Can you do a imagine that Jordan girlfriend fights someone while the team playing football (All American)
Authors Note: There’s a little bit of language in this, but not tons! Thank you so much for your support. Sorry for the wait but I hope you enjoy!
Being Jordan Bakers girlfriend came with many perks, although it came with its downfalls too. Every moment that the two of you spent alone was almost always sheer perfection. But Jordan was popular and QB1, which meant that in public he was almost always in the spotlight.
And as his girlfriend, that resulted in you also being in the spotlight. You two were regarded as the power couple who were the definition of couple goals.
Half the population or at least all the females at the school had their eye on Jordan. You could see why of course. Jordan Baker, in your very humble opinion, was the hottest guy in school.
He’d get a million stares, girls coming up to him and literally petting him. Random gifts in his lockers, some girls even claimed he was her girlfriend. OT was terrible, but what could you really do?
Jordan would try to shut it all down of course, but he couldn't control the whole of Beverly High’s female population.
You’re at Jordans football game currently, and wearing Jordans jersey as usual. Beverly is up by a single point in the third quarter, the Eagles are fighting to keep the lead.
It’s their ball, Jordan is most likely hoping to hit Asher on a slant. The ball is snapped, it flies right into his large hands and he drops back, his head swirling to look for someone thats open. Asher’s there, streaking down the right of the field. His arm is extended and Jordan hits him, Asher then prances right on in to the end zone.
The crowd erupts into cheers and so do you. You launch up from your seat, praising your boyfriend. “Go Jordan!”
And then a few rows up, you see it. There’s a girl wearing his jersey, bouncing and cheering. It’s a fake jersey. But still.
“I love you Jordan baby!” She screams at the top of her lungs. Her sign is abandoned at her feet because she’s waving something in the air. You start when you realize when you realize what to is.
There was no doubt about it. She had gone into the locker room and broken into his locker. That’s his hoodie, the one that he had worn when he arrived at the field with the team. Jordan always locked his locker, you knew that for a fact.
Before you can even think about what you're doing you're pushing past people so you can get to the bleacher stairs.
Your mind is flashing you the warning signs, though you aren't acknowledging them per the fact that you push one last person out of the way and there she is. You draw your hand back, and then you sock her in the nose.
She reels back shocked and the people in the stands around her gasp. She looks up at you, roaring in fury and shock because she knows who you are. SHe’s clutching her nose, blood pours through her fingers.
“What the h-” She starts to say but her eyes land on your jersey and her fury doubles. “YOU!”
She launches forward, going for your hair with a talon-like grasp. “HE’S MINE!”
How dare she? You move in on her, seeing red. How. Dare. She. Your fight instincts kick in.
Distantly you hear the onlookers chanting, “Fight, fight, fight!”
You use your nails as claws, scratching at her face, arms, anything that you can reach. Her hair that had been flowing freely, is something that you can grab and yank and every time her defenses fo down, you’re quick to throw in a punch.
“You bitch!” You yell at her, just as you’re swept off of your feet. Your elbow flies backwards and collides with something hard. “Y/N! Y/N!”
It’s Jordans voice you realize, and you calm down in his arms.
The girl is curled up in a corner, glaring at you, two things that seem to totally contradict each other.
“He’s mine!” She shrieks again.
“Actually, I’m Y/N’s.” Jordan says in her direction and then chuckles down at you. “My little warrior.”
Then for emphasis he bends and kisses you gently. Coach Baker hollers for his son. Your boyfriend leaves you with one last kiss, his long legs easily carrying him back to the field.
You turn back to the girl and rip her sign in half, then you grab Jordans hoodie. (You may have to burn the thing because she touched it).
“Hand the jersey over too.”
She's reluctant but everyone on the bleachers is staring at her.
“You know, on second thought, keep it. It’s fake. Just like you.”
Her face turns even more red if that’s even possible, the crowd ooooohs. You turn on your heel and strut away. Serves her right.
