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#gen v fanfic
inklore · 7 months
Note
I’ve seen your reblog ‘“i’ve been thinking about you all day” as they’re filling your pussy’ and I was wondering if it was okay to request this with Jordan Li (established relationship)
NIGHTS LIKE THESE
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pairing: jordan li x (f)reader
contents: foreplay, p in v, oral, this is very soft, it’s basically fluff with smut, both of their presenting forms involved, everyone is love sick and clingy idk | wc: 860
note: they're everything to me!! i have something much longer in the works for them but i needed to write something quick and yearny.
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Your wrists are pinned above your head, their fingers twined with yours as they hold you in place, as if you’d ever escape them, leave them, or try to. 
As if you could go anywhere with their body pressed against yours and their hips moving between your thighs. 
Slow thrusts that make you feel every inch of them moving inside of you. Fucking you at that languid pace that comes from the frustration of long days and the yearning that pricks at one’s heart from being separated for too long. 
Course work and keeping your rankings are chores in and of themselves, but living up to the expectations it sets is even harder. So if a day goes by and Jordan can’t have you pressed up against them, at their side, or at the very least your nose in your test books laying against the other sprawled on their bed, each of you doing your own thing: their day just doesn't feel right. 
Doesn’t feel normal if they can’t pull you to the side in the hall and press a kiss on your lips. 
Can’t get the death glare you always give them when they forget to eat lunch because they were too busy helping Brink, and you surprise them with dinner and dessert—the dessert usually forgotten and turns into you between their legs or vice versa. 
Their days aren’t normal unless you’re in them. 
They haven’t felt normal since the two of you decided to try this. To be together. 
“You’ve rewired me,” they mumble against your shoulder as the two of you try to fall asleep one night. The clock on your nightstand glowing 1:00AM in big, haunting letters. Your night supposed to be spent working, but there are only so many sneaking glances and innocent touches against skin before you are both done pretending you want to do anything besides have the other naked and against you all day. 
And you know that they’ve rewired you too. 
Made the fucked up in your life a little less fucked, made the days easier to endure when there’s the constant pressure of greatness looming over you. 
You could crash and burn, and you know you’d still have their support, just as they would have yours. And that’s a higher score than rankings could ever give you. 
It’s rare the two of you will go a day without seeing each other, without ending up pressed together in bed—weed filled lungs laughing until the haze lolls you to sleep and you’re waking the next morning to Jordan’s alarm clock and the shifting groan of both their forms pulling their pillow over their head. Pulling you back down into bed when you actually do something crazy like get up and not lay with them for five more minutes. 
But nights like these make up for days when you are both swamped and Brink needs Jordan for something, and you are stuck alone with your nose in a book or forcing Marie and Emma to get Vought A Burger with you. 
Nights where there’s no rush. No need to go fast and get off as many times as your body aches for—as many times as the other wants to swallow and taste the pleasure each time you come against them, on top of them, or inside of you. Like you’re both dying of thirst, and only the others come will do. 
These nights are slow. Savored. Like you’ve been away at war rather than occupied over a span of twenty four hours. 
Jordan kisses you achingly slowly these nights. Let’s their tongue linger in your mouth for longer than normal, nipping at your bottom lip with gentle teeth. Their fingers stripping you of your clothes like they need to press their lips to every bit of skin they free. 
And when their tongue finally makes contact with your pussy it feels like you can finally breathe. Like you’ve been holding your breath for days—all night—for them to finally soothe the ache that they’ve caused. 
Their hips buck against the air when you switch positions, and your tongue presses between their thighs. A slow tease of teeth and tongue tracing down their hip bones until you’ve reached where they’re soaked, or hard for you. 
Neither of you letting the other come until Jordan is inside of you. 
Until you’re both sighing from that first initial push inside, the head of their cock easily fills you with how wet you are—how wet they’ve made you. Gasps breathed into mouths from that first slow roll of their hips. 
It’s heady and fucking torturous, and you love it. 
You both do. 
“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” they murmur against your lips. Their fingers flexing against yours as they keep them above your head, as they completely take control of your body and show you just what they’ve been thinking about. “You take up every part of my brain, and it’s a problem, but I fucking love it.” They moan into your mouth; roll their hips in that way that has air whooshing from your lungs and your pelvis pushing up to drive them deeper. 
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yameoto · 2 months
Text
HELL IS A (FUCKING) ROOMMATE. JORDAN LI.
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synopsis ; your roommate has the libido of a goddamn animal and it's driving you insane. not to mention the fact they have an annoying habit of jerking off in your dorm. to you.
they want you? fine—they can have you. only on your terms, though.
✗ warnings ; dom!reader, sub!jordan. fem!reader, perv!roomate!jordan, dubcon, voyeurism, excessive masturbation (soz). wc ; 4.2k
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YOU can do this. you can do this.
you grunt as you fumble for the key. cursing as, with an extreme lack of coordination—you begin to forcibly ram the bloody thing into the lock with the grace and precision of a sledgehammer. what you lack in motor control you make up for with inner beauty—or something.
the do not disturb sign rattles mockingly off the handle, meaning your roommate is definitely inside and definitely not helping out. you grit your teeth, entire body off kilter as you're preoccupied with balancing the boxes cramful of belongings in your arms; big and bulky and absolutely not helping your aim. you curse, loudly as they almost almost tumble out of your grasp the moment the key miraculously jams into place, jerking wildly to catch them. (note: super strength does not come with super-hand-eye-coordination.)
“fucking– stupid- key– fucking better– woah!” 
without warning, the door swings open, inwards. a montage of your entire life flits before your eyes as you hurtle forward, boxes and all. you just about barely manage to catch yourself with an undignified stumble before drawing yourself up; coming face to face with—oh.
two figures. bodies very noticeably.. inside. each other. naked. on, what you realise after a bout of disbelief; your fucking bed.
"what the fuck?"
one of them growls, mop of black hair flopping as their head snaps up, even though you're pretty sure you should be the one slinging expletives around. with a frustrated scowl they pull out of the dude, sending a withering glare to the poor guy they were fucking into the bedspread—to which he.. disappears? glitches out? phases out of existence? because suddenly he’s not there anymore, and you’re stranded alone with a very attractive, very threatening looking college student. 
who is also—uh, very, very naked.
“um, hi–”
“why do you have a key to my fucking dorm?”
oh, shit.
they are, frankly, gorgeous – like, one of the most beautiful people you've ever seen. their hair is black, mussed, and you can’t help the way your gaze follows its way down the threshold of an.. extremely muscled, slick torso before snapping upwards to find a mildly paralysing glare that reminds yourself that you are not in a very good position right now.
“i’m uh- your new.. roommate?'' you don't mean for it to come out like a question, but by the way they're staring down at you like you're a cockroach that just flew onto their windshield, you almost aren't so sure.
"i'm a fucking TA— i don't have roommates." their eyes narrow, which is like—alright, way to be real welcoming.
“i’m a.. last minute transfer..?” you offer, wincing as you meet their stare. their eyes are unflinching, yet still lidded in a post-sex haze. you can feel your body involuntarily holding its breath; though from the steel in their gaze or the way their biceps flex when they run a hand through their dishevelled locks, you can’t tell. 
fuck, you hate hot people.
“oh, yeah. fuck, i forgot about that.” their shoulders slacken, mouth settling into an unimpressed line; which is only slightly more welcoming than the look of murderous intent of two seconds ago. “jordan. jordan li." they say, last name and all—which is how you know they're a prick. "make yourself at home, i guess.” they don’t sound all too enthused as they skirt away from the door, seemingly satisfied with the fact that you're not a home invader—dorm invader? whatever. you just pray that the sigh of relief you breathe isn’t audible.
“great! nice to meet you, i’m–”
“s’on the sheet." jordan cuts in with supreme disinterest as they move across the room, leaning down to pick their boxers from the floor. you’re struck once again with the realisation that they are still fucking naked, and you pointedly tear your eyes away. 
“um, yeah.. hey, uh—what’s your-”
“third year, crime-fighting. don't touch my shit. no pets, obviously. if you have a dog, get rid of it. give it to the animal shelter, don’t care. don’t snoop, don't make a mess, and definitely don’t take off the goddamn do not disturb sign. got it?”
you've barely opened your mouth to reply; probably with something along the lines of what the fuck? or animal shelter? before jordan's already turned away, back muscles flexing as they sink back onto the end of their bed, scrunching their briefs up in one hand and—
“hey, uh,” jordan interjects, turning round with an unreadable expression as they glance down, and like a fucking idiot, you follow; giving you front row seat to the massive, throbbing boner that they’re still sporting—pulsing an angry, flushed red as the tip drools with precum.
“mind if i take care of this? couldn’t exactly finish, if you know what i—”
you slam the door after you, and you swear a snicker follows you down the corridor. 
-
over the next week, it quickly becomes apparent that jordan either a): forgets you live in the same room as them, or b): simply does not care. 
for starters, there’s their apparent aversion to doing laundry until their entire closet is out of commission, the coke stash underneath their mattress and also—oh. their need to get their dick wet at least four times a day. (irrespective of whether they have a dick or not).
“what?” jordan scoffs through a mouthful of cereal. “‘m not lettin’ some fuckin’ freshie cockblock me.”
“i’m a transfer, not a fucking freshman.” you scowl, and jordan’s lips curl to form a lazy little ‘o’. it twitches upwards into that infuriating little smirk, like they enjoy seeing you squirm. 
“whatever. my libido stops for nobody, not even you. besides,” they set their bowl on the bedside table, wagging their fingers suggestively into a ‘V’ shape and licking the air between. "a bigender supe has needs too."
they’re slouching against their headboard, free arm stretching lazily above their head. your cheeks flush traitorously as their biceps flex—muscles visibly popping against their frame “you can just say 'a girl has needs'. i'm not an idiot, i know what you mean." is what you grumble back, if only to ignore the inane, stupid heat pooling in the pit of your stomach. 
"but i have needs when i'm a dude, too." jordan grins, propping themselves up by their elbow, eyes gleaming impishly as they curl their hand into a fist and making a fucking wanking motion over their (currently) non-existent dick. which is—yeah. that pretty much sums up your roommate for you.
the thing is about jordan, is despite all their excessive lockerroom talk and relatively abrasive personality; they’re still rank two in all of godolkin. ergo, they’re a surprisingly busy person; being preoccupied with either studying, sparring or partying ninety of the time. 
thus, like all horny, single college students, when you don’t have time to squeeze a good fuck in, you’re left with second-best option—yourself. this would otherwise be fine, except jordan’s compound v must have seeped through their bloodstream and into their libido because jesus fucking christ are they horny.
it’s not like they make an effort of hiding it, either. they seem to have zero qualms about rolling out of bed, morning wood popping out from their briefs like a fucking beacon. 
“oh, shit,” jordan yawns when slide the covers off, giving way to the immense boner throbbing against their boxer-briefs. they don’t even have the decency to look sheepish when they walk past you, adjusting themselves lazily. you don’t miss the grunt of relief that escapes them as their hand palms their crotch before they disappear into the bathroom, either. or the little groans of relief that sound behind the door before they saunter out, towelling their hands with the stupidest grin on their face.
it shouldn’t piss you off as much as it does, except for the fact that even when jordan rouses without morning wood (or wood in general); they end up making their usual bathroom trip anyways. noises slipping from a half-ajar door and toilet lid left slippery, as always. 
they have to be doing it on purpose. they have to be. like, they left their strap-on on your desk once. which, first of all, gross. second of all, why was it so fucking big?
“jordan!” you holler, aghast as you nudge the thing on your desk, conveniently placed right next to your laptop.
“oh! that’s where i left it. sick.” jordan grins as they saunter over, veined hands reaching over to wrap around the shiny, plastic length and fuck, since when were their palms so massive—
“thanks, roomie.” they ruffle your hair with an impish glint in their eyes, smile only growing when you jerk away with a scowl. 
and that’s not even the worst of it.
“oh, shit—was that yours?” to their credit, jordan looks somewhat sheepish as they pinch a rock-hard pair of socks off the floor. your fucking socks, which have clearly been well-loved and cared for in places other than your shoes. 
“those were my favourite!” they weren’t your favourites. they’re socks. however, it makes jordan wince, which almost makes it worth it. 
hey, a little remorse is better than nothing. 
“..i’ll buy you a new pair?” jordan offers, scratching the nape of their neck. you’re almost content to let the awkwardness linger just give them just a piece of the torture you’ve been subjected to for the past several weeks — except the sliver of satisfaction is completely negated by the way jordan’s lip twitches upwards, like they’re fighting back a smirk.
“you little fuck—“
anyways, the point is jordan wanks. a lot. 
you can’t stop thinking about it. because it’s annoying. and disrespectful. and god, do they think you want to hear every pretty little moan that falls from their mouth? every grunt and groan that slips from their throat in that raspy, godforsaken timber— 
long story short; if you have to find a wadded up sock or sticky residue at the bottom of the computer desk one more time, you’re going to lose it. 
you think jordan knows it, too.
-
it’s midnight when you wake up to the sound of a bed creaking.
you’re an early sleeper, jordan isn’t. it works. you’re typically long knocked out before they even make it back in the dorm, out there doing god knows what. today, though, you’d far overestimated your ability to finish your latest assignment; so when jordan finally staggered through the door, slumping into bed with a little grunt, you thought nothing of it.
minutes pass, and the bed shifts. jordan groans. under the moonlight you can see the shadowed visage of their figure, splayed out on their bed with one hand underneath the covers; moving, repeatedly.
jordan grunts again, and you squint; bleary eyes adjusting to the darkness. the muffled, wet sound of slapping resounds, subdued by the weight of the blanket. if you didn’t know better, you’d think they were—
“mm, fuck—” jordan moans, blanket slipping down their hips and—oh my fucking god.
like pulling back a curtain, jordan’s cock springs enthusiastically to the surface; standing tall and proud as their fist pumps up and down the thick, veined girth of their length. it’s practically pulsating with need, bordering on desperate—they must be desperate, because jordan’s shameless, sure, but.. jacking off in the same room as you? 
you didn’t think they were that much of a fucking perv.
but maybe you’re a perv too, because the moment jordan’s hips rock upwards and their tip glimmers in a thick sheen of pre-cum; you can feel the telltale surge of heat in your stomach, the fabric of your panties dampening and oh, this can’t seriously be happening right now.
“fuck—motherfucker..” jordan hisses, drawing your bleary-eyed gaze from the flushed, throbbing bob of their cock to their pink cheeks and fucked-out face, mouth lolling in pleasure. they twist their head, nosing into something tossed onto their pillow that makes you stop in their tracks.
that’s.. you thought you lost that!
“need ‘m—so—fucking bad..” jordan slurs stiltedly, nuzzling into your shirt like their life depends on it. “fuckin’—stupid fucking—”
your stomach tightens, and you can’t help it when your fingers dip down under your shorts, slipping into your cunt. you should be mad, should be disgusted, should be shoving open the door and ripping them out of their covers and.. wrapping your mouth around their adorably flushed tip? seizing their hips and yanking their cock into your tight, wet little—
"oh, fuck," jordan interrupts your thought process by growling through their teeth, precum spilling from the slit of their dick and glazing their palms. there’s so much of it, so wet that even in the dark you can see the stain pooling in their sweatpants, their bedsheets. 
you’re so entranced you barely even register when it when their grip releases; length arcing and splattering thick ropes of cum against their abdomen. the sight is so mesmerising that you almost don’t pick up on the sound of your fucking name that tears out of their throat—husky and half gargled as jordan’s chest heaves. you don’t even realise you’ve been holding your breath until jordan’s figure simply lays there, pants echoing in the silent room. 
they wrap your shirt around their dick and wipe it clean. it’s only when they murmur something unintelligible—burying their nose back into your jumper that you finally, finally turn away, fingers curling deep inside your cunt.
fucking hell.
-
the second time it happens, you are wide, wide awake. which unfortunately means you have no excuse for the minutes seared into your memory and sticky residue on your thighs.
granted, at first you didn’t know. as always, the bathroom door hangs carelessly agape. steam curls from the room, wafting up and dispersing in the stuffy dorm air. what lingers, however, is the fresh note of jordan’s shampoo, body wash, and something.. saltier, headier.
whatever. with nothing more than an arched brow, you pick over the discarded basketball shorts and tank tops that litter the floor, intending to kick the bathroom door shut and be on your way. it’s when your hand reaches out, closing around the cool metal that you see it.
jordan’s slumped against the slick shower wall, fingers buried knuckle-deep into their pussy.
oh, shit shit shit—
“shit..” jordan hisses, muscles working like well-oiled sprigs as they pump into their cunt, droplets of water trickling down their skin and pooling into the divots of their body. 
your hand tightens around the doorknob. god, their moans.. if they think the sound of the showerhead can disguise the filthy nothings spilling out of their mouth, they are very, very wrong. 
somewhere between the fuck’s and annoying’s and pretty fuckin’ prude’s their full-weight crumples against the shower wall, plush ass pressing up against steaming glass like some (high-quality) porn ad as they ram their fingers in one last time, free hand shooting out wildly to grasp at nothing before the shower wall splatters with something you only catch a glimpse of before you’re slamming the bathroom door, cheeks burning and fingers trembling. with a start, you realise you’ve almost wrenched the goddamn metal off.
the doorknob is always a little bit loose, after that. 
-
you’re getting ready for a party.
well, you’re supposed to be getting ready for a  party, hence the sultry eyeshadow, glossy press of your lips and sheer amount of skin laid bare. your crop-top is just a little bit too high, mini-skirt more than a little too short.
in reality? you’re enacting your fucking vegeance.
jordan likes you. it’s a fact that stares you right in the face. and if not a crush, it’s a massive, raging hard-on. for you—only you—citing a certain roommate’s post-nut ramblings you’ve heard one too many times. 
as it turns out, jordan becomes considerably less insufferable when you know you’re the only thing that gets their dick wet.
“how do i look?” you call, doing a little twirl. it’s impossible to keep the smirk off your face, skirt flipping very purposely upwards as you spin, revealing a tad more than they ever (usually) get to see. 
jordan glances up, and their breath fucking hitches.
bingo.
“what?” you cock your head, lashes batting innocuously as they stare. playing the oblivious role is just too sweet, especially when your eyes flicker down, just for a moment, and you can see the bulge in their sweatpants growing.
poor little jordan, hard because their roommate flashed a millisecond of ass.
“you look—good.” they grunt, tone carefully measured. their gaze lingers, only for another moment before they abruptly snap their vision back to their screen. an admirable effort, really. if only their cheeks were a little less red, cock a little less needy.
“well don’t flatter me too much,” you twist away, lips twitching upwards. feigning normalcy is easy, seeing as how you’ve been doing so ever since that first night. you're practically buzzing with anticipation when you make a big show of leaving the room, snarky comment and all.
and really, jordan could've waited for longer than two minutes before moaning that raspy, broken moan (you're so intimately familiar with) from behind the door.
your lips split into a grin, and when you slide the door back open, the look on jordan's face is so priceless you hope it'll be seared into your memory forever.
“shit!"
it’s undeniable, this time. you’re no longer a fly on the wall, and they’re no longer blanketed by the illusion of secrecy; caught red-handed with their cock in their fist and head on your pillow.
“wait—fuck—i can expl—!”
like clockwork, jordan's cock twitches as if in reaction, and a drop of fresh semen spurts from their tip before trickling down to join the messy puddle on their stomach. 
“i thought—fuck! you said you were going!” 
“that doesn’t sound like an apology to me.” 
you delight in the way jordan flushes, their breath hitching. they take a ragged breath before they make a valiant attempt to cover up their falter with aggression. "doesn't mean anything," they retort through gritted teeth, mustering up as much conviction as they can. 
it’s adorable, how much they pretend they don’t want you as if they don’t jack off to the smell of your sweatshirt every night. 
“shut the fuck up.” you roll your eyes, novelty of the movement finally wearing thin. you have needs too—and with a fluid movement, you slide onto the bed and yank their hips against yours, pulling them into a straddle over your torso.
jordan can't help but hiss at the sudden contact, hips jerking instinctively. "fuck, you're cold," they mutter under their breath, though there's no denying the thrill running through them; hips bucking forward into the touch of your cool fingers as they wrap around their hard member. it feels euphoric—the contrast between your heat and coldness heightening every single nerve ending in their body. the tip of their cockhead brushing against your belly button, dripping a thin line of hot, sticky fluid after it.
“go on.” you coo, eyebrows raised. 
jorda’s hands fly almost immediately to the hem of your skirt. so eager, like an impatient puppy. 
 before you curl your hand around their wrist, grip firm and punishing. 
they freeze, head cocking like a confused puppy. “huh?” they say, biting back a noise of complaint. they want you so bad its goddamn gruelling; their fingers twitching around nothing, screaming in impatience, let me fuck you, let me ruin you already. don’t you know how long i’ve been waiting? how long you’ve kept me fucking waiting?
of course you know. they don’t know that, though. 
“you’re not gonna do anything?” despite all their irritating, fratboy-esque bravado; jordan’s unable to prevent the whininess from seeping into their tone, hands tugging insistently at the hem of your skirt. their cock pulses, painful and needy.
“you have hands, don’t you?” your lips quirk at the way jordan’s expression drops and their mouth opens again, probably to protest until you yank their thighs open and press them forward, dick pressing flush against your torso. 
"unnhnnngh.." jordan grunts, gasping for air while trying to maintain eye contact with you—an impossible task considering how goddamn desperate they are. their free hand grabs hold of your waist, grinding sloppily as precum spurts all over your chest. “f-fuck off," they hiss, lips crashing against yours, teeth knocking at their eagerness.
“goddamn tease—” they groan, rutting against your torso, to no avail. they bury their face into your collar, utterly miserable, fingers twisting into the hem of your shirt. “just get the fuck on with it—ahnnn.. f-fuck—”
“so mouthy,” you tease, delighted at the mewl that slips past jordan’s lips when your hand wraps around their tip. their chain necklace swings wildly, bucking their hips desperately into your fist.
“hands feel so fuckin’ good,” jordan sputters, drooling almost as much as their dick is. their fumbling grasp finds purchase in your shoulders as they pump themselves into your hand; you barely even have to move, with them doing most of the work.
“need to be— inside—“ jordan grunts; glassy eyes blinking down at you like it’ll change your mind just like that. it’s cute, how they look when they’re not scowling or fucking smirking at you. it’s even cuter, the way they inhale sharply when you shake your head and deliver a cool “no, baby,” their back arching when you cup one of their balls and squeeze, forced into dismal acceptance with a keening whine. 
jordan’s movements are getting unsteady, now. eyes glazing over by the second. “y’gonna make me cum,” they slur, grip on your hips tightening. it only takes a moment before their movements stutter and they’re muttering “fuck fuck fuck oh, fuck!“ and a long, gargled moan rips from their throat and all of a sudden hands wrapped around cock are sinking in wet, sloppy heat; your fingers sliding knuckle-deep into their pussy with almost breath-taking ease.
“jesus christ!” jordan croons in sheer, unexpected pleasure as they feel you shove yourself inside them, cum spurting and squeezing out helplessly from between their walls and your fingers. they squirt so fucking messily, their leaking cock replaced by a cunt spilling out out all over your palm. 
“i didn’t—didn’t mean to—” they slur, panic two steps behind their mouth. struggling to sling anything coherent together with you kneading your fingers into their pussy like its goddamn putty. “oh?” you arch a brow, and jordan visibly flushes, moaning openly when your digits curl.
“can’t–don’t really—”
“what? fuck yourself?” is your reply, because you both know they fucking do; it’s not like you don’t how their pussy sounds when it’s sliding slick against their pillow, how your name sounds cried out, thick through the muzzle of your jumper.
it’s a dual guilty pleasure—you watch, they do. at this point, you can’t tell who’s the more perverted out of the two of you.
jordan. definitely jordan. 
“too busy humping my clothes, is that it?” you purr, and jordan honest to god whimpers, squirming away from your fingers both out of overstimulation and plaintive shame. “ah, ah,” you tut, nails digging into their hips as you hold them in place, finger thumbing harshly against their clit as they cry out a gargled moan. 
“f-fuck off—” jordan hisses, practically an admission of guilt itself. they seem to know it, too, with the way they abandon all pretence and pound violently against your knuckles—their gaze burning into yours like they’re daring you to say another word. “don’t act like you didn’t—shit—fucking like it.” jordan gasps out between sputters, teetering on the edge of another orgasm.
“hm?” you pause, eyes meeting jordan’s heated, quivering stare. “jerk off to watching me?” they choke, eyes glossing over when you thrust “did you fuck yourself to my—mmhnn—!” 
an easy, all-too-familiar eye roll graces your face before you shut them up with your fingers. their pussy clenches; hot, slippery walls gripping your digits as if afraid to let go. oh, this is too easy.
“don’t get cute with me, roomie.” the nickname tastes sweet on your tongue, and jordan’s face grows hotter. a well-timed thumb to their clit flickers their bravado out like a light. “fucking hell!” they gasp, mouth gaping into a moan and eyes rolling back into their skull.
“you wanted me to watch, didn’t you?” you coo, and jordan squirms; mouth open in protest—or at least attempts at them, what with the way they keep gasping out in pleasure as you roll your fingers against their clit. 
“shut the fuck—i didn’t—”
“a pervert and a liar now, are we?”
jordan makes a noise somewhere between a hiss and a whine, crying out when you slide two more fingers into the slick canal of their core. their eyes screw shut, hands seizing so wildly into the mattress you almost think they’re about to tear a hole through the bedsheets.
“god! fuck—i can’t—”
they cry out your name when they cum, and even if its a sound you’ve heard countless times by now you don’t think it’ll ever get old. “that’s it, baby.” you coo, lips curling upwards at the way they bury their face into your collar.
they lie there, panting, for what feels like forever before a muffled, half-delusional groan leaves their lips.
“oh, fuuuckk..”
“what?”
“..i thought i would top.”
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multifandomfanficss · 7 months
Text
Don’t Be Embarrassed
Sam Riordan x Reader
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Prompt: You take care of Sam and he takes care of you.
Warnings: autistic reader having an autistic meltdown, talk of mental hospitals, mentions of sex, walking in on friends having sex, spoilers for episode 4
A/N: Although there is no smut, because we’re only 4 episodes in and Sam doesn’t have a confirmed age I’m writing this under the assumption that he’s college age 18+. This boy is taking up most of my brain space this week. We don’t have a lot of info on the the character, but this is how I see his vibes. I crossposted this on my ao3 adriansglasses. Also this is my first non Adrian fic in quite sometime! Hope ya’ll enjoy!
You were on your way back from class when you heard yelling coming from down the hallway. You had been hanging out with Sam for the day and left him for two hours to go to class. You rushed to your dorm, quickly fishing out your keys.
“Hey hey hey what’s going on?” You asked him, placing your hands out, waiting to see if he’ll let you touch him.
“It was supposed to be a good day! A good day! But apparently I can’t even fucking do that!” He yells. The Woods had done a toll on him and he was still recovering. He had been doing a lot better lately, but everyone knows healing isn’t linear.
“Sam, it’s okay. You’re okay.” You give him a smile. “You had a good day yesterday and the day before that! It’s okay to have a bad day, Sam.”
“But I was doing so good…” He sounds defeated. You slowly grow closer to him. When he doesn’t back away you place a hand on his shoulder.
“I know and I’m so proud of you, but healing isn’t linear. There’s gonna be bad days. Even people who are… for lack of a better word ‘normal’ have bad days.” You roll your eyes and throw air quotes around the word normal. You didn’t always have the best words to describe what you were thinking, but Sam always knew what you meant. Usually college friendships and relationships formed and moved fast, but even with that Sam was different. You felt like you could be yourself around him in ways you couldn’t be around others.
It felt that way since the beginning. Sure the day you met Sam was overstimulating, rushed, and tense, but after you and your friends convinced him not to kill the doctor that completely ruined his life, you got to know him a little more the next day.
“So what’s your power?” He asks.
“What?”
“Your power. You must be a supe if you go to Godolkin.”
“Oh! Yeah uh…right… It’s stupid.” You sigh, avoiding eye contact. The gravel below your feet comes into detail. You pay attention to the sparkles of the rocks being hit by the sun instead of Sam.
“It can’t be that bad. Just tell me.” You can hear the smile in his voice.
“I uh… I feel like any way I word it will sound weird, but my bodily fluids are like acid, so uh like my tears and spit and stuff. Told you it was weird.”
“No! That’s cool! I’ve seen way worse. You should have seen some of my roommates at my old place.” He jokes. You laugh quietly with him.
“So all of your stuff is acid?” He asks. You nod.
“How do you pee? Do you just like melt toilets every time you piss?” He asks. You laugh.
“No, I guess my body has some way of controlling it, but I don’t know. I haven’t really figured it out consciously.”
“I was gonna say, that would be really cool if you could piss acid. Just like pee on all your enemies. That would be cool as fuck.” He laughs. You don’t know why at the time, but there’s just something so comforting about him.
“That’s gross. You’re sick.” You laugh.
“Oh trust me I know. You don’t go through multiple mental hospitals just being normal.”
You knew he was joking, but the way he said normal struck a cord in you. You didn’t see him as wrong, but you knew what he meant. You often felt… knew… you weren’t normal either.
You were there for Sam just as much as he was for you. It took you a long time to accept his help. It took a while for him to convince you that you weren’t a burden. The first time you had a meltdown in front of him was a very vulnerable moment for you. You hadn’t been that vulnerable with anyone like that in a long time.
“I’m gonna fucking kill them.” You fumed, pacing the room, so blinded by your anger you had forgotten you were with Sam. You had promised him you could watch Waterworld after class because you’d never seen it before and it was his favorite movie.
“She is such a fucking bitch. Why the fuck didn’t she fucking tell me?! She could have put a fucking sock on the door or sent a text or fucking something Jesus fucking Christ! Like I love her, but fuck!” You were beyond angry. After an already overstimulating day and a failed assignment handed back, you were already on edge before you walked in on Jordan and Marie. Now sexiled to the lounge while your roommate finishes with his girlfriend, not caring about your plans at all.
“I fucking told him too! I told him you were coming over!” You say, upset, and quite honestly still in shock, not expecting to see two of your friends fucking on a Tuesday afternoon.
“Maybe they just forgot.” Sam proposes.
“How could she fucking forget what time I come home every fucking Tuesday?!” You huff, sitting down on the couch. You sit in silence before thinking it over.
“No, you’re right… they probably just forgot…” You feel a pit in your stomach and tears starting to well up in your eyes. You try to keep them at bay. You don’t need an acid leak today. “Yeah Jordan totally forgot. Oh fuck. I shouldn’t have gotten so mad.” You feel your body crumbling in on itself. You hate getting mad. You were so scared of your own anger. You also felt like Jordan didn’t deserve it. Yeah he could be an ass sometimes, but Jordan was your roommate and your friend.
“Hey what’s going on you look upset- well more upset than you were before… okay maybe not more upset, but a different kind of upset…” Sam’s voice trails off. He wasn’t always the best with words either.
“I just feel so bad.” The tears start to slip down your face.
“Why do you feel bad? You just walked in on two of your friends having sex in your own room. It’s never happened to me, but I think it’s normal to be annoyed.” He sits down next to you. When he gets a closer look at your face he sees the red marks on your cheeks. You were used to the burn by now. You hated crying, but sometimes you couldn’t stop yourself. Sam moves to wipe away some of your tears.
“Doesn’t that hurt?” You ask.
“They used to electrocute me daily at the Woods. This is nothing.”
“I’m sorry.” The ache in your stomach grows. You feel like such a burden.
“Why are you sorry?” He asks.
“Because you shouldn’t have to deal with this.”
“I don’t have to do anything. I’m here because I want to be.” He smiles.
“But I’m too much. This is too much. You have your own shit to deal with. I’m so fucking sorry, Sam.” You try to hold back more tears. You feel awful.
“Hey, don’t apologize. You’ve done so much for me. You promised you’d always be there for me. Let me return the favor. You’re so kind to everyone, just let me be kind to you.”
“I’m sorry.” You whisper again in a broken voice.
“Why do you keep saying sorry? Are you embarrassed?” He asks. You nod.
“Don’t be embarrassed. Multiple mental hospitals, remember?” He jokes, making a face and pointing to himself. You laugh quietly.
“Just the life of a broken fucking brain.” He laughs, but there’s something sad underneath.
“You know I don’t think you’re a monster right?”
“Why are you bringing that up now?” He asks.
“Well sometimes I think you believe the doctors at the Woods a little too much. I just wanted to make sure you know that I know that you’re trying and you’re a good guy.” You smile.
“For what it’s worth I don’t think you’re a monster either. You think I’m a good guy, but I think you’re the goodest person I know.” He smiles. “Is goodest even a word?” He asks.
“I don’t think so, but I appreciate the compliment.” You smile. You don’t know when it happened, but you start to realize that Sam had successfully distracted you and calmed you from your meltdown. You find his arm around you, as you lean into him on the lounge couch.
“I’m so glad I met you.” He smiles.
“I’m so glad I met you too.”
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bloodynereid · 6 months
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Hi, Jordan Li fan here again! Could you maybe write an angst/comfort fic where (preferably gender neutral) reader really likes Jordan, but because Jordan and Marie have been getting closer they’re scared to confess? So they try to distance themselves from Jordan and eventually the secret comes out? Bonus points if there’s some sort of panic attack + comfort in there :). Again, completely understand if not, no pressure. Have the best day!!
Whiskey in the Shadows
pairing: jordan li x gender neutral reader
tw: cursing, alcohol consumption, mentions of suicide, death, canon typical violence ish, panic attack, kissing
description: jealousy is a rather stupid emotion that unfortunately you have to contend with.
a/n: hope you enjoy this one <33 i literally wrote it out in like less than an hour and i'm actually happy with the result so yayyy. requests are open as always and yeah don't have much else to say.
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Life at God U was something you had to adjust to over the years. It was completely different from the time you spent in high school but it definitely felt way better to be surrounded by supes, not just humans who constantly pushed you away because you were ‘different’. A plus was definitely being in the top 10, which meant you had extra privileges the other students didn’t have. One was your friend group.
You first met Luke in the first week of school. You were both taking the same mandatory intro to marketing seminar and were paired up together to make a sales pitch for a product that could combine both of your powers. God, that day was almost as vivid as if you were living it right now.
“Hi.” You jumped slightly and looked up from your notes to see a tall blonde guy standing in front of your spot. 
“Uh hi.”
“You want to be my partner?” You scanned the room and saw that everyone had already paired up.
“Sure, I’m Y/N.”
“Nice to meet you, I’m Luke.” He was about to set down his bag when he realized the mess that surrounded you was going to make that difficult.
“Right, shit. Let me get this out of the way.” You quickly took all the multicolored folders from the spot next to you and shoved them into your bag, Luke pulled out the chair and sat down next to you before pulling out a notebook.
“Why the fuck do you have so many folders?” Luke said as he watched you struggle to organize them in alphabetical order.
“This class is bullshit so I mostly spend time catching up on outside projects.” You say as you are finally able to fix all your folders and turn towards Luke who has an incredulous look on his face.
“Jesus, I guess I picked the right partner then.”
“Oh don’t count on me doing all the work.”
“I wouldn’t dare.” He said with a smirk before he started to rattle off ideas of what your pitch could be.
From that moment on you two had become instant friends, eventually your little group expanded to include Luke’s girlfriend, Cate, who was probably the nicest person you had ever met. Then Andre, a legacy who didn’t actually act like it. Jordan was the last to join and all of it happened during one of your many sparring sessions with Luke.
“Ok come on you have got to be cheating!” Luke complained as you once again pinned him down on the soft mat. Your little spar was gathering some attention because the boxing ring was now crowded with supes holding up phones.
“Nope. I’m just better than you. Oh shit.” Luke took advantage of your distraction to grab your shoulder and flip you around so you landed hard against the mat.
“I win.”
“Fuck you.” You bit out before you used your powers to wrap and twist shadows around Luke’s wrists so he tumbled down next to you.
“Ok now that’s cheating.”
“We never said no powers.”
“It’s an unspoken rule!” Luke exclaimed but he had a big smile on his face as you offered a hand to him after jumping up from your own spot.
“Truce?”
“Truce.” Luke said as he smirked and grabbed your arm, allowing you to pull him up. The crowd around the ring started dispersing as you climbed out through the ropes.
“That was pretty fucking badass.” Came a voice from one of the few remaining spectators, you expected their voice to be focused on Luke but their intense stare was pinned on you.
“Why thank you. Luke’s an easy one to beat.”
“Hey!” Luke exclaimed in indignation as he jumped down next to you and threw you one of the spare water bottles he had. You grabbed it with one of your shadows and screwed open the cap.
“I’m Jordan.”
“Nice to meet you Jordan, I’m Y/N and this is Luke as you already know.”
“Hey.” Luke said as he did some kind of military salute.
“So what are your powers?” You asked when suddenly Jordan shifted in front of you. “Holy shit.”
“Yeah…”
“That’s fucking awesome.” Luke said as he finished taking a long drag of the water bottle.
“If you’re ever up for a spar come find me.” You said as you checked the time on your phone and realized you were going to be late for class. “We have to go but it was great to meet you Jordan.”
“You too.” They said with a smile as you and Luke grabbed your bags from the floor. You waved as you went your separate ways.
“Someone has a crushhhh.” Luke said with a sing-song voice when he realized you were still staring at Jordan’s retreating back.
“Fuck off.” You said as you slapped his shoulder, making a booming laugh explode out of Luke.
Somehow you had managed to keep your crush on Jordan secret when you all reached junior year. Luke was the only one who knew and he constantly teased you about the situation, any time you stumbled over your words or got flustered in front of them. It just seemed harder and harder over the years to actually confess to Jordan. They had gotten so damn confident and like a thousand times more attractive - which is something you didn’t think was possible.
Everything sort of started to fall apart in your life the first days of junior year. It was like the universe decided to throw a wrench in your stableish life. Incident 1: Andre nearly kills a woman in the club you like to frequent. Incident 2: Luke’s nightmares get worse and he keeps having to bunk in your room because for some fucking reason he’s getting suspicious of Cate. Incident 3: Jordan is making heart eyes to someone who is not you. (not that you don’t like Marie but that was the problem, she was too damn perfect) Incident 4: Luke kills himself…
It was like your world was torn apart in the space of half an hour. Your best friend, who you considered a platonic soulmate and brother, killed Brink and then himself right in front of you. The last thing you said to him was that you loved him. Right after he hugged you as tight as humanly possible before flying off to his doom. He was fucking Icarus in that moment.
Incident 5: Luke has a brother, who’s somehow stuck in a fucking underground experimental facility in the school. Incident 6: Brink’s memorial gala…
You carefully adjusted the all-black suit embroidered with shiny black vines that you had gotten in preparation for Luke’s birthday… something that wasn’t even going to happen this year or any year for that matter. Fuck, not the time to cry. You mentally chidded yourself before assessing your look one last time in the mirror before making your way out of your dorm.
You really fucking hoped you wouldn’t run into Jordan tonight. It was getting harder to be around them… every time you saw them, they either started ranting about why Marie was around so much (you almost hoped they actually hated her for a second there but there was a certain spark in Jordan’s eyes whenever they spoke about Marie) or well yeah more complaining about Marie.
You had taken to spending more time alone, you still had a bad feeling about Cate and Andre spent most of his time with Cate so that left alone time as your only option. It had started taking a toll on you though. Mourning wasn’t exactly your strong suit. 
You stepped into the decorated hall and cringed at all the posters with Brink. You knew he was a good man but… Luke wasn’t fucking crazy. You had been trying to help him for months, he had a reason to do it and you were going to try to find his brother… as soon as this damn gala was over.
You picked one of the champagnes off of a random waiter’s tray and quirked your lips up. Time to put on a real fucking show.
The next hour was spent mingling and chatting up potential sponsors. They all seemed hesitant to even speak to you because they knew how close you and Luke were but you reassured them that it was nothing to worry about. The Vought PR lines left a sour taste in your mouth that by the end of the hour you were itching for something stronger than champagne.
Once you were sure that the bartender was looking the other way you extended one of your shadows and snatched up one of the good whiskey bottles off the shelf and into your hand. You fucking loved your powers so much sometimes. Happy with your little prize a genuine smile made its way onto your face. Only to fall when you saw Jordan directly talking to Marie. They were smiling softly at each other, making a knot form in your stomach.
You hadn’t cried since Luke. All that had managed to come out of your eyes was a single measly fucking tear right before blood rained down from the heavens. But it seemed like Jordan’s moment with Marie was your fucking breaking point.
A sob threatened to force its way out of your throat as you hurried towards one of the alcoves that you knew this damn place had. What you didn’t notice was the way a pair of brown eyes followed your rushed movements. The second you were cocooned in your shadows was the moment that the tears slowed and a hiccup left your throat.
Safe. Safe. Safe.
“Y/N? Look I know you’re in there. I know your shadows when I see them.” The distinct voice of Jordan Li permeated your little hideout, disturbing the peace that you had somehow been able to culminate.
“Fuck off.” You said in a strained tone, tears were threatening to force their way out of your eyes once more so you opened the bottle and took a long swig of burning whisky.
“Y/N… is this about Luke? Shit- I haven’t even talked to you- I’m so sorry.” Those last few words made the stupid little resolve you had left deplete so you waved your hand and the shadows parted like curtains exposing Jordan’s ethereal face which looked incredibly apologetic. She climbed into your alcove as you closed the shadows back up.
“It’s fine, Jord. You had your own shit to deal with.”
“No, it’s not fine. You- you’ve been listening to me rant about Marie and I didn’t even ask if you were okay. I’m a shitty friend.” A resounding pang echoed through your heart at the word friend. Fuck. Another swig of the fancy whiskey.
“It’s not about that Jord, I’m really fine.”
“You’re drinking whiskey… you only do that when you’re stressed and/or depressed.” It almost hurts to realize how much Jordan actually knows you.
“It’s not that Jordan.”
“Then what is it?!” Jordan almost yells, probably exasperated by your perceived stubbornness.
“I fucking like you okay? I’ve been in love with you for fucking I don’t know how long. So can you please just fuck off and leave me alone.” You yelled out, only realizing after you finished speaking what you had just said. Oh. Oh no. A familiar panic started to seize your chest. Shit, they were going to reject you. Shit. Shit. Shit. You could almost feel yourself drifting off to join your shadows when warm hands gently got a hold of you.
“Y/N, Y/N. Listen to me, you have to breathe. You have to breathe with me. Come on. No passing out on me tonight. You didn’t even hear what I was going to say. Hey.” Your breathing started to slow down as you listened to Jordan’s calming voice. They were slowly bringing you back to earth as their hands rubbed against the material of the suit, creating a calming pressure. 
“Sorry about that.” When Jordan realized I was calming down I saw a quirk of a smile appear on their face, her eyes twinkled in the dark with an intensity I had gotten familiar with over the years.
“You don’t have to be sorry at all. You get those often?”
“More now than before. I’m really fucking sorry, let’s just forget I sa-”
“No, nope. No take backsies. How the fuck did you think I didn’t like you, no wait sorry, love you back?”
“I-umm” You stuttered out as you looked at Jordan in awe. They loved you back. Holy fucking shit.
“Who came up to who first? I’ve wanted to ask you out on a date for years.”
“And why didn’t you?” You said as Jordan smirked at your renewed confidence.
“Because you are wayyy out of my league. I mean you are like the most incredible being to grace the Earth.”
“Ok now you’re exaggerating things, Jord.”
“No I’m not. I can’t believe you didn’t realize I wasn’t totally gone for you before.” You let the giddy feeling of love spread through your extremities when a realization made you stop short.
“What about Marie?”
“Marie? What are you talking about?”
“You’re like-” You made wavy motions with your hands that had Jordan’s laugh resonating against the shadows, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you watched them.
“Oh fuck, you are too funny, love. No, me and Marie are not-” Jordan repeated the wavy motions you had just done which made you smack her playfully. The movement had you shuffling closer to Jordan so now your faces seemed like they were only millimeters apart.
“Fuck.” You uttered under your breath as your nose skimmed against Jordan’s.
“Fuck is right. Can I- I umm really want to kiss you right now.”
“What are you waiting for?” You answered just as Jordan surged forward and your lips met in an explosion of sensations. You felt your shadows jump and play around you excitedly as you pulled Jordan impossibly closer by threading your fingers in their oh so soft hair. That decision rewarded you with a little whine from Jordan that had warmth spreading over your body once again.
Reluctantly pulling away you rested your forehead against Jordan’s as they smiled giddily up at you. Her eyes sparkled in the darkness and you smoothed the pads of your fingers against their cheek.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“I really fucking love you.” You said as you looked into those brown eyes that looked just like the perfect cup of coffee. Inviting, warm and absolutely enthralling.
“I love you more.” 
“Always a competition with you Jordan.” You said with a chuckle, making Jordan laugh in response.
“Well you should have known what you were signing on for when you fell in love with me.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
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so... reader's powers in this one are known as darkness manipulation which are sort of like the darkling's powers from shadow & bone (they're suit for the gala is literally directly inspired by the darkling's kefta lol) also here's the link to the superpower wiki page if anyone's interested.
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bloodygirlhood · 7 months
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gen v fic(s) ?? (mostly jordan tbh)
the lack of gen v fanfics is actually a crime so i am here to change that. i have a lot of ideas, and thought i could share them here to see if anyone would be interested in any of them.
— SECOND CHANCES (jordan li fic)
Nova Woods' body is made of mistakes and regrets more than flesh and bone.
Ambition is her second name and betrayal is her God.
Not that Jordan Li knew this when they started dating her. No, what Jordan knew was the girl who always wore pink even though people made fun of her, and who brought them a cup of coffee and a sandwich because she knew they tend to skip breakfasts.
Nova Woods was Jordan Li's safe place. Tender touches and soft kisses, the emphatic look in her eyes that made them melt as if she was the sun and they were Icarus' wings, and praises spilling from her lips like sweet honey that they so needed.
Until they learned what kind of a monster was under the masks she was wearing.
The only reason Nova was with them was to get into the top ten on the list.
Nothing about her was real. She was just a perfectly sculpted illusion, showing them what they wanted to see. And Jordan was a fool, who opened their hearts and showed her their most vulnerable parts.
Nova knows she fucked up. She knows that. And she is ready to do whatever is necessary to win them back. She no longer cares about the list - she never actually did; it was her parents' ambitions pressed upon her and she was just a puppet whose strings were in their hands.
Jordan Li does not believe in second chances. But Nova Woods is ready to change their mind.
(I have not yet come up with Nova's powers, super healing for plot armor ofc but maybe animal control or plant control - something that will not overpower her.)
— LAMB TO A SLAUGHTER
Samantha Riordan is nothing if not her twin brother Luke's shadow. He is the Golden Boy, the sun seems to favor him as he bathes in its light while she is just Luke's little sister (despite being two fucking minutes older than him) resting on the shadow he has created for her. She watches her brother wear the crown of glory all the while she seems to have very similar powers to his but never makes it to even the top ten on the list.
Even her name does not just belong to her. Their younger brother was named Sam, which was the nickname she went by. Emphasis on the past tense because her younger brother has killed himself so her fucking name became a taboo in her own house.
It is like the universe and everyone around her acts like her actual ability is being invisible.
That is until her twin brother blows himself up and all the spotlight falls upon her.
Love Interest(s): Jordan Li (main) & Marie Moreau (not poly)
— THE FALL FROM EDEN
tw: homophobia, religious parents/guilt
Eden Rivers cannot stress this enough: just because she kissed a girl one time (okay, maybe three times) does not mean she is bisexual. She likes boys. She is straight. She is normal. She is the way her God wants her to be.
Her knees have bruises due to kneeling on the ground and her throat burns and aches for uttering prayers for hours and asking for forgiveness from God.
Again, her mother says, ignoring the tears that stain Eden's cheeks. She feels no pity toward Eden, she sees no daughter or a teenage girl. She only sees an abomination and is blinded by disgust and hatred.
There is something terribly wrong with Eden: she kissed another girl.
Eden does not argue or fight back. She continues praying and, crying, regretting and hating herself.
Then, she wipes off her tears and cleans the blood on her knees to go back to her job as if nothing happened.
Luke Riordan sees right through his assistant but does not force her to speak. He knows how her parents are and just reminds her that she will always have a place in his house if she ever needs it.
Then, he kills himself.
And Eden is starting to question her God.
Then, she meets Jordan Li — he, no wait, she, but then it is a he again and Eden cannot understand anything. Bi-gender, others explain to her and suggest her to use they/them for Jordan.
Eden needs to know why Luke, a human form of sunshine, decided to blow himself up. Because if she cannot find a reason, it means her God has failed her.
And she has to work with Jordan, whose both forms make Eden forget that her God is watching her, reading her not-so-pure thoughts.
But when Jordan is around, Eden's God does not exist.
And she no longer puts meaning into her prayers - not after kissing them.
She does not regret kissing them. She only regrets not doing it before.
(i am actually v proud of this idea because a lot of people have to hide or fight back their sexuality due to the pressure of their parents and norms placed into their heads. gen v is not just a show about superpowers or heroes/villains, it is also about discovering your real identity and finding who you really are and i feel like this fic would be focusing on both identity search and fun superpower parts.)
— BLOOD & GUTS
In a world full of Supes, being a seer is lame, Isabel Quinn knows. She also knows how fucking pathetic it is to have a girlfriend who can manipulate blood when she faints at the sight of blood.
Isabel does not think she belongs at Godolkin University but she follows her girlfriend Marie Moreau there. She assures herself that everything will be alright if they keep a low profile - but then Marie wants to go out with the "cool" Supes and drags Isabel with her.
And then there is a woman with a split neck in the middle of the club they go to. And the crimson river is all Isabel can see. So much fucking blood and Isabel's vision goes black.
She wakes up in Andre Anderson's bed - the guy who is responsible for almost killing the woman in the club- and learns they left her fucking girlfriend responsible for it and tries to get away from him.
Andre - a hypocrite, hero-wannabe in Isabel's opinion- pulls a cliche when he grabs her wrist in the middle of the yard to justify his actions but then the Golden Boy chases her girlfriend and flies to the sky.
And there is blood again. Everywhere.
Fainting once again and this time waking up with a worried Marie hovering over her, Isabel says a dumb thing. A very dumb and unforgivable thing.
Isabel loses the only reason she came to that university: her girlfriend.
But while Isabel is running after Marie to regain her love, Andre Anderson seems like a tail on her back, desperate to prove to her that he is a good guy.
love interest(s): Marie Moreau & Andre Anderson (love triangle, andre as main love interest)
— KISS & KILL
Camila Dunlap sometimes pretends like the white ceiling above her is actually a bright blue sky that stretches to freedom and the chains on her hands are actually her sister Cate's warm hands.
She is tired of looking at the trees and being trapped inside of a room.
She is tired of waiting for her sister to save her.
Sometimes they let her see Cate. But Camila knows Cate has to do things for them. Bad things, her older sister mumbles when asked, terrible things.
At least, she talks with the guy in the next room through Morse code. Sam is his name, a funny guy who often jokes about how she is not actually real. Communicating with him keeps her remaining sanity.
Until one day, when Sam does more than keep her sane, and actually helps her out of the Woods with the help of a very tiny girl.
But it is never over.
Cate tells her that if she truly wants to be free, she has to do whatever they say. She has to turn Sam in and betray the people who have saved her.
Betrayal has always been a part of love for Dunlap sisters, who can play with the strings of someone's mind as if they were those of a violin.
(as you can see, i don't like sticking to canon so this is based on the theory that cate is a double agent. i am not sure about sam's age but he'll be aged up.)
i think this is it for now. don't question why the summaries are way too long, i tend to do that. i'd appreciate if you stated which one(s) you are interested!
thanks so much for reading this!
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freakshowtwopointoh · 3 months
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Masterlist
Ao3 (friskysixtynine)
Fairytale Made Real: 22,935 words, 17 chapters.
Cross The Line: 11,973 words, 9 chapters
All I've Ever Known: 12,967 words, 7 chapters
Various Oneshots: 12,364 words, 13 oneshots (all crossposted to this tumblr)
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Multi-Chapter
Cross The Line - A Ballet Jordan Li AU inspired by @poppy-metal
All I've Ever Known - A Jordan Li x Luke's Little Sister AU
One-Shots
Jealousy
Just...Why?
In Which Jordan And Marie Are Forced To Figure It Out
Maybe I Do Need You
A Painful Misunderstanding
Friends Don't Kiss Like This
Do You Remember?
First Date/Last Night
Fast Car
I Won't Pretend That I Won't Miss This
Jealous Limoreau
Yes, No, Who Cares
Maybe We're Not So Different (self-injury tw)
Heist!AU Scraps
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sugacoateds · 6 months
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Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Gen V (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jordan Li/Reader, Luke Riordan/Cate Dunlap, Luke Riordan/Reader Characters: Jordan Li, Luke Riordan, Golden Boy | Luke Riordan, Andre Anderson, Cate Dunlap Additional Tags: Fluff, Romance, Eventual Smut, eventual angst, Love Triangles, Love, Friends With Benefits, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Friends to Lovers Summary:
You’ve always expected college to go a little differently after high school – especially at the best university for Supes in the world – but you were hoping that your sexual endeavours would go better than your non-existent ones at high school. But alas, you’re in your junior year at Godolkin University and you’re still a loser. A virginal loser. Now how can you, a virginal loser, even think of getting the Golden Boy’s attention?
Unless…
Desperate times call for desperate measures, right?
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mercyinthestars · 6 months
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as i should've predicted i got SUPER obsessed with gen v and even more obsessed with jordan li so here's a quick lil jordan fic bc i'm a disaster
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hecksilver · 5 months
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What if: Luke didn't kill Brink?
When he looked up, the Lamplighter statue was looking back at him, a glum, empty glaze in its coppery eyes. The idealization of heroism, always gazing from above at their commoners, staring unfortunately down at everyone.
Have they always looked at him that way? He hated those looks.
Luke.
Where are you?
As if he was the fucking sun, the best thing that ever happened to God U. Maybe that's why he felt like burning all the time. It was everyone else's fault for acting as if the goddamn sun was rising out of his ass.
His breath was heavy as he walked into the Crimefighting building, shutting out those lifeless, pitying stares of every single person that passed by, and clenched his fists.
There was a familiar warmth at the back of his skull, spreading through his spine, his veins, pumping along his heartbeat. Something was off, clearly wrong, misplaced. This isn't how it should be.
Someone walk pass him, he knows who it is, the voice is familiar when it mumbles something about "sweat" and "cocaine". But he didn't cared, his pace didn't faltered, his heart beat became heavier and warmth was turning into a sharp burn behind his eyes.
The double doors where right head of him. Professor Brink's office. Brink. The man he trusted, the man that took care of him, believed in him, promised him greatness and trained him to such, laying ahead of him all the opportunities, thing that most students of Godolking wouldn't get close to get in their whole varsity period. Brand deals, donors, sponsors, so much money and social recognition, social media followers, top ranking, top grades, top boy - Golden Boy.
Luke.
Luke.
He pushed the double door with little to no care at all; ready to disseminate all that anger, frustration and fire that was scorching under his skin. Maybe Brink had an explanation; maybe he would tell him if he asked, he always said he was his favorite student, his biggest success. The same old lines.
"Brink," he barked, angry as fuck, before stopping abruptly.
He blinked. The heat, the pain, the resentment, everything seemed to freeze for a second as he took the sight before him. Trying to wrap what he was watching and make sense of it.
First thing first: it was red. Absolutely everything was painted in the deepest shade of red. The walls, the chairs, the paintings and shelves, the books and the decor, the couch and the windows. As if a bucket of paint had just exploded, oozing on everything.
Second thing second: Marie was there. Marie Moreau, the freshman with the pretty smile and pretty brown eyes Andre had brought to tag along with them the night before - the one who saved their asses when his best friend tried to get some pussy and almost ended up killing someone.
Marie who opened up to him at the Seven Tower.
Marie who had that twinkle in her eyes that reminded him of someone long forgotten.
Marie that was just 18 and wanted to be a hero.
Marie that looked like could do no wrong, your typical goody-two-shoes, walk-by-the-line type of girl. The good girl.
Marie who was covered in red, just like the rest of the room, hands clenched in fists, tense but still trembling.
He stepped further into the room and his stomach clenched, he felt like he could vomit, but held the best he could. All his previous feelings were long forgotten, his heart was still hammering inside his chest as the gory truth hit him like a punch on the fucking face.
Brink was there, sitting by his desk on his well-cut suit, hands hanging flimsy at the arms of his chair, and half of his face burst open, leaking blood on the floor.
He breathed slowly, the pungent smell of blood making his chest constrict and a shiver run up and down under his skin, his fingers stretched carefully until they grazed Marie's arm. She inhale roughly, jumping back, and looking at him like a deer caught by the headlights.
"Luke, I..." she stuttered her words, body shaking. "I didn't... I didn't mean to..."
He held her. Arms closing around her shoulders as she quivered and cried into his chest, her blood hands griping his God U sweatshirt for dear life.
"It's okay Marie,"
"It wasn't supposed to be like this..." she cried, choking on her own words.
"I-I understand."
"You don't understand," she wailed between clenched teeth. "He was going to kick me out. I can't go back... I can't..."
Brink was going kick her out? Why? What could Marie have done to be kicked out? His mind couldn't wrap itself around that idea, it couldn't be because of curfew, or else Godolking wouldn't have any students at all, not could it be because of bad behavior - c'mon, she saved someone's life.
She saved...Some Andre almost killed. Andre, rank #3, who was out with Jordan, rank #2, and him, rank #1.
"Fuck," he mumbled, of course. No one could get in the way of Godolking’s Golden Boy. Fuck this. He stepped back, holding her shoulders. "Marie, look at me,"
She was a sobbing mess, poor girl. Face covered in Brink's blood, so much distraught he thought she would collapse at any moment.
"Marie, look at me," he shaked her shoulders, maybe to strongly, but fuck if he wasn't feeling a mess as well. "Brink as fucked up, okay."
"W-What?"
"He had been down doing some messed up shit, I came here to..." do just what you did. "Talk to him, make him explain what the fuck is going on."
She looked at him as if he had just exploded someone, how ironic. "Luke I-I don't get it,"
"There's something wrong at God U, Marie. Something fucked. Something that I think is tied to my brother, and The Woods,"
"...The Woods?"
"Yeah. And I know it sound insane but I swear it is true, and Brink was part of it,"
He waited, staring at him and feeling completely insane. Until she nodded back.
"Okay...Okay, so... What we do?"
He looked at Brink. Dead, exploded Brink. Who lied to him, manipulated him, hurt him, and did the same - maybe even worse to Sam, wherever he were.
"We'll find out. Until them, this'll be our secret."
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dreamerwithapen1 · 6 months
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Cordelia Dunlap
Death has followed Cordelia since she was a child, hovering over her shoulder, a constant unwelcome companion. A cold chill down her spine, a sharp tug in her gut, and she knew- someone nearby was dead. It was a horrible power to discover. One minute, she was standing in the crowd of mourners, holding her sister's hand, and in the next, she was gasping for air in a body that no longer needed it, staring at the inside of a locked coffin.
Needless to say, everyone in attendance at the funeral was traumatized that day. Cordelia- from inhabiting her great grandmother's corpse. And everyone else- from hearing screaming and rattling from inside the coffin containing a dead ninety-nine year old woman.
As the years went on, her power only continued to grow while her control over it remained shaky at best. It was a curse, a power that she hadn't asked for but that had been forced upon her by her parents. The only bright spot was her sister, Cate. The two of them were outcasts, despised by their parents, but at least they had each other... that is, until Indira Shetty walked into their small, isolated world with a kind smile and sympathetic eyes as beautiful, perfect promises left her lips.
Cate believed her. Cordelia didn't.
But she went along with it, allowing Dean Shetty to find a place for her at Godolkin University and gladly accepting the pills that dampened her powers. She was content to be a pawn in their games because it was easier to comply than to rebel.
Then she meets Golden Boy. And everything begins to fall apart.
Forever Tag: @darknightfrombeyond @arrthurpendragon @foxesandmagic @bravelittleflower @darkwolf76 @stareyedplanet @thophil2941btw
(Want to be added to my taglist? Send me an ask or message!)
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yameoto · 5 months
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Haiii can you pls write a fic abt being rude to jordan all day which causes them to take their anger out on the reader at the end of the day and they’re just being really aggressive and manhandling?
FRUSTRATION. JORDAN LI.
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✗ warnings ; dom!jordan, sub!reader, rough sex, dry humping, orgasm denial, brat taming. not proof read. wc ; 1.2k
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THE last straw is the coffee. the fucking coffee.
the sick thing is that this time, you didn't even mean it. sure, your relationship was on pause. sure, you two had been exchanging barbed quips and jibes back and forth for the worse part of two weeks.
(there wasn't even a point to it, anymore—devolving into the most inane, stupid game of chicken; who can piss the other off more? but jordan is nothing but competitive — and you'd be damned if you let them show you up.)
but this time? you swore you were minding your business. like actual, cross your heart, hope to die—stick a cupcake in your eye. unfortunately for you, grade-school promises don't exactly stick up too well when you're standing in the middle of your dorm room doorframe; foaming, hot latte sopping into your favourite jacket. and bag. oops.
"are you fucking serious?" jordan's scowl is black, arms immediately flying out to shake their sleeves, to no avail. your mouth is already open — granted, not to apologise, but it doesn't matter much anyways when all of a sudden two hands are on your torso and you're being thrust onto a bed. you’re not exactly proud of the startled yelp that peels out of you, but fuck— jordan looks.. really fucking hot.
"you get off from pissing me off, or something?" jordan grunts, eyes flaring. there are the faintest hints of bags under their eyes, and a note of tension in their voice you've never heard before. you've clearly caught them at a bad time—even in the depths of this cold war between the two of you, they've never seemed this pissed — just.. mildly irritated.
"only sometimes." you snip back, instead, squirming as their hands dig into your shoulder. it's the wrong answer.
"no." jordan hisses, hand moving up to grip your jaw with a harsh squeeze. "no, no, no. none of that." they lean in, and abruptly you feel your heart jump to your throat; tensing at the indecipherable leer to their tone.
"here's what's gonna happen, baby," the endearment comes out a derisive snarl as their hand swallows your thigh, hiking your leg up and yanking you into a straddle over their leg.
"you're gonna hump my fucking thigh," jordan growls, edging in close, breath hot against your neck as if they're about to rip your throat out. "and you're gonna scream my name like a fucking banshee, got it?" they murmur, and you inhale, jaw slack at the sheer level of cruelty in their voice, and the unmistakable spike of heat that throbs your core.
unimpressed by your silence, jordan's hand constricts around the base of your neck, squeezing. "i said, got it?" they hiss, patience running thin, and you grunt—nails digging into your palms to restrain a wince, or god forbid—a whimper. "got it." you huff, annoyance forcing its way in your inflection as if you're not about to melt into a puddle all over their thigh. god, you've been waiting for this, waiting for this for so fucking long—a week without their touch has felt like a month without fucking water. not that you'd ever admit that, out loud.
a low, unreadable hum resounds from the back of jordan's throat. "well fucking hump, then, sweetheart." they say, voice low as their teeth nips against your skin. you take the hint—forgoing your pride and slowly beginning to grind against their leg, ache between your legs growing increasingly needy as you feed into its begging, pulsing throbs, little whines beginning to fall out of your mouth.
"i said fucking scream it," they hiss, lips latching onto your neck and sucking as your body begins to tremble, feeble whine releasing from your mouth, despite yourself. "i want everyone on the floor to know it's my fucking thigh you're rutting up against like a needy slut." they say, gaze hardening as you thrust yourself against them with a breathy moan, their tone alone making you course with need. "jordan—jordan, oh, fuck—" you gasp, hand fisting into the hem of their shirt.
"louder." jordan demands, a whisper. their fingers curl against your skin, hips bucking subtly at every mention of their name. you make a little noise of protest, but jordan's eyes flash— and you find yourself keening for their approval as you thrash in their lap, body trembling all over. "jordan—" you moan, back arching all while you grind urgently into their thigh, mind blanking. "jordan, jordan, jordan jordan—" the words spill in a shaky, hoarse slew of whines that fit perfectly around your lips, like their name was made for you. your body moves as mindless as your mouth, functioning only on one, single, primal, instinctual need.
jordan jordan jordan need need thigh fuck jordan fuck me fucking fuck me, already—
"i've felt like shit all week." jordan hisses, interrupting your highly intellectual thought process—though, they don't exactly look too cut up as you continue to hump their leg, eyes glassy and teary with want. you want more. you need more. you need them inside of you—"but you're gonna make it up to me, aren't you, doll?" jordan purrs, voice a rushed mumble as their hands dig into your waist. they forcibly jerk you forwards, wrenching your legs further apart so you're splayed across their groin instead of their thigh. this time, you can't help the audible whimper that leaves your throat. "then maybe i'll forgive you."
as if on cue, your pace speeds up with an excitable whine, burying your face under their chin. "please—more—" you force out, grasp on their hem tightening as you groan, loudly, hips bucking wildly against them. "need you— in me—" the words stumble out, shamelessly, barely comprehensible. jordan grins, and with dismay you realise they're shaking their head.
"oh, c'mon. you don't deserve it." they snort, and you whine at the sheer unjustness of it all. you were only mean for them for what? a week? a whole week of them not touching you, either—fuck, you need it—their fingers, their cock—anything to fill up the burning, pounding emptiness inside you, begging to be stuffed full. you open your mouth to protest, but jordan beats you to it. "you're gonna come on my fucking thigh, or you're not gonna come at all. okay, sweetheart?"
any potential complaints die in your throat, petering out to a dismal, shaky whine of defeat. you're still grinding furiously against them. frustrated grunts leave your lips as you squeeze your eyes shut, mattress quaking in time with your thrusts. you have no drive to win against them, anymore. all you wanna do is fucking come.
jordan's grip on you eases, bit by bit as you make a show of yourself — pants and whines spilling from you as you bury yourself deep into jordan's chest and just rut, like the useless thing you are. it's sad, it's needy, it's desperate; and the thing is you fucking can't— it's not enough. you need jordan. you need them.
the whimper that drifts from you even smaller than the ones before, and in an instant, your pants die— and you crumple into a breathless heap upon their chest. it still aches, dull throb between your legs left to pulse and groan out in need. you feel gross, and sticky, and sleepy. this is what you get, really, for thinking you could fuck around with jordan and get away with it.
"are you still mad at me?" you mumble into the crook of jordan's neck, fabric of their shirt still bunched up in your fists. "..jords..?" you mutter, and jordan smiles at the way your words slur, thighs still shaking, their pretty baby taught a lesson. "oh, doll." they grin, hand sliding along chest— your hipbone— the band of your underwear.
well. maybe there's still hope for you, yet.
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happy74827 · 6 months
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No Ordinary Life
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[Sam Riordan x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: The group had almost ran out of options on what to do with Sam, but Andre had decided there was still one more option to explore. And that option, was you. (GIF credits: @heronamedhawks)
WC: 1,179
Category: Slight Fluff, Slight Angst
We don’t know much about Sam as of right now, but I do know I would literally die for this boy. He and Emma really deserve the world, and they fr better have their happy ending (which seems impossible given the universe they live in, but one can hope). This definitely deserves a part 2, depending how well it goes, but for now enjoy the purity that is Sam.
Edit(2023): Hey I finally made the part 2, check it out here
『••✎••』
As Sam walked down the bustling halls of Godolkin, he couldn't help but feel like an outsider. All around him, kids with extraordinary powers, kids like him, were chatting, laughing, and walking to their classes. They were able to use their gifts freely and openly, and they were respected by others for it, but Sam didn't have that luxury. Honestly, he couldn’t remember a time that he did.
All he remembered was the woods, his brother, and the constant pain of being hunted.
His hand unconsciously traveled to top of his head, pulling the hoodie that Emma had lent over to him farther over his face as he tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible. It wasn't easy when the hallway was completely crowded by nosy students, but he did his best. That’s all he could really do.
Emma and Marie (as he found her name to be) were by his side, protecting him for the skewing eyes of others. For the most part it worked, except it drawn more attention to her due to that odd system that Emma had acknowledged him about. A rating, whatever that was.
It was cool to know that his brother had been ranked number one, though.
If Luke was still… No, don’t think about it, Sam.
He shook his head, ridding himself of that train of thought. There was no point in dwelling on the past, and thinking about his brother wouldn’t change anything. He was gone, and Sam was left alone.
His thoughts were interrupted by Jordan, who he was still slightly confused about. He? She? They? They seemed to have been good friends with his brother and they were friendly enough, so Sam didn’t really question the matter too much.
Plus, he kinda enjoyed the subtle sarcasm that Jordan would once in a while use. It made him feel like a kid back in school. So for that, Sam was thankful.
“Dude, this has got to be the stupidest thing we’ve ever done,” Jordan had said, turning to the guy walking besides them… Andre. Sam didn’t know what to make of him, or anyone really. He had always been so closed off from other people, that now it was almost a bit overwhelming.
But at least he had Emma, so he didn't have to worry about the social aspect too much.
Andre gave Jordan a sideways look, a small smirk on his face. He seemed pretty chill too.
“Listen, I don’t like this anymore than you do, Jordan,” Andre stated, shoving his hands in his pockets. “But with everything happening, and with Cate… this is our best option.”
“Yes, let’s bring the kid with a bounty over his head into the place where they’re all going to be looking for him. Great idea, Andre. Seriously, how did I not think of it first. Soooo smart of you, dude. Good job. I'm so glad we're friends, really I am.”
Jordan rolled their eyes, and Andre just looked away in annoyance. Then, to Sam’s dismay, an awkward silence fell over the group. Once again, Sam was struck by just how different his life was now. It was like he was suddenly thrown into another world, and he had no idea how to function in it. He was so far out of his comfort zone that he couldn’t even see the zone.
Sam glanced over to Emma, and saw her smiling encouragingly at him. He tried his best to return the gesture, but he felt like his face muscles were going to fall off if he forced them any longer.
After what seemed like hours, but really only a couple minutes, Andre halted in front of a random dorm room door, and turned to face the group. He sighed, his face set into a look of grim determination. Then, he knocked.
Three times, Sam counted. Three knocks.
The door opened almost immediately after, and the man who answered had to be the most handsome human being Sam had ever seen. He had short black hair, a sharp jaw, and a dazzling smile. It was actually kind of intimidating.
“Whadda’ want?” the man asked, his voice a rich baritone. Sam didn't know why, but it felt like the man was judging him. His eyes scanned over the group, lingering on Sam for just a second, before returning back to Andre.
Andre cleared his throat, a bit nervously, but he didn’t get a chance to speak as Jordan scoffed, shoving past the man and into the room. Emma followed, giving the man an apologetic look as she did. And thus, everyone followed, leaving the man alone and bewildered in the doorway.
Once everyone was settled inside, the man shut the door and leaned against it, crossing his arms over his chest. He glared at Andre, his eyes burning holes through his head, but Sam didn’t pay any attention towards him anymore. All his eyes were on the strange girl in front of him, you.
You were sitting on the floor, legs crossed and a bored expression on your face. Your eyes were half lidded, and you seemed to be lost in your own little world. Andre had mentioned you, a little. Said that you were the person he had called earlier, that you would help them figure out what to do with Sam, and that you knew and could a lot of stuff. But he had never told them how gorgeous you were.
Your hair was down, and looked so soft that Sam just wanted to touch it, run his fingers through it, and feel the texture. You had a cute little button nose, and a round, chubby face that was just too adorable. And your eyes were so expressive, a mixture of colors that swirled and shone and sparkled in the light.
Andre had called your attention and you snapped out of it, blinking a few times before glancing up at him. It was then that you noticed the others, and you stared at them all, wide eyed and open mouthed, but that was quickly replaced with a smile.
“Hi, Andre! Wow, you must be Jordan… Marie… and Emma? Right? Oh, and you must be the kid Andre talked about, oh my gosh. It's so nice to finally meet you all. Sorry I didn’t say anything when you came in, I was just finishing up this thing for Kota. Oh, Kota! You're still here… hi. Wait, why are you all here? You weren’t supposed to be here until 2:00, and it's only-”
You looked down at the watch on your wrist, your eyes widening even more when you realized the time. You had been talking so fast that no one had been able to get a word in edgewise, but you had managed to finish what you had to say, and it was all so rushed that it was hard to keep up.
The only thing Sam could focus on was how despite all of that rambling and mumbling, you were still keeping that bright smile that never seemed to falter. A truly happy supe? He never thought it would exist. Even Emma, as sweet and pretty as she was, tended to falsify the smiles she had. Sam only saw her real one about three times. He cherished them, of course. Every single one.
You stood up, brushing yourself off and fixing your clothes, and walked over to them. Your hand was outstretched, and your smile was radiant. Sam could practically feel the happiness radiating off of you.
You looked so innocent, so sweet and pure. He could hardly believe that you were a supe, but the fact that they were all standing here said otherwise. You had power, and you knew how to use it.
Jordan and Marie seemed to have recovered from their daze, and the two shook your hand after Andre. Marie had even introduced herself, and it ended with you in giggles, telling her that you already had known her name.
Emma was next, and she had taken your hand immediately and shook it.
Then it was just him that was left.
He stood frozen, staring down at your outstretched hand. He could feel all the eyes in the room on him, and he just knew that his hood was starting to slip.
His instincts were yelling at him, screaming at him to run. To get out of there and stay far, far away from you. From everyone.
But he couldn’t.
So, instead of fleeing, he slowly, cautiously took your hand in his. It was small, warm, and fit perfectly.
You smiled again but this time it was strictly for him, because of him, and it made his heart beat just a bit faster.
He didn’t even realize it until your smile has widened, but he had pulled down his hood, letting you see his face. He didn't understand why he did, and a part of him wanted to pull the fabric right back over his face, but it was too late now.
The damage had been done.
Sam didn’t have a chance to scrape off the dried blood off his cheeks, another result of an accidental outburst, and he could feel your eyes rake over his face, taking in every single detail.
But it wasn’t judgmental, or critical.
No, there was something else in those swirling eyes of yours, and it was then that he noticed the little flecks of gold hidden in the sea of color.
Sam was a bit embarrassed, to say the least, and he tried to pull his hand away but your grip only tightened, and he didn't have the strength to resist. He felt your hand go up his arm, unraveling the hoodie that clung to him like a second skin.
The others didn’t seem to do anything as you pulled the material above his elbow.
Your eyes roamed over the scar that stretched across his forearm, and he knew what was coming before the words even left your mouth.
Sam couldn’t bring himself to look at you as you asked the dreaded question, and his eyes were glued to the floor.
It was Emma who answered, her voice barely a whisper.
Sam despised the pity in your tone. The last thing he wanted was to be pitied. He didn't need or want anyone's pity. He was fine. Everything was fine.
The silence shattered as you took a sharp breath, but Sam couldn't bring himself to look at you. Not when he knew the look of pity in your eyes.
You released his arm, the hoodie dropping to the ground, but Sam didn't even register it. He stood there, frozen, as you slowly reached out your hand towards his face.
"Before I do anything, I want to warn you so it doesn't scare you. Is that okay with you? I just... I want to make sure you're alright. But if you don't want me to touch you, I won't. I'll respect your boundaries. Just tell me, okay?"
Sam blinked, his head tilting upwards, his eyes wide with surprise. There was no pity in your eyes. No negativity or degradation. Only a gentle concern and kindness that he had only experienced in these past few days.
Your touch was tender, and he felt a warmth spread across his face. He couldn't bring himself to deny you. So he nodded, and a small smile appeared on your face. It was still a smile, but a different kind. One he had never seen from you before. And once again, that smile was meant just for him.
Suddenly, the lights in the room dimmed, capturing Sam's attention. He hadn't noticed before, but the entire room was filled with interconnected lights, forming a grid-like pattern. They began to glow, pulsating and shifting with each passing moment. The light danced across the walls, creating mesmerizing shapes.
Sam was captivated by the whole process. And then, the lights suddenly stopped, freezing in place. Sam expected them to return to their normal brightness, but they grew brighter and brighter. It was then that he noticed your hands. They were no longer touching him, but rather, they hovered above him, palms facing his face. A peculiar expression settled on your face.
Sam didn't know what it meant, but he didn't have time to wonder because, in an instant, your hands transformed into light. It wasn't like beams shooting out of your palms, but rather, golden particles that flowed around your body and traveled along the lights, intensifying their brightness. Patterns began to form and move.
Sam watched in awe as the shapes transformed into pictures and scenes. The colors melted and shifted together. Light filled the room, washing away the world around him, leaving only the vibrant colors, the images, and your face.
Your face, so close to his. The smile still adorned your lips, and your eyes shone like stars, the brightest things in the room. Sam could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Reluctantly, he admitted that the light was beautiful, just like you.
It was the most extraordinary sight he had ever witnessed. It was as if the sun had exploded, its light spreading across the room. The colors danced along the walls, forming vivid images. Sam saw a field, a house, a family. He saw his old friends. He saw him. His brother, Luke.
Sam's face crumpled, and a sob escaped his throat. Tears blurred his vision, but they were absorbed by the light, vanishing as soon as they fell. You remained a silent observer, watching over him as the colors gradually faded, and the world returned.
The room was as bright as before, but everything was the same. Sam could still see the concern and worry etched on your face. You reached up to wipe away his tears, but this time he flinched back, and the contact never happened. Your hands fell to your sides.
Tears welled up in your eyes, and your lips trembled, trying to hold back your emotions. But a tear escaped, rolling down your cheek. Andre cleared his throat, breaking the spell. Both you and Sam turned to face the others.
They were all watching, expressions of shock and confusion on their faces, except for Jordan, who wore a mask of indifference.
Andre and Emma stared at you, mouths agape, while Sam saw the tears in your eyes, the fear evident on your face.
Of what, he couldn’t tell. As of right now, there were so many things you could be scared of. With The Woods, being the thing that contains most of it all, It was hard to pinpoint one specific reason.
Then, just like before, Andre's voice cracked as he decided to interrupt Sam’s thoughts.
"What the hell was that?"
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bloodynereid · 5 months
Note
Hey babes! What do you think about some rivals to lovers for jordan li? I love how Jordan was super competitive at the start of the show, and idk why but I wanted to see more of that from them :) anyway something angsty but also super cute?
Jordan Li is my new obsession and the little amount of fanfiction for them hurts
Sending you lots of love 💕💕💕
Heartstrings
pairing: jordan li x fem! reader
tw: angst, horrible parents... again, rivalry, swearing, fluff, crying, alcohol consumption, intrusive thoughts?
description: rivals always do have that unspoken tension don't they?
a/n: hiii sorry it took like a month to write this - hopefully it's similar to what you thought about. also sorry it's so short, i think i went into a sort of mini writing slump so i'm trying to get back on the saddle. anywaysss hope you enjoy <33
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You let out a huff as you collapsed on one of the picnic tables outside of the exam room (what really was a random auditorium). God, that exam was horrible. For some reason, it seemed easy up until the moment you dropped the stack of papers off at the examiner’s desk.
Business was probably easier than it was at different colleges because it just focused on supe management but it had a variety of key terms that you had studied like a maniac. But… you still felt like a failure. How were you going to make it past Jordan fucking Li on the leaderboard if you got a mediocre score on a random business final?
“Damn that exam was easyyyy, why are you grumbling on such a beautiful day like today?” Speaking of the devil.
“Jordan…” You said, poison lacing your tone as you looked up at the stupid smirk on their face.
“Y/N. What did you think of the test?” You and Jordan had a sort of rivalry between the two of you since you started at God U. 
Freshman year. You and Jordan share the majority of classes. It sounds like the recipe for real friendship but no, it turned into something more twisted.
“Incredibly easy, what about you Jordan? Think that you actually did well at something for once?”
“Oh I’m hurt darling. Who’s higher on the ranks by the way? I haven’t checked.”
“Fuck you.”
“I think that’s something you want to do.” Jordan’s voice held something hard to identify as they leaned forward and she winked at you.
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You smoothed out the fabric of the dress you were wearing. The gold dress hung around your frame perfectly and it actually made you feel confident in a room of people who probably had more money that you could even dream of.
A sip of bubbly champagne filled your mouth when you suddenly felt a solid presence behind you. The flute of bubbly alcohol was plucked out of your hand and you twirled around with an indignant look on your face. You really shouldn’t be surprised that the person standing in front of you was Jordan.
“Wow, so now you don’t just steal my place in the ranks but you also steal my fucking champagne.”
“It’s pretty shitty champagne, you’re not really missing anything.” Jordan said as they smiled that stupidly teasing smile of theirs as he took another sip. You rolled your eyes and grabbed the flute back out of their hands.
“What do you want, Jordan?”
“Oh I don’t know, it seems like you looked a little lonely.”
“So this whole charade was so you could check on my wellbeing, yeah I fucking doubt that.”
“Then why do you think I came here?” Jordan purred out as they leaned on one of the columns.
“To gloat.”
“Oh I think you suffer enough whenever you open up that little phone of yours to see who’s higher up.” Jordan said they trailed a finger over the hand that you were using to hold up the flute. Your eyes narrowed and you felt a shudder of pure hatred run through your veins. Quickly pulling your hand away, you huffed and walked straight away from a smirking Jordan.
“Aww did I hit a nerve, sweetheart?”
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Frantically wiping away the tears that littered your face, you slammed your phone down maybe a little too harshly on the concrete steps. You heard the protective case shatter but in that moment all you could care about is the venomous words spewed into your ear by your parents.
Never enough. That’s what you constantly felt like. You were the eldest and yet you could never do anything as perfectly as your brothers. They were getting top ranks at their supe training school and what were you doing? You were sitting at a mediocre 5. Not good enough for parents who demanded perfection in every single aspect of your life.
A sob was trying to fight its way out of your throat when you buried your head between your arms. The harsh fabric of your jeans scratched painfully on your tearstreaked cheeks. You deserve the fucking pain at this point.
You could almost feel your blood boiling when your powers turned on hyperdrive. Well that’s wonderful timing. Suddenly you could feel, hear and see basically everything. The senses assaulted your very being and a choked whine left your lips.
Why did they think you weren’t good enough? Top 5 is something kids and their parents dream about. And yet you were sitting around on a cold concrete slab crying your eyes out because of your parents.
“Y/N?” The voice you recognized ever so well, made you look up from your clothed arms. Meeting Jordan’s eyes with your own tear-filled ones.
“Fuck off Jordan, I don’t need or want to deal with you today.” You said sharply before dropping your head back onto your knees. You didn’t feel Jordan move away though, instead a warm body settled down next to you and you felt an arm weave around your shoulders.
The chill that had seemed to have permanently weaved with your DNA left when Jordan cradled you into their embrace.
“Y/N?” You let out a loud sob at the sound of your name. What you didn’t realize was that Jordan’s eyes were filled with brimming concern. They had never seen you like this, you were literally like a rock. You always took their teases in stride and easily rebuked them. Your little cat and mouse game was one of the only things that kept Jordan going whenever they were having a bad day.
“I fucking hate them. I do everything they ask of me and yet I’m never enough. I’m never going to be as good as their perfect little sons.” Your words came out in heaves and sniffles. Jordan felt a pang of emotion, they knew exactly what you were feeling.
“I get it, I know everyone always says that but I really do this time. My parents fucking suck. They constantly demand perfection, don’t they?”
“Yeah…” You trailed off as the tears started to dry up and crust on your cheeks.
“Are you okay, darling?” Jordan said softly as you looked up to meet her eyes.
“I can’t believe you are comforting right now, but other than that fine.”
“Always with the scathing insults.” Jordan said with a delighted twist of their smile. 
“You know me… thanks for this Jordan.”
“It’s my pleasure.” Something sparked in Jordan’s eyes when you smiled at them. “You know I don’t really hate you right?” Jordan said softly as they caught a stray tear with their thumb.
That was when you had the realization, you never really hated them either. You liked the competition. You liked feeling pushed and you absolutely adored their stupid fucking smirk.
“Maybe I don’t really hate you either.”
“Ah you see, progress.” Jordan said, making a zap of energy sing through you.
“This doesn’t mean we’re going to be friends suddenly.”
“Oh I wouldn’t dream of it but between you and me, darling, I think we would be something more.” Jordan said with a wink which made goosebumps appear on your skin.
“You’re going to have to beat me first.”
“In what?”
“In that stupid business exam… results come out tomorrow. If you get a better grade than me you get to take me out on a date, if I get a better grade than you I get to take you out on a date.”
“Seems like a win-win situation either way. I can’t wait.” Jordan brushed their warm fingers across your cheekbone before they sent you one final wink and a smirk before heading off in the direction of the dorms.
“You coming? We do have that marketing exam on Friday…” Jordan called out over their shoulder, their remark made your body instantly heat up. Fuck it. You were in a losing battle with them again, this time the prize was your heart and they were certainly going to win it.
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ahhh jordannnnn
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bloodygirlhood · 6 months
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i posted a photo edit to introduce all my OCs from my Gen V fics and gave info about them! (My demons made me do a cate and an emma fic too 🤭)
https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMjXJWv27/
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freakshowtwopointoh · 1 month
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All Bets Are Off
@pinkcrocss suggested this and i had to
“I don’t think the two of you could be closer to each other unless you were literally in each other's skin.” Andre teased, watching as Marie and Jordan readjusted their limbs once more.
“We’re not trying to get closer, we’re trying to get comfortable. The human body is a burden.” Jordan complained, shifting Marie’s body slightly to a better position.
“The two of you are essentially attached at the hip, I’m surprised your brains and bodies haven’t merged together.” Emma added. “You’re lucky I like you, Jordan. Considering you basically stole my best friend and roommate.” That got her a stuffed turtle thrown at her head. “Hey!”
“We’re not that clingy.” Marie protested, but it was such a boldfaced lie that the entire room burst into laughter, Marie and Jordan included.
“I don’t think you guys could manage a day without contacting each other.” Cate teased. And Jordan knew a challenge when they heard one, especially from Cate. Marie gave them a slight nod and they grinned despite the racing of their heart.
“Wanna bet?” Jordan asked, a smirk playing on their lips. And so, the bet was on. From midnight tonight to midnight next Monday, Marie and Jordan weren’t allowed to contact each other. Eye contact or brief conversation in public is permitted, but no texting or calls, and absolutely no touching. The winner takes everyone out that weekend. 
Marie and Jordan would pretend that it was no big deal, which was how the bet ended up lasting for a full week. The rest of the crew had money on who would cave first.
Place Your Bets Here (Emma, Sam, Cate, Luke, Andre)
jumanji: i dont think jor will make it past day 4
cricket: r u kidding? they wont make it past day 2. trust me, i live with marie. theyre always around
magneto: i think we’re all underestimating jordans stubbornness. i think marie will almost make it, but give in after jor does something reckless and she goes to yell at them
cricket: marie might be willing to die (or kill) for jordan but she’d never willingly lose a bet to them.
fuego: tbh i think they’re both too stubborn to give in but they will make it our problem during this week and after
jumanji: yeah id bet extra money that jor will spend at least one night this week in my dorm
kong: [liked cricket’s message]
kong: [liked cricket’s message]
It would take less than twenty four hours for both Marie and Jordan to begin to feel the struggle. For Jordan, it was like a persistent itch under their skin. They scrolled through her minimal social media constantly, or flipping through their camera roll just to see her perfect, sunshiney smile. It was marginally better when they were in the same room as her, but that tested their discipline in a whole different way. They were acutely aware of her every move. It took everything in them to keep their eyes on the board. Their notes were... non-existent. 
Marie had the opposite problem. Life was boring without Jordan, but she knew boring. She could handle boredom. But being in the same room as them and not speaking to them? Not touching them? She could barely look at them. Their eyes were always on her, piercing through her, so obviously wanting her. How was she supposed to stay away from those eyes? She barely looked at Instagram, and came close to changing her lock screen just to avoid the temptation. 
This was going to be a long week.
By the third day, Jordan had walked up to Marie’s dorm before walking away three times, and nearly called her countless times. They had also snapped five pens and three pencils while attempting to focus. 
Cate opened her door before Jordan even knocked.
“I’m surprised it took you this long. Come in.” She said lightly, a small smile on her lips.
“I’m actually going fucking insane. Like honest-to-god, I swear I hallucinated her voice in the library earlier. What has this girl done to me?” Jordan flopped back on Cate’s bed, ignoring her irritated look. 
“You’re just in love.” She said casually, finishing taking off her makeup as Jordan spoke.
“That’s worse, Cate! Don’t you see how that’s worse? I’m not prepared for this.” Their legs shortened suddenly, leaving their feet dangling off the edge of Cate’s bed as they shifted.
“Jordan Li. Did you think you could plan falling in love?” Cate admonished, looking directly into the eyes of her anxious friend.
“I thought I could plan it a bit easier than this!” They whined.
“Maybe you are insane. Do you schedule your other feelings?” She teased. 
“... Sometimes.” Cate shook her head and chuckled.
“Jor, stop fighting your feelings and feel them.” She said seriously, before deftly changing the subject.
Marie was in even deeper denial than Jordan. She refused to admit to Emma that she was coming close to losing the bet - even when it was painfully obvious.
“Marie. Marie. Maaaaaaaaarie.” Finally, she resorted to throwing a pillow at her head. “Stop daydreaming about Jordan and help me film this video for my class.”
“I don’t daydream. I’m thinking.” She retorted, but she was clearly staring at Jordan’s hoodie, which was draped over a chair.
“Yeah, sure. And I’m a math whiz. Now help me.” Emma teased, grabbing Marie’s arm and dragging her out of the chair. She would have an enjoyable evening helping Emma with her homework, but night came and she dialed Jordan’s number for the millionth time before turning her phone off and trying to sleep.
But as it turned out, no one could have predicted the outcome of this bet - the two lovebirds were so distracted trying not to think about the other that they walked directly into each other outside of Brink’s office. Fumbling over their things, handing books and papers back to each other, their fingers brushed and it was all over.
“Fuck this.” they muttered in unison. Jordan helped Marie up before sliding their hand directly into hers and dragging her back to their dorm.
"I missed you, Moreau." Jordan mumbled against Marie's lips, their hands cupping her face. She hummed contentedly, resting her hand on the nape of their neck and keeping them close to her.
They took their time with each other, relearning every curve and edge of their bodies. Marie's skin was covered in hickies and bite marks, a blossoming masterpiece that Jordan could not get enough of. She was theirs. It was addictive. They just couldn't get enough of each other. And every small gasp or moan Jordan made sent desire coursing through Marie, a reminder of the power she held over them.
But Jordan couldn't be kept from between Marie's legs for much longer. Her body was incredibly responsive, arching into every touch. They needed to taste her again, feel her come entirely undone for them. They let their tongue trace along her inner thighs, feeling their own arousal surge as she moaned softly.
"Jor, please-" She whined as their tongue teased her wet folds. They smirked, sinking their long fingers into the flesh of her ass, pulling her closer.
"Patience, princess." They said huskily, unable to keep from teasing her a little longer. But finally, their tongue brushed against her clit, causing her body to buck into their mouth. A dark, lustful laugh came from Jordan's throat before they dove in, their lips wrapping around her clit.
Jordan could honestly spend their whole life between Marie's legs, making her whimper, moan, and cry just for them, putting their mouth and tongue to work. But when she cums for the third time, that perfect, fucked out look in her eyes, they can't help themselves. They're shifting without thinking, pulling away from her center and pulling out their cock.
"Fuck, Marie, I need to feel that tight cunt wrapped around me, right now." They groaned, pushing her back fully onto the bed before they pushed themself inside of her cunt, still dripping with her most recent orgasm.
They were both screaming each other's names all night long.
They’d both say the other broke the bet first. Their friends were just glad they didn’t have to deal with the couple’s pouting for a full week.
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dropitpunk · 6 months
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how is spending the night with jordan li like?
cw: very suggestive content, fluff, mentions of drinking, jordan li (fem and masc presenting) x gn!reader
jordan enjoys taking you to parties with them just to show you off and then finishing the night with you cuddled up in their arms.
you drank a little and your head was the perfect amount of cloudy, filled with just jordan and loud thoughts about their perfume and their warm breath on your forehead.
jordan's hair tickled your nose when you changed positions and their head found the comfort of your chest, delicate hands embracing your torso and thighs wrapping around yours.
"you get so warm when you drink," jordan whispered, closing their eyes as you rubbed their back lazily. you smiled, you knew jordan lost any reservations when tipsy and so close to you.
jordan lifted their head to get a better look at you, huffing so their hair wouldn't get in the way. you helped putting their hair behind their ears, flushing under jordan's intense stare.
"you okay?" you said a bit awkward, still shy around jordan's big eyes. jordan smiled knowingly, legs moving around until they were sitting on your lap, thighs resting on your hips.
"you're just pretty." they said before a pair of lips was on yours, slow and attentive just how you liked it.
your hands were crossed behind jordan's neck, toying with the pearls on their necklace while their tongue explored your mouth with hunger.
jordan was handsy whenever you two were making out, so it didn't take long for you two feel skilled fingers going down your belly, caressing the skin above the waistband of your sleeping shorts.
you complained when jordan stopped the kiss, their brown eyes glazed over with desire and soft lips red and swollen.
"i'm not going anywhere, stop whining," jordan smiled down at you and leaned in again to kiss your neck, sprinkling wet kisses on your sensitive skin.
you gasped in surprise when jordan turned you over, having to put both hands on their now hard chest to not fall over. delicate hands gave place to callused fingers and rough touch.
short nails scratched the skin of your waist, a hand bringing you by your nape to their lips again.
"wanna feel you wrapped around me," jordan said against your lips, moving their hips against yours so you could feel the bulge growing under you. you whined, nodding frantically.
a lot of nights were like this, agreeing happily to whatever jordan wanted to do with your body, losing yourself in them. they were just as trusting to let you explore them, give jordan as much pleasure as they brought to you.
some nights weren't so good, sometimes jordan would be back at your dorm stressed and angry, frustrated by their parents, by godolkin or by the pressure of being the perfect hero.
you tried to relieve that pressure, and jordan assured they felt better just by being at your presence. you weren't so sure, as you could feel jordan tossing and turning in bed when they thought you were sleeping.
in nights like that, you would try to take their mind off things by telling the story of the new vought+ movie that just came out, or gossiping about students at the university.
you would make them laugh for hours with your dumb jokes, and you went to prepare a cup of tea for them, when you came back they were already asleep.
some nights were just uneventful, though you liked them the most.
you could hold jordan for as much as you like, eat junk food in bed and play videogames until you got tired. jordan was a better player than you, but you were getting there.
jordan would ask you to braid their hair for training the next day, kissing you breathless as a thank you.
they would steal your clothes all the time, smiling innocently when you asked where your favorite hoodie was.
however, when they could sense someone looked at you with more interest than tolerable, you'd be the one wearing their clothes and drowning in their perfume.
when it was summer, sometimes jordan would take off their shirt before sleeping just to tease you, flexing their muscles not so subtly to see you blush, dimples big on their cheeks.
they would hold you closely, firm chest pressing against your back and strong arms holding your waist all night.
it was easy being jordan's partner, loving every part of them was free of worries. it just came natural to you, being close to them. especially at night.
a/n: i'm obsessed with jordan omg
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