#gen v x you

[bumblesimagines]

The Torment of Loving

Request: Yes or No

Summary: Jordan's broken the first and most fundamental rule of becoming friends with benefits with someone: falling in love. Now, they have to deal with the consequences.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: Typical Gen V warnings, mentions of disapproving parents, drug usage, sexual content, Jordan pls get a therapist jordan pls, falling for the fwb trope, implied unrequited feelings

~~~

There was nothing Jordan Li hated more than not having control over their feelings. 

It reminded them all too well of the trapped, suffocating feeling of being around their scrutinizing parents. They loved them, just as long as they remained in the body they'd come out of the womb in and just as long as they remained pitch fucking perfect. Their grades, their clothes, their popularity, anyone they showed a smidge of interest in. It all had to be perfect for their parents otherwise they'd spew a big lecture that'd sucker punch the air out of their lungs and make tears spring to their eyes when they listened to the disappointment dripping off their sugar-coated tones.

So, when that suffocating feeling reared its head again and slithered around Jordan's chest, constricting their heart and making their blood buzz, they despised the reason for it. They despised the out-of-control sense that filled their head and the fact the cause of their newfound troubles wasn't over their parents or losing points or getting a bad grade on an assignment. It'd been over a goddamn guy. 

A guy who, more often than not, had them listening to his every word as if he were a preacher speaking to the most loyal devotee; a guy who could make their heat warm and ears dust with soft pink despite the playful scowl on their lips; a guy who could make heat shoot right to their gut and make them weak at the knees with just a few teasing words. Jordan found it embarrassing. Andre and Luke enjoyed teasing them over their frat boy-like tendencies, and yet there they were, acting like a little high schooler with their first boyfriend; and they weren't even a couple.

(Y/N)'s half-lidded eyes skimmed the label on one of Jordan's foundation bottles, the blunt they'd been exchanging hanging loosely from his lips and filling the air with the smell of weed. Jordan watched him from their spot on the bed, limbs sprawled out and head resting back on one of the soft pillows.

"Bet you don't even use all this shit." (Y/N) murmured, tugging the blunt from his lips and exhaling the smoke into the already semi-clouded room. For whatever safety concern the school deemed necessary, the large windows in each dorm were permanently sealed shut, forcing them to either keep the door cracked open and risk a staff member catching them or deal with the smoke until the vents took care of it. 

Jordan merely hummed, more focused on how (Y/N)'s sweatpants hung from his hips, only needing a careful tug to slump down his legs. Their lips slowly curved into a lazy grin at the knowledge, their eyes dragging back up until they found his face once more. The glass of the bottle clacked with the desk of their vanity when (Y/N) set it down, his legs bringing him back toward Jordan to offer them the last hit and head finally turning toward him. 

Out of instinct, Jordan morphed into their femme form and sat up in their bed, the shirt and briefs they'd been wearing feeling slightly baggier against their body. They wrapped their lips around the blunt, dark eyes ensuring to hold eye contact with him as they inhaled deeply. (Y/N) chuckled and shook his head, setting the blunt aside on the cigarette tray on the nightstand. Jordan exhaled the smoke, the buzz in their head making them hyperaware of almost everything; from the way the sheets rubbed against their skin to the subtle yet audible beat of (Y/N)'s heart. 

"You're a pain, Jordan." (Y/N) said with a soft sigh, tone teasing yet with a hint of exasperation. "You've had an attitude all day and then practically drag me in here the minute school ends." 

Jordan shrugged, unable to find an excuse for their hot and cold behavior. They'd woken up tired from a night of tossing and turning whilst they'd argued with themselves about their feelings toward him. By the time the sun rose, they'd finally come to terms with the fact they were indeed agonizingly head over heels for a fuckbuddy. Their irritation from lack of sleep and bubbling anticipation mixed with jealousy when (Y/N) chose to sit beside another classmate instead of them, only intensifying when Jordan watched them flirt the whole damn class. They couldn't help it; lashing out was their biggest defense mechanism, and apologizing never came easy to them. 

"You like my attitude." Jordan grinned and slumped back into the pillows, their hand raising and fingers wiggling to beckon him closer. (Y/N) rolled his eyes, his knee digging into the mattress and making it creak softly as he reached back to slip off his shoe. He did similarly with the other before carefully toppling on top of Jordan, forcing their knees apart. (Y/N) released a low noise, his head tucking itself into the space between their neck and shoulder. 

A twinge of longing struck Jordan, their eyes raising to stare at the ceiling above them. Relationships had always been shaky ground for them, a thin tightrope with a long drop into heartache below. They'd suffered plenty of rejection from their parents, especially their father who always hoped his 'son' would return to him. It was ironic, in a way, how much everyone longed for their masc form but they only hooked up with (Y/N) in their femme form. It was automatic for them, really. Guys preferred her and girls preferred him, but no one ever wanted both. Besides, the only time they'd ever seen (Y/N) show interest in a guy had been during a dumb drunk game of spin the bottle where he and Luke had aggressively made out to the amusement of everyone, including Cate. 

"Your heart's beating really fast, J." (Y/N) yawned, breath fanning against Jordan's neck and making the hair on their body rise with goosebumps that quickly followed. He lifted his head, the lazy smirk on his face a signature look of his that Jordan had grown to look forward to each day, even if it meant rolling their eyes excessively at it.

"Yeah, 'cause-" 

Jordan sighed blissfully (something that made their cheeks warm with embarrassment) when (Y/N) cut off their snarky response with a kiss. Slow, and lazy, the sort of kisses that'd typically have Jordan scoffing and wanting something quicker. Kissing was intimate; the quicker and rougher, the less room there was to allow anything other than the feeling of desire to form. That ship had long sailed for them, though. (Y/N) gently dug his teeth into Jordan's bottom lip, his fingertips slipping beneath the gray tank top and slowly sliding around their stomach. 

"Tease," Jordan hissed, pulling their lip free when a trickle of saliva threatened to slip from the corner of their mouth. (Y/N) only chuckled in return, his wrists forcing the hem of the shirt upward until the shirt was bundled right above their newly exposed tits. The smirk returned and his head lolled to the side as his fingers massaged the underside of their breasts. Their chest began rising and falling with rapid, expectant breathing. "You're suck a dick, (L/N)." 

"It's fun watching the all-mighty Jordan squirm." He answered with a teasing coo, and the thought of shifting crossed their mind but they quickly shoved the urge away.

They enjoyed a good wrestle with (Y/N) before anything sexual began, and as much as they liked the idea of having some sort of upper hand during, they simply couldn't risk making him uncomfortable. Being rejected when their heart skipped every time they locked eyes simply couldn't happen. The very idea of it made their heart lurch and throat tighten with unease. 

Before their thoughts could drag them out of the fun, they huffed at him, "Come on," They groaned half-heartedly, as if the way their hips rolled came from anything else other than the kneading and massaging. "Get on with it al-"

A sharp, hissed curse escaped them, head digging back into the black pillow case as their mouth fell open at the combined sensation of (Y/N) latching onto one of their hardened buds while simultaneously grinding against them, the fabric of the briefs pressing against their heat and leaving a wet patch behind. Jordan's blunt nails dug into the back of his shirt, fingers curling and threatening to shred the shirt at the feeling of his hot tongue swirling around their nipple, a strangled whine falling from their lips when he dragged his teeth over it before swiftly switching to give the other attention. 

"Jesus," Jordan exhaled, cheeks ablaze and hazy mind struggling to focus on not losing their grip and accidentally shifting. They'd always been used to being the one making others squirm and flush prettily but they hardly minded giving up some control and allowing themselves to act like a pillow princess. 

(Y/N) released them with a soft pop and drew back to admire Jordan's heaving, saliva-covered chest with a satisfied grin. He grasped the collar of his shirt and tugged it off, giving it a brief check over any tears. "I still can't believe you tore my shirt, J." He muttered with a light huff and Jordan giggled at the memory. 

"I bought you a new one, you fucking crybaby." 

(Y/N) rolled his eyes and tossed the shirt aside blindly, leaning down to press a kiss between their chest before littering kisses down to their abdomen and below their belly button. Jordan raised their hips when he tugged at the waistband of the briefs, their face no doubt flushed red as he peeled the briefs down their legs and arched a brow at the evident wet spot. Jordan lightly kicked his thigh when he snickered, their eyes automatically rolling. 

"Not that I'm complaining," (Y/N) started, letting the briefs fall on the floor. He dragged his palm along their inner thigh, pausing inches away from where Jordan wanted- no, needed him the most. Jordan's lip jutted out to form an annoyed pout. "How come you never want to fuck when you're a dude?" He tilted his head.

"W-What?" Jordan exhaled shakily, eyes wide and head jerking to look at him so quick it almost gave them neck pain. They scrambled to prop themselves up on their elbows, a thousand questions and words running through their hazy head but their mouth refused to form any coherent sentences. "I- I- I thought you- that you didn't like guys?" 

(Y/N) stared at them blankly. "Jordan."

"You- You never- How was I supposed to know?!" A long groan of disappointment left their throat when (Y/N) pulled his hand back, the look on his face practically calling them the biggest dumbass alive. Delight curled around their gut and they pursed their lips, shifting into their masc form and studying the indifference on his face. 

"You know how many times I've slept with Luke and Cate? Or Andre?" 

"You've what?" Jordan's brows knitted, more out of furious jealousy over confusion. They shot upright, their hand clamping around the nape of (Y/N)'s neck and fingers digging into his skin. "Why- I thought I was-" Jordan scowled. "Why the fuck do you need them when you have me?" 

"Well, I can't exactly do some Eiffel Tower shit with just you, can I?" (Y/N) grinned cheekily, and it suddenly made sense why Luke and Cate had always been incredibly chill about the other kissing and cozying up to (Y/N). Jordan chalked it up to them being secure enough in their relationship to not care but the new knowledge abruptly made them question every innocent interaction between him and their friends.

"(Y/N)- fuck."

The high-pitched whimper that left them was downright humiliating, eyes squeezing shut and forehead dropping onto his shoulder when (Y/N) wrapped his hand around their leaking length and gave it a light squeeze. Jordan grunted, teeth digging into their lip almost hard enough to draw blood before (Y/N) pushed their shoulder and forced them onto their back once more. Jordan's heels dug into the mattress, and (Y/N) barely had to do any work as Jordan began rutting up into his hand, movements clumsy and increasingly desperate. 

"Thought you were smarter than that, J." (Y/N)'s tone dripped with amusement and Jordan's second scowl proved incredibly short-lived when (Y/N) swooped down to press their lips together in a needy, lip-bruising kiss. Jordan tore away, their back and neck arching at another squeeze, the pad of (Y/N)'s thumb pressing along a vein and forcing incoherent babbling out of the supe. 

With their neck bare and inviting, (Y/N) leaned down to suckle bruises into their skin, teeth sinking until they left imprints that left Jordan's mind woozy and jumbled. Between the desperation in chasing their release and the sensation of (Y/N) marking their neck, it only took (Y/N) leaning down even further and giving their still slick chest some more attention for Jordan's movements to turn sloppy. (Y/N) grinned against his skin, moving his hand at an unrelenting pace even as Jordan covered their stomach and chest in sticky release. 

"I love you," Jordan whined between babbles and noises, the words barely registering until they were a panting, almost teary-eyed mess staring up at him. (Y/N) retracted his hand, smearing the mess Jordan had left behind along their chest until his hand was mostly clean. They flushed at the way their length twitched at the action, the energy they lost returning faster than the average supe's due to their abilities in masc form. 

"I'm hungry." (Y/N) sighed, and Jordan found themselves both thankful and dejected he'd ignored the confession. He disappeared from on top of them, reappearing by the drawer and taking out a rag, cleaning his hand first before teleporting to the bed and cleaning the mess off Jordan. "Let's get Vought-A-Burger, and then we'll see how much you can take in this form, J." 

[psychostxr]

𝐣𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐢 | worth

PAIRING. jordan li x female! reader

WORD COUNT. 1.1k

WARNINGS. angst, cursing, homphobia, insecurities, racism (some are very brief)

NOTES. inspired by @maraschino-ch3rry post about jordan not being marketable

KEYS. (y/n) - your name e.g. paige, sam, etc. (l/n) - last name e.g. cole, thomas, etc.

Fairy lights and flowers decorate the foyer of Godolkin's Student Union as the night of Brink's Memorial Gala unfolds. Your satin dress flows elegantly, hugging and highlighting your figure with a refined slit. Champagne glasses twinkle as they float by on silver trays, a luxury you can't resist. Grabbing a glass of champagne, you take a small sip.

Your eyes wander, tracing the guests who have gathered for the occasion. The guests, staff members, trustees, benefactors, and a few students invited or could afford to buy tickets are here to 'support' Godolkin University. As for you, you're here to support your partner, Jordan, and find trustees willing to vote for them.

When you finally spot Jordan entering the foyer, your heart pounds against your ribcage at the sight of them. Jordan looks hot in their black suit, and the half-pearl half-chain necklace adds to their charm. However, Jordan's expression doesn't match the mood of the event. They're frowning.

You wonder why until you see their parents trailing right after them. Downing the rest of the champagne, you place the glass on a nearby waiter's tray and scurry over to Jordan, careful not to trip over your heels or dress.

"Jordan!" You grin, pulling them into a hug. Their arms wrap around your waist as your lips kiss their cheek before grazing their ear to whisper, "Stop frowning. You're too attractive in that suit to be sad."

Jordan chuckles, a smile cracking across their face. "Thank you," they murmur, kissing your cheek in return. 

Jordan takes a step back, revealing his parents behind them. You plaster on a fake smile towards Jordan's parents.

"(y/n), meet my parents, Paul, and Kayla Li. Dad, mom, this is (y/n)." Jordan pauses, gulping. "My girlfriend."

"Hi, it's so nice to meet you, Mr and Mrs Li," you say, offering your hand to shake.

Jordan's parents glance at each other, almost like they're communicating telepathically. Then, both of their lips quirked upwards. Paul chuckles, reaching out and eagerly shaking your hand.

"You have a girlfriend?" he questions, "Why didn't you tell us?"

Before Jordan can come up with an answer, you interrupt, "I'm sorry, that was my idea." You pull your hand away and rest it on your décolletage. "I didn't want Jordan to tell anyone. I'm a very private person."

"That's okay, dear," Kayla reassures. "We're just happy that Jordan's found someone is all."

"Well, it was nice meeting you both," you say, catching Jordan's parents' attention, "But Jordan and I have duties to attend to tonight." Like schmoozing trustees and securing votes for Jordan. "I hope to see you again soon."

Hooking an arm around Jordan's, you guide them away from their parents and towards the influential guests at tonight's gala.

"Private person, my ass," Jordan remarks once you both are far away from their parents. "One search of you on Instagram and pictures of me flood the app."

"You love it," you quip, unhooking your arm to hold Jordan's hand. "People know we're together, so they can't try shit when you're not around. Unless they want to get their ass kicked."

"You can't blame me. I don't like to share."

Rolling your eyes, you stop in your tracks, causing Jordan to halt.

"Earlier, before you arrived, I was scouring the guests, and I think a few people here would vote for you with enough persuasion. We just need to show them the marketable side of you." You gesture to a man nearby drinking champagne. "That's Daniel Travis, one of the trustees for Godolkin. We can start with him and work our way with the others."

Pulling Jordan, you walk towards Daniel Travis and put a smile on your face. "Mr Travis, I'm (y/n) (l/n), and this is my partner, Jordan Li. Could you spare a few minutes to talk with us?"

He lowers his glass. "Of course. What would you two like to talk about?"

"Well, as we know, trustees decide the rankings. And during the incident with Golden Boy, Jordan went down in rankings. We wondering if you'd like to vote for Jordan," you explain.

"I don't like to ring my own bell, but I am putting up the best stats of anyone here in forensics and combat," Jordan adds, "And to be honest, I'd love your vote."

"I've looked at your Q Rating, Name Recognition, and Social Trending, Jordan. They're down, and it's no secret," Daniel states bluntly, "Frankly, being bi-gender and Asian won't appeal to certain audiences in America, so, in terms of marketability, you're not in the best position."

Jordan's face falls at Daniel's harsh assessment. It's a tough pill to swallow. Daniel shifts his attention to you.

"But you (y/n)?" he says, "Your ratings are through the roof, and your control over your powers is remarkable! You're a marketable asset. But, you see, you could achieve even more if you broke up with Jordan."

The suggestion hangs in the air, a poisonous idea souring the elegance of the gala. Jordan feels a surge of anger and frustration at Daniel's audacity while you're shocked by his proposal.

You squeeze Jordan's hand, hoping to give them peace of mind while you resist the urge to use your powers and toss Daniel into a wall. Your eyes flash with a mix of anger and disgust.

"You must be out of your mind to think I'd ever let someone like you dictate my relationship," you retort sharply, "Now if you have nothing important to say, we're leaving."

With that, you lead Jordan away from the conversation, finding a quiet corner of the gala to catch your and Jordan's breath and collect your thoughts.

You knew that success could come at a cost, but compromising your relationship with Jordan wasn't a price you were willing to pay. Wrapping your arms around Jordan, you pull them into your embrace and kiss their temple. 

"Jordan, I'm so fucking sorry," you apologize softly, "I should've dug for more information on Godolkin's trustees before making any moves. I didn't expect that from Daniel."

Jordan sighs, resting their head on your shoulder. "It's not your fault, (y/n). But Daniel's got a point. My numbers are down. Nobody wants to see a bi-gender Asian Supe. Your numbers would be higher if we weren't together."

You shake your head, holding them tighter. "Jordan, don't listen to him. I love you with every fiber of my being. No marketing scheme or student ranking is worth more than my love for you. I don't care about the numbers. I care about you." You tilt their chin up, looking deeply into their eyes. "You are more than any label or statistic. I love you for who you are. Don't let anyone make you question your worth or our love. Because if anyone thinks otherwise, they can fuck off."

© psychostxr — all rights reserved. please do not repost, copy, translate, or claim any of my works as your own.

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+

JORDAN LI fucking loves it when you sit on their face. Something about yanking you down when you hover, using strong arms to strap over your thighs and lock you in place, gets their fucking cock hard and their pussy wet. She’ll start out licking you out, tracing your folds deliberate and slow. Dip her tongue in between, scooping through the slit, and let the tip of her nose nuzzle your clit. “You like that, baby?” she muses, and plants a loving kiss against your sensitive tissue.

You hum your approval, and she starts getting more intense with it, drawing you down as she raises her head, burying her face in your cunt. Out of instinct, you lift off, and suddenly he’s yanking you right back down. That extra strength makes sure you’re not going anywhere, making you whine and cry while he plunges his tongue in your hole and rifles around. Only to toy and suck on your clit until you grind down on his face asking for more. “Don’t run away from me. You think I want you to hold back?” he murmurs, punctuating it with another kiss this time to your clit. You jump and swallow, your mouth dried from your gaping gasps and moans.

“Jordan,” you whine, “I’m scared.” Your grip on his headboard tightens, and he flattens his tongue against you from stern to bow, flicking his tip against your clit. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, letting out a sigh you didn’t realize you were holding as you relax into his tongue swiping side to side against your bud.

He answers your ridiculous statement and your obvious ask for more by grabbing your hips, and guiding you to rock. Back and forth, he forces you to grind down on him, washing his face with your fluids mixed with his saliva, using it and all its delicious ridges. “Oh. Oh,” you breathe, getting swept away in that current. Slowly, you relinquish control, you fully seat, and hands a little smaller than before squeeze your hips twice to let you know you did good.

Mindless, hazy-with-rapture hums expel from her lips, greedily lapping you with the help of the new pressure. “That’s it, baby, mhm, just like that,” she praises, muffled by your flesh.

[inklore]

• “if you keep looking at me like that, i'm not responsible for what happens next." For Jordan (genV)

KEEP FOCUSED.

pairing: jordan li x (f)reader

contents: established relationship, insinuated-ish smut, you can imagine whichever presenting gender but i had their fem form in mind | wc: 703

The plan was to study. 

“Strength isn’t the only thing you need; you need intelligence. Knowledge.” Brink had said. Had made it more than clear that rankings got you somewhere, but for those who didn’t make it to the seven, passing a test was dire. 

Hence, studying was important.

Even if one of you ended up watching over some city, you couldn’t do that with powers alone. Not all the time. 

No matter how much you hated studying, no matter how many times the two of you vouched to study, that’s all, and it heading south within the first hour. 

The two of you had made it two hours now, passing index cards back and forth to write, cross stuff out, add things, and prepare to quiz each other later. It was a new record, really.

For how long neither of you made a move. 

With the restraint you showed each time their fingers brushed against yours when passing the cards to and fro. It was a superpower in its own how you’d strained your eyes to focus on the book in your lap and the laptop at your hip resting on their bed, where the two of you were perched. 

Your bottom lip indented by your teeth, showing how hard restraint was. How your top teeth sunk into the flesh of your lip every time you looked up from your textbook to stare at them. To watch them twiddle the pen in their fingers or press the nail of their thumb against their mouth in deep thought.

And that fucking gray shirt. The shirt that had no sleeves, no sides. The one that gave you the perfect view of their chest when they turned and leaned over the bed to grab their drink off their nightstand. 

The hard swallow that physically ached your throat from stopping yourself from tossing your books to the side, climbing on top of them, and pressing your mouth to the flesh peeking out of it.

You wonder if they wore it on purpose. As a tease. To distract you from the task at hand, a little jest they could poke at you later when one of you passed the test and the other just barely made it.

It makes you want them more. 

“If you keep looking at me like that, I'm not responsible for what happens next." 

Their voice cuts through the cloud of arousal fogging up your brain, your eyes sweeping up to their smirking face. 

“You mean you’re not responsible for my failing grade? Don’t think Brink will understand that I couldn’t study because I was too busy thinking about making you come?”

You can see the weight of their swallow, the glint of fire in their eyes when they let out a breathy chuckle and lock eyes with you. 

“Get a passing grade, and I’ll let you make me come as much as you want.” They retort, amusement on their face. 

You can’t help your own look of amusement—a smirk pulling the corners of your lips—as you put the index cards into the spine of the book to hold your place when you close it and push it off your lap to do the same with the book in theirs. Your palms pressed into the mattress between their slightly parted legs, putting your face inches from theirs as you lean into their space. 

“We both know I suck at tests,” you let your fingers walk slowly up their thigh, elation shooting through you when you see their body lean more into your touch on instinct. “But I’m very good at making you come. So, maybe we should just stick with what I’m good at.” 

And when you press your mouth to theirs, leaving a trail of kisses and bites to their neck, all ideas of studying are out the window, and their back is pressed back against the pillows, pulling you on top of them. 

“If you fail this test, I’m not letting you put your mouth on me for a week,” they say into your mouth. A gasp followed behind it as your hand moves to the part of their body that’s begging for you. “A couple days at least,” they moan.

[j-k-writes]

Doomsday

Summary - (Y/N) just wants to spend his senior year with his head kept down and his best friend at his side. But like always, his wants mean nothing in the grand scheme of things, and not even a week into his second to last semester things come crashing down.

Warnings - General Gen V warnings, heavy drug use, blood and violence, child abuse (mostly just implied and discussed nothing graphic), canon character death(s), suicide, murder

12 Years Ago 

His joints screamed at him as he scaled his way up the side of the house, his cut-up hands leaving behind crimson stains on the light brick as he went. He’d slipped halfway up; the resulting near-fall had left his left knee skinned and his jeans ruined, but he just ignored it and continued to climb. He was out of breath by the time he managed to crawl the already open window of his best friend’s room, and he’d been crying since his back door slammed behind him on his way out of the house, leaving him a panting, sobbing mess. 

He didn’t bother turning around before he began his rant, wiping harshly at the tears rolling down his cheeks, “I can’t live with them anymore- they’re- they’re the worst! My dad threw a bible at-” 

He turned around and stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of a stranger standing in Luke’s room, the boy himself nowhere to be found. His hackles were immediately raised at the sight of the man. Especially because he could feel the all too familiar tingle under his skin that meant his skinned knee was knitting itself back together, he took note that it started quicker this time and pinned the observation away for later. 

The man raised an eyebrow at him, smiling softly to himself as he took in (Y/N)’s appearance. “Hello.” 

“Where’s Luke?” (Y/N) frowned, and the man laughed, which only caused (Y/N)’s frown to deepen. Speak of the devil, and he shall appear, (Y/N) thought as Luke burst into the room. Whatever the pre-teen was about to say died on the tip of his tongue at (Y/N)’s appearance, and his face flushed with anger or embarrassment; (Y/N) couldn’t tell. 

“Again?” Ah, anger then. (Y/N) nodded, looking down at the floor. “What happened this time?” 

(Y/N) shrugged, “‘s not that big of a deal. I can come back later.” 

Luke shook his head, pushing past the mysterious man, “And go back?” 

Again (Y/N) shrugged. 

“I’ll ask my parents if you can stay over,” Luke said, lowering his voice as if he just remembered they were in the presence of company. “You know if you just let me tell them they could-” 

“No.” Luke just sighed at his friend’s stubbornness, turning around- probably to go find his parents- and stopped at the sight of the man. “Oh. Sorry, (Y/N), this is Professor Brink.” 

“Nice to meet you.” (Y/N) said before his father’s nagging voice entered his head, and he added a “Sir.” 

Professor Brink looked amused at the boy and turned to Luke. “Do you mind if I talk to- (Y/N) was it?” (Y/N) nodded, and Brink smiled. “Do you mind if I talked to (Y/N) for a moment, Luke?” 

“Uh- yeah sure.” Luke made a hasty exit leaving (Y/N) alone with the strange professor. Brink motioned for him to sit and after a few seconds of deliberation, (Y/N) took a seat on the edge of Luke’s bed, eyeing the man up warily. 

“You’re a supe.” It wasn’t a question. 

“Yes.” 

“What can you do?” 

“What’s it matter to you?” (Y/N) snapped, clenching his fists at his side. He tensed as soon as the words escaped his mouth, but the man simply laughed. 

“I’m a professor at Godolkin University.” Brink said. “Do you know what that is?” 

“I’m not dumb.” Again the man laughed. 

“I never said you were, in fact, I can tell you’re quite bright. Am I right?” (Y/N) just shrugged. “How long have you had your powers, (Y/N)?” 

“A couple months” 

“And how old are you?” 

“Nine.” 

“Same age as Luke then.” (Y/N) nodded, and Brink seemed pleased with his answer. “I am going to tell you why I’m here, and then after you’re going to tell me why you are. Got it?” 

“Fine.” 

“I’m here because your friend Luke is going to be bigger than Homelander,” Brink said, and (Y/N)'s eyes widened at the statement. His Luke, his Luke who couldn’t sit on furniture for too long unless you preferred your chairs charred and blackened, bigger than Homelander? No shot. “Now, you haven’t told me what you can do yet, kid, but based on the little show I just got-” (Y/N) flushed. “-I can take a pretty good guess.” 

“It’s nothing special.” (Y/N) mumbled, Brink’s gaze made him squirm in his seat. “I can just heal, and they- they uh say I’m pretty smart, but I don’t know- it’s lame.” 

“Nonsense,” Brink said, and (Y/N) took a proper look at the man for the first time since climbing in through the window. “Luke has told me a lot about you, (Y/N).” 

“He has?” 

“Oh yes.” Brink’s smile widened. “In fact I think you two can become quite the team. What do you think?” 

Present Day

(Y/N) jolted upright as the ice-cold water came crashing down on him, the momentum of his body causing him to tumble out of bed, hitting the floor with a loud crash. He groaned as his face smashed into the floor, feeling the bones of his nose crack and reset just as quickly as the man above him laughed. 

“What do you want?” (Y/N) said, picking himself off the floor. He stripped, throwing the now wet clothes across the room. 

“I have training.” 

“Exactly-” (Y/N) said as he pulled a fresh shirt over his head. “-you have training.” 

“You said you’d come watch.” Luke picked a pair of jeans off the floor and tossed them at him. 

(Y/N) laughed at the pout on his friend’s face, catching the jeans easily and sliding them on. “When?” 

“A few days ago?” Luke said, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t remember?” 

(Y/N) shrugged, picking a hoodie up off the ground, and Luke only frowned. He watched as Luke walked over to his desk, taking a look at the clutter of substances from the night before that (Y/N) had no doubt forgotten to put away before crashing into bed. Luke ran his finger in a line down the desk, and when he pulled away, his fingertip was dusted white. 

“As if you’re one to talk, Riordan.” (Y/N) snapped, hackles rising before Luke could even open his mouth to speak. 

“Hey, I didn’t say anything.” Luke brushed his finger off, walking over toward (Y/N). He grabbed (Y/N)'s face, forcing the young adult to look him in the eyes as he spoke. His eyes flicked up and down (Y/N)'s face as if studying him and (Y/N) couldn’t help but flush under his gaze. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing.” 

Luke’s grip tightened, “Don’t lie to me.” 

“Just some bad dream ‘s all.” (Y/N) said, and Luke relaxed. “Now come on, we’re gonna be late.” 

“And whose fault is that?” Luke laughed, swinging his arm over (Y/N)'s shoulders and pulling him in close as they exited the room. 

(Y/N) put his hood up, drawing the strings tight as soon as they stepped outside. He was vaguely aware of Luke’s snide comment about his reclusive nature, but the loud sound of the people around them drowned him out. (Y/N) cringed and stepped away as people came up to take selfies and chat with Luke, but Luke held on tight to his shoulders the entire walk to the gym as if he was scared (Y/N) was going to disappear if he let go for even a second. (Y/N) wanted to smile at the gesture, but the tight grip on his shoulder began to hurt the further they walked. When (Y/N) lit a cigarette, and Luke didn’t pause once to make a sarcastic comment about his self-healing lungs, (Y/N) stopped in his tracks. 

“What’s wrong?” Luke looked startled by (Y/N)'s question, taking in their surroundings before speaking. 

“Nothing.” (Y/N) scoffed, and Luke immediately crumbled. “Just a nightmare. I’ll tell you later.” 

(Y/N)'s brows furrowed, but he accepted the explanation in stride. Mimicking Luke’s gesture from earlier (Y/N) wrapped his arm around Luke’s neck, smiling to himself when it forced a laugh from the brunette's mouth. They walked the rest of the way like that, arms thrown over each other and laughing. 

(Y/N)'s smile fell as they entered the gym, and Luke adjusted his stance to cover his friend from the prying eyes of their audience. 

“Just ignore them,” Luke whispered, moving closer to (Y/N) to be heard over the crowd. And (Y/N) stepped out from under his arm when he felt Luke’s lip graze his ear. Luke frowned at the action, chalking up (Y/N)'s sudden nervousness to the crowd around them, “Hey, they’re just a little rowdy. Nothing to worry about.” 

“I’m fine.” (Y/N) gave him his best attempt at a smile. “They’re just loud and I’m hungover.” 

(Y/N) couldn't tell if Luke believed him as his best friend’s eyes fell on a figure behind him and his face lit up. (Y/N) turned to see what Luke was looking at, and as soon as his eyes fell on the blonde he froze. 

Luke made his way over to Cate, grinning from ear to ear, and (Y/N) took a step back, hoping to fade into the crowd surrounding them. He wrinkled his nose as the two kissed, a bit too obscene for PDA, in (Y/N)'s opinion, but before he could voice his thoughts on it, he felt an arm make its way around his shoulder, and he jumped. 

Andre laughed at (Y/N)'s reaction, causing (Y/N) to shove him off. “Dickhead.” 

“Shocked to see you here,” Andre said, “I was betting on you bailing.” 

“Didn’t even get the chance.” (Y/N) sighed, and Andre laughed. 

“Alright tongue in your head, head in the game. Yes, you.” Andre approached Luke and Cate, who were still swapping spit. “Thank you, and thank you.” 

“Uh, dude, I am not sweating The Incredible Steve.” Luke said as he approached Andre and (Y/N), throwing his arms around both of them. “Or anyone that has ‘The’ in their name.” 

“I hope not. I got ten grand on you.” Andre said, and (Y/N) snorted softly. 

“Alright, well, we’ll split it fifty-fifty, huh?” Luke said. “Or else I throw the match.” 

Andre froze, before laughing when he realized Luke was joking. “Fuck you. Asshole. Kick his ass.” 

“Loveable asshole.” Luke said as he approached the man waiting for him on the other side of the mat, and Andre and (Y/N) took a step back. 

(Y/N) tried to pay attention to the fight, but the noise of the crowd, the brightness of the sun, and Andre’s odd glances in his direction distracted him throughout. He spent most of the fight squinting at the ground and feeling the beginnings of a migraine. A robe was thrust into his hands as the crowd began to chant his best friend’s name, and (Y/N) finally looked up. 

Luke walked over to them, completely starker, and (Y/N) practically threw the robe at him. He got a small thank you for his troubles before Luke and Andre walked toward where Steve was laid out on the ground sans arms. Luke and Andre reattached Steve’s arms before helping him up. With a pat on the shoulder, Luke sent the man on his way and made his way back over to where (Y/N) was standing with Cate. 

“Lunch?”

(Y/N) hummed, rolling over in search of the sudden warmth that filled his bed. He wrapped his arms around the body, smiling softly to himself at the laugh he felt vibrating through their body. It took him about fifty seconds to remember that he went to bed alone last night and that there shouldn’t be another person in his bed, and when his brain processed the thought, he shot upright. 

His face burned as Luke doubled over, laughing at (Y/N)'s flustered sputtering. 

“I didn’t know you were a cuddler,” Luke said, and (Y/N) flopped back down on his bed with a groan. He grabbed the covers to cover his face, but Luke caught the other end. (Y/N) tugged at his end, but Luke simply tugged once and (Y/N)’s grip broke. 

“Fuck off.” (Y/N) turned over, hiding his face in his pillow. 

“Come on,” Luke threw himself over (Y/N), who grunted at the new weight on top of him. “I have something to tell you.” 

“Tell me then.” (Y/N) said, his words muffled by his pillow. “But ‘m not moving.” 

Luke laughed, his breath hitting (Y/N)’s ear and causing gooseflesh to run down his neck. “If you weren’t so lazy you could have beaten me out of my number one spot years ago.” 

“‘M not lazy.” (Y/N) said, “And I doubt that.” 

“Well,” (Y/N) could feel his smile against his neck as Luke spoke. “It’s a good thing you didn’t.” 

“Why’s that?” 

“Because you’re about to be best friends with a member of The Seven.” 

At that, (Y/N) turned over, confused. Luke adjusted his position on top of (Y/N) as the boy turned over onto his back, falling off to lie next to him, his head propped up on his hand. “What the fuck are you talking about?” 

Luke just continued to smile at (Y/N), and slowly but surely, the pieces began to connect in the boy’s mind. “You’re going to The Seven?” 

Luke nodded. 

“When?” 

“Straight after graduation.” 

“Holy shit.” 

“I know.” 

“Holy shit, congrats.” (Y/N) threw himself at Luke, wrapping him up in a tight hug and causing his best friend to laugh. He pulled back, “That’s amazing, I mean, this is everything you’ve ever wanted.”

At that, Luke’s smile dimmed. Just for a second before it was back in full force, and Luke agreed with him, but it was enough for (Y/N) to notice and frown. Luke noticed his frown and paused, “What?” 

“You’re not happy.” (Y/N) said. 

Luke froze, “What? Of course I’m happy. Like you said, this is everything I’ve ever wanted.” 

“Yeah, but-” (Y/N) paused, he took in Luke’s agitated stance and decided against finishing his thought. He had months to pick apart Luke’s insecurities and inner workings before he was fully committed to The Seven, so he put the conversation in the back of his mind for another day. “Never mind, I’m being stupid. Do the others know?” 

“No.” Luke smiled again. “Just you, me, and Brink.” 

“When are you going to tell them?” 

Luke shrugged, “I don’t know yet. Probably tonight- we’re going out, and you’re coming, by the way.” (Y/N) groaned at the idea, and Luke lightly swatted his shoulder. “I mean it, no excuses this time.” 

“I have work from Brink.” (Y/N) started, and Luke scoffed. “I mean it! I do!” 

“Well, finish it quick,” Luke said, rolling over and off the bed. “You’re coming out with us tonight, no matter what.” 

(Y/N) opened his mouth to argue again, but Luke cut him off. “I never see you anymore man. I miss you.” 

Like a house of cards, (Y/N) immediately folded at Luke’s words. He nodded, already planning his day in his head so that he could finish Brink’s assignment before leaving for the night, and the way Luke’s face lit up as he exited the room made the extra stress worth it.

(Y/N) groaned as the wind blew his lighter out again, and he huddled further in on himself, cupping the flame as he desperately tried to get his cigarette lit. Two new hands cupped the flame, and (Y/N) looked up, making eye contact with Jordan. He gave them a nod of thanks when the flame caught on the end of his cigarette. Jordan walked away from him after that, back to where Andre was talking about some freshman he’d invited to come out with them. 

(Y/N) had learned to tune the metal-controlling boy out within weeks of meeting him, so his words were going in one ear and out the other. (Y/N) didn’t care much about what poor girl Andre was trying to pick up this time, he didn’t care much about any of the people Andre, Jordan, or Cate brought along with them, in fact. He was only here for Luke. 

He watched the four supes pass the flask back and forth, laughing to themselves as they did. These were Luke’s friends, not his. They were on the same path as Luke, on their way to being big shot supes for Vought. (Y/N) was on his way to an early death or spending the rest of his life as a recluse on the edge of society, either one was fine with him. There was no love lost between him and Vought. He was content with being Luke’s childhood best friend who got dragged along because he knew realistically, one day soon, he wouldn’t even be that. 

“Oh! Told you.” The sound of Andre’s voice (Y/N) diverted his full attention to the people around him. “This is Marie. She’s the one that I was telling you guys about.” 

“Hey. I’m Luke.” Luke approached the girl. “Uh, this is Cate.” 

“I know who you are.” (Y/N) almost laughed at the starstruck look on the girl’s face. Her eyes drifted from Luke to Cate and then shockingly to (Y/N). “I know every- nice to meet you.” 

“Uh, that’s (Y/N),” Luke pointed to him, and he gave Marie a nod of acknowledgment. “And that’s Jordan.” 

“Yeah, we’ve met.” 

“You gonna reject me from this outing, too?” Marie said, and at that, (Y/N) did laugh. 

“I’d love to.” Jordan snapped, but Andre stepped in between the two of them. 

“No, play nice.” Andre said. “Or I will not share my drugs with you.” 

Andre opened the door of Luke’s car for Cate, and (Y/N) finally moved from his spot in the darkness to approach the group. 

“Come on, we’ll take my car,” Luke said to Marie, and as soon as (Y/N) was in touching distance, he reached over and grabbed him. “You’re with me too.” 

(Y/N) rolled his eyes, “Obviously.” 

Luke just smiled at him, pushing him toward the car before opening the driver-side door to get in. (Y/N) didn’t bother with the seat belt as Luke drove off but was pleasantly amused that Marie had. He opened the window, lighting up another cigarette. 

“Put that shit out,” Luke called from the driver's seat, and (Y/N) simply took a drag blowing it in Luke’s direction with a smug smile. Marie eyed the two carefully, but Luke just laughed off (Y/N)'s action. “Not everyone’s lungs can heal on demand, (Y/N).” 

“Pity.” 

Marie was quiet throughout the drive, only speaking when directly spoken to. (Y/N) almost pitied the poor girl, and he hoped he was wrong about Andre’s intentions with her. She was too quiet and innocent by the way her eyes widened when (Y/N) broke out a baggy of white powder to just be another notch on Andre’s bedpost. 

When they pulled onto the block where Seven Tower stood tall, (Y/N) caught Luke’s eye through the rearview mirror. Luke shrugged, smiling, and (Y/N) just shook his head. If (Y/N) thought Marie was starstruck before, it was nothing compared to the look in the girl’s eyes as they climbed up to the roof of the tower. 

“Holy shit.” She said under her breath, and (Y/N) let out a soft laugh. 

“It’s something alright.” (Y/N) said, and Marie was startled, as if she’d forgotten he was there. She gave him a small smile and a nod, walking to the set of stairs that led to a small elevated platform near the ledge. 

(Y/N) let her walk off, making his way over to where Andre had started taking bottles and baggies out of his bag. (Y/N) watched as Luke spotted Marie and left the group to walk in her direction. He frowned to himself, but his attention was quickly caught by the bottle being shoved into his hands by Andre. 

“I can’t believe you’re here, dude,” Andre said as (Y/N) tipped the bottle back, gagging slightly as he did so. Andre slung his arm over (Y/N)'s shoulder, making the bottle spill slightly on Jordan, who was standing next to him. “I bet Jordan a hundred bucks that you would make up an excuse not to come.” 

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow at Jordan who just laughed, “I did not take the bet.” 

“I tried.” (Y/N) said, passing the bottle to Cate. “Luke wouldn’t have it.” 

“Thank god for that.” Andre shoved a bagging into his hand. 

The rest of the night is a bit of a blur to (Y/N) between the booze and the drugs. There were times in his life when he was grateful for the Compound V flowing through his veins, and every single time was when he’d consumed enough substances to kill an average human. 

He doesn’t remember how they got to the club, and he vaguely remembers Cate pushing the bouncer into letting them in with no questions asked. His memory kicked back in as soon as Luke got him to take a seat on the mysteriously sticky club chairs. (Y/N) gave a grateful hum as his ass hit the leather, sinking in and letting his head fall back against the back of the chair. 

“You guys in?” Andre asked, waving around yet another baggy. 

“Is that cocaine?” Marie said, and once again the word innocent popped up in (Y/N)'s mind. 

“(Y/N) finished all the coke-” (Y/N) smacked them on the arm. “It’s Molly.” 

“Hey, I don’t really fuck with powders.” Luke said, leaning in close to Marie. “ “But I do microdose shrooms.” 

“So what do you say freshman?” 

“Um.” Marie gave an awkward laugh. “No thank you.” 

“You know I could take my glove off and make you.” Cate said, “I won’t. Cause I’m all about consent. But I could, so you should.” 

(Y/N) thought he made a comment at Cate’s statement, but he couldn’t remember if it was in his head or if he managed to say it out loud. It didn’t matter as Marie nervously licked her finger and stuck it in the open bag, taking the drugs to the delight of the young adults around her. Before Marie could process what happened, Cate dragged her away to dance. 

“I told you.” Andre said. 

“Yeah. She’s cool.” Jordan smiled, and (Y/N) gave a hum. 

“She’s innocent.” He said, and all eyes turned to him as if they’d forgotten he was there. 

“She’s just a freshman.” Luke said. “We were innocent once.” 

(Y/N) gave a noncommittal shrug, and Luke frowned at the motion. Jordan stood up, giving them all an excuse about getting drinks, and (Y/N) let himself fall back into his hazy bliss.

Andre and Luke continued to talk around him. (Y/N) was included in this conversation, but he doesn't remember if he said anything, and if he did, he doesn't remember what. He remembers Luke telling Andre about his upcoming move into Seven Tower, and he remembers Andre practically tackling Luke off the seats in excitement. 

“There she is,” Luke said as Jordan sat back down, and (Y/N) opened his eyes, taking in Jordan’s new appearance. 

“You changed. Why?” 

“Cause I fucking felt like it.” Jordan said, and (Y/N) whispered a small “Good for you’” that Jordan chuckled at. “Also free drinks.” 

“True. Cheers.” 

“To the Seven.” Andre said, and Jordan’s eyebrow furrowed in confusion before it clicked in their head. “Fucking Seven.” 

“Quiet down. I just told you.” Luke tapped his glass against Andre’s anyway. 

“You gotta invite me to the Tower.” Andre said, leaning back into the leather. “Cause I crush hard on A-train. A speedster in bed?” 

“Making a mental note right now to never invite you.” 

“It is the least surprising surprise ever, but congrats. When do you start?” 

“You mean when do I leave so you can finally be ranked number one?” Luke joked, but Jordan just scoffed. 

“Please. That’d be great but the trustees think I’m too confusing. No way I’ll be number one.” They said, bitterness lacing their tone like venom. 

“The trustees put you in the orientation video.” (Y/N) rolled his eyes at Andre’s statement. 

“Yeah, so they could suck their own dicks about how progressive they are.” 

“Okay, well Brink does carry a lot of weight with them and he loves you.” Luke tried to reassure them. “I mean you’re like his favorite son/daughter. I think you got a shot.” 

“You’re thinking of (Y/N),” Jordan said, pointing at the man in question as they did so. “His actual son.” 

“Adopted.” (Y/N) mumbled, unsure if his voice was carrying across the table with all the noise around them. 

“Still, if he’s gonna make anyone number one it’ll be you.” (Y/N) made a face at the statement which got him a few laughs from the people around him. 

“(Y/N) will have to be sober for more than three hours if he wants to be number one.” Andre said, and (Y/N) just flipped him the bird. “Plus he’ll have to actually start attending his combat classes.” 

“Fuck combat.” (Y/N) said, and Andre simply pointed at him as if to say ‘See I told you so.’ 

“Still, it’ll be either (Y/N) or Andre, as much as that pisses me off.” Jordan shrugged, and (Y/N) could see that it bothered them more than they were letting on. In a more stable state, and if it wasn’t Jordan Li, he might have tried to offer words of assurance. But as it was, he was losing his battle with the fog that was threatening to overtake him completely at any second, and he really only tried to use his words with Luke. 

“That- that responsibility and having to work with my dad.” Andre shivered. “Fuck that. That’s all you. I will cheer you on as I continue to suck and fuck my little heart out.” 

(Y/N) hummed in agreement, an all too familiar blackness softening the edges of his vision. 

“But you, you worked your fucking ass of for this. And I’m proud of you.” Andre said to Luke. “I love you man.” 

“Love you.” 

Andre left them after that, someone catching his eye from across the room, and (Y/N) let himself fade further into the fog. He vaguely registered Luke talking to him, but he doesn’t remember what about or if he even managed a response. At some point, Jordan had relaxed into his side, mumbling something nonsensical into his ear. But the next thing he truly remembers is being hauled off the couch urgently, the sound of screams echoing around him. 

The incident itself is blurry, overshadowed by the screaming and sudden dizziness that came with being hauled to his feet way too fast. He remembers people calling out his name for help, and Jordan telling them- 

“No way. He’s too high to try and do something. He’ll just make it worse.” 

And he remembers watching Marie kneel to the ground, hand outstretched towards a girl lying on the floor bloody. There’s cheers and murmurs as she stands up, outfit ruined by blood, and the group of them rush out of the club into the chilled air. 

After that it all goes black.

He coughed, chest twinging in pain, as the alarm went off. He threw back five painkillers and kept the lights off as he dressed. As he gathered his papers for Brink, throwing them haphazardly into his bag, he decided two things- 

One: He was never blindly agreeing to anything Luke asked him ever again. 

Two: He was going to kill Luke’s friends, Luke, and then possibly himself if his head didn’t stop pounding by the time he walked over to Brink’s office. 

He’d hoped that years of near constant substance abuse would train his abilities into curing hangovers as fast as they did cuts and bruises, but it seems his powers hadn’t quite gotten with the program yet. Still he was grateful that the longest they ever seemed to last was a few hours. 

He made his way through campus like a dead man, hood up and eyes down. His research wasn’t due, if one could call a favor for their adoptive father due, till later in the day, and as the sun blinded him, he considered just going back to his dorm and waiting the hangover out in the darkness. But (Y/N) didn’t plan on being sober come four o’clock, and he was hoping to push any lectures Brink had on how a supe should present themself in public till later in the semester. 

When he reached the crime fighting building he really wished he’d just given into his whims and gone back to his dorm. 

“What the fuck? Luke?” (Y/N) shouted, rushing over to where Andre and Marie were standing across from his best friend. His very much on fire, best friend. 

“Fuck everyone else. It’s just me and you.” Andre said as Luke looked around them frantically. Andre didn’t even notice (Y/N)'s approach, his eyes solely focused on the man in front of him. “You know I love you.” 

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.” Luke responded. 

“Hey.” Andre caught sight of (Y/N) as soon as (Y/N) reached him. He grabbed (Y/N)'s arm, forcing him to take a step closer to Luke whose eyes were frantically looking between his two best friends. “Look (Y/N)'s here, whatever happened just tell us and we’ll get through it.” 

Luke’s flames went out, and he rushed the two men. (Y/N) barely registered Marie’s shout behind him before Luke engulfed Andre in a hug. The two men spoke lowly to one another, and as quick as he had rushed Andre Luke pulled away, looking to (Y/N). 

His cheeks were stained with tears, and he began to sob even harder when he made eye contact with (Y/N). Luke collapsed into (Y/N)'s arms, causing him to stumble back. 

“Luke, what’s going on?” (Y/N) whispered, a lump forming in his throat. 

“I am so sorry. I love you, and I’m so sorry.” Luke sobbed into his shoulder, and (Y/N) held him tighter. 

“I love you too.” His eyes watered as he spoke. “Luke, you’re scaring me, what the fuck is going on?” 

“I am so sorry, but I had to,” Luke said, and (Y/N) felt tears begin to slip down his cheeks. Luke turned his head, whispering something in (Y/N)'s ear that made him freeze. He loosened his hold on Luke, pulling away just enough to look Luke in his eyes. 

“Luke?” 

“I am so sorry,” Luke said one last time, pressing a kiss to (Y/N)'s hair. (Y/N) watched, eyes wide, as Luke took a step back. He ignited himself, pushing off the ground and into the air. He watched as he flew higher and higher, getting brighter the higher he went until (Y/N) had to close his eyes to shield them from the light. 

When (Y/N) opened his eyes again he was covered in blood. Luke’s blood.

[jordanmoreau]

Nothing In Particular

limoreau au; → in which two strangers come to understand one another as friends and (perhaps) as something more♡ 1,6k words

───

“Can you not be a jack ass for like, 5 minutes?” Marie grumbles weakly, her slender fingers lazily stirring the spoon that sat in her half drunken coffee. It must have been almost cold by now, the foam now separated and sad.

Her eyes never strayed from the window opposite where her and Emma sat, watching absentmindedly as leaves swayed and danced down from the trees above. Her friend snorted lightly next to her, nudging Marie’s leg with her foot jovially.

“C’mon, can’t you take a joke? she chirps. Her notes are left forgotten in front of her, half of them threatening to fall off on top the slabbed floor. They were barely legible due to the excessive highlighter however Emma insisted she could read them perfectly. Marie didn’t believe her.

“If you're interested in them, why don’t you just go over and say hi?” she says, as though its as easy as that. She begins scrunching up her face when Marie protests, “they’re not going to bite your head off, top ten or not”.

───

Emma was referring to a certain bi gender student that now occupied the furthermost booth inside the tiny cafe they had begun to frequent since the beginning of the semester.

It was a few weeks before that Marie had decided to give the new spot a try. She had sighed shakily to herself before entering, bracing herself for the certain conversation at the counter. The bell above the door chimes as she opens the door and it startles her a little. Did she always have to be so on edge, she thinks.

She orders at the counter with ease (a chai oat latte, extra cinnamon). Whilst waiting she leans against the counter, hugging her self tightly from inside her jacket.

Her head turns as she studies her surroundings curiously. It’s quiet apart from one other person, their mass of dark curls falling across their forehead as they bowed their head, clearing immersed in whatever they were reading. A pair of round wire rim glasses sit on the table in front of them along with a small pouch of pens and a stack of textbooks. Marie can make out 'Hero Ethics' in bold on the side of one of them, the rest of the words escaping her vision.

As if feeling eyes on them, the strangers head suddenly shifts, wet brown eyes coming into view as they peer upward. Marie's cheeks feel hot and she hurriedly turns away, feeling caught and almost knocks her order off the counter with her arm. She pulls her bag higher up on shoulder with a grimace and picks up her drink. A beeline for the nearest window table, she doesn't look back over for fear of making eye contact.

───

Over the next few visits Marie catches herself looking for the stranger in the corner. Her bottom lip snagged subconsciously between her teeth and a ridiculous amount of caffeine under her belt.

The stranger never looked the same twice in one week, she realized. On one day she’d entered to find them leaning back nonchalantly, legs spread in a comfortable manner. One hand held a book with ease, the other playing with their hair. It was short, slightly wavy and swept back off their face. A necklace that hung around there neck was balancing against their lip as though placed there as they read and a jacket was draped across their broad shoulders.

The next week, she almost missed them. Marie could tell it was the same person instinctively, the same blue jacket slung over the back of the booth and a sleek curtain of raven black hair falling against their cheeks in a little bob. She watched intently as the stranger pouted softly, pausing their note taking and reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind their ear. They seemed to think for a while, twirling their pen between their fingers before returning to the page.

Marie liked the way their hair sat prettily around their face, the way their shoulders tensed slightly or when they chewed absentmindedly on their pen.

She didn’t know what was so magnetic about this stranger; maybe it was nothing in particular.

───

It was the day before last that Marie had chosen to peek at the stranger again, only tilting her head slightly and peering through her eyelashes. Her heart faltered though when she realized they had met her gaze. This caused her mouth to run dry and she felt a pang of panic rise in her stomach.

Their head tilted slightly to one side almost cat-like, the corners of their mouth twitching almost like a smile was threatening to break through. Marie silently cursed herself for being so nosy and decided to concentrate on her work, head ducking down. She almost dove head long into her latte in an attempt to seem busy, the cinnamon causing her to cough lamely as she inhaled it.

By the end of her study session (Marie had persevered, very bravely she thought) she had completed a few pages of work for her intro to Hero Ethics class. She blows on the pages from a short distance, hoping to hurry along the ink drying. The bell above the door chimes behind her and she flinches only to notice that the booth in the corner was now empty.

“Chai latte, extra cinnamon?” the server appears at her table, cradling a cup and saucer. Marie frowns with confusion, finger tips tapping her empty cup.

“I didn’t order anything, I’m sorry,” she says, to which the server shakes the head.

“It’s been paid for,” they say, gently setting it down. Marie freezes for a second at that before thanking the server. She tries to push away the butterflies in her stomach, giving the cafe one last scan before returning to her notes.

───

“It must’ve been them!” Emma says loudly. Marie’s gives her a tight lipped expression in return, causing Emma to roll her eyes with a playful grin.

“You know I could introduce you,”

Marie almost gets whiplash from how quickly her head snaps up at that. “You know them?” she whispers, almost afraid of them hearing her from across the room.

Emma mumbles something incoherent, gesturing with her fingers.

“Vaguely,” Marie scoffs at that. Emma throws her a look of indignation. “I do!”.

Emma knew of them. She recognized their face from the rankings board, nearly tackling Marie when she told her about the 'mysterious booth stranger' with the unreadable demeanor.

Today, the stranger was hunched over their table with their head down. Marie assumed that they were writing something urgent, a paper perhaps. They had barely looked up, hand gliding over each page without stopping.

Marie hadn’t looked over hardly at all that day, bringing Emma along for a good distraction. Besides, the girl was always a good friend to have around. Unfortunately she also had a habit of never letting anything go. Marie swallows.

“Do you have a pen I can borrow?”

Marie’s trance is broken, the gentle cadence new and almost musical. It was the stranger from the booth. They were in their male form, expression controlled and brows knitted together. Marie couldn’t help but stare for a moment, mouth slightly ajar before Emma interjected.

“Marie has one, don’t you Marie?” Emma says, intentionally pushing her own pencil case toward Marie with the end of her pencil. The stranger looks to Emma for a moment before focusing back on Marie.

“Yeah?” they ask, their hip grazing the table as they step closer. Marie, finally snapping out of her momentary daze, pushes the pen in her hand toward them. Their eyes follow Marie’s movement, flitting between the pen and her face.

Marie gives them a tight lipped smile, inwardly urging them to leave. She can’t take the awkwardness she’s exuding. However the stranger suddenly smiles, a small lovely smile. She notices the dimples that appear as they smile wider and her pulse jumps at the sight.

“Thank you, Marie” they say, waving the pen as if to indicate they were taking it. They don’t move for a second, a moment of silence falling across the trio. Emma pretends to clear her throat, leaning across the table.

“And you are…” she asks, her face contorted comically as though she has a lot riding on the answer. Marie felt like she at least, did.

The stranger half smiles again, scratching the back of their head.

“Uhh, Jordan?”they offer, almost posing it as a question. Emma grins, clearly pleased with herself.

“Emma,” she says, using two thumbs to point at herself, “and this is Marie, obviously”

It’s then with a pang of embarrassment that Marie realises Jordan’s eyes haven’t left her face since Emma began talking.

Jordan nods at her and Marie wonders if they’re usually this shy. Emma coughs again as if to alert Marie, eyeing the two exasperatedly.

Jordan smiles again awkwardly, mumbling something about “seeing them around” and wonders off back to their table, pen in hand. Emma smacks her hands dramatically on the table to which Marie jumps. Emma expression screams “are you kidding me” as she jabs a finger at a retreating Jordan.

“Stop,” Marie hisses desperately. Jordan finds their way back to their table, leaning down to test the pen on a loose bit of paper. Presumably pleased, they sit back down. Marie wants to scream at herself. She rubs her face roughly, frustrated.

"Hero Ethics, right?" a voice calls. It's Jordan, leaning across their table with their textbook presented toward Marie. She can read it more clearly now and she realizes that Jordan must be the year above her, maybe even a senior.

Marie nods slowly. She blinks and Jordan's half way across the room already, rounding her table before she can utter an audible response. A folder in hand, Jordan offers it to her. "First year notes," they explain. With a shaky hand, Marie takes them. She smiles, her first proper smile in their presence and meets their gaze.

"Thanks," she says, trying to keep her voice steady. Jordan shrugs coolly.

"Least I can do, freshman".

// authors note: did someone say, slow burn?? I am fairly rusty at writing like this so this was a little daunting to start however I hope this reads well. If this does well, I'll begin writing a part two soon! <3 trust me the study partners will be partnering eventually.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Day 35:“Excuse me—where is my Christmas kiss?”

Fandom:Gen V

Character: Jordan Li

Naughty or Nice

A/n: Shoulda been posted yesterday! But i have been to tired

It was nice, to get this moment of peace. Not to mention how cute you looked in their arms. Jordan presenting in their masculine form watched you sleep. And you were just too adorable to not take advantage of. Leaning in, they pressed their lips against yours for a moment only to pull away as they watched you wrinkle your nose.

Slowly blinking awake, you gave Jordan a sleepy smile as your fingers trailed across their cheek. "Hm good morning handsome."

"Hm handsome, I'll take that for now." They teased pulling you close to their chest. "But that remind's me."

Jordan paused as they continued to let their fingers down your back as they felt you nuzzle your face into your chest. “where is my Christmas kiss?”

Blinking, you let out a laugh shifting your body so you were not sitting on your hips. "Didn't you already kiss me?"

Jordan scoffed then rolled their eyes as they gave your hip's a squeeze. "That's different, I kissed you."

"Fine." Leaning down you let your lips brush theirs only to feel their body change. The hard muscle under your hand's was now soft under your finger tips.

Humming, Jordan squeezed your hips giving you another smile. "Again."

"Ugh so needy." Playfully squeezing their cheek's you gave them another kiss.

[stellasfictionalworld]

part 2.

part 3

a/n: i got so excited i decided to right a second part already. reader is referred to as cupid. 

reader x andre anderson 

cw: (i mean you’ve watched the show so) implied sex, swearing, under age drinking, fluff, use of drugs, implied sexual assault

word count: 1,606

Your roommate is Ashley Carter. You two hit it off well, she’s been taking the Performing Arts courses. Although, you’ve suggested she might as well join Hero Management since she saved your ass last year. When your Student Rating skyrocketed after your fuck fest, she was right there beside you. Excited for you, and helped you point yourself in the right direction. She helped you find a marketing team, and read through contracts to make sure you weren’t getting scammed. It made sense, considering Ashley was taking some law classes on the side with her Performing Arts courses. 

Yet she loved the big screen, and it was made for her. Her power was that she could sparkle, like literally. Edward Cullen style, without the need for blood. She very much could blind the shit out of you or act as a disco ball. Anyhow, you two made the cutest insta posts together. Cupid and Glitter. 

Your name was called as you pulled a knee-high sock. You greeted your roommate as she flopped onto her bed. 

“Look at you,” you could hear the smile on her face. “You think you’ll get to be one of them? I can see it already,” she said.

You turned to your roommate and shook your head but you had a small smile on your face.

“I’d like to get to know them first,” you said, your heart sinking. You wouldn’t be used, not again. You put on the rest of your outfit and posed for Ashley. “What do you think,” you said. 

“Cuuuute,” she said, snapping a picture. 

“Thanks,” you winked. “What are your plans by the way?” you asked. 

“I think I’m gonna see Jen again,” she said. 

You grinned widely and your brows shot up. “You’re gonna find love before I do,” you said and her face started to get red. 

“Get out of here,” she waved you off. “Go see Andre,” she added. 

“Okay, but tomorrow. Drinks and stories,” you pointed at her and she nodded. 

…

It wasn’t till you got there, that you realized this was Dusty’s place. You’d gone to other house parties, but this place was a mad(crack)house. The shit that happened here, most of the time no one would remember by morning. Your stomach churned as you followed a group ahead of you. They opened the door and you were immediately hit with the smell of sweat and weed. The mad(fuck)house was booming with life. Dancing, snorting up cocaine, makeout sessions, and other crude shit happened right in front of your eyes. Someone bumped into you and you took that as a sign to move. 

You texted Andre, saying you’d made it inside. You licked the cherry gloss on your lips as you made your way around the house. You found the drinks and grabbed the first thing you saw. Your fingers trembled as you tried to get the top off. 

“Fuck,” you muttered in annoyance. The rancid smell of vomit hit your nose already. 

“Need help with that?” someone asked beside you. 

“Yeah actually,” you looked up with a sweet smile. Your blood went ice cold when you recognized the blonde you were looking at. Rufus, you’d heard rumors about him, they usually involved non-consent situations. A part of you told you to run, but you kept up the smile. Offering him the bottle and he cracked it open with ease. 

“Thank you,” you said and took a step around him.

“No problem,” he blocked your escape, putting a hand on the kitchen counter. “You’re Cupid right?” he asked. 

“The one and only,” you sipped your drink, “and you are?” you asked. 

“Rufus, sure you haven’t heard of me?” he asked with a slightly higher pitch. 

You pressed your lips together and knitted your brows together. You were picking at his ego on purpose, it’s what he deserved after all. 

“I think the name rings a bell, do we have a class together?” you asked. 

He laughed dryly, eyeing your tits now. Chills ran down your spine, fucking wanting to run. You were in his range, he could catch you the minute you turned around. 

He started to talk again, and your phone buzzed. 

“Sorry, give me a sec,” you said and you didn’t hear a response. 

Andre

10:03 pm

just got here, where are you?

You swallowed thickly as you typed away.

10:03

Kitchen, with Rufus. 

“Sorry ‘bout that,” you said with your fake smile. 

“No worries,” he stepped closer to you. Your nose scrunched up, overwhelmed by his cologne and alcohol breath. “What do you say, we go upstairs? I know you’re kinda on break, but c’mon,” he laughed, licking his lips. “I know you’re dying for some,” he finished his sentence. You would have gagged on the spot if not for the fact he thought you wanted this. He was giving you a choice, not mind fucking you yet. 

“I just got here,” you cracked a smile, “I wanna party a little first,” you said.

He did not like that. He stared at you, hungry for the parts of you that everyone knew about. You might as well have been naked, people openly talked about your body last year. Everyone knew about your magic touch. Rufus wanted more than a taste, and you were going to give it to him. Right to his crotch. 

Before your fist collided with anything, a hand wrapped around your hip. Your brows shot up and you looked over your shoulder. Andre pressed himself against you and smiled at you. 

“Sorry for making you wait,” he said, he gave your hip a gentle squeeze. “Rufus,” he said darkly, immediately Rufus cleared his throat. He backed the fuck up and eyed you then him. There were flashes of anger and fear between each glance. Then he muttered something before disappearing with a bottle of beer. 

You let out a breath of relief and blinked away the wetness in your eyes. 

“You okay? Did he do anything to you?” he asked, staring down the hallway Rufus had escaped with. You wondered if he hoped to have laser eyes at that very moment. You took in a breath and chugged the beer. 

“He didn’t, thanks to you,” you put down the bottle and grabbed a cold one. “Thank you,” you looked up at him and he nodded.

“It’s my fault if–” he said, and you shushed him. 

“Don’t. Nothing happened, it’s all good,” you smiled.

“Right,” he took in a sharp breath through his nose, “just stay with me. I’ll make sure he doesn't even fucking look at you,” he looked down at you. 

It was sweet, he got so pressed on your behalf. You could handle yourself, but sometimes you still needed saving. Though it wasn’t the first time you dealt with guys like Rufus, considering your last year in God U. Andre simmered down but hadn’t moved his hand the whole time. 

“Let’s party, yeah?” you said. “Didn’t you say your friends were here too?” you asked. 

“Yeah, let’s go,” his shoulders had dropped, and he gave you his iconic gorgeous smile. His hand finally slipped away, but you swear you saw his fingers flinch when he let go. You followed him, and he pointed to the group sitting outside. They were sitting on picnic chairs, around a foldable table. You immediately appreciated the fresh air, it was a bit cold making you close up your cardigan. 

There were a few people outside in the pool, some chilling outside of it. It wasn’t too noisy though. The table was filled with laughter as Andre and you took a seat. They’d saved an extra seat just for you. 

“Hey,” Cate greeted you first, then Luke did, and you received a nod from Jordan. “You two okay?” she asked with brows furrowed. Her big blue eyes twinkled because of the fairy lights, she looked like a Disney princess. One who looked so hot smoking a blunt before passing it to Luke.

“It’s fine.”

“Rufus was talking to her.”

You both blurted at the same time.

Your brow shot up and immediately the mood was killed. 

“Shit, did he do anything to you?” Luke immediately asked.

“No he didn’t, luckily Andre saved me,” you bumped shoulders with him. He gave you a small smile, but something told you he wasn’t going to let this go any time soon. Cate had gone quiet with a distant look in her eyes before lighting a new blunt. She handed it to you with a small smile. You dragged out the blunt and immediately melted into your chair. 

Time passed, and all of you discussed how classes were hard. You and Cate disagreed though. Andre needed saving before his grade dropped, so in between drinks. You’d offered to help him, tutor instead of giving him the answers. He seemed surprisingly excited by the idea, saying you should. His friends were rolling their eyes and grinning. 

You were so distracted with other shit, like how the sun umbrella looked like it was melting. Jordan had given you some good shit, and you’d cried to them. Saying how good this shit was, and how grateful they were your provider. They’d toppled over laughing in their fem form with you. You both eventually just couldn’t stop laughing next to the pool. 

Then you woke up in your bed. The drapes were open, causing you to groan. You fell out of bed and shut them immediately. Then you collapsed back onto your bed. You touched your jacket, realizing it wasn’t even yours. Then you sat up. 

“Holy shit,” you said. 

[dykepvppy]

cate Dunlap x transmasc reader if ur okay with that 🙈

WELL YES !

she takes care of you when you are healing after top surgery:3

Will literally give you kisses on your scars when they are healed or traces her fingers on your scars which you don’t mind

Telling you how much she is proud of you and telling you that she’s your only one :3

Buys your new boxers when yall fuck… the rough fucking and verbal fucking maybe soft fucking IS INSANE

Gives you praises :3

Will show you off because so everyone will know you are hers

[bnecaz]

I could fix her but I like her the way she is

[bumblesimagines]

i'm not jealous.

i just don't like it when they talk to you like that.

can we be more exclusive?

Jordan Li

Pronouns: They/Them/Theirs, GN/NB!Reader

CW/TW: Semi possessive behavior

"Never did I think there'd be a day where the Jordan Li.. got jealous."

"I'm not jealous." Jordan barked sharply, the fiery look in their dark eyes prompting Luke to raise his hands in playful surrender.

Truth be told, Jordan was more than jealous. They were pissed. It was one thing to watch some oblivious freshie stammer through an attempt at flirting with someone way out of their league, it was another watching Andre Anderson purposefully do it with their fuck buddy.

The moment Jordan realized their feelings ran deeper than just lust and respect, they'd ensured everyone knew (Y/N) was off-limits. Was it the healthiest thing considering they weren't even dating? Not really, but Jordan would rather chew their own hand off than suffer through a rejection.

The soft cracking of glass reached Luke's ears in time to pluck the champagne from Jordan's fingers, crinkled eyes inspecting the cracks along the glass before gingerly setting it aside.

"Maybe, and just hear me out," Luke grinned. "You go over there and finally do something about this.. thing you two have going on."

Jordan shifted their weight from foot to foot, arms crossing and clammy hands digging into their forearms. "What if.. I.. I don't want to get rejected, Luke. What if-"

"Trust me, Jordan, you'll be fine. Now go before you end up committing murder, alright?" Luke chuckled, gently giving Jordan's shoulders a light push.

As they began making their way toward (Y/N) and Andre, their mind raced with what to say. They'd never been particularly good with words, even less with expressing their feelings.. but Luke was right. They had to do something.

"This party's fucking lame," Andre sighed, rolling his shoulders and sliding his arm around (Y/N)'s waist far too casually for Jordan's liking. His eyes twinkled with mischief. "Why don't we head back to the dorms and I can show you an actual good time?"

"Beat it, Andre." Jordan practically bristled, naturally shifting into their masc form and yanking Andre back by his collar. God, did they sometimes want to cave his head in.

"Hey, relax, Jo." (Y/N)'s voice filled their ears, their fingers releasing Andre and a hint of shame mixing with the irritation.

"Think Luke's calling me, anyway." Andre muttered, adjusting his collar and sparing the two one last look before slinking off.

(Y/N) watched him go, one hand sliding along Jordan's stomach before settling at their hip and tugging on it. Jordan turned toward them fully, eyes downcast and cheeks lightly flushed from their touch alone.

"What's wrong?"

"I.. I just don't like it when he talks to you like that." Jordan mumbled and raised their gaze off the floor, studying all the features they'd fallen for over the course of a few months. "I don't like it when anyone talks to you like that. I... Can we be more exclusive?"

(Y/N) blinked, and right when Jordan went to take it all back, they smiled. "Yeah, sure." (Y/N) nodded with a soft chuckle, leaning in and kissing the corner of their lips. "But I expect a real date soon, Li."

[psychostxr]

���𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐢 | emotions

PAIRING. jordan li x gn! reader

WORD COUNT. 0.7k

WARNINGS. cursing, mentions of death, marie bashing (i'm sorry)

NOTES. i have also hopped on the jordan li train, and my god, i've never had a character chokehold me so tightly

Since Marie Moreau joined Godolkin University, everything has gone downhill. After the death of your friend Luke and the murder of your favorite professor, your life has gone through a ball of shit. You didn't want to blame Marie. The poor girl got caught up in Luke's drama — drama you didn't even know existed — she's just as traumatized as you are.

That's what you would've said before news spread around school that Marie and Andre were the ones that stopped Luke, not Jordan. Your partner who actually fought Luke while Marie ran at the first sign of danger. The thought of Marie frustrates you to no end, but you have other things to worry about, such as Jordan locking themself in their room since classes ended.

For as long as you've known Jordan, they've always been competitive. They climbed up the school's student ranks at Godolkin, beating almost anyone and everyone who tried to get in their way. They were one stop away from being first-ranked. But because of Marie and Andre's 'courageous act' of stopping Luke, they've been pushed up the ladder, while Jordan has to settle for fifth. It hurts to see Jordan so angry at the world and themself.

You knock gently on Jordan's door, hearing the muffled sounds of what you presume to be Marie's interview with Hailey Miller. The room goes quiet, and you wait a few moments for Jordan to open the door. But they don't.

"I know you're in there, Jordan." You turn the doorknob, rattling the door in your unsuccessful attempt to get in. You sigh and lean your head against the door. "Please open up, baby. I'm worried about you."

There's a moment of silence until the door cracks open. You take a step back, seeing Jordan's somber expression.

"Hey," you say, smiling softly. "Can I come in?"

Jordan hesitantly returns your smile. "Sure."

They open the door wider, allowing you to enter their dimly lit room. Their room is nothing from the usual, with clothes strewn over their couch and textbooks scattered on their desk. You pull your bag off your back, setting it down on Jordan's bed to retrieve your laptop and the takeout you bought from Vought A Burger.

"I was thinking we could maybe watch Property Brothers and have dinner together?" you suggest. "Or any other show if you want?"

Jordan shakes their head, their lips quirking upwards. "That sounds really nice, actually."

You pass Jordan the takeout, unsure if they've eaten anything since having lunch with you earlier today. You quickly set up the laptop on the coffee table before sitting on Jordan's bed.

Leaning against the headboard, you open your arms wide. "Come here."

Jordan doesn't hesitate, settling themselves in your waiting embrace. Their arms wrap around your torso, pulling them closer until their head finds a comfortable spot nestled against your stomach.

Feeling the weight of Jordan's emotions, you hold your partner close, your arms enveloping Jordan's shoulders. You softly kiss the crown of Jordan's head, your lips brushing against their ink-black hair.

"I'm sorry you're having a shitty day," you whisper, threading your fingers through their silky strands. "It's not fair."

"It's not your fault," Jordan says, sighing. "Shit happens."

"This school is shit," you explain, your anger spiking. "You've worked your fucking ass off to become second-ranked at Godolkin, but because of Marie and our asshole of a principal, you've lost your spot."

Jordan lifts their head to look at you. "It sounds like you're more upset than me."

"I'm sorry, it's just..." You shake your head before staring lovingly at Jordan. "I love you so much, Jordan. So much that I feel everything you feel. When you feel angry, I feel angry. When you're sad, I'm sad. So when you go through these obstacles in life, you aren't alone. I will always be there for you, baby."

Jordan crumbles at your words, and a small smile plays on their lips. They lift themself and lean towards you. Their lips press against yours gently before pulling away, leaving you no time to savour the kiss.

"I'm lucky to have you," they admit.

As you grin, you pull Jordan closer into another kiss. But this time, you can feel the intense emotions radiating off them, and you soak in the passion and love from Jordan's kiss. The rest of the night is spent in each other's arms, binge-watching Property Brothers and devouring greasy takeout.

© psychostxr — all rights reserved. please do not repost, copy, translate, or claim any of my works as your own.

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+

JORDAN LI loves your ass. No matter what gender they are at any given moment they describe themselves as an “ass guy.” Because “ass guy” has an energy, and there’s no contest between the two.

If she’s got a chance she’s smacking your ass to remind you she’s around, and that you let her do whatever to you whenever she wants to. Gives the underside a little pinch when she can afford it, kiss on one of the cheeks when she’s going in from behind with the strap, bite down on it to distract you when the length is too long and the girth is too thick.

He likes lap dances. He shifts his hips forward for you when you’re grinding down on his crotch, rolling your ass on him while he’s rolling his tongue between his lips. Make a big show of throwing his head back, blowing air out, biting down on the skin past his lower lip. “Baby…” he’ll exhale, all low in the voice you like. Later he’ll fuck you reverse cowgirl cos that’s his favorite position, big hands on your hips slamming you down onto his dick to watch your flesh ripple.

They want your ass grinding on them at parties, they want to knead on it when they’re making out with you, they wanna walk side-by-side with their hand in your back pocket like in that movie you showed them. When you’re straddling them on your mattress, you guide their hands down your waist to your thick backside stuffed in your little pajama shorts, and they clutch on and use that flesh to rock you back and forth on them until you cum all up in your pretty panties.

[eternalslover]

REAL, SAME WITH MARIE

where are all the fics for andre anderson?? that man is so fine, hello???

[j-k-writes]

Doomsday - 2

Summary - Luke and Brink are dead, and (Y/N) is trying his best to come to terms with the situation. But the young adult has never been known for leaving well enough alone.

Warnings - General Gen V warnings, heavy drug use, canon character death(s), grief and mourning, unhealthy coping mechanisms, mentioned child abuse, unhealthy relationships, panic attacks, seizures, blood and violence

His bloody clothes were taken from him as soon as the police arrived on the scene, and it was only then that he realized he was wearing one of Luke’s old hoodies. He asked if he would get it back and the officer just looked at him wordlessly before shaking his head. 

(Y/N) took a seat on the curb and sat there as the police took statements until the sun went down. A shock blanket was thrown over his shoulders, but he doesn’t remember by who. The bright flashing red and blue lights blinded him as the sky darkened around them, and every so often, the power washers would get too close and spray him. 

Jordan, (Y/N), Andre, and Marie were the only people allowed to stay within the taped-off crime scene, but (Y/N) could see and hear the clamor of too-curious students trying to push past the guards to see what was left of their precious Golden Boy. 

Of Luke. 

Of (Y/N)'s best friend. 

None of the people trying to get a good look with their flashlights and phone cameras understood what had happened today. They might think they were grieving this loss alongside him, but none of them would ever truly understand what had just been taken from him. 

His father and his best friend. 

His father because of his best friend. 

He’d met Brink because of Luke, and now he’s lost him because of Luke too. 

(Y/N) jumped to his feet as someone pushed past the guards, but quickly paused his motions at the realization that it was just Cate. 

Right. 

Luke meant something to her too. 

He watched silently as Cate took in the scene around her and collapsed into a fit of sobs, not unlike (Y/N) had done earlier that day when the gravity of what he’d just witnessed caught up with him. (Y/N) just stared at the girl, unable to offer her any comfort. Andre looked to his frozen figure before walking over to Cate and wrapping his arms around her. 

No one had done that to him. Not Andre, not Jordan. There were no comforting hugs and quiet words for the boy who’d just lost it all. But Cate got comfort. Because she loved Luke. 

He loves Luke. Loved Luke. He loved Luke for longer and in more ways than she ever would. She was just louder about it. Why did that make her love, her grief, any more important than his? 

(Y/N) watched as Andre drew the sobbing girl in tighter, and at the sight he turned on his heel and walked away. Ignoring all the protests of the people around him.

(Y/N) was high when the new top ten ratings were announced. 

He’d been high for forty-eight straight hours. 

Classes were canceled in the wake of Brink’s death, but not Luke’s. The media had cast Luke as the villain and Brink as the brave martyr, though from what (Y/N) knew of his adoptive father and best friend, he couldn’t quite bring himself to buy into that narrative. 

He had about a hundred missed messages from Andre and Jordan. None from Cate. Shetty had emailed him, which made him laugh, but he just moved the email to his trash and went back to blowing through his stash. 

He spent the better part of his forty-eight hours ignoring those trying to reach out to him and scrolling through old photos of him and Luke. 

The oldest picture of them he had was of his adoption day. 

It was a small affair, Brink hadn’t wanted any party at all but Luke’s parents insisted. So Brink dressed (Y/N) up in a suit too fancy for a ten-year-old and off to the Riordan’s they went.

The photo itself is much warmer than the actual adoption itself had been. (Y/N) had shrunk in on himself as soon as they entered the courtroom. It was the same courtroom that his parents had given their rights up in not two months before, but this time (Y/N) wasn’t taking the stand to swear on a book he’d had quoted to him in fits of rage throughout his childhood. Instead, he was watching with a smile on his face as papers were signed and pictures were taken, ready to start his life anew. 

He’d come to realize years later just how naive he’d been. 

The picture is of him, Luke, and Brink. The boys were standing on either side of him with twin smiles of joy painted across their faces. Brink was smiling, too, an actual genuine smile. It was a rarity for such a serious man, and it made (Y/N) ache as he looked at it. 

He didn’t look at the picture again. 

Instead, he buried his nose in white powder and ate his daily calories in pills. He smiled to himself as the room spun, and he laid back on his bed. The colors of the posters on his wall blended together as his vision blurred, and the sounds of the people outside in the halls and the streets of campus blended together into a peaceful, quiet hum. 

His peace was interrupted by a chime on his phone. 

(Y/N) groaned as he rolled over, expecting another message to ignore or an email to delete. He raised an eyebrow at the notification and tapped on it half-heartedly.  

“Huh.” 

Andre was number one which was no shock to the boy. 

It was his own ranking that threw him off. 

Number two. 

Well shit. 

(Y/N) had never moved up beyond number five, too combat avoidant and argument-indulgent for the trustees to consider stable. It had always driven Brink mad when he brought (Y/N)’s name up to the board time and time again, only for it to be shot down. It’d only pissed him off more when (Y/N) was unperturbed by his status and continued his behavior. 

If only Brink could see him now. 

Number two and all it cost was his father and his best friend. 

He tossed his phone back on his bed, falling back against the mattress with a huff. He closed his eyes hoping to let sleep overtake him but between his racing thoughts and the stimulants in his system sleep refused to come. 

Groaning and rubbing his face he sat up. He grabbed a hoodie off the floor giving it a quick sniff before shrugging it on. He stepped out into the hallway, ignoring all the stares from his fellow students. 

He hadn’t been able to bring himself to visit the memorial set up for his adopted father right outside the building he’d taught in, and as he approached it, he remembered why. He paused before he could get close enough to even see the picture they’d picked. (Y/N) watched as students he’d never even seen enter the crime-fighting building cried around the memorial, some into their cell phones and some to their friends. 

His first thought was of a sick twisted amusement at the thought that they all probably got off on the  fact that they now had an interesting story to go home with. Something to really shock the family with over Thanksgiving dinner. 

His amusement quickly turned into anger. This was his father’s memorial, and they were standing here crying to their followers like they knew him. But they didn’t. How could they? 

They didn’t spend hours with the personal tutors he paid for waiting for him to come home so that they could see the smile of satisfaction on his face when the tutor told him that they were the most advanced pupil they’d ever taught. Brink never clapped them on the shoulder and told them, ‘Good job, son’, because they weren’t his son (Y/N) was.

He was never a very good son, and now he’d never be a son again. He had tried his best, but his own issues had always caught up with him in the end. Brink wanted him to be on the same level as Luke, but (Y/N) was never much of a fighter, much to the man’s disappointment. (Y/N) could never call Brink ‘Dad’ because the last person he’d called beat him so bloody even his abilities couldn’t get rid of the scars along his back. (Y/N) had always felt bad calling Brink by his name, but Brink had never seemed to mind; he was as much his teacher as his father, and you don’t call your teachers ‘Dad’. 

His relationship with Brink wasn’t perfect, but it was a relationship nonetheless. A relationship that these people didn’t have. 

(Y/N) turned on his heel to walk away, unsure of why he’d even attempted to visit the damned thing when he felt a hand grab his shoulder. 

“(Y/N), wait.” He stopped in his tracks, turning to face Jordan. Jordan paused at the sight of him, and (Y/N) was suddenly embarrassed by his disheveled appearance. “I just- um- how are you, man?” 

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow, “How am I?” 

“Yeah,” Jordan nodded, “No one has heard from you, and I know this is a tough time for everyone-” 

“A tough time for everyone?” (Y/N) interrupted, almost laughing. He pulled his arm from Jordan’s hold. 

Jordan furrowed their eyebrows, “Yeah? We all loved Luke, and I loved Brink just as much as you.” 

“Brink was my father, not yours, Li.” (Y/N) spat. “Do not try and sympathize with me.” 

(Y/N) turned and walked away. When he got back to his room, he yanked open his desk drawer and rummaged around for the sleeping pills Brink had given him a few months ago for when the dreams got bad. He took five and crashed onto his bed, sleep finally falling over him.

Shetty let him have a week off before she basically demanded he get his act together and go back to class. He had hoped that he’d get at least a month off but with the amount of extra classes he was taking to graduate a year early, it was no shock that Shetty was cutting his wallowing time off early. So, while he didn’t get his act together, he did go back to class. 

Jordan avoided his gaze as he walked by, and the action made a small part of (Y/N) smile. He took his usual seat in the back of the class, and ignored all the pitying looks he got from students he hadn’t bothered to learn the names of even though he’d definitely been in class with them for two years. 

“Professor Brinkerhoff died the same way he taught.” Shetty spoke from the front of the class, “A hero. He molded the Lamplighter School of Crime Fighting into the shining exemplar it is today. Nobody could possibly replace him so- I will.” 

(Y/N) stifled a giggle. 

“Or at least I’ll try.” Whether Shetty caught his reaction was unclear. “We will cover everything Brink would cover but we’ll also get into the intersection of superpowers and mental health, which was my dissertation.” 

Inwardly (Y/N) groaned, praying Shetty wasn’t as keen on using her own students as examples as Brink had been. She’d have a field day with (Y/N) and his childhood if that were the case. His thoughts were quickly interrupted as Marie entered the class, and Shetty paused her rant turning to smile at the girl. 

“Oh. Marie.” 

“Sorry I’m late.” 

“I’m Dean Shetty. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Please take a seat.” Marie turned to look at the students who were all gaping like fish at her, (Y/N) included. They made eye contact, and Marie’s gaze fell to the empty seat next to the boy. (Y/N) watched as she decided against the action and took a seat in the front row. “We’re letting Ms. Moreau audit the junior-year classes. What you and Andre did, well, it’s obvious you belong here.” 

The class passed by in a blur. (Y/N) took full advantage of his seat in the back of the class and put his head down five minutes into Shetty’s lecture. By the time Shetty reached the end of the hour, (Y/N) had managed to take a ten-minute power nap, pull at the fraying end of his left sleeve, and take zero notes. 

Shetty pulled him aside as the rest of his classmates filed out of the room, and (Y/N) mentally prepared himself for the incoming lecture. 

“(Y/N).” Shetty said, smiling at him. “How are you?” 

(Y/N) blinked at the question. “How am I?” 

“Yes.” 

“My best friend is being villainized by every news site in the country,” (Y/N) said, unable to keep his rising anger out of his voice. “And my father was murdered, by the very same best friend. How do you think I’m doing, Shetty?” 

“Call me Indira, (Y/N).” Shetty said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “And I know this is a tough time, I feel for you, truly I do. Whatever you need, just ask.” 

She didn’t wait for (Y/N) to answer before continuing. 

“Now, I want to discuss the project that Brink had you working on before his passing.” Shetty said, “I understand you had it almost finished when Brink and I last spoke.” 

“Uh,” (Y/N) nodded. “Yeah, it’s finished now. I was on my way to give it to him when-” 

When Luke killed him. 

Shetty nodded solemnly, pity clear in her eyes as she looked at the boy in front of her. “Of course. If it’s not too much to ask, would you mind dropping it off to me as soon as you find the time.” 

“Sure.” 

“Wonderful.” Shetty smiled. She looked like she wanted to pull the young adult in for a hug, but decided against it and patted his shoulder instead. She turned her back on (Y/N), and while she didn’t dismiss him verbally (Y/N) could tell she was finished with their conversation. 

He didn’t bother saying goodbye as he left the room.

Meet us at Luke’s room. 

(Y/N) tried to ignore the message, truly he did. 

After his last class, he returned to his room, took his pants off, and crawled into bed. But as he sat there in the dark, his unfinished school work staring at him from across the room, and the voices of Luke and Brink in his head that had started to talk to him now that he’d laid off some of the more hardcore drugs, he realized he wasn’t doing himself any favors by not seeing what Andre wanted. 

He tugged a pair of sweats on, walking up the steps of his building to where Luke’s room is- was- and found Cate and Andre waiting for him by Luke’s door. He opened his mouth the comment on Cate’s appearance but the words were quickly halted by the state of Luke’s door. 

The word murderer was crudely written across it in spray paint the color of blood. 

When Luke died (Y/N) had been covered in his blood. It had soaked into clothes that he never got back and the water ran red for what seemed like forever when he’d showered that night. Did Brink bleed when Luke killed him? He’d been burnt to a crisp when (Y/N) went to go identify the body, but did Luke beat him up a bit first? How angry was he at Brink? Why hadn’t (Y/N) noticed? Why didn’t he stop him? Why di- 

“(Y/N).” Andre’s touch upon his shoulder snapped him out of his thoughts, and (Y/N) blinked. “You okay?” 

“Yeah,” (Y/N) said, coming back to himself in small increments. “Sorry.” 

“It’s fine.” Andre was giving him a look (Y/N) had become all too familiar with in the past week. He brushed his hand off his shoulder, pushing past Andre and opening the door to Luke’s room. 

“Where is all Luke’s stuff?” Was the first thing out of Cate’s mouth as the door opened. (Y/N) stepped into the now-empty room, taking a good look at the shelves that had been stripped of their memories. 

“They cleared it out.” 

Luke used to have a picture of their high school graduation on his desk. (Y/N) had gotten a record amount of honors cords and looked a bit silly with the rainbow of string around his neck, but Luke had been proud of him. So had Brink, although he had made it clear that it was what was expected of him. 

“Who?” 

He’d hung up a pride flag on the wall of his childhood home when (Y/N) came out to him in the tenth grade. He was scared shitless of what Luke would say, even more so than he had been coming out to Brink, but Luke had just smiled and wrapped him in a tight hug. The flag came with Luke every time he moved. It was gone now. 

“Fuck if I know.” 

They were always stealing each other’s clothes, a habit carried over from the years (Y/N) had spent at his birth parents' house without proper items of clothing. Their friends had always joked that they should just share a closet with how often the other was returning or borrowing a shirt or a pair of pants. Half of (Y/N)'s wardrobe was gone now. 

“They wouldn’t even let me get my shit.” (Y/N) said, spinning in a circle to get a proper look at the bare room. “All our photos, my clothes, all of it’s gone.” 

“Smells like bleach in here.” Andre commented, wrinkling his nose. 

“Why would they do that?” Cate asked. “What the fuck is going on?” 

The smell of bleach was making (Y/N)'s stomach turn, and his breath was coming in short gasps as he took in the soulless room. “I can’t be here.” 

He rushed out of the room, followed by Andre and Cate. He turned the corner, taking the steps two at a time as Andre and Cate called for him. He threw the door open when he reached the ground floor, bracing himself on the brick wall as he gasped for breath. 

“(Y/N).” Andre said, approaching him as one might approach a skittish animal. “(Y/N), it’s alright.” 

“All of his stuff-” (Y/N) said, hyperventilating. “They took all of it, Andre.” 

“I know.” Andre took a step closer. 

“Those were his memories, my memories. And they just erased it!” (Y/N) threw his fist out, hitting the brick wall with a sharp crack. He groaned as the fingers in his hand broke and reset within seconds, Cate gasped at the gruesome sight. “It’s like he never existed. But he did, and I remember him. I remember all of it, Andre.” 

Andre placed a hand on (Y/N)'s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “They can’t make you forget him.” 

“I won’t.” 

“I know.” Andre said, rubbing soothing circles into the boy’s shoulder. “I know you won’t.” 

“You know what I just realized,” Cate said later after (Y/N) had calmed down and Andre had coerced them both into a walk around campus. “Luke’s desk drawer was full of dildos. They’re all gone too.” 

(Y/N) snorted, unable to help the soft giggles that escaped him at the thought of the face of whoever had opened that drawer. His thoughts strayed a bit to what Luke used those dildos for, but he shoved that thought far into the back of his mind before he could dwell too long on it. 

“Some security guard is not gonna shit straight for a week,” Andre said, before he stopped dead in his tracks. 

“What?” Cate asked, and Andre nodded his head toward the campus security cameras. (Y/N) looked up, immediately seeing what had made Andre pause. 

“Security camera’s melted.” Andre said. 

“Did you do that?” 

“No.” Andre frowned. “Something hot did.” 

(Y/N) hummeed in agreement, before Andre’s posture straightened and he made a beeline for the camera. 

“Your dad has it.” 

(Y/N) took off after Andre, Cate expressed her confusion in the boy’s action before ultimately following after them. 

“It was the last thing that Luke said to me.” Andre called back to them as he continued to run. 

“You never told us the last thing Luke said to you.” Cate turned to (Y/N) as she spoke as if expecting his agreement with her statement. But the memory of Luke’s whisper against his ear before he died was replaying in (Y/N)'s head and he didn’t respond. 

“Didn’t make sense I thought he was fucking crazy.” Andre continued, coming to a stop in front of the campus statue of his father. “But I think he hid something in here.” 

Andre climbed up onto the pedestal of the statue, crouching down and focusing. He grunted as he extended his hand and the metal began to pull itself apart. After a few creaks and groans from the statue Andre had successfully made a hole big enough to fit his hand in. 

“That is really Freudian.” Cate commented, causing (Y/N) to roll his eyes. 

“Really?” Cate just shrugged. 

Andre pulled his hand out from where he was searching the statue, revealing a black phone (Y/N) had never seen before. He passed it to (Y/N), who examined it carefully. The battery was dead so (Y/N) couldn’t open it to see its contents, but the exterior looked enough like an average phone for him to feel confident in shrugging his shoulders and handing it back to Andre. 

“We should charge it and see what’s on it.” 

The walk back to Andre’s dorm was silent. Cate tried at first to fill the silence with questions about what Luke could possibly have gained from hiding the phone if they were going off the assumption that the phone was indeed what Luke had been referring to. But (Y/N) and Andre were too focused on their own thoughts to reply to her. 

Andre plugged the phone in and after a few seconds on the charger it powered on. It wasn’t password protected, and a video of Luke was still open when Andre unlocked it. Andre looked around the room for approval, and when both (Y/N) and Cate gave him a nod he pressed play. 

“Okay.” Luke on the screen said, pacing around what looked to be his dorm room. “If you’re watching this I guess things got fucked. Okay, I know this sounds crazy, but they have my brother.” 

(Y/N) tensed, unnoticed by Cate and Andre whose sole focus was on the screen in front of them. 

“He’s not dead. He’s underneath the school. They call it the Woods. It’s like this fucked-up hospital or something. They did messed-up things to him and to me.” Luke paused. “And- uh- and to (Y/N).” 

(Y/N)'s breath hitched at Luke’s mention of him, his breath quickening. 

“And Brink-” Luke paused again, looking pained as he spoke. “Brink is a part of this. I’m going to go in there right now. I’m going to make him give me my brother back.” 

Oh Luke. 

“If you’re seeing this I guess things got pretty fucked. I’m sorry. Help Sam and (Y/N) if you can, please. I love you, Andre. Tell Cate I love her, too.” Luke was looking directly at the camera as he spoke. “And if (Y/N)'s watching this- I- I’m sorry I love you.” 

Cate and Andre began speaking to each other in rushed panicked tones when the video ended, but (Y/N)'s ears were ringing and he couldn’t breathe deep enough so he didn’t catch what they were saying until Cate said- 

“Schizophrenia runs in families.” 

“Luke was not schizophrenic.” (Y/N) snapped, unable to prevent the venom that laced his words. 

“Then how would you explain this?” Cate said, returning his tone. Her eyes were measuring him carefully. “Do you know what he’s talking about? I mean he mentioned you.” 

“No.” (Y/N) shook his head, whole body shaking.“I don’t- I don’t know what he’s talking about.” 

“I mean he was partying with us the night before and he seemed happy.” Cate turned back to Andre, leaving (Y/N) out of their conversation. “Why wouldn’t he tell us? Why wouldn’t he tell (Y/N)?” 

The two began to argue, speaking over each other, and (Y/N) got up from his seat. On shaking legs he darted out of the room, desperate for fresh air and possibly a line. When the two young adults didn’t immediately come after him he began to make the walk back to his room. 

He passed the crimefighting building on his walk, and paused. 

He shouldn’t. 

He could. There was no doubt about that. 

But he shouldn’t. 

He did. 

He walked through the crimefighting building on edge, jumping at every slight sound. He took a deep breath as he approached Brink’s old office, pushing the door open and cringing as it creaked. Brink’s office had remained untouched, which only furthered his anger about the state of Luke’s cleaned-out dorm. 

He took a seat at Brink’s desk, a chair he had sat in countless times throughout his childhood. Brink had always liked bringing him to campus to show him off to his colleagues and his students. 

“This kid is half your age and yet his intelligence is on levels you can only hope to one day reach.” He used to say to them, smiling proudly as (Y/N) preened under the attention. That was before (Y/N) began to waste his potential when Brink was actually proud to call him his son. 

‘I wonder what you think of my intelligence now, Brink.’ (Y/N) thought as he unlocked the computer, sifting through hundreds of folders until he came across the one he was looking for. As he opened the folder the door opened, causing him to freeze. 

It was just Andre. 

(Y/N) breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the boy, and Andre began to laugh 

“What are you doing here? (Y/N) hissed at the boy, as glad as he was that it was only Andre catching him breaking into his dead father’s computer he still did not want him around. 

“Same thing as you.” Andre said, coming around the desk to lean over (Y/N)'s shoulder and watch what he was doing. “Is that it?” 

“Yeah.” (Y/N) said, scrolling through the countless photos and documents until he came across a familiar face. “Fuck.” 

Sam.

A video of Sam, very much alive, dated just a few days ago. 

“What?” 

“That’s Sam.” (Y/N) reached for his phone, taking a picture of the screen. He would’ve preferred transferring the documents over to his phone, but he wanted to get out of the room as quickly as he could. 

“No way, that’s the guy who-” 

Andre never finished his sentence, as the sound of voices caused them both to freeze. (Y/N) cursed, closing out of the folder and slamming the computer shut. He grabbed Andre and dragged them both under the desk. 

The door to the room opened, and footsteps surrounded them. 

“Don’t bother with that shit.” A voice said. “Just files and the computer. Grab the hard drive from the security office and meet me downstairs.” 

(Y/N) and Andre watched each other with wide panicked eyes as the guards took what they needed from the room in silence. (Y/N) could only hear what they were doing, he held his breath as the footsteps got closer and removed the computer from the desk. Eventually, they retreated and the door slammed shut. 

Andre scrambled out from under the desk, followed closely behind by a confused (Y/N). 

“Andre where the fuck are you going?” (Y/N) whispered as Andre began to follow the guards through the halls. 

“Following them.” (Y/N) rolled his eyes at the boy's answer. 

“Andre, get back here.” (Y/N) grabbed his arm, halting him. “We’re not fucking heroes.” 

“I am going to follow them, either come with me or go home.” Andre said, prying himself from (Y/N)'s grip, and continuing on his journey. 

(Y/N) cursed under his breath, but followed the boy anyway. Their trail eventually led them down into the basement of the crimefighting building, just as Luke said it would. Andre froze in front of him, and (Y/N) paused. He peered around Andre, watching as a janitor was shot dead by the guards at the bottom of the steps. 

Andre gasped, and a guard’s head snapped toward their direction. (Y/N)'s hand shot out the grab Andre’s shoulder, pulling him back toward him. 

“The hell was that?” 

“Hey.” A guard snapped at the other. “Greg’ll clean up later. Let’s go.” 

They left, and Andre immediately took off down the steps. He looked over the dead janitor's body, and then toward where the guards would have presumably left. Except there was no door left for Andre and (Y/N) to see. 

“Oh, shit.” Andre said, and (Y/N) nodded. 

“Hey!” Someone called out behind them, and Andre immediately jumped into position. Throwing his hand out, it did no good as the guard pulled out a device and a painful sound began to pierce (Y/N)'s ears. He doubled over in pain and the guard laughed. 

“Did you know supes have a wider range of hearing than us?” The guard turned the sound up higher, causing (Y/N) to stifle a scream at the pain in his ears. “Like dogs.” 

It felt as if knives were slamming themselves into (Y/N)'s eardrums, and he could feel the blood that had started to drip from his ears onto his fingers. His knees gave out from the pain and hit the concrete floor with a thud. (Y/N) couldn’t feel the pain radiating in now bruised knees over the pain in his ears. The feeling of his eardrums beginning to heal themselves only to rupture again began to drive him slowly mad until it all of a sudden stopped. 

The sudden change in pain made him dizzy, and he collapsed onto his back. He looked up at his saviour, too tired to laugh at the sight of Cate stumbling down the steps toward them. 

“Guys, we need to go.” Cate said, all but collapsing into Andre’s arms. 

“Your eyes.” Andre said, his voice just a tad too loud due to the damage to his ears. “You’ve been pushing too much.”

“I’m fine. I’m totally-” Cate fell unconscious, prompting (Y/N) to push himself up from his spot on the floor and dart over to where Andre was holding a now convulsing Cate. 

“Oh shit, Cate!” Andre said, trying to shake the girl conscious. 

“Get her to my dorm.” (Y/N) said, helping Andre pick the shaking girl up. “I can’t heal her here.” 

With blood still trickling from both their ears, Andre and (Y/N) began to drag Cate up the steps. 

[multi-fandom-imagine]

A/n: it's been a while since I posted this idea but I am finally writing it. And ugh I am not happy with this 😩

Fem!Reader x which ever Jordan you like, i love them both so I couldn't pick.

It was known to everyone on campus who you were dating, Jordan made it known to anyone that approached a five mile radius from you. They were'r t blind, they could see how half the guy's looked at you. You'd even get a few looks from some of the girls too.

They didn't know why it bothered them so much, they knew you'd never leave them but sometimes that thought couldn't help but drift in their mind every once in a while. It was a concern they voiced to Marie though they never expected her to go to you with their insecurities. Their mind racing from what you might say but of course you didn't bat an eye, you just kissed their cheek then bounded off to your room to change.

Shaking their head, Jordan rubbed the back of their neck. They could still feel the warmth of your kiss on their cheek though they didn't have the chance to think it over as you rushed over to them with a bright smile on your face.

"Ready to go?"

Jordan gave you a teasing smile, their fingers clutching the edge of your dress they then pulled you in close. "We can stay here if you want. Make our own little show."

Rolling your eyes you returned the smile giving their cheek a playful pinch. "How about this, if you enjoy this walk down the path of lights with me then once we get back to our dorm then you can fuck all night long."

Tilting their head to the side, they licked their lips nodding their head. "I am holding you to that." Giving your hand a soft squeeze you two were off.

Smiling, you let your eyes rank over all the lights and though Jordan was smiling you can see some worry in their eyes. You knew what they must be thinking, why were you with them. Nibbling your lip you gave their hand a squeeze as you tugged Jordan to a smaller path of lights.

"You know Jordan, I don't want a lot for Christmas."You gave them a smile rocking on your heels.

"Oh?" Jordan gave you a teasing grin. "And prey tell me, what is this one thing you'd like?" They asked resting their head on yours.

Grinning, you playfully stuck your tongue out at them. "Well there is just one thing I need, annnnnd I don't really care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree."

Jordan chuckled shaking their head as they gave your hand a light squeeze. "Are you gonna get to the point." They teased.

Humming, you stood on your toes letting your lips brush theirs. "I will."

Giving them another kiss you pulled back then rested your head against their chest to listen to their steady heart beat. "I just want you for my own Jordan,More than you could ever know." You wanted to make sure they understood how much you loved them. That they were important to you. "So, will you make my wish come true? And be the only thing I want for Christmas?"

Jordan tensed then relaxed as they pulled you into their chest, a small laugh escaped their lips. Clearing out their throat they cupped your cheeks as they pulled you in for a kiss under the twinkling lights.

"I love you, you know that right?" They muttered agains't your lips before pulling away. "I will be more than happy to be your little present." They teased.

Sighing, you quickly hid your face into their chest, a smile on your face to hide the warmth. "Good." You muttered. It was a beautiful night, with all the lights are shining so brightly, children laughing as they rushed to each spot to look at the display.

But you did not care, because you had someone you love in your arms.