is to jordan, leaning until your palms are on their spread thighs, and you rock your hips in slow circles. each sway bringing your ass closer to their crotch. you hear jordans intake of breath, the faint "goddamn," they let slip out when you arch your back. it fills you with light, knowing you're affecting them and not just being a joke. their hands end up assisting you, thumbs hooking through the belt loops on your ridiculously short shorts and guiding your hips back and forth against them. you're fully on their lap now, ass plush with their pelvis.
the people around you have moved on, the dare is technically over, but you dont stop. not when jordan grunts, "fuck," when your ass brushes against them, you feel them at your back again, "you're making me so fucking wet. who taught you to move like that, huh?"
you flush at the notion of turning jordan on. rocking against them harder. "no one," you gasp, clit throbbing. you feel their hands move again, palms smoothing up and down your thighs, your hips, gliding under the cheeks of your ass where they peek out of your shorts.
"so its all for me?" they sound pleased about that being true.
you nod, nearly squeaking when they suddenly shift, the hands becoming bigger, and you're being brought back, and they're lifting their pelvis just a little. you go hot when you feel the hard bulge of their cock press between your legs as they settle you fully into their lap.
"you keep humpin my dick like that with this fat fucking ass and im gonna have to take you upstairs."
n thats how you end up being the first and only freshman with their legs over jordans shoulder, moaning their name as they pump your fresh little pussy full ):
#poppy speaks#im thinking of sleazy jordan sorry i need them bad. i yearn. and yearn.#jordan li x reader#jordan li smut
688 notes
·
View notes
Text
SEX WITH JORDAN IS TWO VERY DIFFERENT EXPERIENCES.
Solely depending on which form they shift into during or before.
When they're in their female form, they’re a top with a touch of submission, like the minute you whisper in their ear what you want to do to them, they’re switching to that submissive side.
They’re letting you climb on top of them, letting you take complete control. Letting you kiss down their body, smiling down at you when your teeth bite into the flesh of their tits. Your tongue smoothing over the mark you’ve just made.
Sucking on the skin, knowing they’ll have to walk around for weeks with your mark on them. They'll complain about it, but you catch them smiling at in the mirror when they’re getting dressed.
Letting you make them come against your mouth twice before they can’t stand it anymore and they’re groaning, pulling you up by the cheeks to kiss you with passion, teeth, and tongue. Moaning at their own taste as they push your back into the mattress.
The roles quickly switched.
Jordan never passes up the chance to be in complete control. To have their fingers between your thighs, watching the way your body arches and rolls to the pleasure they’re giving you as their thumb rubs your clit and their fingers fuck your pussy, deep, and rhythm with the buck of your hips. Their mouth on your neck, moving across your chest to close their lips around your nipple.
They feel almost powerful with the knowledge—with seeing how they can make you feel—that they can bring out those weak-pleasure-fueled noises from you, that if they curl their fingers, you’ll be clinging to them, begging and pleading, breathing into their mouth like it’s your last one, like if they don’t let you come, you’ll go insane. Like you’re their saint, and you only need absolution from them.
And when they have their cunt pressed to yours, palm pressed under your chin, against your neck, to keep your eyes on them, their words come out heavy and heated, “it’s only me, right? Only I can make you feel like this? Can make you come this hard?”, your answer wrapped around a pretty moan, fingers digging into their hips to press them harder against you—they feel invincible.
But when they’re in their male form, it’s different. They’re different. They lose that dominant edge and shift into something more lenient. Something akin to a service top, with submission hanging at the cusp.
They’ll still lace their fingers with yours and press them into the mattress, making you feel like they’re the ones in control. Like they could do whatever they want to your body and know you’d love it and ask for more.
But deep down, you both know you’re the one in control.
You’re the one that’s driving them completely insane. That they want to please. Make come over and over until your thighs are wet and sticky, and they lap it up with their tongue. Use the head of their cock to gather the slick at your entrance and rub it against your clit. Make you come one more time just by using the tip of their cock.
Your begs for them to stick it in, “please, Jordan, please,” one of the prettiest things they’ve heard.
Making them smile against your lips as they squeeze your chin between your thumb and pointer to bring your mouth up to theirs.
“Anything for you,” they say against your open mouth as they slip their cock into your heat. The slow stretch makes your nails dig into the side of their arm.
The thrusts and speed of their hips all dependent on what you want. What you moan and whimper into their skin, mouth. How your body moves against there’s, underneath it, with it. How your pussy squeezes them.
“Come for me, one more time, I promise,” the wet squelch of their cock fucking you matched with the fingers drawing circles against your clit undoing you.
And when you switch positions, when you take the reigns and wrap your lips around the tip of their cock, letting your tongue lap up your own come, that’s when that submissive side comes out.
The whimpers heaved out of Jordan’s lungs, the push of their hips off the bed, driving their cock deeper into your throat. Their brows pinched together, eyes glossy, needy. Fingers on your cheek, your head, in the bed sheets.
It’s fucking beautiful.
They’re fucking beautiful.
“Let me fuck your throat. Can I–fuck–can I fuck your throat, baby?”
“Please.”
“Yes, please.”
Their fingers dig into the side of your skull, the closer they are to coming. But even that’s soft. The thrusts fucking up into your mouth are hurried, fast, and hard, but still softer than they could be. Still gentle in that careful way of Jordan wanting you to enjoy this just as much as they are.
When they come down your throat, they watch you swallow. Their eyes watching your throat move, lips twitching in a soft smile. A hand cupping the back of your neck to bring you against their chest to lay. A finger under your chin to lift your head far enough for them to lean down and kiss you.
#jordan li smut#jordan li x reader#jordan li headcanon#jordan li x you#jordan li imagine#jordan li concept#jordan li x y/n#gen v smut#jordan li x female reader#gen v fanfiction#jordan li fic
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Bad PR-Jordan Li Fic
A/N: I saw someone post about needing a fic about Jordan being in a relationship where they're "unmarketable" and haven't been able to get the idea out of my head since. This is written with a black reader in mind. I also have a sequel in mind if anyone wants it.
Word Count: 3739
Warnings: Some sensuality and swearing.
I don't claim to own any characters or property from Gen V or The Boys. All credit to the original gif creators.
Silence was something that I always thought I longed for. Every day for the past twenty years, there was noise, whether it was someone (usually multiple) talking, music blasting, cars going by, or screaming. By now, I thought I would have learned how to tune it out and focus on what was most important: save the little kids from a burning school, study as hard as I could to get into GOD U, and manipulate social media algorithms so much it would make tech experts’ heads spin.
But, I hadn’t. Then, I thought I got used to the noise, the demands to take pictures with total strangers, the background noise of a song I was doing a TikTok challenge to, Liza, my Vought-assigned PR rep, and my parents insisting on what I should wear, and the constant buzzing in the back of my head that my ability caused. However, as I laid on Jordan’s bed, listening to them ramble about Brink, I didn’t mind the noise so much.
“I mean, he’s kind of a mad genius but for good,” Jordan stated. Then, they turned to me with a sheepish smile on their face. “Sorry, I’m boring you, aren’t I?”
I shook my head. “No, no, it’s alright. Brink’s brilliant and it’s amazing that you’re his mentee.” I pushed myself up onto my elbows. “Besides, you’re pretty cute when you’re excited.”
Jordan rolled their eyes and slowly made their way towards me, stopping right at the foot of their bed. “Only when I’m excited?”
“Shut up, you know you always look good,” I teased.
They playfully flipped their hair and batted their eyes. “Well, we can’t all have a glam squad on call so I appreciate it.”
I scoffed, rose to my knees, and playfully pushed their shoulder only for them to switch to their masculine form and grab my hand. “That’s not fair and I didn’t even ask for them, my parents and Liza insisted on it when I got in.”
Jordan nodded but I could tell they weren’t listening since their eyes were on my lips. “I don’t feel like talking anymore.”
Something about their deeper masculine voice sent tingles down my spine and made my stomach feel fuzzy. Then again, they easily caused the same effect in both forms. My breath caught in my throat as soon as our lips touched, and I could feel my heart rate pick up. I tried to relax in their gentle but firm grip as I wrapped my hands around their neck, but it was easier said than done.
Suddenly, my back was against their bed and the kissing got more fervent. Jordan slipped their tongue down my throat and trailed one of their hands down my leg. I shivered as they pulled my leg up around their hip and pressed further into me.
“I should’ve known this is what you meant when you said you wanted to hang out,” I breathed after pulling away for a second.
“I had good intentions but you kept screwing me with your eyes,” Jordan huffed back.
“No, I---” Jordan cut me off, switching to their feminine form and kissing my jaw, working their way down my neck. “Not…fair.”
One of their hands slowly started trailing up under my (their) sweatshirt and I tried to stifle my giggles at the soft touch. After a couple of seconds, I couldn’t help but start giggling and covered my face when Jordan paused their actions and looked up at me.
“Still ticklish?” Jordan teased.
“Shut up, it’s your fault since they're your hands,” I groaned through another laugh.
Jordan smirked at me and ran their hands down my waist, gently tapping my sides, causing more laughter on my end. I tried to reach for their hands to stop them but they were too good at dodging me. At some point during my laughter, my phone started ringing.
“Ignore it,” Jordan whined as they pressed their head against my stomach, their big brown eyes somehow looking bigger and browner than usual.
“I can’t,” I whined back as I pulled away from them and grabbed my phone from my desk. “It’s Liza, I have to answer.”
Jordan rolled their eyes. “That bitch has the worst timing.”
“She might not be able to help it.” I quickly answered the phone. “Hey, Liza.”
“Y/N, I’m on campus and we need to talk ASAP. Meet me outside the Crimefighting building in five,” Liza rattled off.
“Oh, sure, what’s it about?” I asked.
“I’ll tell you when I see you.”
She clicked off and I turned to Jordan, who was much less than pleased.
“Let me guess, you have to go,” they said.
“I’m sorry, it sounded important,” I said as I started grabbing my stuff from around their room. “I’ll try to make it quick.”
“No, don’t worry about it.” They pushed themselves off the bed and stood in front of me, gently grabbing my hands in theirs. “It’s your career and I’m proud of you. I knew what I was getting into when the Cyclone became my girlfriend.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Ugh, don’t say it like that. But I appreciate you and I will show you as much later.” I quickly kissed them and grabbed my shoes. Just as I was about to leave, I paused at something in their closet. “Is that my jacket?”
Jordan shook their head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I snatched the item from the closet and held it out. “Jordan, you’re going to try to convince me that you’re into vintage Yves Saint Laurent?”
“Your taste rubbed off on me,” they said with a shrug.
“I’m flattered.” I put it back in their closet.
“By the way, do you know where my black hoodie went?”
“See you later!”
About four and a half minutes later, I was sitting at an outdoor table with Liza and my parents. Despite the summer heat, Liza was wearing a navy skirt suit, and her graying black hair was tied into a severe bun on the top of her head. She was typing on two different phones and her laptop simultaneously, deep blue eyes never staying on anything too long. My mom, who sat on my right, smiled kindly.
“So, Y/N, how does it feel to be a junior?” she asked.
“Great, Mom. I thought I told you and Dad that you didn’t have to hover this much since I am a junior now,” I said, glancing at my dad who was on my other side.
“We’re not hovering, it’s been two days since we dropped you off,” Dad insisted. “Besides, this is about business.”
“Wha---”
“Oh my gosh, is that Y/N Y/L/N?” Someone squealed behind me.
“Show time,” I sighed.
The “someone” was actually two someones, a pair of what looked like freshmen. One was a tall, pretty brunette in a white graphic tee and matching mini skirt and the other was an equally pretty, slightly shorter brunette wearing jean shorts and Vans. The taller one held her V-Phone with a death grip.
“Can we take a picture with you?” The taller one asked.
“Of course.” I stood from my seat and made my way over to them.
“I can take it.” But before my mom could stand, Liza shot up from her seat, grabbed the phone, and ushered us closer together.
“Okay, Y/N in the middle, Tall Girl on the left, Short One on the right,” Liza instructed, eyes never looking up from the camera.
“It’s Ashley,” the short one said.
“Smile!”
I did as I was told and the girls were walking away before I could even say an obligatory, “No problem.”
Both my parents smiled as I sat back down.
“It’s great to see that you’re still popular after all this time,” Dad said, his eyes hidden behind his tinted sunglasses.
“As she should be. Y/N has thirty million followers across all her social media and she does amazing in the Midwest and the South, both tough demographics for young black women,” Liza stated.
“Thanks, Liza,” I said, mindlessly playing with the ends of my butterfly locs. “So, you mentioned you were coming but left out my parents.”
At this, Liza finally paused from typing and looked up at me. She slowly set her elbows on the table and rested her chin on top of her pale hands. My head involuntarily started shaking from side to side and Liza lifted one of her hands.
“Let me speak first, Y/N, and then we can argue about it,” Liza stated.
“The last time you said that, I ended up almost getting mauled by a dog during an animal shelter livestream,” I hissed.
“Well, the dog had a serious history of trauma,” Liza insisted.
“You didn’t inform me of that before insisting I cuddle with it for the camera!”
“It was a learning lesson: you are fantastic under pressure.”
I huffed and folded my arms over my chest. “So, what is this about?”
Liza assumed her previous “Serious business” pose. “Like I was saying, you’re doing fantastic numbers. That last TikTok you and Cate did hit a hundred million views in less than twenty-four hours.”
“The ‘Rover’ challenge wasn’t that hard,” I commented.
“That’s amazing!” Mom practically cheered.
“That’s my girl,” Dad said, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.
I smiled despite the strong sense that a “but” was coming.
“However,” Liza continued.
Uh oh.
“My job is to do everything in my power to make sure everyone associates Y/N Y/L/N and Cyclone with beauty, intelligence, grace, taste, and power. So, we are a little concerned about Jordan.”
Immediately, my shoulders tensed and I gritted my teeth. “Who exactly is ‘we’?” I glanced at my parents.
Mom’s eyes widened and I had no idea what Dad was doing.
“No, of course not, Sweetie, we love Jordan. They have been a fantastic influence on you,” Mom insisted.
I could feel my face warm up about what had transpired with Jordan a few minutes ago. I doubt that would fall under “good influence”, or any time we went out with the others.
“And they give you a run for your money when it comes to combat. You need someone challenging like them. Plus, that Luke boy isn’t bad either,” Dad added.
As their words sunk in, I had a strange feeling that my parents were there to lessen a Vought-sized blow. My suspicions were confirmed when Liza’s lips pressed more firmly together and she was glancing at one of her phones.
“Are you reading a script right now?” I seethed.
Liza’s head shot up and she shook her head. “No, no, Y/N, not at all. Just some notes.” She quickly regrouped. “I understand that you’re happy and you’re probably having some fantastic sex right now----”
“Liza!” I interrupted, praying that the ground would open and swallow me whole.
Suddenly, Dad’s arm was back at his side, and Mom was suddenly very captivated by a pair of seniors skateboarding past.
“But the facts are that a bi-gender Asian supe is not marketable in the Deep South or the Midwest,” Liza said. “I am not shaming Jordan for who they are but, my job is to sustain your relatable-but-unattainable brand and not let anything get in the way of it.”
“You’re saying my partner is a threat to my career?” I asked, my voice much hollower than I intended.
“Potentially. Now, I have come up with a very good alternative.” Liza turned her laptop so it was facing my parents and me. On it was a picture of Andre and some clips of us on social media. “Andre Anderson tested very well. Our focus group members responded positively to the black power couple aesthetic.”
“We’ve met him before, he’s nice,” Mom offered.
“He’s cool and I’ve met his dad and I could see us all getting along,” Dad mentioned.
My head was swirling with so many thoughts that I was convinced I was either going to be overwhelmed by them or find one that was coherent enough to state. My mouth settled on, “It’s the twenty-first century and you’re all telling me I have to break up with my partner because of demographics? Jordan’s an amazing supe and they’re so smart, it’s scary. They can do---will do so much good and the only thing you care about is optics?”
Mom gently touched my arm. “Y/N, please, calm down.”
When I glanced around, I noticed that several Vought-A-Burger wrappers, a couple of cigarettes, and a few panicked squirrels and rabbits were swirling around the table. Quickly, I released the small animals and put the trash in the nearby receptacle.
“Sorry about that,” I muttered, eyeing Liza.
“I understand that you have strong feelings for Jordan but, think about it. With the right moves, you could be living in The Tower with the legends of your generation. Sure, you’re number three at GOD U right now, but this status can easily go away. You’ve worked your entire life to be the hero that little black girls everywhere look up to. Don’t take Cyclone away from them before she even starts,” Liza warned.
I desperately wanted to say something snarky, but my mind was blank. The only thing I could sense was my throat tightening up and my eyes beginning to well. I brushed a loc out of my face to play it off and tried to gain my thoughts.
“How much time do I have before I make a decision?” I asked.
“Twenty-four hours. I’ll be looking out for your call, text, email, or video call,” Liza stated as she started to pack her things.
My parents stood and Mom gave me one of her warm hugs and Dad pulled me to his side.
“It will be okay, Y/N,” he whispered.
I swallowed the giant lump in my throat to thank him and then insisted on walking them back to their car.
A few hours later, Elle Woods was sobbing in the fanciest restaurant in California while I carefully placed my baking pan in the oven. As much as I wanted to sob, I had no time for tears, I had to think. The thinking led me to have so many circular thoughts that my head spun and I resorted to baking and watching my favorite movie.
If Elle could solve a murder case and exonerate her client as a first-year law student, I should be able to figure out this PR mess. On the one hand, I was happier with Jordan than I’ve ever been with anyone. On the other hand, my dreams and my family’s position were hanging by a thread.
Maybe it was better that I channeled my energy into baking cupcakes.
I exhaled a small gust of wind to clear the bowls and utensils from the counter and place them in the dishwasher. Then, I focused on pushing multiple gusts of wind from my hands to clean the counters and wash the dishes. By the time I was done, I was exhausted and flopped on my couch to mindlessly watch the movie.
Unfortunately, the bright and colorful backdrop of Elle’s LSAT studying montage did nothing to take my mind off my dilemma. All I could think about was Jordan’s face when I told them. Breaking up with them would be like shooting a puppy’s mom in front of the puppy and making it watch it bleed out.
How would I tell them anyway? Hey, babe, I’m sorry I had to run out on us almost hooking up to meet with Liza and my parents. Funny story, they want me to break up with you so that I have a shot at a career and date Andre instead. See you for that morning lecture?
Knock! Knock! Knock!
The sound jolted me from my thoughts, and I pushed myself off the couch to answer it. “Rufus, if you try to get me into your room again, I swear to----” I cut myself off at the sight of Jordan, in their feminine form, staring back at me.
They wore a navy sweatshirt and black sweatpants. Also, their cheeks were more flushed than usual and they smelled like their sandalwood body wash, meaning they had probably stopped by the gym recently.
“Is Rufus bothering you again? I’ll go murder him right now,” Jordan said.
I quickly grabbed their wrist. “No, I appreciate the thought but I’m fine, besides, I can take care of myself.”
“I know but I can’t help but worry.”
A strange warm, tingling sensation ran its way from the center of my chest throughout the rest of my body. I was sure that if someone listened closely enough, they would hear me buzzing.
I stepped aside to let Jordan in and leaned against the door to close it. “So, what brings you by?”
They wandered over to my couch, sat down, and grabbed my phone off the coffee table. “Because you haven’t been answering my texts or calls.”
“Crap, I am so sorry, Jordan, I’ve just had a lot on my mind.”
Jordan glanced around my dorm. “I can see that.” They sniffed the air. “Legally Blonde and you’re baking, what happened at the meeting?”
Of course, Jordan would cut straight to the point. Usually, this kind of banter was pleasant but my stomach was in knots as Liza’s words and my parents’ expressions replayed in my mind.
“What? I can’t bake and watch a comfort movie after a last-minute PR meeting?” I asked rhetorically, crossing the room to my desk to start organizing my textbooks.
“Don’t try to deflect, Y/N. Tell me what happened.” Their voice was gentle but firm and I knew that they were not going to let me out of this conversation.
So, I set Brink’s latest book down and sat across from Jordan on my tangerine accent chair. I prayed that I would find the right words to say before blurting them out. As soon as I made eye contact with them, my chest tightened.
“Well, Liza surprised me by having my parents join us,” I started.
Jordan raised their eyebrows. “Shit, this is serious.”
“Uh-huh. Liza said that my numbers are doing great and I’m on track for a promising career.”
“And?”
I gulped. “And…she’s concerned that my personal choices might get in the way of that.”
Jordan frowned. “Personal choices? Every college kid known to man has done illicit substances and drank alcohol underage. You’ve never been caught doing any of that anyway.”
“You’re right but she wasn’t talking about partying; she was talking about us.”
As soon as the bomb rolled off my tongue, I saw its impact on Jordan, from the flashing expressions of confusion and anger to the clenching of their fists. I just wanted to make it stop.
“What?”
As I rambled Liza’s reasoning, I could sense the hurt and animosity flowing from Jordan. Once I finished, the timer for the cupcakes went off and I jumped up to grab them. I could have cried at the momentary escape as I set them on the counter to cool.
“She weaponized your desire to be a positive role model for other girls who look like you to screw you over,” Jordan said slowly.
I wiped my hands on my sweatpants. “Liza’s doing her job, babe, and she’s looking at all angles, including how it could impact my goals.” I returned to my seat and folded my hands in my lap.
“Her job is to make you choose between your relationship and your career?” Jordan asked. “That’s bullshit, this whole thing is.”
“I know, Jordan, trust me, I know, I almost started a small tornado when she said it.”
Jordan eyed me closely for a second. “What else did she say?”
“What?”
“I can tell you’re holding back, Y/N. Whatever else you have to say, it can’t be any worse.”
They might have just jinxed that.
“Liza thinks that Andre would be a better fit for me because a bunch of people like the idea of a black power couple.”
Jordan had two angry responses: the first was they would attempt to tear down anything and everything around them unless consoled. The second was they would become unresponsive and deal with all their rage internally. That night, I got the second one. Their eyes were hollow and the color drained from their face. My eyes welled up as I hoped for them to start screaming, swearing, or something, but nothing happened.
“But I don’t want to do it, Jordan, I think it’s so stupid.” I knelt in front of them, grabbed my phone from their hands, and set it aside to hold them. “My parents don’t even really agree with Liza because they know you and they think you’re awesome.”
“What do you think?” they muttered.
“Like I said, I think it’s stupid. We can figure something else out. Liza can spin us as the ultimate diverse power couple, huh?” I did my best to smile as widely as I could. “Come on, let’s forget about this. I made white velvet cupcakes with cream cheese filling. You can be my first taste tester once they cool.”
Things would work out, they had to. We would figure something out and survive our junior year at GOD U with little to no incidents. Suddenly, Jordan’s hands slipped from my grasp and they shifted to their masculine form.
“What if it doesn’t work out?” Jordan whispered.
“What do you mean?” I replied.
“I mean, you don’t necessarily have to be a supe but, I know that you’re scared for your parents. Your success has helped them a lot and it could destroy them if your reputation takes a hit,” they said. “And I’ve seen how little black girls light up when they see you now and how passionate you are about helping them and, I know that you’re just getting started and I don’t want to be in the way.”
“Jordan…”
“I don’t want to hold you back anymore, Y/N,” they muttered.
Their words sunk deep into my core like a boulder and took all my words with it. I wanted to tell them that they could never hold me back and that they made me a better super, a better person. But all I could do was watch as they stood and walked out of my dorm, taking our one and a half year relationship with them.
665 notes
·
View notes
Text
Bigender asian with pronoun fuckery
synopsis: you're a rising star at godu. just cracked the top ten but a budding relationship with jordan li may bring everything crumbling down
pairing: jordan li x fem!reader
words: 5.2k+
a/n - not sure how i feel about this but i am putting it out there. if this gets enough attention, I can work on another part that goes a little deeper?? I use all pronouns for Jordan but mainly they/them
WARNINGS - swearing and drug use
a groggy groan slips past your lips as you bury your face further into the gentle embrace of the pillow. it is early. too early. you have no clue what time it actually is but whatever the case may be, you weren't ready for the day to start just yet. it takes a moment to realise you're alone in this bed. you hadn't been when you fell asleep. it doesn't bother you too much though. they're probably just getting ready. that is until you hear a curse word muttered quietly; perhaps an attempt to not disturb you or maybe they just wanted to hide their frustration. "what are you doing?" your words half muttered into the pillow.
"rankings are out." that was it? rankings? you sometimes forget how competitive they can be. it's not like you're not interested. you've wanted that top spot since freshman year. alas, golden boy holds that spot and you'd never be a pretty blonde white boy if you tried. this semester you've been working extra hard. Everyone knows you're in the best chance of scoring a city contract if you can break the top ten but the seven? they want the best of the best. sure it's not impossible to be lower and also become part of the team, the deep managed it, but that was an anomaly. most supes just end up as walking advertisements for vought. and as much as you may enjoy the occasional acting class. you weren't here to end up on some CW show or a Netflix special. you were gonna make it into the seven. you were gonna prove to everyone that you are one of the best.
"who cares," you mumble, rolling onto your back and spreading your arms out wide.
"oh, so you don't care that you're now second."
"come back to bed." you urge. a silence seals the room until your brain catches up to what it just heard. did they say second? as in second place? as in one spot away from first? you didn't mishear that. sitting up, you eventually spy a feminine presenting Jordan sitting at her desk, illuminated by the blue glow of their tablet. their short bob falls to one side. a perfect backdrop for such a pretty face "Are you fucking with me?" they don't bother responding just shove the tablet out in your direction. grabbing it you see your school ID photo with a massive '#2' next to it. you blink a few times. scroll down a little. refresh the page. but again it's still there. it was real. "fuck"
"My thoughts exactly," Jordan reacts. you glimpse at them wondering what that comment means. it could merely be a jest or a reflection of their current mood. you take a moment to look at the rest of the list in search of their name. they were no longer top three. you found them sitting nicely at number five. double fuck. you had taken their spot. they're still top ten which most would be happy with but not Jordan. tossing the tablet aside, you drop back against the bed. letting your eyes fall closed. "we have class in like an hour."
"I don't need to go to class. I'm number two now," you press.
"not how that works," A dramatic groan falls past your lips, pulling the covers up over your head. bed sounded better than a morning lecture. you wish they would just join you or leave you be. "get out of my bed." Jordan huffs after a moment. "we're gonna be late." you don't move. you frankly don't care. "if you don't hurry up, no breakfast."
"fucks sake." you whine, emerging from beneath the darkness of the duvet. "fine. I'll let you buy me Jitterbean."
"thought so," they offer you a tight smile. you could never say no to a free treat before class. "chop-chop."
Drink in one hand, pastry in the other, you're feeling brighter as you stroll into class. Jordan trails behind you. they'd been usually quiet on the walk over. you put it down to all the attention you were attracting today. couldn't even walk across campus without people asking for pictures or saying hi. you weren't sure you liked it just yet but for right now it was fine. when you spot cate you offer a scrunched up smile which she quickly returns. you and cate had been friends since day one. something just clicked. "there she is," cate starts as you approach your usual spot in class. "the girl of the hour. you're literally all anyone can talk about."
"aren't i always," you tease.
"we're going out tonight"
"are you asking-" you begin as Dean Shetty strides into the room. guess brink was out today. "or telling me?"
"telling," cate's smile quirks up before she turns to focus on the class. guess that was the end of that conversation.
you linger by your desk as everyone else filters out of the room after class. Dean Shetty requested a word. you can't imagine what it's about. surely she isn't that bothered by your attempts at chatting through her lecture. you offer up an awkward little smile as you push off the desk you were leaning against; slowly making you way across the room. "so what have I done wrong?"
"you mean other than talking through the entire class," you internally cringe a little. maybe she was bothered by all the whispering. she watches you for a moment before continuing. "it is nothing like that. don't worry."
"then why am I here?"
"I just thought we should have a little chat." your brow furrows. what did you and the dean of an entire university have to discuss? was this about your ranking? was she about to tell you there had been a mistake? "I believe congratulations are in order- such an extensive jump in ranking, you must be proud."
this felt like a conversation that could have been an email. "sure. thanks." you shrug. you're not really sure what to say. of course, you're proud. you were the second highest ranked student in a school of exceptional kids. "is that all?"
"no," her head shakes a little. I wanted to make sure you understand the gravity of the position you're in." when you don't respond she decides to just continue. "being a superhero is about more than just your abilities. it's also about how you present yourself. people care about you. they wanna know what you're doing. who you're hanging out with. One minute you're taking a picture with a nice girl you met at a party the next you're fighting nazi allegations for hanging out with a white supremacist. do you get what I'm saying?"
you shrug. "don't hang out with nazis, got it."
"I'm saying you need to look at yourself more like a brand. Be careful about what you say and who you spend your time with. you're the sum of the people around you."
"I know. I took branding." everyone knew how this worked. being a good person only took you so far and if homelander was anything to go off, that doesn't even matter that much. it's all about how you market yourself. it's about how many followers you have. how much attention you can get. inevitably, how much money can you make for Vought? Dean Shetty smiles but it doesn't quite reach her eyes.
"you do want to be number one, correct?" you nod a little. "I want to help you get to the top but only if you wanna help yourself."
"what about Luke?"
"he is far from my concern right now." what did that even mean? "so?"
you hesitate. you did want this but you weren't entirely sure what you were agreeing to here. If Dean Shetty can help you secure first place though, maybe it was worth the risk. she was an expert here. should you even bother questioning why the sudden interest in you? "I want this."
"Good," her smile seemed more genuine now. "I know you can go far, just keep in mind what I said."
"I will," you start edging towards the stuff you left on your desk. "thanks."
"also try listening during lectures. I'm sure you and Miss Dunlap can talk some other time."
"Sorry." with that you practically run out of the classroom before she can continue talking.
it's a particularly chilly night smushed in the back seat of an old car. bright lights zoom past the window and music blasts through the speakers. you're not really paying attention to the noise around you. it's a mess of meaningless conversation. Dean Shetty's words play over in your head. She certainly would not approve of this little venture out into the night past curfew; what she didn't know couldn't hurt her. Jordan eventually pulls your attention; in his hand, he holds two small red pills. you don't really question it before popping one into your mouth. a second for later. tonight was gonna be fun or if nothing else you can abuse enough substances to pretend. the secret location is just a massive warehouse. on the outside, you'd think it any old thing. inside you find massive tanks of rainbow fish, long sweeping curtains, jester-themed masquerade masks and other eccentric decor. it is the most random selection and yet it works so well. creates the perfect balance of sexy and mysterious but inviting. you find yourself in a booth with your friends all around. "so how's being number two going for ya?" Andre asks. "feeling the pressure yet?"
"I don't know," you shrug. "people are weird."
"what do you mean?" Luke questions.
"Dean Shetty said some things to me after class."
"-I come bearing gifts." Jordan appears, now in their feminine form with a couple of drinks followed by Marie. "courtesy of the young gentleman at the bar."
"What did Dean Shetty say?"
"it doesn't matter." you shrug it off. "two will never be one right."
"has it not hit yet?" Jordan wonders.
"i know what it's like to suddenly have all this pressure on you but try not to think about it much," Luke reassures you. "just keep doing what you're doing. you've got this."
"my guy. you're supposed to be happy here," Andre leans forward slapping his hand against your leg. "we're out here celebrating you, dude. cheer up."
"I'm plenty happy," you grumble sinking further into your seat. you appreciate their attempt to cheer you up but it's honestly not needed. you're happy to be in second place even with all the newly founded pressure; just a little confused about what was expected of you. "ecstatic even. let's talk about something else."
your head feels fuzzy. nothing feels real anymore. but it's good. great even. you feel so fucking good. like you've rid yourself of every lingering thought that wrapped itself around your body. you're light. you're free. the shimmering blue of the giant fish tanks is so mesmerising; you almost want to climb in but instead, you watch. colours morphing and shifting before your eyes. back and forth. back and forth. you jump a little as something touches your shoulder. "here you are." their words seem distant; muffled even. "you good?" you nod a little continuing to stare at the fish. two hands slip around your waist and connect in front. you feel their body press into yours from behind. you know it's Jordan. you know they're masc. You know them well. their smokey cologne. the way their body feels around you. the subtle differences between both forms. taller. bigger. firm. you let out a content hum. it's a rarity for such open affection. "what are you doing?" whispered in your ear.
"Just watching the fish,"
"why?"
"do you ever wonder what it would be like to be a fish?" you wonder softly. "to just swim around all day without a care in the world… no complex family systems. no pressure to be the best. just… swimming and pretty colours." their chuckle is temperate. affectionate. it almost seems like they somehow get closer.
"you're fucked, huh?"
"I'm good. I'm great," you respond. they just chuckle again, planting a soft kiss on your shoulder. your relationship with Jordan was hardly one of romance. you have slept together. a few times actually. and some kind of feelings are there; at least for you there are but you're not dating. you're just… having fun. maybe you want more. who knows? you don't. would they even want more? probably not. you'd like it. maybe. doesn't matter. they make you feel warm. safe even. and that's all that really matters.
"shall we get you a drink?" you nod a little. "yeah?"
"yeah," you repeat nodding more eagerly. a dopey smile settling on your lips as you let your head fall back; nuzzling against him. "something fruity, please."
"let's get you something fruity," arms vacate your waist replaced with a hand in yours.
"bye fishies," you throw a wave back. "say bye Jordan."
"Absolutely not." they interlock your fingers before leading the way back into the turbulent crowd of the club.
"you're no fun." you groan playfully. weaving through the mass of people back towards the bar, you come across cate. as you approach, Jordan let's go.
"you found her then," shouted over the heavy bass and mess of voices.
"she was alone staring at the fish tanks," they respond.
"the fish were really pretty," you contribute with a bright smile.
"you gotta stop running off, silly."
"but the fishies-"
"I know they're pretty but still," cate continues. "do you wanna come dance?"
"hmmm… yes." you respond brightly. "jordan's gonna get me a drink. jordan get cate one too."
"yeah Jordan, get cate one too." cate repeats playfully. her hand slides into yours and she pulls you towards the dance floor. it's a lot of blurred colours as you sway and move alongside the blonde. she wears a playful smile and smells so good. really sweet. like freshly baked cookies. "are you good?"
"mhmm,"
"you sure?" it's so loud out here. there are so many people around you. it's hard to pick up what is being said.
"I am so good, cate," you respond loudly. "I mean definitely fucked but yeah. are you good?"
"yeah," she nods. "I'm-" the rest of her sentence is impossible to comprehend.
"what?"
cate places her hands on your shoulders bringing you to a stop as she leans in extra close. "i said i'm proud of you."
"you're starting to sound like my mom," you joke. she playfully hits your arm. "but thank you."
"i think you could actually take luke's spot."
"i definitely can." you declare proudly. "dean shetty offered to help."
"really?" cate seems shocked by the idea. "why?"
you shrug. "i'm gonna be in the seven one day." you yell loudly. nobody cares. everyone is being loud. it'd drowned out by everything else. cate stares at you for a moment before letting her smile return.
"fuck yeah, you are," cate shouts. your smile brightens. fuck yeah, you are.
your head pounds with the weight of your bad decisions. maybe you went a little too hard. Nausea settles deep in the pit of your stomach. you think you're gonna throw up. you don't. you breathe deeply through it. a long groan forces its way past your lips as you roll onto your back; stretching out your limbs as far as they go to very little relief. A pain radiates from your left leg. god only knows why. you're just a little achy. how did you even get here? the last thing you remember is dancing with Cate; having fun.
"she's alive," the voice catches you off guard. it sounds like… wait. your eyes finally focus on the person in the room who definitely wasn't your roommate. that black hair. that pretty face. the effortless expression of too cool to be here. jordan li is still in the exact same outfit as last night. why were they here? "how's our newest celebrity?"
there were many ways you could answer but your brain could only come up with. "shitty."
"I bet," they approach the end of your bed, holding out a glass of water. "here."
you slowly push yourself up into a seated position. trying desperately to ignore the intense pressure building in your head. "why are you here?" you ask, accepting the glass and taking a long, big gulp.
"Jordan stayed all night," your roommate, Beth, interjects. By her tone, she was not happy with your newfound company. "would have been nice to know."
"I'm allowed to have people in our room, Beth." you hand the glass back to Jordan before falling back down against the bed. rubbing your eyes with your thumb and forefinger. "I wanna die."
"tell me next time." Beth continues to argue. "instead I wake up to a stranger in our room."
you groan loudly. this was too much talking for your poor delicate head to handle right now. "I'm right here, guys," Jordan insists. "I literally spoke to you last night."
"I'm making a point." your roommate argues. "I'd like a heads up."
"gooooood! okay- sorry," you groan. you really don't care this much
"Okay, well, I gotta go," Jordan hums. "wasn't supposed to stay this long just wanted to make sure you're cool."
"I'm fine. go," you wave a dismissive hand as your eyes flutter close. "thanks for getting me home."
"any time," their weight leaves the bed and you roll onto your side to face the wall. pulling the duvet closer around your body. "I'll text you- bye Beth."
"bye Jordan." you hear the door click and an uncomfortable silence fills the room. it's preferable to the loud conversation that just happened. it's a relief to your head. you just want to go back to sleep. "they must really like you."
urgh. you don't want to talk anymore. "yeah, jordans cool."
"no, I mean, they like you," Beth continues on. you bury yourself further into your cocoon of pillows and duvet. "stayed the whole night just to keep an eye on you. I said it was fine- you'd be fine but they insisted."
Jordan insisted? just how fucked up were you that Jordan li of all people would stay the night just to make sure you were okay? you guys were good friends but most of the time they were either bullying you or treating you like a child which is like a subset of bullying you. you remember them wrapping their arms around you as you watched the fish last night. you've seen Jordan's softer side obviously but yeah. "we're just friends, dude."
"All I know is that Jordan li, as far as I've seen and heard, would not do that for just anyone. they're into you."
"sure. fine. whatever." you growl. you just wanted this conversation to end. Jordan was cool but if you think about this for too long your head is gonna explode. right now, sleep was what you needed. "Jordan Li is in love with me. I'm going back to sleep." it's hard not to think about what Beth suggested. that Jordan was into you as more than just a friend and occasionally fuck buddy. is that something you should talk about? What if Beth was wrong and you bring it up and it makes things super weird? you can't handle that. you have like a million classes together, you would never be able to escape them.
it was a bright sunny day in the quad of Godolkin University. you sit in the courtyard. a laptop, criminology textbooks and a water bottle spread across the table. you have an essay due in a few days. you had sat down to work on this essay multiple times with a beautiful blank document and many hours on TikTok to show for it. "hey," your TikTok time is interrupted by none other than Jordan Li. you had not seen them since that night or morning. you hadn't really spoken either. you weren't avoiding them by any means. you were just busy and they hadn't seemed too eager to talk so. "hey," they say after a moment. "how's the essay going?"
"so great," you flash a smile. "I've written so much."
"that good, huh," they joke awkwardly taking a sip of their coffee. you just hum in response. you need to get this done. no time to add Jordan to the list of distractions. after a few moments of silence, they speak up again. "I was hoping we could talk
"Can this wait? I really need to get this done."
"I guess…" Jordan trailed off. you look at him for a moment. he seems disheartened by your request.
"what's up?"
"it… doesn't matter. don't worry." a small smile settles on their lips. "I should go."
"you sure?"
Jordan pushes up from their seat. "I'll see you later."
that was weird. definitely something you need to come back to later when you're not working on a deadline. for now, you had an essay to, at the very least, start.
"Have you spoken to Jordan recently?" you ask Cate as you slide into a booth at the on-campus Vought - a - burger. the smell of deep-fried food hangs heavy in the air and you know damn well this table is probably gonna be sticky as hell. "I feel like they're ignoring me."
"What makes you think that?"
"the fact that they're quite literally ignoring me. I've text them a couple times and nothing. even in class, they can hardly look at me." you reach into the bag to pull out the food; placing it on napkins in front of you. cate hands you your drink in exchange for her order. "I feel bad. they tried to talk to me the other day but I wanted to get my essay done."
"they've seemed fine to me but I've been working on a project for my hero management class." Cate shrugs. "is this about what happened the other night?"
"what happened the other night?" you questioned, popping a fry into your mouth. it actually tasted fresh and salty; guess you came at the correct time. you hate it when they're all soggy.
"I don't know if it's my place to say- you were pretty high."
"did I do something… bad?" you didn't remember that night but you never imagined you would ever do something inappropriate.
"no. not bad." you can tell she regrets bringing this up; whatever this is. torn between wanting to help and not overstepping boundaries. She is about to continue when two girls approach the table. freshmen you presume. you've never seen them before.
"Can we get a selfie?" the taller of the two requests. you frown a little.
"we're actually trying to have a private con-"
"it'll just take a minute," they turn around and hold the camera out, snapping a picture before you have a chance to react. "thanks." they scurry off almost immediately. you'll probably find yourself tagged in a picture on Instagram later. it had been happening a lot recently; so much so that you had to turn notifications off.
"the fuck?" you share a confused look with Cate. "people are so rude."
"they're just excited. you're basically a celebrity to them," Cate chuckles.
"do you think Jordan hates me now?" you wonder bringing the conversation back to Li.
"it's probably just because of the rankings."
"you mean because I took their spot?"
"Jordan has always been pretty intense when it came to rankings. they've wanted that top spot for as long as I've known them." Cate explains, hiding her mouth as she shoves more food into her mouth. "must suck that you just jumped to two and have the dean in your corner no less." you never really considered how Jordan must be handling all this. you knew they'd be a little upset but this seemed extreme.
"I never really thought about that," you sigh softly. "should I apologise?"
"I don't know," Cate resumes, biting the head off some fries. "if you think it'd help."
"I don't know why they didn't just tell me that when we first found out," you frown a little. "they were a little distant but they seemed cool when we went out."
"maybe you should just try talking to them," Cate suggests, picking up her drink. She takes a swift sip before continuing. "if it's about rankings or the other night- I don't know. only Jordan does."
"what happened the other night?" you ask again.
"ask Jordan."
"I'm asking you, Cate."
"you were just a lot and said some things."
"Cate!" you huff, falling back. you know Cate well. you know when she's avoiding something. "I know you're being cryptic so I give up on it."
"it's just not my place. it's between you and Jordan. I don't wanna get in the middle." Cate presses sharply. "did you get your essay done?"
"no," you shake your head. "I ended up getting an extension- how am I supposed to speak to them when they're ignoring me?"
"i don't know- can we please talk about something else?" Cate pleads.
"Sure," you hum softly. taking another fry you dip it into some sauce. "let's talk about how I'm about to fail criminology."
you text Jordan that you're coming over. It wasn't a question but a statement. no option to refuse. you needed to sort this out and being direct was the best approach. did every inch of your body buzz with anxiety as you made your way towards their dorm room? yes. but it beat constantly thinking about every little interaction you had with Jordan in the past week trying to figure out exactly what you had done wrong. the only blank spot was that night and Cate had unintentionally convinced you that you had done something absolutely awful. maybe you told them you hate them or invalidated their identity in some way? fuck. you swallow hard staring at their closed door. you shake out the nerves before knocking. knock. knock. knock. and the door swings open to reveal Jordan. "hey," they hum before retreating into the safety of their dorm. shutting the door behind you, you step inside the all too familiar space; you had been here a great many times and yet today there was a weird vibe. it felt foreign. cold even. "so what did you wanna talk about?" for a split second you almost forgot why you were here. you turn to Jordan who is sitting on the couch, a laptop thrown off to the side now. your eyes fall to the homelander Vought-a-burger toy that has somehow become a staple of this room. leader of the seven. currently facing major allegations. "you good?"
"Are you mad at me?" you blurt out. "is it about the rankings? I know they mean a lot to you and I basically took your spot so I get it if you're mad. it's a little unfair because I've always wanted this too but like I get it." your rambling but you can't help yourself. you need to get this all out as quickly as possible before your brain catches on and you chicken out. "And I'm sorry about the other day, I just really needed to get my essay done. I ended up getting an extension because I was so stressed out about it, I just couldn't start." you can't bring yourself to look at them. "or if I did something shitty on that night out. I'm sorry. it was fucked-"
"whoa dude, chill out," Jordan ultimately interrupts. "you're talking a lot." you dare a glance at them. their face is pretty neutral so you have no clue what was going on in their head. "what are you even asking?"
"why are you avoiding me?" you ask. "I've clearly done something wrong."
a heavy sigh leaves their lips as they fall back against the plush fabric. "I'll admit I was a little annoyed with the rankings at first but I'm working on it. this is like a really big deal for you."
"so you're not mad at me?" you sound so pathetic. an even bigger sigh leaves their lips. you're not sure what that means but nobody sighs that heavily for good reason. they push to their feet, crossing the room towards you.
"I'm not mad at you," they say softly as they approach. for a second they hold your gaze as they linger close but then they flicker away. "I'm just… confused."
"About what?" they take a step closer. so close. too close. their hot breath pricks at your skin but you don't dare move away. you almost feel drawn to them.
"Is this okay?" they say quietly.
"Are you only doing this so we'll stop talking about it?" their head shakes just a little.
"no," their hand graces over your neck and up to the bottom of your jaw. Their thumb gently brushes your skin, sending a chill down your spine. there would always be something about Jordan Li that made you melt inside. when they're here and so close, you almost forget all your worries. the way they look at you. like you're the only person in the world. a feather-like embrace is enough to send you spinning. "I don't think I can just be your friend anymore," whispered against your lips. "I… like you too." they pull back.
"Jordan,"
"I need you to say it- I need you to say it sober so I don't feel like a fucking idiot," say it sober? when did you say it in the first place? maybe this was what Cate was talking about. the thing you couldn't remember. you admitted to having feelings for Jordan. fuck.
"I…" you trail off, the words are caught in your throat. this is gonna change everything?
"It's cool," they declare loudly, letting their hand fall as they away. "I get it."
"no Jordan-"
"no it's fine. you were fucked. it didn't mean anything- I shouldn't have said anything."
"Jordan," you say louder, reaching out for their hand. a deep regret fills your stomach. you liked Jordan. they meant a lot to you and you were throwing it all away because you were scared; terrified even. if this doesn't work out then you ruin everything. there's no coming back from this.
"don't," they yank their hand away. "please don't. I don't want your pity."
"It's not pity."
"I don't get you." they huff. "you're all over me and then you want nothing to do with me. you tell everyone you like me but then… nothing? it's… confusing-"
"Jordan just- stop please," you say loudly. "I… like you, okay?"
"don't say things you don't mean."
"I mean it," you say a tad more confidently. "I like you." you try to reach for them again. they let you take their hand. " i don't know what it means exactly but I do… like you… too." you squeeze their hand slightly. it's warm and fits so perfectly in yours. they turn back to you with a smile. a small genuine smile that fills you with butterflies. they really did mean so much to you.
"so… now what?" they ask.
"I don't know." you pursed your lips, shrugging your shoulders. "but I do have to go."
"Seriously?"
"I have a meeting with Dean Shetty." you express. "I'm sorry. She wants me at some dinner so."
898 notes
·
View notes
Text
IMAGINE*
Imagine meeting Jordan's parents...in an awkward situation
***************
Warnings: sexual contact, Jordan is female-presenting during spicy times, girl on (technically) girl action, cunnilingus, Reader goes down on Jordan. Jordan's unsupportive parents, Jordan's favorite word is fuck. Must be 18+ for this imagine.
Things to Know: Reader will be female in this imagine
***************
"Good fucking girl..." they arched their back, pushing themself deeper into you. Their delicate fingers curled tighter into your hair, pulling your mouth closer to their heat. The words they had just spoken were forced out of gritted teeth. Shivers escaped them after every brush of your tongue against their clit. "Fuck..." they breathed out, bucking their hips into your mouth again. You hummed against their heat, looking up at them from between their legs, your mouth continuing its onslaught of tongue against their clit.
Their legs were thrown over your shoulders, your fingers digging into the muscles of their thighs that were parted on either side of your cheeks. They looked down at you through lust-filled eyes. Jordan had been having a rough day. Their father had called and said that he and Kayla would be making their way down to GODU in the next few days. They never specified when—fucking parents and their lack of giving detailed info—so Jordan has been tense from the neck down. They had been snippy with you a few times, and you had finally had enough.
Jordan had been huffy all morning. They had woken up stressed, they had attended to Brink's every whim stressed, they went to class stressed, they trained stressed, they went to the gym stressed, and they came back to your shared dorm stressed. They were beginning to stress you out. Jordan had been pacing back and forth in front of their bed, ranting about their parents. "What if they just said that to get a rise out of me? I mean, it's been fucking days babe! And so far, they're a fucking no-show!" Your partner had decided to start off male-presenting, their tall frame towering over your sitting frame that was resting on their bed.
You were watching them pace, not sure if anything you said would help. "Maybe...Maybe they were lying!" Jordan continued, before nodding to themself. "Yeah! My dad wouldn't come all the way down here for nothing." You nodded in response. "Yeah. Maybe. If that is the case, then you've been stressed out for absolutely nothing." Jordan glared at you unamused. "I'm just saying, baby. All that stress over the past few days... can't be good for you." You pointed out. "Well, that's not exactly my fault babe! You know how my fucking parents are."
You raised an eyebrow and a finger, pointing it towards your partner. "Okay one, don't snip at me. And two...yes. I do know how your parents are. Even if I have yet to meet them..." you sent them a small smile, lowering your finger and nudging them with your foot. They were still uptight. Their shoulders were curled up to their neck, they didn't smile back, just grimaced in an attempted smile. You let out a sigh, dragging your eyes over your lover. They had just gotten back from the gym. They were wearing a dark blue sweatshirt with black spandex shorts. They had tossed their gym bag to the side as soon as they had walked in.
"Alright! That's it. You need to relax." You stated, standing before patting the bed with your hand. Jordan had scoffed at your words before looking between you and their bed in confusion. You rolled your eyes before patting the bed again. "Like I said; you need to relax. So...pull down your fucking shorts, lay down on your bed, and let me either suck your dick or eat you out so you can fucking relax." The surprised look on their face would have sent you into a fit of giggles if you hadn't been so serious.
They blinked in surprise, mouth hanging open. "You're...serious? Like actually? You want to give me an orgasm to relax me?" "I'd give you multiple if it meant getting you to relax and stop being so snippy." At your words, they had shifted to their female gender and lunged towards you, hands cupping your cheeks as they feverishly pressed their lips to yours. Which has led you to now. You between their legs, their fingers gripping your hair, scratching at your scalp. Your mouth was working overtime on their cunt. Your tongue doing most of the work.
Their eyes rolled back as they threw their head back against their pillows as moans escaped their mouth. They bucked their hips in time with your tongue. They were using you to get themself off—fuck that's hot. "Oh, fuck! Right there! Fuck...I'm gonna cum..." their fingers tightened in your hair, their hips bucking faster. You tightened your grip around their thighs, keeping them spread so you could continue your girl dinner. "Fuck-fuck-fuck..." Jordan hissed through their teeth, arching off their bed. You hummed against them as they came. Their legs trembled slightly from over your shoulders.
They twitched in your grasp when you didn't let up. They rode out their orgasm on your tongue, quickly getting overstimulated by your continuous movements. "Alright, alright!...Fuck..." Jordan had pulled on your hair strands a few times, letting you know that they had had enough. You unlatched yourself from their clit, letting out a giggle. "What? I told you I'd be more than happy to give you multiple orgasms to make sure you're relaxed..." you stated, letting your lips hover over their thigh before pressing wet kisses to it. Jordan used the grip they had on your hair to guide you up their body, legs falling from your shoulders and spreading so you could settle yourself between them.
"You fucking brat. You'll get what's coming to you." They murmured, giving you a small smile. "Is that a threat or a promise?" You asked, tilting your head to the side as you took in their flushed cheeks and heavy breathing. "That's a fucking promise sweetheart. It's my turn now." They smirked, curling their fingers into your hair that was at the back of your neck, pulling your head closer to theirs, catching your lips with theirs. They could taste themself on your tongue. Your partner was quick to switch positions with you, leaving you on your back against their bed, with them hovering over you.
The two of you shared kiss after kiss. They yanked your legs over their waist, keeping you against them. They were quick to yank off your shirt and kiss down your body. The pants you were wearing were next to go. "Fuck...someone's eager." Jordan smirked, looking at the wet spot that had formed in your panties. Those were quick to follow your pants, finding themselves tossed carelessly onto the floor. Your partner was quick to spread your legs and toss them over their shoulders. They shot you a quick smirk before diving straight into you. The grip they had on your thighs was sure to leave bruises once they were done with you.
Their tongue plunged into your wetness, causing you to moan out, one hand sliding down to grasp onto one of Jordan's, fingers intertwining so that you two were holding hands. They ate you out like they were starving. They had you writhing and twitching in their grasp. Their tongue had you gasping out their name, squeezing your thighs around their head. It wasn't like they were complaining. Their tongue was switching between gliding over your clit and entering your wetness. Their fingers held onto yours with a tightness that left only one hand of yours free to run through their bob. They let their tongue and lips wrap around your clit before they sucked. Hard.
Your upper body had almost launched itself off their bed, having your free hand scrambling to push on their shoulders, on their head, trying to unlatch their mouth from your cunt. "Fuck! Fuck!" Your thighs were trembling and you hadn't even cum yet. Jordan chuckled into your cunt, grabbing your other hand that was lightly smacking their head into their other hand, now trapping both of your hands in theirs. "I told you you'd get what was coming to you Y/n..." they murmured, looking up at you from between your legs. "Now, shut the fuck up and let me punish you."
They began to tongue at your cunt again, not leaving you anytime to give them a response. They held your hands hostage as they went to town on you. They hummed against you, feeling your thighs tremble in response. Jordan used their arms to pin you under them. You were writhing under them. They refused to slow down, continuing to eat you out at a torturously fast pace. And you were almost there. There was a chance that once you came, they wouldn't stop. But you sure as hell wasn't going to be complaining. Your partner was an overstimulating queen/king. They knew your limits. And they sure as hell wasn't afraid to push past them either.
The two of you were wrapped in one another. You were lost in the pleasure being given to you by your lover. Jordan was lost in your cunt, their eyes taking in every reaction you gave them. You were breathing fast and heavy. Jordan could tell you were getting close. Your fingers squeezed around theirs. The heels of your feet began to dig into their back. Their name was practically the only word you could formulate. You were almost fucking there...your head was thrown back against their bed, letting them have full control.
Their tongue was carving their name into your cunt. Just a little bit longer...just a few more swipes of their tongue and—there was a knock at the door—Jordan barely removed their mouth from you to answer. "Go away!" Before diving back into your cunt. "Jordan?" Was heard through the thick metal door. It sounded like a woman's voice. Jordan had froze, shooting up from their place between your legs. Your eyes widened as you sat up on your elbows, looking at one another in surprise. "Jordan! It's your parents! Open the door." Was heard, this time by a male voice.
"Shit!" Jordan hissed, immediately springing up and gathering clothes that were spread out all over their floor. "Just a second!" Jordan called out, their male voice filtering through their feminine body. You never got used to them being able to do that. Jordan tossed you your clothes and you shot up, yanking them on as fast as you could. The knocking had become persistent. "Jordan! Can you hear me? It's your parents!" Once dressed, you both began to hide Jordan's more feminine products in various places. "You so owe me an orgasm after they leave!" You hissed, causing Jordan to let out a snort.
You knocked all of their makeup into a drawer while Jordan hid their various bongs and other drug-related items in boxes and their closet. You quickly stashed the many nail polishes they had before Jordan made sure their hair was in place before they made their way to their door, shifting to their male counterpart as they opened it, putting on a tight smile for their parents. "Hey!" "Jordan! How's my boy!" You cringed silently behind Jordan after hearing Jordan's father say that. Jordan's mother held a bag of Vought-a-Burger up as she too embraced her child.
Kayla had noticed you first. "Oh! Hello!...and who are you?" Her question caught the attention of your partner and their father. Jordan seemed to balk completely. It wasn't hard to see that they weren't sure if they were ready for their parents to know about this part of their life. You threw on a dazzling smile, holding out your hand. "I'm so sorry! I should have introduced myself sooner! I'm Y/F/N Y/L/N. I'm Jordan's roommate."
Jordan's mother was the first to shake your hand, a knowing smile on her face as their father gave a smaller smile before shaking your hand, obviously feeling suspicious. "They let boys and girls...dorm together?" Mr. Li asked, looking between you and Jordan. Jordan shrugged, not sure what to say. "Total mixup!" You saved. "We've been trying to get it rectified but as of right now, all of the dorms are filled so I've had to stay here. But, I assure you Mr. and Mrs. Li, you raised a fine young man...he's been nothing but a gentleman."
Jordan's father regained his smile as he playfully punched at Jordan's stomach. "That's my boy! We definitely raised him right." Everyone in the room laughed. Only two of them sounded a bit forced. "Anyways...why are you here?...not that I'm not happy to see you guys...but you said you'd be here days ago." Jordan asked, opening up the bag of food their parents brought for them. Kayla took a seat at Jordan's desk, placing her purse on top of it. "Well, your father and I wanted to surprise you! That's why we didn't tell you exactly when we were planning on coming down."
Jordan's parents stuck around for a few hours. They seemed to like you. Kayla seemed to realize that there was something more than roommates going on between you and Jordan, based on how you two sat next to one another and Jordan shared their food with you. Although, you had an inkling that she knew from the get-go. Jordan's father seemed to slowly warm up to you. You could tell he didn't like the fact that you and his son were roommates, but there wasn't really anything he could do about it. When they were leaving, Kayla lingered, giving Jordan a kiss on their cheek before cupping it. She leaned in a bit closer to them, lowering her voice so her husband didn't overhear. "You make sure to treat her right, hmm? She seems lovely."
Jordan nodded, giving their mother a large smile. "That I can do." Kayla gave one more smile before officially leaving with her husband. After closing their door, Jordan let out a large sigh, slinking over to their bed tiredly. They shift as soon as they hit their bed, closing their eyes. You lay down next to them on your side, admiring them. "I can feel you staring you creep." They muttered, not opening their eyes. "Can't help it. You're just really pretty." Your lover gave a small scoff that sounded like a chuckle. You knew that if their eyes were open, they would have rolled them at you. It was silent for a beat or two before they brought their hand over their face. "Thanks for being with me...and for accepting me...or whatever. I...I appreciate it." They mumbled, hiding their face behind their arm.
You couldn't help the smile that crossed your face as your lover shared their appreciation for you. It wasn't very often that Jordan did that, they were a master at miscommunication and not sharing how they were feeling. So you always made a big deal whenever they decided to show you that rare side of themself. You pulled yourself up, throwing a leg over your lover, settling yourself on their stomach. Jordan's free hand came up automatically to curl around your waist. "Of course. I'd always except you. You're my person, and I love you."
You looked down at them as they slowly uncovered their eyes, a blush slowly fading away on their cheeks. "Aww, I made you blush and you hid it from me!" Jordan rolled their eyes at you, wrapping their other hand around you as well, curling their lips up in a small smirk. "Don't get too cocky Y/n." You tilted your head, looking very much like you had earlier when you first enticed your lover into relaxing just hours prior. "...I love you too...just so you know." "I know. You're my favorite person...just so you know." You teased, slowly leaned forwards, bringing your face closer to their's.
Jordan kept their smirk as their hands slid from your waist to your ass, squeezing the clothed flesh between their fingers. Jordan leaned forwards and kissed you, using their grip on your ass to grind you against their body. "What was it you said earlier? I owe you an orgasm?...I don't know what the fuck you're waiting for, but get up here and ride my fucking face..."
470 notes
·
View notes
Note
Haiii can you pls write a fic abt being rude to jordan all day which causes them to take their anger out on the reader at the end of the day and they’re just being really aggressive and manhandling?
FRUSTRATION. JORDAN LI.
✗ warnings ; dom!jordan, sub!reader, rough sex, dry humping, orgasm denial, brat taming. not proof read. wc ; 1.2k
THE last straw is the coffee. the fucking coffee.
the sick thing is that this time, you didn't even mean it. sure, your relationship was on pause. sure, you two had been exchanging barbed quips and jibes back and forth for the worse part of two weeks.
(there wasn't even a point to it, anymore—devolving into the most inane, stupid game of chicken; who can piss the other off more? but jordan is nothing but competitive — and you'd be damned if you let them show you up.)
but this time? you swore you were minding your business. like actual, cross your heart, hope to die—stick a cupcake in your eye. unfortunately for you, grade-school promises don't exactly stick up too well when you're standing in the middle of your dorm room doorframe; foaming, hot latte sopping into your favourite jacket. and bag. oops.
"are you fucking serious?" jordan's scowl is black, arms immediately flying out to shake their sleeves, to no avail. your mouth is already open — granted, not to apologise, but it doesn't matter much anyways when all of a sudden two hands are on your torso and you're being thrust onto a bed. you’re not exactly proud of the startled yelp that peels out of you, but fuck— jordan looks.. really fucking hot.
"you get off from pissing me off, or something?" jordan grunts, eyes flaring. there are the faintest hints of bags under their eyes, and a note of tension in their voice you've never heard before. you've clearly caught them at a bad time—even in the depths of this cold war between the two of you, they've never seemed this pissed — just.. mildly irritated.
"only sometimes." you snip back, instead, squirming as their hands dig into your shoulder. it's the wrong answer.
"no." jordan hisses, hand moving up to grip your jaw with a harsh squeeze. "no, no, no. none of that." they lean in, and abruptly you feel your heart jump to your throat; tensing at the indecipherable leer to their tone.
"here's what's gonna happen, baby," the endearment comes out a derisive snarl as their hand swallows your thigh, hiking your leg up and yanking you into a straddle over their leg.
"you're gonna hump my fucking thigh," jordan growls, edging in close, breath hot against your neck as if they're about to rip your throat out. "and you're gonna scream my name like a fucking banshee, got it?" they murmur, and you inhale, jaw slack at the sheer level of cruelty in their voice, and the unmistakable spike of heat that throbs your core.
unimpressed by your silence, jordan's hand constricts around the base of your neck, squeezing. "i said, got it?" they hiss, patience running thin, and you grunt—nails digging into your palms to restrain a wince, or god forbid—a whimper. "got it." you huff, annoyance forcing its way in your inflection as if you're not about to melt into a puddle all over their thigh. god, you've been waiting for this, waiting for this for so fucking long—a week without their touch has felt like a month without fucking water. not that you'd ever admit that, out loud.
a low, unreadable hum resounds from the back of jordan's throat. "well fucking hump, then, sweetheart." they say, voice low as their teeth nips against your skin. you take the hint—forgoing your pride and slowly beginning to grind against their leg, ache between your legs growing increasingly needy as you feed into its begging, pulsing throbs, little whines beginning to fall out of your mouth.
"i said fucking scream it," they hiss, lips latching onto your neck and sucking as your body begins to tremble, feeble whine releasing from your mouth, despite yourself. "i want everyone on the floor to know it's my fucking thigh you're rutting up against like a needy slut." they say, gaze hardening as you thrust yourself against them with a breathy moan, their tone alone making you course with need. "jordan—jordan, oh, fuck—" you gasp, hand fisting into the hem of their shirt.
"louder." jordan demands, a whisper. their fingers curl against your skin, hips bucking subtly at every mention of their name. you make a little noise of protest, but jordan's eyes flash— and you find yourself keening for their approval as you thrash in their lap, body trembling all over. "jordan—" you moan, back arching all while you grind urgently into their thigh, mind blanking. "jordan, jordan, jordan jordan—" the words spill in a shaky, hoarse slew of whines that fit perfectly around your lips, like their name was made for you. your body moves as mindless as your mouth, functioning only on one, single, primal, instinctual need.
jordan jordan jordan need need thigh fuck jordan fuck me fucking fuck me, already—
"i've felt like shit all week." jordan hisses, interrupting your highly intellectual thought process—though, they don't exactly look too cut up as you continue to hump their leg, eyes glassy and teary with want. you want more. you need more. you need them inside of you—"but you're gonna make it up to me, aren't you, doll?" jordan purrs, voice a rushed mumble as their hands dig into your waist. they forcibly jerk you forwards, wrenching your legs further apart so you're splayed across their groin instead of their thigh. this time, you can't help the audible whimper that leaves your throat. "then maybe i'll forgive you."
as if on cue, your pace speeds up with an excitable whine, burying your face under their chin. "please—more—" you force out, grasp on their hem tightening as you groan, loudly, hips bucking wildly against them. "need you— in me—" the words stumble out, shamelessly, barely comprehensible. jordan grins, and with dismay you realise they're shaking their head.
"oh, c'mon. you don't deserve it." they snort, and you whine at the sheer unjustness of it all. you were only mean for them for what? a week? a whole week of them not touching you, either—fuck, you need it—their fingers, their cock—anything to fill up the burning, pounding emptiness inside you, begging to be stuffed full. you open your mouth to protest, but jordan beats you to it. "you're gonna come on my fucking thigh, or you're not gonna come at all. okay, sweetheart?"
any potential complaints die in your throat, petering out to a dismal, shaky whine of defeat. you're still grinding furiously against them. frustrated grunts leave your lips as you squeeze your eyes shut, mattress quaking in time with your thrusts. you have no drive to win against them, anymore. all you wanna do is fucking come.
jordan's grip on you eases, bit by bit as you make a show of yourself — pants and whines spilling from you as you bury yourself deep into jordan's chest and just rut, like the useless thing you are. it's sad, it's needy, it's desperate; and the thing is you fucking can't— it's not enough. you need jordan. you need them.
the whimper that drifts from you even smaller than the ones before, and in an instant, your pants die— and you crumple into a breathless heap upon their chest. it still aches, dull throb between your legs left to pulse and groan out in need. you feel gross, and sticky, and sleepy. this is what you get, really, for thinking you could fuck around with jordan and get away with it.
"are you still mad at me?" you mumble into the crook of jordan's neck, fabric of their shirt still bunched up in your fists. "..jords..?" you mutter, and jordan smiles at the way your words slur, thighs still shaking, their pretty baby taught a lesson. "oh, doll." they grin, hand sliding along chest— your hipbone— the band of your underwear.
well. maybe there's still hope for you, yet.
#(っ ‘o’)ﾉ⌒💥my works !#૮ smut🔞#inbox !#jordan li#jordan li x reader#jordan li fanfic#jordan li headcanons#jordan li smut#gen v#gen v smut#gen v x reader#gen v fanfic#gen v headcanons
655 notes
·
View notes
Text
Crazy Ass Girls Gang ft. what type of yandere are they
warnings: yandere behavior - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED
Tiffany Valentine / clingy, obsessive, manipulative
You'd better be damn sure you want to be with Tiffany before you ever bring up dating her because there is no escape once you've embarked on the exciting journey of being her romantic partner.
But if we're being honest you never really had a choice. You think you met organically? Became close by fate? No, Tiffany saw you and wanted you and decided to have you.
It was love at first sight on her part.
You'll be friends for a few months as she weaves the inescapable web around you. Best friends, actually. You'll tell her absolutely everything about yourself. Learn everything about her in turn. It's pure bliss to have a friend like Tiffany. Supportive, charming, affectionate.
You can tell she loves you more than anything. Loves you more than anyone else has ever loved you before, and she isn't afraid to show it.
You probably already had a partner when you met Tiffany. She was heartbroken when you first told her. The heartbreak didn't last long. Why cry over spilled milk? She wants to take it slow with you anyways, make sure that this time every aspect of the life you build together will be perfect.
She's come in too heavy before. You can't rush perfection, her mother always told her. For you, the lesson is finally worth learning.
Everything can be a tool. In the right hands. And Tiffany's hands? Why, they're incredibly skilled. She uses your soon-to-be-ex as a diving board for your upcoming relationship with her. Even if you'd been perfectly content with the relationship until you met Tiffany, suddenly everything is awful.
Tiffany points out every mistreatment. Every cancelled date. Every strange tone they used when talking to you. Every shitty, unoriginal gift. Every moment they weren't enthusiastic enough about good news you had to share.
It gets to the point where you can't even look at them half the time. You'll end dates with your partner early just to go spend more time with Tiffany: "What do you think they meant when they said that, Tiff?" / "I think they forgot who they were talking to, sweetheart! They're lucky I wasn't around or I would've cut out their tongue."
Tiffany has you so wrapped around her finger she's not even the one who suggests the break up. She was still going to wait a month or two before she began to truly push.
But when you show up at her doorstep in the middle of the night, holding flowers and her favorite takeout, rambling about how you've been so blind and it's always been Her...
Well, she has to smile as she pulls you in, savoring the last first kiss your lips will ever gift another soul.
She almost forgot how good she is at getting what she wants.
Jordan Li / protective, obsessive, lucid
You're so sweet. It was the first thought Jordan remembers having about you. The beginning of the end. They haven't been able to stop thinking about you since that one fatal moment.
Jordan has plenty of other things to think about. Things that should outclass you in importance easily. Their ranking, Brink's careful mentoring, their grades. They tell themselves that it all still matters more than you but they know they're lying to themselves.
It scares them a little, how much they actually think about you. Not a minute can go by without their thoughts drifting to you.
Did you eat today? / Your next class is in ten minutes, let me walk you, I've got the time. / You were running out of your favorite perfume. Got you a new bottle. / You look upset. Did someone fucking say something to you?
They can't help the way they hover around you during every spare moment they can find.
Jordan knows your schedule by heart to maximize the amount of time you can spend together. It's a balancing act they have to play with their brain for the simplest of tasks: you can spend the rest of the day with Y/N but you have to finish grading these essays first.
They can't function properly when they go too long without you. They swing on their sparring partners too hard. Stare at the clock during lectures instead of listening. They rip textbooks and snap pens by holding them too tight.
Sometimes they have to give up and call you. If they can't go and see you for whatever reason the sound of your voice makes it better. Hearing you talk, the sound of you breathing, laughing. It helps. Calms the buzz beneath Jordan's skin. They dial your contact, glaring into space as they wait for you to pick up. As soon as you do their body relaxes.
They recognize that their behavior isn't normal. Always needing to know where you are, who you're with. Feeling sick when they don't know.
You're like a drug for Jordan. They know you're an addiction, the way you've crawled under their skin. No high on earth compares, and Jordan has fucking compared them all. They pull you into their lap, as close as they can get you and it's never enough. Nothing is ever enough.
"Please don't fucking go anywhere, yeah?" Jordan will mumble into the skin of your neck. Their grip on you is too tight, face twisted at the desperation they feel. It's not pillow talk. They're begging. Genuinely. They'd do anything to keep you this close, always.
"Of course not, Jordie." You coo back. They close their eyes and pretend the words are enough. Nothing ever is.
Nancy Downs / delusional, possessive, obsessive
As soon as Nancy wants you there's no other option for you besides her. You can either choose to go along with it or you can fight it.
Fighting against her is like fighting against the tide, though. You can tread water for awhile. Keep your head afloat, sure. But eventually you'll get tired. Nature wins. Besides, fighting against Nancy becomes unpleasant fast. Being hers is so much nicer. She's gentler that way, kinder.
You're allowed to have friends, she doesn't isolate you completely.
It's just your old friends sucked. They didn't appreciate you. Didn't look out for you. Selfish users just like everyone else. Moths are always drawn to the light, and she'll kill every moth that strays a little too close to you, before it ever gets a chance to singe itself on your warmth. It's a mercy, really. Living a life in the darkness and having one brief moment in the sun is miserable. Nancy should know. It almost drives her crazy when you're not around. If you ever left she'd want to be put out of her misery too.
Her coven, though? They're perfect. Her coven is a family. And you were the last missing piece of it.
Anything about your old life, the life before her, can be viewed as a threat at a moment's notice. Family. Friends. Memories you speak of a little too fondly. Even a hobby could do it. She wants your focus to be her. It's only fair, her only focus is you.
Even when she's not around. Even when you're completely alone you swear you can feel her eyes on you. Her magic drifting against your skin as if she was sitting right beside you.
Nancy's intensity can be scary but she makes anyone else's love seem dull in comparison.
Who else could love you like she does? Who else would die for you? Nancy wouldn't even have to think about it first. All she asks in return is for you to do the same. Live for her. Dedicate every breathe in your lungs to her.
It's not so hard, she'll lead by example.
Jennifer Check / manipulative, possessive, clingy
She couldn't give a shit about anyone else but you. Somehow you managed to sneak your way into her heart and she can't let go of you. Won't let go of you. You're the only thing that's keeping that small, soft, human part of her alive. You dragged that bit of her back from the grave she put it in, actually. So it wouldn't be fair for you to try and leave, after you made her weak again. Human again.
Her world revolves around you. Her priorities are her next meal and you. Of course she gets pissed off if you don't reciprocate her energy. Look at her, how could you ever put anything above her?
Jennifer wants you to be everything to each other, though she won't say it out loud. It shows in her actions.
You belong to her. Every version of yourself that exists in the world should belong to her. The version of you that you are when you're someone's best friend. When you're someone's partner. It's all hers. She won't let anyone else take root in your life in a role that she can fill. She'll do a better job anyways.
The enormity of her ego and the way she clings might seem at odds. She thinks she's a God walking amongst fucking cattle. But she sticks to you like a second skin. A hand always at your waist. Her lips always chasing yours, whining when you don't give in fast enough, when you don't melt like she does. Her grip iron clad when you hold hands. If you pull away too soon from a hug, from a kiss, she bites, she holds on with claws.
She coos at the marks she leaves on your skin and kisses all the scratches and bruises she leaves better. / "I'm sorry baby, you know I hate letting you go."
Carrie White / idolizer, protective, selfless
Not in her wildest dreams did Carrie think anyone could be as kind as you. People are cruel. Their first instinct is to cause hurt before they'll ever reach out a hand to help, to shield, to love.
But you're not like that at all. You're something ripped straight from a fairy-tale. The rare ones that her Mother let her read, that weren't hiding devil worship between their poetic words.
You're so patient with her. So gentle. You treat her like glass. You hold her close, and kiss her soft, and cup her face in your hands that are always so warm.
You say you love her in a breathless way, every time. Like even expressing how much you care makes you dizzy. As if she overwhelms you. She feels dizzy herself as she hangs on your every honeyed word. Clings to you every time you reach out your hands to hold her.
Carrie doesn't know if she believes in God nowadays, but if she did you'd be an angel sent straight from heaven. A gift, maybe, to make up for all the years of torment she endured from everyone she'd ever known.
She'd think you were some kind of God yourself, if you had any sort of abilities like her. But you don't. You walk around doing what's right, being good down to the marrow of your very bones just because it's who you are. You greet the world with your fists raised and you're only human, and it scares Carrie so much.
You're the last decent person alive and you'll throw yourself onto any pyre you see if it means doing what's right. Carrie loves that about you. It terrifies her.
So Carrie throws herself into the ring with you. Your sweet, gentle Carrie who you're always trying to protect. But Carrie doesn't need your protection. She's not the helpless little girl she used to be. She won't let anything hurt either of you, from now on. For the rest of your lives you'll be safe, happy. Together. Carrie would burn the world to ash if it meant not a scratch would befall you.
"You're an angel, Y/N. The most wonderful angel God ever made."
Ginger Fitzgerald / possessive, impulsive, protective,
Sometimes Ginger wishes everyone else in the world would disappear, besides the two of you. They're a hindrance.
She feels insane when she watches you. She feels her claws come out and makes herself bleed as she fights against the instinct to rip out every tongue that speaks to you, and every pair of eyes that's ever looked into yours.
She shivers when you claim her. The only time she enjoys being around other people now is when you're introducing her: "This is Ginger, my girlfriend." "This is Ginger, my partner." "This is Ginger, my best friend." "This is Ginger, my everything."
She loves being yours. Relishes in the way you say the word mine. She wants to lick the words from your mouth, the weight of your total ownership over her sweet and poisonous.
She wonders if you get the same pleasure from belonging to her. She wants you to. She wants to carve her name into your skin with her claws and have you moan at the first sharp sting of the letter G.
It's primal, the way she wants you. Beyond anything humans have words for. She leaves her scent on your skin and wants to growl when you wash it away with artificial soaps and perfumes. She sucks bruises into every inch of you that anyone else could see.
She wants you to do the same. Wants to roll onto her back and expose her neck, and have you bite so hard you draw blood.
Ginger's wanting comes with teeth. What she is demands she sinks her teeth into things, that she draws blood. Even when she loves you. Because she loves you, maybe. She needs to leave a mark on you. She needs to always be there. She needs the same from you.
Needs you to leave scars on her that she can touch when you're not around. Proof that you were there. Proof that you're coming back. You don't carve your name into things and then abandon them. When you own things you keep them.
When you're gone the world goes dim and cold. She couldn't survive in a world without you. She wouldn't even attempt it. What would be the fucking point?
"We're a pair. We belong to each other. Always, yeah?"
#crazy ass girls gang#tiffany valentine x reader#jordan li x reader#jordan li imagine#tiffany valentine imagine#jennifer check x reader#jennifer check imagine#ginger fitzgerald x reader#carrie white x reader#nancy downs x reader#thank you ty and oak for helping me place these guys i was in the trenches#im still in the trenches right now because im down BAD i want them all in a way that#MUST be studied by scientists this shit ain't normal#sorry if this makes me look gay it's because i am#got a little lost in the sauce with ginger HELLO???
443 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
neybulous
No paths are bound
cyrelia-j
Cherry Pomade Revolution
lil-oreo-cookie
✷ The Septarsis-Dragonfly AU ✷
kozbeszedhu
Közbeszéd
eemmajones
Emma Jones