jordanli-dribbles

[jordanli-dribbles]

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

pairing:  jordan li x fem!reader

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

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

gif credit: artemidosgifs and stannyramirez

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You bite him a little harder.

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

“Gonna be good for me?” Jordan asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Bimbo.’

‘Airhead.’

‘Slut.’ 

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

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

You stopped venting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I saw it.” Jordan laughs.

“That means that he killed the wife!” 

“How do you figure?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Secondary super power.”

“Connecting all the dots?”

“Connecting all the dots, yeah.” 

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

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

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

“What?!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pussy whipped asshole-” Peter groans.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why are you so mad?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh.” You say. 

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

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

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

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

“I’m so fucking stupid.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“With fucking Peter?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.” You say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?” You look up from your notes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nope. Property damage.” 

“Fuck me!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh.” Jordan says. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You feel his breath on your lips and nod absentmindedly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hah!” You laugh in Andre’s face.

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

“Yes.” You say. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll have to take your word for it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You almost hadn’t come to the party. 

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

So here you were. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?” You blink, confused.

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

“Nothing!” 

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

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

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

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

“Y/N-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Or something?” Jordan echoes.

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

“How do you figure that?” You laugh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He just blinks up at you, owlish. 

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

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

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

Jordan shifts. 

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

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

It has to be. 

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

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

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

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

So you run.

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

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

Why did you fall in love with them? 

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

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

It’s Jordan. Because of course it is.

You burst into tears again. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you fucking talking about-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” 

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

“I’m me?” You echo. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“When?!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Weird fucking thing to tell me after I say I love you, but go off.” She glares at you. 

“I think you could do with feeling a little jealous. Why am I hearing stories about how good you are at fucking other women while I’m trying to piss at Vought Burger in peace?” 

“What?” Jordan’s brow furrows. 

“Three weeks ago I heard-”

“-I fucking knew you’ve been mad at me!” Jordan grabs your waist, pulling you closer.

“You would have been pissed too, if you heard the shit I was hearing!” 

“If I hear anyone talking about fucking you ever again I’m going to go to prison.”

“Hot.” 

“Shut up and be my girlfriend.”

“Shut up and be my everything.” 

“You’re gross.” But she kisses you, and it’s gentle, and no one else is there to see it. 

And it’s perfect.

A/N: this is my first time doing full on smut for a fic! it beat me the fuck up. if you enjoyed this fic consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anon! a writers fuel is engagement. and this fic took too damn long to write. xoxoxo

#Amazing as always Bee! #jordan li x reader #Force fields ARE awesome!

[jordanli-dribbles]

Self-Reblog!

This is the post that started it all, exactly three months ago today. Prior to this, I had never written anything. I'm not even a native English speaker! It's unbelievable where a little obsession with a character can lead. - Dribbles 💕

One More Set

Jordan Li x gn!Reader

“Just one more set, baby” they say encouragingly as they stand behind you.

“Ugh, if I knew dating you would mean I would be spending my free time at the gym…I might have reconsidered.” You say sarcastically with a groan.

Like every other supe, you had strength and faster than normal healing but unlike them you hated the gym and couldn’t care less about the rankings. Even though you were in the top ten.

After finishing your last set, you put the weights down with a groan and turn to see a very unamused Jordan with their arms cross over their chest, their short bob covering half their face.

You laugh as you rush to pull them towards you by their hips saying “I’m kidding! I’m kidding, baby!”

Their arms are still cross and the scowl on their face only deepens.

You chuckle to your self as you put the loose strand of their hair behind their ear. Tapping their nose with your index finger, whispering “Grumpy, baby!” with a fake pout and big doe eyes.

They roll their eyes dramatically trying to hide their smile.

Knowing you won them over, you laugh again snaking your arms around their neck as they wrap their arms tightly around you pulling you into a searing kiss.

You moan into their mouth as their hands drift down to grip your ass as the kiss intensifies, drawing you impossibly close to them.

Suddenly, they pull away, slapping your ass saying, “We are so not done, baby! You owe me at least one more set, for that comment.”

You groan as they drag you to the next machine.

Ugh, Jordan Li has been consuming all my thoughts!

#self reblog #jordan li x reader #dribbles #Spanish is my native language #Kinda like this writing thing

[jordanli-dribbles]

Drunken Giggles

Jordan Li x gn!Reader | 470 words

You stumble into Jordan's dorm room at three a.m., the world spinning with each step, and soft laughter bubbling up from deep within you. You fumble with the key, the metal clanking loudly against the lock. With a final curse and a triumphant giggle, you manage to open the door stumbling into the dimly lit room, illuminated only by moonlight. Every attempt at silence is thwarted by your clumsiness, knocking into furniture and cursing under your breath as you stub your toe on an unseen obstacle.

Jordan had woken up when you were fumbling with the key on the lock, their eyes barely open as they observe your drunken antics with a fond smile. They pretend to be asleep, enjoying the spectacle of your stumbling entry into the room, drunkenly swaying as you walk.

The room spins slightly as you collapse on the couch, kicking off your shoes and struggling to remove your pants, the alcohol rendering you both clumsy and giddy. From the bed, Jordan watches you with amusement, their smile growing wider with each of your drunken movements. With a mischievous giggle, you shuffle towards them, your steps unsteady. Jordan shuts their eyes tightly, pretending to be oblivious to your approach. In the darkness, you don't notice the subtle rise and fall of their chest as they suppress a chuckle.

Just as Jordan expects to feel the bed shift under your weight, everything goes silent. Too silent. They're about to peek, open their eyes, when suddenly, you throw yourself onto the bed, landing on top of them. Your limbs tangle with theirs in a drunken embrace. A loud giggle bursts from your lips as you clutch onto them.

“Jesus, fuck!" Jordan exclaims, caught off guard by your sudden assault. But their hands instinctively hold onto you as you start sliding off the bed in your drunken state. Pulling you closer, their hand bringing your thigh to rest on top of their hip, you nuzzle your face onto their chest breathing them in.

"Sorry, baby," you slur, your words muffled against their chest as you snuggle closer, sighing happily as their hand travels up your back to stroke your hair. You lift your head to meet their eyes, your vision hazy. They shift a hand to cup your cheek, a soft smile forming on their lips as they look down at you.

"Someone had a good time." They say with a teasing smile, placing a tender kiss on your forehead. You nod enthusiastically, giggle softly as they caress your cheek. You close your eyes, sighing as you rest your head back down on their chest, breathing in the comforting scent of them. Jordan's arm wraps tighter around you, as the other gently strokes your hair, the rhythmic motion lulling both of you to sleep.

#gen v #jordan li #jordan li x reader #jordan li x you #gen v x reader #derek luh #london thor #fluff

[jordanli-dribbles]

I Hate You, I Want You

Jordan Li x fem!Reader | 2.4k Words Summary: Playing games with Jordan Li Tags: Situationship?, Soft!Dom Jordan, Mentions of drugs and alcohol, No actual smut but descriptions of previous encounters

You and Jordan had a thing.

You didn’t know what else to call it. All you did was argue and fuck. It was an endless cycle, but oh so fucking hot. You love to provoke them, knowing exactly what buttons to push to get them to pin you up against the wall, no matter what form they were in.

Your body responding instantly when they wrap their hand around your neck, their other hand tightly gripping your hip holding you firmly against the wall. Pulling you up slightly on your tiptoes to meet their lips. Your lips would be bruised from kissing and biting, their tongue licking your lip before sinking their teeth into your bottom lip.

The grip they had around your throat tightening slightly as you moan into their mouth. Loving the way they would plant wet hot kisses down your neck, leaving dark hickeys along the way, not caring who would see them. Their hands would travel up your thighs, their fingers dipping inside your wet folds. Your breath would catch and your body would quiver every time. They would always chuckle softly when they realise you had provoked them for this exact reason. They love to play this game as much as you did. They love to see how fast they could make you squirm, get you all worked up until you were begging for more.

You wanted them. You always did. You want them, and you didn't care where. The dorm room floor, their desk, inside one of the many empty classroom. You just needed to feel them, their cock, their fingers, their mouth, willing to take any part of them. They would never give in right away though. Toying with you, loving how your lips pouted when you begged them to give you more.

They would tease you with their fingers, mouth hot on your neck. Whispering all the dirty little things they could do to you, knowing you would let them. Their fingers would be relentless, working you up, just enough to drive you crazy. Always making you cry out in frustration when they pull back. They always pulled back. Always. Walking away, not sparing you another look. Knowing you would come crawling back to them later.

You always did.

Except, this time you didn't.

It was late. And you hadn’t come to find them. They were angry, frustrated and oh so unbelievably hard. They knew what you were doing. Playing this dirty little game, just as well as they were, so why the fuck didn't you come?

They couldn’t sleep. They had been up for hours thinking about you. Imagining the sweet taste of your soft lips and the low whimpers you made when they nibbled on your neck. The way your back would arch against their hips and how your thighs would tremble when they made you cum.

The images were intoxicating. It drove them insane. They rolled over in bed grabbing their phone off the desk. Scrolling through their contacts until they found yours. Fuck it.

They sent you a text.

You up?

Yup, real fucking classy, Jordan! They say to themselves, sighing resting their phone on their chest. Closing their eyes waiting, trying to get the images of your soft lips around their cock or pussy out of their mind. What the fuck am I doing? they think to themselves. Opening their eyes, staring blankly at the ceiling. Their phone suddenly lighting up, vibrating.

What the fuck, you’re calling them? They think to themselves slightly confused, it was 3am. But nonetheless, they pick up, after letting it ring for a few seconds. Saying nothing when they do.

"Maybe, what do you want?" you say after a few silent seconds. Your voice low but teasing. They could hear the playful smirk on your lips. Your turn now to torture them.

"You know what I want." They growled, too hot and bothered to be playing this game now.

"Sorry, baby." You said, so deliciously sweet. "But you brought this upon yourself. Figure it out."

The line went dead. You hung up on them. They could imagine the shit-eating grin you had on your face, and fuck if that didn't turn them on more. They groaned, dropping their phone on the desk, palming their erection through their boxers.

"Fuck this!" they say out loud, quickly getting up walking towards their door. Pausing, when their hand touched the handle. They shake their head, turning back. Shifting into their smaller form, walking into the bathroom instead. Jordan Li does not lose.

It had been a two whole week since either of you even stood in the same room. You thought about them every night, your fingers hovering over their contact on your phone way too many times but you were adamant about staying strong. This was the game, you weren't going to lose. You didn't want to be the first to crack, not this time.

But fuck, you wanted them, so fucking bad. The thought of their fingers inside you, making you squirm and writhe, their mouth sucking and licking. You craved their touch. You missed how their lips and hands explored every inch of your body, knowing exactly how to give you the release you so desperately needed.

It was Friday night and the party was raging, but doing nothing to calm the fire within you. You wanted to forget, the alcohol was helping, but only a little. You were beyond drunk, dancing with a group of girls you barely knew. Your body moving with the music, sweat glistening on your skin.

They were there too, standing across the room. You didn’t notice when they came in at first but you felt their their eyes trained on you, their jaw clenched, eyes dark. Watching how you danced, how your hips moved, and how your body swayed to the music. The hem of your dress dangerously high on your thighs. You knew they were watching, your own eyes meeting their’s a few times, giving them a teasing smile, and playful wink. The glare on their face only deepening each time your eyes met.

You knew they couldn't stand it any more than you could. It was taking every bit of self-control to stay where you were. You turned around, ignoring their stare before you through it all away. Resisting the urge to crawl back to them at the first sight of them in weeks. You were still conscious enough to know you didn’t want to lose. Choosing to continue this game a little longer, even though the desire and lust for them was consuming you.

After a few songs, one of the girls from the group pulled out a small baggie filled with bright blue pills with a small star in the middle. All the other girls from the group squealed, jumping up and down in excitement. You hesitated; you were already so fucking drunk and high. You had taken something from one of the other girls earlier, wanting to get out of your own head. You had never been this gone before, especially when you were out alone with a bunch of people you just had met.

The girl with the baggie slowly walked up to you, making a show of it. Holding the small pill up to your lips, with an playful smile. You chuckled, smiling back, rolling your eyes playfully. What’s the worst that can happen? You think to yourself, before opening your mouth, extending your tongue. She giggles as she places the pill on your tongue, turning back to the rest of the group to continue to party.

"What the fuck are you doing!" You heard a familiar voice growl in your ear. Your body stiffened, eyes going wide. Not having noticed when Jordan had moved. Their hands quickly turning you around to face them, their right hand roughly gripping your jaw. Their thumb and index finger pressing into your cheeks forcing you to look up at them.

“Open.” They command, eyes trained on your lips, waiting for you to obey. Ignoring the stares and questions from the girls behind you.

You huff, rolling your eyes pressing your lips tighter shut. Ignoring them. Their eyes instantly going up to meet yours when you refuse to obey. Their eyebrows pinching together in further frustration.

“Open.” They repeat louder, pinching your cheeks harder causing your lips to pout. Small whimper leaving your lips.

“Don’t make me say it again, princess.” They growl, emphasizing the last word. Their eyes staring directly into yours. Their eyes dark with lust and something else, almost possessive. You can tell they were no longer in the mood to be playing games.

Yet you continue to stare at them with wide, puppy-like eyes, your lips perfectly pouted. Your eyes glistening from the intense grip they had on your jaw. Despite trying to stand your ground, you still hadn't swallowed the pill. Battling internalling between your own stubbornness and the need to not provoke them further. Finally, with a reluctant sigh, you slowly open your mouth, extending your tongue out. The bright blue pill resting at the tip, staining your tongue blue.

They quickly lift their other hand up, taking the pill from your tongue between two fingers. “I told you not to take shit I didn’t give you myself.” They seethed, crushing the pill in between their fingers, wiping the residue on their pants.

“What else did you take?” They ask, eyes flicking from left to right, looking at your blown pupils, hand still firmly gripping your chin, roughly turning your face side to side.

“It hurts,” you whine, bottom lip trembling. Their fingers were gripping your face way too tight, causing the muscles to start twitching.

“Yeah, well I am not very happy with you right now. So I don’t really care.” They say, not loosening their grip on your jaw. They still looked angry, their jaw set, and eyes glaring. They look away from you, quickly scanning the crowd. The girls you had been with were long gone. Jordan hadn’t recognize any of them.

"Tell me you didn’t come here alone?" They ask, looking back down at you. Voice terribly calm but their eyes showing their frustration. You try to shake your head, but their grip on your jaw tightens, making you squeak out a quiet maybe. They curse under their breath. Shaking their head, letting out a small, humorless chuckle. "Unfuckingbelievable." They say, releasing your jaw. Their right hand reaching down to grab your wrist.

They turn around, pulling you along the crowd. You stumble, legs giving out from underneath you, the alcohol and drugs affecting you more then you had thought. They groan in frustration, letting go of your wrist, quickly bending down gripping your waist and throwing you over their shoulder.

“Jordan, what fuck!” You say, trying to push yourself off them. They ignore you, walking away from the crowd, towards the nearest exit.

"I can't leave you alone for one fucking minute, can I?" They grumble, shaking their head. As you squirm trying to break free from their ironclad grip.

“Stop moving.” They ordered, slapping your thigh before pulling your dress down lower over your ass and thighs as they made their way through Dusty’s house and out the front door. Your body resting limply on their shoulder, no other choice but to let them carry you. Your head too muddy to keep fighting. They walked through the house ignoring the occasional stares from random partygoers.

Once outside, they not so gracefully placed you on the grass, kneeling down in front of you as you sat yourself up. Taking a deep breath of the cold night air. They gently started to stroke their knuckles across your cheek. Your eyes tightly shut, your head spinning from being upside down, and the sudden hit of fresh air.

"Look at me." They say firmly, but the angry tone no longer present in their voice. Your eyes slowly fluttering open, meeting theirs. Eyes unfocused and hazy. Their hand goes back to your jaw, this time, much softer, stroking the skin they had grabbed so harshly before.

"What else did you take?" They ask again, continuing to stroke your cheek with their thumb.

"I…I don't remember," you mumble, your head falling onto their shoulder, nuzzling into their neck. Your thoughts hazy, not sure if it was the drugs, or alcohol, or Jordan.

"You smell nice," you say breathing them in, pressing your nose against their neck. Resting more of your weight onto them, but they don't seem to mind. Their left arm wrapped tightly around your waist, holding you steady, while their right hand ran through your hair, lightly scratching at your scalp. Both of you sitting in silence for a few moments. The only noise the muffled music from the party, and the soft breeze ruffling the leaves.

You hear them release a heavy breath, obviously trying to calm themselves. "I can't fucking believe you," they suddenly say, pulling your head back by your hair to meet their eyes. A slight whimper leaving your lips. "I was going to leave, you know? I was going to let you have your fun, let you think you won. But you can't help being such a fucking brat, can you princess?" The ask, tone harsher than they intended.

They paused, searching your eyes. The small pout on your lips and the glazed over look in your eyes making it hard for them to maintain their anger. Their grip on your hair loosens and their hand coming up to press their thumb against your bottom lip, causing it to pucker slightly. While their other hand travels up your back to hold you by the back of your neck. They pull your bottom lip down slightly, your tongue darting out, tasting their finger.

"Fuck, don’t tempt me right now." They mumble, watching how your lips wrapped around their thumb. Sucking on it softly, your eyes looking up at them, innocent yet hungry. They smirk at your antics, shaking their head. Even as drunk and high as you were right now you were still playing the game.

"I'm going to have so much fun punishing you, baby." They whisper, pulling their thumb out of your mouth. Leaning down to kiss your lips firmly. "But not tonight." They say, lifting you up once again. You instinctively wrapped your arms around their neck, and legs around their waist, whining in protest.

"Let's get you back to your dorm room, princess." They say, caressing the back of your neck. You hum in agreement, closing your eyes, relaxing into them once more. The dorms are only a short walk from Dusty’s run down house.

"Jordan?" you whisper, after a few minutes of walking in silence. Your head tucked against their neck.

"Mhm," they hummed in reply, their hand rubbing comforting circles into the small of your back, making sure your dress doesn't roll up as they held you.

"Thank you." You mumble into their neck. Your arms tightening their hold around their neck, nuzzling more into them.

"Don't mention it. But try not to be so fucking stupid next time." They say, with a slight reprimand in their tone. You can’t stop the laugh that escapes your lips at their remark. Unfortunately, this was not the first time they had to rescue you.

This was honestly purely for my own self indulgence, and kinda might have already started writing the punishment... 🫣

#gen v #jordan li x reader #jordan li #jordan li x you #gen v x reader #jordan li smut #mentions of smut #soft!dom jordan

[jordanli-dribbles]

I've been thinking about Jordan finding out something silly you've been keeping a secret because you're embarrassed - a stuffed animal or baby blanket, maybe a diary, maybe you have a secret skill/hobby/interest thats childish/weird/embarrassing. 👀👀👀

Aw, this was such a cute idea I had to write something fun and fluffy. Sorry, it took forever! Life really been lifing lately.

You and Jordan entered your dorm room, the echo of your shared laughter contrasting the previous silence in the dimly lit room. Jordan held the door open as you walked in, heading straight to your closet in the far corner of the room.

Jordan had surprised you with reservations to your favorite restaurant—a place you both frequented, filled with shared memories. You knew this sweet gesture was their silent apology for the busy week they had. However, as you were about to leave, a light drizzle began to patter against their office window, creating a rhythmic symphony on the glass.

Jordan, always the protective one, had been adamant that you wear a jacket. They had seen you shiver in the cold one too many times, and insisted on you being prepared for an unexpected turn in the weather. So, with an exasperated sigh and a playful roll of your eyes, you had agreed to fetch a warmer layer from your closet before stepping out into the drizzling night.

"It's barely raining, Jordan. I could’ve of gone without a jacket!" you yelled from inside of your small closet, searching through the hangers for your favorite coat.

"Yeah, yeah, just get your coat. I'm not about to let you catch a cold again," they respond, lifting a pillow to sit on your bed by the headboard.

"What's this?" you heard Jordan ask. At the sound of their voice, you step out of the closet, turning towards them. Your eyes widen as you see them holding the small lilac knitted blanket that you kept neatly folded under your pillow. Horrified, you rushed towards them, trying to pull the small blanket from their hands, but they were too quick. They jumped off the bed, quickly standing up, holding the blanket out of your reach, a wide grin on their face.

"Babe, do you sleep with a blankie?" they ask teasingly, their grin widening as they see your cheeks redden.

"No," you respond sharply. They raise an eyebrow challengingly, glancing from your face to the small blanket in their hands, a deadpan expression at your obvious lie.

With a dramatic roll of your eyes and heavy sigh, you say, "Ok, maybe. Now give it back," reaching for it again, but they easily avoid your grasp.

"No, no, princess. How did I not know you slept with a blankie!?" They ask, with a teasing smile, waving the said blanket away from your reach.

“Jordan, please!” You plead, stepping towards them again. But they step back, switching growing taller, raising the blanket above their head ensuring you can't reach it.

"Ok, that's not fair!" you exclaim, now standing directly in front of them, your eyes locked onto theirs in a defiant glare. Their vexing smile remained unwavered under your intense glare.

"Care to explain?" they retort, a gleam of amusement twinkling in their eyes. They are looking down at you with a playful, almost teasing smile. Their hand slowly waving the small blanket back and forth, the movement adding emphasis to their words. You can't help but groan internally, a sigh of frustration welling up inside you. You close your eyes for a brief moment, steeling yourself, knowing they won't let the topic go.

"Ugh…fine," you groan, tilting your face up to meet their gaze. "My grandmother made it for me before I was born. I…I've slept with it every day since." You say quickly, your voice trailing off as you look away, feeling embarrassed.

You had forgotten about the blanket, you usually stored it in the back of your dresser whenever Jordan came over. Initially, you were hesitant to bring it to college, but you couldn't bear to leave it behind. You rationalized with yourself that you would only keep it until you adjusted to the new place and schedule, knowing you wouldn't sleep without it. But it’s been two years now, and you still found comfort knowing it was under your pillow, a little piece from home.

You felt vulnerable and a little exposed. No one knew about the blankie, not even your parents who thought you lost it a long time ago. You were supposed to be an adult now, yet the soft, worn-out fabric under your pillow brought you comfort that nothing else had, well, until you met Jordan.

After an awkward silence, you slowly lifted your head to meet their warm gaze, you noticed a soft smile and a glimmer in their eyes, your eyebrow arching slightly in question.

"That's really sweet," they said, as they brought their hand up to gently brush your cheek with their thumb. You felt your cheeks grow warm, not sure if it was from embarrassment or their touch.

"It’s embarrassing," you mumbled, looking down at your feet.

"No, it's not. I think it's endearing. Cute, actually," they countered, lifting your chin to meet their eyes again. You searched their eyes for some form of judgment or mockery, but all you found was the familiar warmth and kindness they only had for you.

After a silent pause, an impish glint appeared in their eyes. Teasingly, they asked, "Do you also have a stuffed animal tucked away somewhere that you cuddle with when I'm not around?" They asked with a playful smirk, a gentle ribbing that made the room feel a little less tense.

Your face quickly turned into a soft glare. "Asshole," you retorted, suppressing a chuckle, attempting to push them away. But they were quicker, pulling you towards them, their arms encircling your waist, the small blanket resting on your back.

"I'm kidding, I’m kidding," they said, their laughter echoing in the air around you. Their eyes were sparkling with mischief and amusement yet full of adoration. They leaned down, their lips meeting yours in a sweet, lingering kiss.

"You're still an asshole," you mumbled against their lips, as they broke away from the kiss. They laughed out loud before placing a quick peck on the lips. They held you by the waist as their hands softly rubbed the small of your back, their nose lightly brushing against yours in a tender moment before they stepped away.

"Alright, come on, let's go. I'm hungry," they declared. "And don't forget your coat!" they added, their voice light and playful. They gently took the small blanket, their fingers softly smoothing out any creases as they folded it neatly before placing back under your pillow. You watched them, a soft smile playing on your lips as you put on your coat.

Once you were both ready, they interlocked their fingers with yours in a familiar, comforting grip. They lifted your intertwined hands, placing a soft kiss on the back of your hand - a silent promise of affection that sent a shiver down your spine. You had your safety blanket, you had your coat, and most importantly, you had Jordan.

Don't really take request as I can't promise I will get to them but this was too cute not to do, and exactly what I needed. Thanks Anon!

#gen v #gen v x reader #jordan li x reader #jordan li x you #jordan li #soft jordan #fluff #derek luh #london thor #request

[jordanli-dribbles]

play the game, first lines!

rules: List the first lines of your last 10 (or however many you like ) published fics and see if there’s a pattern.

Thanks @simiinthemirror this was fun!

__ One More Set - Jordan Li x gn!Reader “Just one more set, baby” they say encouragingly as they stand behind you. “Ugh, if I knew dating you would mean I would be spending my free time at the gym…I might have reconsidered.” You say sarcastically with a groan.

Bad Dream - Jordan Li x gn!reader It had been another stressful day. Midterms were quickly approaching, and you had rarely spoken to your partner in the last few days. They weren’t having the best of times. Brink had been on their case about the upcoming tests, forcing them to work late into the evening.

This Feeling - Jordan Li x gn!reader "Mhm," you hummed, tilting your head back to rest on their shoulders. Your eyes closed in a blissful sigh, basking in the sensations of their hand roaming freely over your body. Their other hand tightly gripping your hip, guiding your movements against them.

Speechless - Jordan Li x fem!Reader You weren't exclusive. You weren't even friends. You were just two people who had been paired up in a group project the previous semester and somehow kept ending up in each other's beds. The unspoken rules were clear to both of you: no strings, no drama, and most importantly, no attachments.

Friday Night - Jordan Li x gn!Reader It's Friday night, and here you were, knee-deep on your third round of laundry. The gang had dispersed to some club or another, except for Jordan who had stayed late to help Professor Brink grade some papers. They encouraged you to go out, but you were exhausted, the relentlessness of the week finally catching up to you and the neglected mountain of laundry on your couch, could no longer be ignored.

Crushin' - Jordan Li x gn!Reader You fell asleep on Jordan's bed, waiting for them. They were attending a top-five donor gala, and you knew how much these types of events stressed them out. The thought of them navigating through the sea of potential donors, plastering on a fake smile as they shook hands and made small talk, unable to shift comfortably, was enough to tug at your heartstrings.

Study Date - Jordan Li x Fem!Reader "Why does Brink insist on making all his tests so fucking confusing?" You groan, slapping the paper in your hand onto the ground in frustration. You lean your head back onto the couch behind you, looking up at the ceiling, mind numb.

Summary - Haha it is really eye opening to see that I write how I talk. It's blunt and straight to the point at times, I need to work more on my descriptors. I like to set up the scene with my longer fics and usually start with a quote or a feeling for my short dribbles.

Not tagging anyone as the ones I know were already tagged!

play the game, first lines!

thank you to the incredible @callumsgirl for this tag <333

rules: List the first lines of your last 10 published fics and see if there’s a pattern.

(going to be skipping over my hcs btw)

Double Sided (Luke Riordan x Reader) GEN V

You looked up from your desk in the library when a large bag thudded next to you. The owner of said bag grimaced slightly and looked at you with a sheepish expression on his face. You knew who he was in an instant, his face was practically plastered across campus… Golden Boy.

Those Sunlit Kisses (Rosie Rosenthal x Lucy Everett) MoTA

Rosie rested his head against the cool window, the train was hot. It was almost too hot. How Britain had turned from a pea soup to a tropical country is beyond him. He had been forced to take leave… again. So he booked a little place by the beach, far away from basically everything and he felt tentatively excited.

Encroaching Darkness (Bucky x Buck) MoTA

John was tired. A tiredness that seemed to seep through his bones and into this soul. He was trapped, tired, hungry… the list went on and all John could think of was that he wasn’t getting out.

Zodiac Suite (Rosie Rosenthal x Reader) MoTA

Rosie felt right at home at the busy night club, the smoke from many lit cigarettes and the scotch rushing through his veins combined with the dulcet tones of jazz almost made him forget that he had been at war just a few months ago.

Strangers in the Night (Bucky x Reader) MoTA

Running a hand down your face you take a deep breath and relax into the pub’s atmosphere. The bustling of the crowd, a mix of men in uniforms and beautiful women, captivated your tired eyes. 

Navy Blue Ink Part 2 (Bucky x Reader) MoTA

You stood anxiously at the side of the airfield. A letter clutched in your left hand and a leash in your right. Ghost nudged his head against your pant covered leg, making you look down at your companion.

Navy Blue Ink Part 1 (Bucky x Reader) MoTA

You sat at your little desk at the edge of your flat, contemplating how to start the letter… again. Pieces of balled up paper lay littered around you. It was almost comedic how much time you had spent trying to write a simple little letter. But it wasn’t that simple was it?

Stained Glass (Jordan Li x Reader) GEN V

You were lying in bed, headphones snugly around your head and loud music blaring in your ears. It had been a week. A week of feeling like complete and utter shit because you broke up with Jordan.

House of Cards (Bradley Bradshaw x Reader) TGM

The aftermath of the suicide mission was spent in multiple bars (mainly the Hard Deck) and getting drunk beyond belief. That led to a variety of messy pool games, slurred singing and some potentially regretful decisions.

Sorrys & I Love Yous (Bradley Bradshaw x Reader) TGM

It had been a good day at work. You had been able to finish a piece your editor had been nagging you about and you were actually happy with the final product. It seemed like it was the opposite for Bradley though.

summary: it seems like i like to set the scene or how the character is interacting with the world around them. there is a definite pattern haha.

tagging the wonderful @simiinthemirror and @romeulusroy love youuu OH and anyone who wants to ofc

#tag game #tags #jordan li x reader

[jordanli-dribbles]

do you take requests?

Not really but someone sent me a really cute idea some time back, that I really want to do but just haven’t had the time. 🙃

[jordanli-dribbles]

Wash Day

pairing:  jordan li x fem black!reader

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

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

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

"Brat." You laugh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm looking at them."

"Are you seeing them with your eyes?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you also missed them a lot. Or whatever.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"My hair grew!"

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

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

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

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

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

"Got it."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Who says it will take an hour?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What's so funny?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Is the city gonna let her?"

"No."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So that had decided that.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Should I start over?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I said they were good!" You protest.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Speak for yourself."

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

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

"Pussy?"

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

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

"No."

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

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

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

"Shut up and smile." Jordan scowls.

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

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

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

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

"Yeah?"

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

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

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

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

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

#jordan li imagine #I love how domestic and sweet this is!

[jordanli-dribbles]

Dribbles Masterlist

Jordan Li x Fem!Reader

Speechless 1.6k Words | Smut & Some Fluff

Study Date 2.3k Words | Smut & Some Fluff

Made of Glass 2.6k Words | Some Fluff, Some Angst I Hate You, I Want You 2.4k Words | Mentions of Smut, Soft!Dom Jordan

Jordan Li x gn!Reader

One More Set 270 Words - Playful Banter

Bad Dream 715 Words - Fluff

This Feeling 285 Words - Fluff

Friday Night 1k Words - Soft & Fluff

Crushin' 335 Words - Soft & Fluff

Movie Night 890 Words - Soft & Fluff Safety Blanket (Request) 1.1k Words - Cute & Fluff

Drunken Giggle 470 Words - Fluff

[jordanli-dribbles]

Made of Glass

Jordan Li x Fem!Reader | 2.6k words

Prompt #3: You think I’m weak because I’m not like you. Synopsis: They are a supe, you are merely human.

Saw this prompt list and felt a new wave of inspiration. This also got way longer than I intended.

You and Jordan are from entirely different worlds. They are a supe, ranked number two and you are merely a normal human. Currently, a barista working at Jitter Bean on the GodU campus. As you pull shots of espresso and froth milk, you're also juggling your studies at the local normal university. Your days are filled with textbooks and coffee beans, study groups and latte art. This is your world, your routine, and you wouldn't trade it for anything else. You've come to love your life and routine, especially after meeting Jordan.

When you first started dating, you noticed a certain hesitation in their behavior. It seemed as if they were always holding back, afraid of causing you harm. They were exceedingly gentle with you, treating you with a delicacy as if you were a fragile piece of glass that could shatter at the slightest mishandling. Their actions and touch were calculated and cautious, reflecting their love for you. Yet, it pained you to see how much thought and effort they put into the smallest things in order to keep you safe.

Every action they took seems to be for your protection. They open doors for you, not merely out of courtesy, but out of a deep-seated need to shield you from the world. They open jars for you, seeing an unnecessary risk in a simple task. They prevent you from doing anything they deem dangerous, their definition of 'danger' being far broader than yours. You weren’t the only human on campus but the few incidence with supe and human have left a sour taste for Jordan. Their overprotectiveness only growing.

If someone hugged you a bit too tightly, they immediately step in, serving as your personal protector, reprimanding the 'offender' for their thoughtlessness. If someone sneezes, they ensure the person stays a safe distance away, as if a mere sneeze could shatter you.

While you love them, their constant vigilance can feel like a cage. Their kindness, while well-intended, begins to blanket you, smothering your independence and creating a sense of claustrophobia. But you see the love in their eyes, a love that is as deep as the ocean, as vast as the sky. It's a love that is genuine and caring, a love that sees you as the most precious thing in the world. Every time they look at you, their eyes hold a promise to protect you, to cherish you.

So, you tolerate their overprotectiveness. You understand where it's coming from. You see the fear ingrained in their actions, the fear of losing you. And maybe, just maybe, you can help them see that you're stronger than they think.

It was just like any other day. You were sitting by the Polarity’s statue waiting for Jordan to finish their office hours scrolling mindlessly on your phone. Suddenly, you saw Andre zoom past you on a flashy new electric scooter at a speed that was definitely unsafe.

"Dude, is that new?" You couldn't help but call out, your smile wide and your curiosity piqued as the scooter gleaming under the sun. Hearing your shout, he quickly turned back around, heading towards where you were now standing. The scooter stopping with a dramatic screech that stirred up dust around your feet.

"Yeah, you like it? It's a new toy from dad," Andre replied, his voice full of pride. He dismounted with a youthful spring in his step, leaving the scooter to stand on its own. It hummed softly, like a futuristic machine out of a sci-fi movie, this wasn’t a standard electric scooter. You found yourself drawn to it, your eyes scanning over its sleek design, the fancy built-in gadgets, and the vibrant neon color that seemed to pulsate with life.

Wandering closer, you circled the scooter, your fingertips hovering just above the surface as if afraid to touch. You were intrigued, the childlike wonder in your eyes evident.

Seeing your interest, Andre offered, "Wanna give it a try?" His tone was casual, but there was an undercurrent of excitement. You looked up at him, a hint of apprehension flickering in your eyes as you glanced from side to side. It was as if you were considering the potential risks and the thrill of the unknown simultaneously.

Andre noticed your hesitation and, with a teasing grin, he nudged you gently. "Oh come on! Live a little. It’s easy, I'll show you how." His words were a challenge, an invitation to step out of your bubble and embrace the adventure.

After reviewing the basics, Andre tilted the scooter towards you, encouraging you to ride. With a big smile, you stepped onto the scooter and took off. Feeling free, you zoomed past dozens of people, the wind blowing on your face, the thrill coursing through your veins. You laughed, feeling giddy like a child with a new toy. The feeling was exhilarating, it felt like what you imagine flying would be like.

You were so engross in the feeling that you didn't notice the curb and both you and the scooter went flying over the hedges. After tumbling and having the wind knocked out of your lungs, the world spun. Your ears were ringing, and you tasted the metallic tang of blood from your split lip. Despite your body aching, you didn't care, you had never felt so free before.

"Oh shit, are you okay?!" A panicked voice rang out. Looking up, you saw Andre. His eyes were wide, his expression frozen in shock as he stared down at you with concern. Yet all you could do was laugh, lying flat on your back on the grass. He couldn’t help but laugh along with you, his expression softening at the sound of your mirth. The two of you were laughing like idiots, as if you hadn’t just been thrown across the campus.

Suddenly, a voice interrupted your laughter. "What the fuck happen?" Jordan demanded, concern etching their voice as they ran towards you. Their eyes darted over your form, quickly assessing the situation and the extent of your injuries.

"Oh, hey baby!" you greeted them cheerfully, managing to sit up on the grass. Your voice held a tone of delight despite the circumstances. "Andre was just teaching me how to use his new scooter, but the asshole forgot to show me how to brake," you explained, playfully squinting your eyes at Andre in mock anger.

Andre, seemingly unfazed by your comment, flashed you a wide grin. “In my defense I thought that was pretty intuitive!” he declared, shaking his head in a gentle, almost playful manner.

"Apparently not, jerk!" you fired back quickly, laughing at your own clumsiness. You struggled to stand upright, wincing slightly as you felt the fresh bruises forming on your skin. Jordan, immediately reached out to lend a hand. Their touch was gentle, and you appreciated their concern, even though you knew it was fueled by their instinct to protect you, anger and worriedness evident in their eyes.

With Jordan's help, you managed to get on your feet. You took a moment to dust yourself off, brushing away the grass and dirt that clung to your outfit. It was a futile attempt, considering how much you had tumbled, but it made you feel somewhat better. You licked your bottom lip, wiping away the blood from the split, wincing a slight from the pain.

Jordan stood by your side, examining the extent of your injuries until your eyes met with Andre's. There was a brief silence. A small smile tugged at your lips until you both burst into laughter, the sound echoing around you.

“You think this is fucking funny!” Jordan yells shifting, stepping towards Andre clearly pissed off that he was the reason you had gotten hurt. Their voice was harsh, the anger radiating from their body. Andre froze, and took an instinctive step back holding their hands up in front of him, attempting to keep things calm.

“Chill man, it was all in good fun. No harm, no foul.” he replied, taking another step to pick up his scooter off the ground, ignoring Jordan’s angry glare.

“No harm?! She’s fucking bleeding asshole!” Jordan yelled taking another step closer to him. They were beyond mad, you could feel the anger emanating from their body. Seeing the situation escalating, you gently grasped Jordan's arm and tugged, attempting to draw their attention away from Andre.

"Hey, babe," you murmured softly, your tone light and gentle. "I'm okay, I promise. It's just some little scratches and bruises, nothing major." you finished, taking a quick glance down at your injuries.

Jordan didn't respond. Instead, their eyes narrowed, the muscles in their jaw tensing as their teeth ground together. Their expression was cold, dark and their posture rigid, the tension palpable in the air. And Andre did not back down, his own stare turning into a glare.

You tightened your grip on Jordan’s arm, tugging them towards you. You really didn’t want this to escalate into something else. You stepped in front of Jordan, grabbing their chin to turn their gaze down towards you. "I'm okay Jordan," you repeated, emphasizing each word.

Finally, their expression softened as their eyes met yours. There was a mixture of emotions in their eyes. Fear, worry, anger, concern. However, their anger swiftly dissipated when they saw your split lip, their concern for you taking over.

"Let's go get you cleaned up," they finally said, their voice quiet as their hand came down to the small of your back. They began leading you away, but not before shooting Andre a final glare. You gave him an apologetic smile before turning around and allowing Jordan to guide you. They led you back to their dorm, their arm still wrapped around you as they guided you. The entire walk was filled with silence, Jordan's body still tense and rigid, the tension still thick in the air.

Now you sat on the bathroom counter as Jordan cleaned your face with a warm towel. They were avoiding your gaze, their expression hard, their brows furrowed and their lips set in a tight line. The air was heavy, the atmosphere suffocating. You hated the awkwardness, and the fact that they were so upset over something that seemed so minuscule to you.

You sighed and grabbed their wrist, stopping their motions, their eyes finally meeting yours. "Are we just not going to talk about it?" you asked, your tone laced with frustration. They let out a sigh and dropped their gaze, placing the warm towel back on your face, focusing on cleaning your wounds instead.

"Jordan," you pressed, placing your hand on their chest. They looked down at you, their expression conflicted, their gaze a mixture of emotions.

"You could've gotten seriously hurt," they whispered softly. You took a deep sigh, closing your eyes before looking at them. You had been dreading this conversation, but now was a good time of any. You desperately needed to get it off your chest, before you truly suffocated.

“Jordan,” you start softly again, making sure they are looking at you before you continue. “I love you more than words can express, but sometimes you treat me like I am made out of glass. Like any sudden movement might cause me break. You think I’m weak because I’m not like you. But baby, I am human. We get hurt, we bruise, we bleed, and we get back up. Please trust me. Trust that I can take care of myself. That I won't fall apart."

You watched their face fall as you spoke, a mix of hurt and fear clouding their expression. "I know you can take care of myself," they whispered, their tone low, barely audible. "But what if one day you can't? What if one day I'm not around, and you end up hurt or worse?" they continued, their voice cracking, their eyes beginning to glisten. You sighed, and gently place your hand on their cheek, their eyes meeting yours.

"You can't keep me in a bubble, Jordan," you say gently. After a pause, you continue, "I don't need you to protect me from getting hurt. I need you to be there to help me get back up. To support me when I take risks, even if I might fail. I'm not a fragile doll that's going to shatter with a simple breeze. I'm not a damsel who needs constant saving. What I need is for you to believe in me, to trust me to know my own limitations.”

They were silent, their expression conflicted, their emotions heighten. After a long pause, they finally responded, their voice cracking. "I'm scared," they whispered, the admission almost inaudible. They leaned into your touch, their eyes closing, their expression vulnerable.

"I'm scared that I'll lose you. I'm scared that one day I'll wake up and you'll be gone, and it'll be all my fault because I wasn’t there to protect you," they continued, their voice trembling. "I can't lose you."

You felt a pang of guilt for not considering how difficult this must be for them too. This was all new, and their protective instincts were only amplified by the newness. You drew them close, your arms encircling their neck, holding them against you. "You're not going to lose me, Jordan. I'm right here baby, just a little bruised," you tried joked, with a small smile, while tracing gentle pattens behind their neck.

You heard their breathing slow down, and their body relaxed. Their arms wrapped around your waist, holding you tightly, and they rested their head on your shoulder. You both stayed there, wrapped in each other's arms, in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

"I'm sorry," they mumbled into your shoulder, their voice barely audible. You shook your head slowly and pressing a gentle kiss to the side of their head, squeezing their shoulders gently.

"I know, baby" you said softly, rubbing their back in soothing circles, "And I love how you take care of me, but I just need you to ease up a little."

Their grip on your waist tightened, their arms wrapping tighter around you. "Okay," they replied, their voice a soft whisper. As they pull back, their gaze was tender, their eyes soft. You couldn't help but smile and press a soft kiss to their lips, the gesture a reassurance that everything was okay. They look at you for a moment before speaking, their voice soft and laced with sincerity. "I promise I'll try my best to be less overprotective." They said their thumb softly brushing over your bruise lip.

"Good, because I really want to use that scooter again," you said with a playful grin. They let out a light chuckle the stress melting away from their body, slowly rolling their eyes at your comment. A gentle smile spreading across their lips as they leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead.

"We'll see about that," they replied. You couldn't help but laugh, at least they were trying. You knew it would take time, their overprotectiveness would not disappear overnight, but at least they were willing to try. And despite their overprotectiveness, they always made you feel safe, secure and most of all, loved. For in love, as in life, sometimes it's the cracks on your skin that allow the light to shine through.

Author's Note Last line inspired by the song Anthem by Leonard Cohen. Plot loosely inspired by a friend who shattered her wrist and dislocated her shoulder while we were riding Bird scooters around Santa Monica at three in the morning a few years back.

#gen v #jordan li #jordan li x reader #gen v x reader #gen v fanfiction #jordan li x you

[jordanli-dribbles]

Study Date

Jordan Li x Fem!Reader | 2.3k words

"Why does Brink insist on making all his tests so fucking confusing?" You groan, slapping the paper in your hand onto the ground in frustration. You lean your head back onto the couch behind you, looking up at the ceiling, mind numb.

You and Jordan were sitting on the floor of their dorm room, studying for the upcoming midterms. Books and papers scattered all over the floor, surrounding you. You had been at it for the last three hours, yet despite your best efforts, nothing seems to be sticking.

Jordan laughs, reaching over to retrieve the discarded paper, their eyes scanning over it. "You know, these questions probably wouldn't be as confusing if you actually paid attention in class," they remark, attempting to give you a stern look, yet the corners of their mouth twitch upwards.

“Well I would if the TA wasn’t so fucking hot,” you say leaning in to kiss them. They roll their eyes, pushing you away playfully. “Yeah, try all you want, flattery will get you nothing from me,” they say slapping your thigh with the paper, "now concentrate."

“Boo, you’re no fun!” you pout, taking the paper back from Jordan to look it over. They laugh, bumping their shoulder against yours. “Wait, you didn’t write these did you?” You ask, holding up the paper towards them, with a raised eyebrow.

They playfully snatch the paper from your hand, chuckling, "No, Brink writes the tests. I just grade them." They rest the paper on their thigh as they glance around the piles of papers on the floor, leaning over you to grab the book next to you. "Alright, let's see. It's actually not that difficult, if..." they start to explain, flipping through the pages of the book.

They continue with their explanation, but your brain was too fried to listen, all you could do was stare at them. Their big beautiful, brown eyes scanning over the page, their eyebrows scrunch together focusing on every word. Their lips moving softly as they read the words out loud, their dimple ghosting their cheek. Strands from their short bob sliding out from behind their ear as they picked up another paper, before turning it towards you.

“You’re not even fucking listening,” they say with a huff, poking your ribs, pulling you out of your daze. You laugh shaking your head slowly, leaning over them to push the loose strands of hair behind their ear.

"I told you. You're a distraction, baby," you say with a smile. Pushing against their shoulder, so they lay flat on their back, your knees on either side of their waist. Papers scrunching beneath the weight of both of you. You smile as you lean over them, placing soft kisses on their cheeks and along their jaw, as their hands grip your waist.

“You’re so fucking distracting,” you whisper against their soft skin, your mouth moving down their neck, nipping gently, leaving small kisses here and there.

They let out a breathily moan, the grip on your waist tightening. You ghost your lips over theirs whispering, “so…so pretty,” kissing their lips softly as you watch their cheeks blush pink. Paper crinkling beneath you, as the kiss deepens. Their hands roaming under your shirt, the touch of their fingertips causing goosebumps to form across your skin. Your own hands roaming under their loose grey shirt, their skin soft and warm under your touch. You pull away slightly catching your breath, tugging at the hem of their shirt urging them to take it off, before removing your own.

Your mouth instantly moves back onto theirs, tongues exploring each other, chest pressed tightly together. Jordan's hands roaming down your back to your ass, gripping it firmly. Your lips trailing down their neck, to their collar bone. Nipping gently at their skin, soothing it with your tongue. Their moans growing louder as you knead their breasts, placing soft kisses on each breast before taking a nipple into your mouth. Tongue swirling around it, as your fingers tease the other. Sucking harder and gently biting down, eliciting a loud moan from Jordan. Their hands in your hair, as you work your way down their body, placing wet, open-mouthed kisses, and gentle bites.

Before coming to a stop at the hem of their basketball shorts. You slowly tugging them down and off their legs, tossing them across the room. You lean forward to place a soft kiss on the front of their boxers, looking up at them, smiling, "so pretty," you say softly. They giggle, covering their eyes with their arm, the pink of their cheeks getting redder. You tug on the hem of their boxers, pulling them down and off their legs, adding them to the pile of clothes building on the floor.

You kiss their inner thighs, nipping gently at the skin. A soft moan leaves their mouth, arching their hips towards you. You smile against their skin, kissing closer and closer, until they whimper. You look up at them, watching their expression, their face flushed and eyes squeezed shut, as you tease their slit. Slowly running your tongue through their folds, their body trembling at the touch. You lick a long stripe through their folds, before pressing your tongue against their clit, rubbing gentle circles.

"Fuck," they moan, tugging at your hair. Your hands grasping their thighs, their soft skin smooth beneath your palms. You suck on their clit, eliciting a string of curse words, from their mouth. Their body begins to shake, their moans growing louder as the speed of your tongue increases. Their thighs tighten around your head, their breathing growing heavier as you work your tongue, their hips bucking, grinding against your mouth. You pull away, their juices dripping down your chin, "so, so pretty," you say. Their cheeks are flushed, their eyes half lidded, staring down at you, lips slightly parted.

You watch them as you slide two fingers inside them, a gasp escaping their mouth. Their hips rock against your hand, as your fingers move in and out, curling upwards, hitting the right spot. Their hands gripping the papers around them as they moan your name, their eyes closed, their lips slightly parted. The sounds of their moans fill the room, as they get closer and closer to the edge. You lean forward, pressing your tongue against their clit once again, licking firm circles.

"Oh fuck, I'm close," they moan, their hands gripping your hair. Their legs begin to shake, as you continue to thrust your fingers in and out of them, your tongue still rubbing against their clit.

"Fuck!" they cry, their orgasm hitting them hard, their body trembling as their muscles contract. You moan as you continue to work your fingers and tongue, letting them ride out their orgasm. You slowly slide your fingers out of them, giving them one last lick, a small whimper escapes their mouth, their breathing heavy.

You slowly move up their body placing soft kisses, as you go. Kissing their chest, their collarbone, their neck, and their lips. Their body still trembling slightly, as you hover over them. You run a finger along their cheek, smiling down at them, "so fucking hot," you whisper, their dimple forming on their cheek as they smile back.

You lean down, kissing their lips once again, their tongue pushing past your lips. You moan against their mouth, their fingers drawing lazy patterns on your exposed skin. They smirk as you break away, shifting in an instant, quickly lifting you up off the floor. "My turn," they say with a wide grin. You wrap your legs around their waist as they bury their face in the crook of your neck. Kissing and nipping along your neck, you giggle at the sensation and tighten your arms around their neck.

They gently place you on the bed, hovering over you. "I fucking love that sound," they groan, kissing you passionately, before returning to the side of your neck. You giggle again as they pepper kisses down your neck to your chest. You pull their hair, bringing their lips back up to yours. You run your fingers through their hair, before running them down their back, feeling the warmth radiating off their body.

They pull away for a moment, looking into your eyes. You can see their brown eyes glowing in the low light. You can feel their hot breath against your face. You could still taste them on your lips, you wanted more. You want to feel them all over your body. Your cheeks get warmer as the heat in your core builds, as they look at you with lust filled eyes.

They gently kiss your lips, savoring the moment, before moving their hand down your bare chest. Lightly caressing your hips, causing goosebumps to rise. Slowly, they fingers make their way back up to your chest, cupping your breast. You moan softly into the kiss, as their thumb runs over your nipple. You can feel them smirk, as they run their tongue across your bottom lip. You gasp, and they take this opportunity to deepen the kiss, slipping their tongue into your mouth. They lightly tug your nipple, before rubbing it gently between their fingers.

They move their head up to your neck, sucking the spot behind your ear. The sensation eliciting a quiet gasp. As they continue, their hands run over your body. You moan louder, feeling their tongue slide up your neck to your earlobe.

"My beautiful girl," they whisper. You whimper, feeling them roll your other nipple between their fingers. "I'm going to make you feel so good, baby." You let out a loud moan, feeling their hand reach down and palm you through your legging. They rub you slowly, and you squirm underneath them, feeling a damp spot start to form in your underwear.

"So needy," they purr, pulling away from you. You whimper, wanting their hands on you again. You watch as they move to the foot of the bed. You raise your head to look at them, only to see them kneeling down. They slowly begin to pull your leggings down, along with your panties. You lift your hips, making it easier for them to remove them.

"Fuck, baby," they growl, pulling you closer to the edge of the bed. They throw your legs over their shoulders, and lean in to place a kiss on your thigh, biting lightly. They leave a trail of kisses, getting closer and closer to your core. You whimper, feeling their hot breath against your pussy.

"Already dripping," they whisper, running a finger up your slit. "You want my tongue on that pretty pussy, baby?"

"Yes," you gasp, feeling them blow gently on your clit. They smile and begin to lick up your slit, swirling their tongue around your clit. You moan loudly, grabbing the sheets tightly. You can feel them smile, as they wrap their lips around your clit, sucking. Your legs trembling, as they suck harder. You grip their hair, as they slip a finger inside you.

"Jordan," you moan, as they begin to pump their finger. They hum against your clit, sending shivers through your body. Your moans get louder, as they slip a second finger in, pumping faster. Their fingers curling, hitting that spot, as they lap at your clit.

"Oh, fuck," you gasp, holding onto their head, keeping them against you. Their moans sending vibrations through your body. You can feel the knot in your stomach beginning to unwind. Their pace quickens as their tongue swirls around your clit. Your hips buck, crying out their name, as they continue. You grip the sheets tightly, arching your back pushing against them.

"Fuck, don't stop," you moan. You feel yourself getting closer. You grind your hips against their face, wanting more. You feel their free hand grip your hip, holding you still, as their tongue presses flat against your clit. You scream their name, feeling the knot come undone, as your orgasm rips through your body. They keep their fingers inside, continuing to pump and lick, prolonging your orgasm. However their tongue didn't stop, even as you whimpered and twitched from their touch.

"J-Jordan, fuck stop," you cry out, your body twitching. They groan against your core as they slow down. They slowly remove their fingers, pressing one last kiss to your clit, sending shivers through your body. They kiss your inner thighs, before standing up, licking their fingers clean.

"Fucking delicious," they grin. "Sorry, baby. You’re just so pretty when you cum,” they say against your lips. You kiss them gently, moaning softly at the taste. They break the kiss and give you a small smirk. "But if you think this is going to get you from study, you are so wrong, sweetheart."

They say pulling away, slapping your thigh as they walk away to gather their clothes from the ground. You turn to lay on your side, still on the bed, watching them. "But I want you," you whine, with a fake pout. They chuckle, walking back towards you leaning down. "Well then, you better study," they murmur against your lips kissing you softly before standing back up and grabbing your clothes from the floor and tossing them to you on the bed.

"Like I said, you're no fun!" you say dramatically, from the bed. They give you a cocky grin, walking towards you. They lean down and give you a long and slow kiss, cupping your face.

"Yet you were screaming my name, a few minutes ago," they say, teasingly before slapping your ass and walking away. You huff in protest, sitting up on the bed, pulling on your clothes.

"You're such a dick," you say, leaning back against the wall. They always had to say the last word.

"You know you love it," they smirk, sitting back down on the floor, watching you.

"Fuck you," you say laughing, throwing a pillow at them.

"Later, baby," they wink, catching the pillow.

Something sweet and smutty! Gifs by stannyramirez

#gen v #jordan li x reader #jordan li #jordan li x you #gen v x reader #jordan li smut #smut #derek luh #london thor

[jordanli-dribbles]

Movie Night

Jordan Li x gn!Reader | 890 words

Just a little something obnoxiously sweet.

Summary: You, Jordan and the gang get together for your weekly movie night.

You were sitting on Jordan's lap, their head resting on your shoulder, their arms wrapped tightly around you. You were holding their phone, both of you intently looking at an image on the screen.

"You can't be serious, that is definitely blue!" You exclaimed, turning slightly to look at their face dumbfounded. They lift their hand up to zoom in on the image trying to get a better look.

"Where the fuck are you seeing blue? That’s definitely gold!" They say, lifting their head up slightly to look at you, their eyebrows pinch together.

You stare at them with a raised eyebrow, feigning concern. "Babe, I'm genuinely concern about your vision," you said in a mock-serious tone, looking at them dead in the eye.

They slowly roll their eyes and scoff, which makes you laugh. "I have perfect fucking vision, you're the one who needs to get their eyes checked," they reply, pinching your hips, before grabbing their phone from your hands.

A small snort escapes your lips as you laugh. "I'm the one who can see in the dark, babe," you quip with a smile, leaning back to rest your head on their shoulder. "You're the one who can't tell the difference between blue and gold," you say, playfully tapping their nose.

“You're such an ass," Jordan says, lightly nipping your ear, which causes you to giggle.

"You love my ass," you retorted, shaking your hips against them for emphasis.

"I do. I really do," Jordan murmurs against your neck, biting softly.

“So…is is this some sort of foreplay for you two?” Andre says amusingly. You turn to look at him surprised. You had completely forgotten you were in his dorm for movie night. You and Jordan were sitting on the ground while Andre, Luke and Cate sat on his bed. Emma, Marie and Sam where sitting on the couch behind you. All of which were staring at you and Jordan, amused trying to hold back a laugh.

You blush, turning to hide your face in the crook of Jordan's neck. Jordan lets out a laugh, holding you tighter. "Yes," they answer bluntly, looking at Andre with a wide grin.

"Jordan!" You whine, slapping their arm as the whole group bursts out laughing.

"What, its true! You love arguing with me," they exclaim. Their laugh vibrating against your back.

“There would be no reason to argue if you weren't wrong all the time,” you quip, trying not to laugh.

They huff. "Yeah, okay. Keep telling yourself that, princess," they say, nipping your jaw.

"Ok, if you two are done being adorable, can you help us decide on what to watch?" Cate says, interrupting your banter.

You lifted your head up, turning around to see everyone looking at you. "Uhhhh, how about The Little Mermaid?" You suggest. Everyone looks at you unimpressed.

"We watched that last week," Sam says, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, uh...Beauty and the Beast?"

"We watched that like 2 weeks ago!" Andre exclaims with a huff.

"What about..."

"We can't watch Mulan, we've already seen it five times this month!" Luke adds, holding five fingers up.

"But I like Mulan!" You say softly with a pout, leaning back to rest on Jordan’s chest.

"How about we watch Shrek, we haven't seen that in a while," Jordan suggests, looking at Luke.

"Shrek!" You and Emma cheered at the same time, high-fiving each other, which caused everyone to laugh.

"Oh my God, you two are dorks," Marie says, shaking her head.

"And yet you love us," you quip, winking at her.

"Debatable," Sam says, smirking. You throw a pillow at him, causing him to laugh. He quickly throws it back but Jordan catches it mid air.

"I don't know why I put up with you," Jordan sighs, tightening their arms around you, hugging you close to their chest.

"Because you love me," you reply, placing a soft kiss on their lips.

"You're lucky you're cute," they mutter, placing a soft kiss on your neck.

"Can we watch Shrek now?" Emma whines, breaking you and Jordan from your moment.

"Yes we can watch Shrek now," Andre says, rolling his eyes and putting the movie on, turning off the lights. You nestle closer to Jordan, turning your attention to the screen, as they rest their head on your shoulder.

You didn't pay much attention to the movie, more focused on Jordan. They were absentmindedly drawing patterns on your arms with their fingers, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. You turned your head to look at their face, admiring how their hair fell across their face. You gently brushed the hair out of their face, making them turn their head and look at you. They smiled, leaning down to give you a gentle kiss. You let out a happy sigh when they pulled away, resting your head back on their shoulder, turning back to look at the screen.

You loved moments like this, surrounded by the people you love, spending a lazy afternoon together. It made you happy, it was something you never thought you would have, especially with the way things started out. But now you couldn't imagine your life without them.

Jordan kissed your cheek, smiling. "Love you," they murmured, rubbing their nose against the side of your face. You sighed happily, leaning into their touch. "I love you too, baby."

Just some fun college normalcy. Plus I like the idea of movie nights consisting of nothing but animated and Disney movies. Gifs by stannyramirez

#gen v #gen v x reader #jordan li x reader #jordan li x you #jordan li #soft jordan #fluff #derek luh #london thor

[jordanli-dribbles]

Absolutely beautiful, I love it!

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

[jordanli-dribbles]

Ugh, what happen to all the smutty Jordan Li posts! 😭

#gen v #jordan li #need more smut #need more jordan li #i miss them #derek luh #london thor

[jordanli-dribbles]

Crushin'

Jordan Li x gn!Reader | 330 words

You fell asleep on Jordan's bed, waiting for them. They were attending a top-five donor gala, and you knew how much these types of events stressed them out. The thought of them navigating through the sea of potential donors, plastering on a fake smile as they shook hands and made small talk, unable to shift comfortably, was enough to tug at your heartstrings.

You awoke as the bed dipped, with Jordan slowly crawling over you. Their substantial frame engulfed you entirely as they buried their face into the crook of your neck. Their heavy sigh echoed in the quiet room as you wrapped your arms and legs around them, your fingers gently stroking their short hair.

"Hey, beautiful," you whispered, your breath mingling with the scent of their skin as they nestled closer, finding solace in your embrace. Their response was a soft hum of contentment, punctuated by a gentle kiss on your neck.

A shaky breath escaped you as they relaxed, the weight of their body pushing you deeper into the mattress. "Jordan, baby, you're crushing me," you managed, slightly out of breath. In this form, they essentially became dead weight when they fell asleep.

They shifted instantly, their form shrinking as their hair grew between your fingers. "Better?" they inquired, readjusting to nestle against you in their now smaller form.

You chuckled softly. "Well, I can breathe now," you quipped, holding them close. Their smile against your neck was a silent reassurance as you continued to stroke their hair, your other hand soothingly tracing circles along their back.

After a long silence, they murmured a small "thank you," against your chest. You understood the weight of their gratitude, a recognition of the comfort you provided amidst their turmoil.

You tenderly kissed the top of their head, whispering, "Go to sleep, baby, I've got you," providing them with the reassurance they needed. As your hands continued their soothing rhythm on their back and through their hair, you could feel them gradually drifting to sleep.

Something fluffy for the Valentine's holiday (a few days late but c'est la vie) Gifs by stannyramirez

#gen v #gen v x reader #jordan li x reader #jordan li x you #jordan li #soft jordan #fluff #derek luh #london thor

[jordanli-dribbles]

Friday Night

Jordan Li x gn!Reader | 1k words

It's Friday night, and here you were, knee-deep on your third round of laundry. The gang had dispersed to some club or another, except for Jordan who had stayed late to help Professor Brink grade some papers. They encouraged you to go out, but you were exhausted, the relentlessness of the week finally catching up to you and the neglected mountain of laundry on your couch, could no longer be ignored. Plus, the thought of going out without Jordan didn't quite hold the same appeal.

As you were humming along to the music playing from the laundromat speakers, folding your clean clothes into a neat pile, you felt a gentle hand on the small of your back. "Hey baby," you heard, a smile instantly gracing your face at the sound of their voice. Although you hadn't told them you were going to the off-campus laundromat, you weren't surprised they found you. They insisted on sharing locations after you and Emma got lost at a concert the year before.

"Hey love," you replied, leaning in to give them a tender kiss. Their hand giving yours a small squeeze before they lifted themselves to sit on the folding table in front of you. Their legs dangled, and the curls of their short bob bounced with the sudden movement. You turned back to continue to fold your clothes, quickly glancing at the clock on the wall. "I thought you were going to stay late with Brink tonight?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, it was barely passed seven.

“I was suppose to but Brink got a call from Vought and basically told me to fuck off,” they said nonchalantly, reaching out to grab one of your sweaters from the pile. You scuffed, Brink was an asshole but they meant a lot to Jordan so you tried to keep your opinions to yourself. You turned your head, opening your mouth to respond but paused when you noticed how their brows furrowed as they focused on the sweater, folding it into a perfect square. You chuckled at the sight, and went back to work.

A couple minutes of silence passed, the two of you folding and sorting laundry side by side. It was nice and familiar, a small comfort after a busy week. You felt them staring at you, their gaze heavy and filled with something unreadable.

“You’re staring,” you said as you placed the last of the clothes back in the hamper.

"I am," they answered, still not taking their eyes off you. You laughed, rolled your eyes playfully. They smiled as they took your hand and guided you to the space between their legs, their arms instantly wrapping around you as ran your hands up their thighs. They cupped your face with their hands, tilting it up to meet their gaze. They silently brushed their thumb across your cheek, their lips gently ghosting over yours, making you shudder. You leaned forward and captured their lips in yours. The kiss was sweet and slow, melting the stresses of the week away. They pulled back slightly and rested their forehead on yours, both of you breathing heavily.

“Are you almost done?” They asked softy, their breath tickling your face. “Almost,” you said as you moved to rested your head on their chest, “There’s one more load in the dryer.” you mumbled onto their chest. Their arms tightly wrap around you shoulders resting their head on top of yours.

You both stood there silently, listening to the sound of the other breathing. This was your favorite place to be, wrapped up in the warm embrace of their arms. You felt your body relax even more onto them. It was easy to forget the world when you were wrapped up in their arms like this. They were the only person you trusted to make you feel this safe, this loved, and it was moments like these that made your heart burst.

You felt yourself drifting, soothed by the sound of their heartbeat. You yawned, clinging to them tighter, not wanting to leave their arms just yet. You both enjoyed the quiet comfort of each other's presence a while longer until the timer on the dryer broke the silence, prompting a groan from you. You felt them chuckle into your hair, as they pulled back to look you in the eyes.

"I'll get the last load and then we can go to bed, okay?" they said gently, lifting your chin and placing a quick kiss on your lips. You nodded, pulling yourself away from them. You watched as they hopped off the table, their feet hitting the ground with a soft thud. Leaning back on the folding table, you watched as they transfer the clothes from the dryer into the basket a small smile appearing on your face. They were beautiful. The way the soft lights casted shadows on their features, how the ends of their hair curled and bounced against their neck, the way their muscles flexed under their t-shirt as they lifted the heavy hamper of clean clothes, you were transfixed.

"Now who is the one staring," they teased as they made their way towards you. You rolled your eyes and reached out your hands, taking the basket from them dumping the clothes on top of the folding table. They chuckled and grabbed the clothes to begin folding besides you. "Thank you," you said kissing their cheek softly, grabbing a sweater and began folding it.

"Of course," they replied, their dimples on full display as they smiled. You both fell into a comfortable silence. The sound of the music from the laundromat's overhead speakers and the rhythmic motions of the two of you folding and putting clothes away was relaxing. A yawn escaped your lips as you finished folding the last of the clothes, leaning heavily onto their side. They laughed softly, placing their arm around your shoulders and gently kissing the side of your head.

"Let's go home, baby" they whispered, placing the last article of clothing into the hamper. You nodded, sleepily leaning your head onto their shoulder. They took the hamper and guided you towards the door, placing their hand on the small of your back. As you opened the door and left the warmth of the laundromat, you couldn't help but stare at the person next to you. A smile tugged on the corners of your lips. Yeah, you really did love this person.

Need more domestic Jordan! Gifs by stannyramirez

#gen v #gen v x reader #jordan li x reader #jordan li x you #jordan li #soft jordan #fluff

[jordanli-dribbles]

Same vibe, different energy ❤️‍🔥 London's image is from Euphoria Zine in 2021 Derek's image is from LadyGunn in 2019