#jordan li headcanon

[inklore]

SEX WITH JORDAN IS TWO VERY DIFFERENT EXPERIENCES.

Solely depending on which form they shift into during or before.

When they're in their female form, they’re a top with a touch of submission, like the minute you whisper in their ear what you want to do to them, they’re switching to that submissive side. 

They’re letting you climb on top of them, letting you take complete control. Letting you kiss down their body, smiling down at you when your teeth bite into the flesh of their tits. Your tongue smoothing over the mark you’ve just made.

Sucking on the skin, knowing they’ll have to walk around for weeks with your mark on them. They'll complain about it, but you catch them smiling at in the mirror when they’re getting dressed. 

Letting you make them come against your mouth twice before they can’t stand it anymore and they’re groaning, pulling you up by the cheeks to kiss you with passion, teeth, and tongue. Moaning at their own taste as they push your back into the mattress. 

The roles quickly switched. 

Jordan never passes up the chance to be in complete control. To have their fingers between your thighs, watching the way your body arches and rolls to the pleasure they’re giving you as their thumb rubs your clit and their fingers fuck your pussy, deep, and rhythm with the buck of your hips. Their mouth on your neck, moving across your chest to close their lips around your nipple. 

They feel almost powerful with the knowledge—with seeing how they can make you feel—that they can bring out those weak-pleasure-fueled noises from you, that if they curl their fingers, you’ll be clinging to them, begging and pleading, breathing into their mouth like it’s your last one, like if they don’t let you come, you’ll go insane. Like you’re their saint, and you only need absolution from them. 

And when they have their cunt pressed to yours, palm pressed under your chin, against your neck, to keep your eyes on them, their words come out heavy and heated, “it’s only me, right? Only I can make you feel like this? Can make you come this hard?”, your answer wrapped around a pretty moan, fingers digging into their hips to press them harder against you—they feel invincible. 

But when they’re in their male form, it’s different. They’re different. They lose that dominant edge and shift into something more lenient. Something akin to a service top, with submission hanging at the cusp. 

They’ll still lace their fingers with yours and press them into the mattress, making you feel like they’re the ones in control. Like they could do whatever they want to your body and know you’d love it and ask for more. 

But deep down, you both know you’re the one in control. 

You’re the one that’s driving them completely insane. That they want to please. Make come over and over until your thighs are wet and sticky, and they lap it up with their tongue. Use the head of their cock to gather the slick at your entrance and rub it against your clit. Make you come one more time just by using the tip of their cock. 

Your begs for them to stick it in, “please, Jordan, please,��� one of the prettiest things they’ve heard. 

Making them smile against your lips as they squeeze your chin between your thumb and pointer to bring your mouth up to theirs. 

“Anything for you,” they say against your open mouth as they slip their cock into your heat. The slow stretch makes your nails dig into the side of their arm. 

The thrusts and speed of their hips all dependent on what you want. What you moan and whimper into their skin, mouth. How your body moves against there’s, underneath it, with it. How your pussy squeezes them. 

“Come for me, one more time, I promise,” the wet squelch of their cock fucking you matched with the fingers drawing circles against your clit undoing you. 

And when you switch positions, when you take the reigns and wrap your lips around the tip of their cock, letting your tongue lap up your own come, that’s when that submissive side comes out. 

The whimpers heaved out of Jordan’s lungs, the push of their hips off the bed, driving their cock deeper into your throat. Their brows pinched together, eyes glossy, needy. Fingers on your cheek, your head, in the bed sheets. 

It’s fucking beautiful. 

They’re fucking beautiful. 

“Let me fuck your throat. Can I–fuck–can I fuck your throat, baby?” 

“Please.”

“Yes, please.” 

Their fingers dig into the side of your skull, the closer they are to coming. But even that’s soft. The thrusts fucking up into your mouth are hurried, fast, and hard, but still softer than they could be. Still gentle in that careful way of Jordan wanting you to enjoy this just as much as they are. 

When they come down your throat, they watch you swallow. Their eyes watching your throat move, lips twitching in a soft smile. A hand cupping the back of your neck to bring you against their chest to lay. A finger under your chin to lift your head far enough for them to lean down and kiss you. 

[hughiecampbelle]

Dating Jordan And Having The Power Of Perfection Would Include:

Requested: Hey❤️!! Since your request are open I wanted to request something w/ Jordan Li. Jordan and Reader are dating & reader’s power of being perfect. Sorry if it’s too complicated and I do absolutely love your writing! - anon

A/N: I had this book as a kid where this family had powers and the mums was perfection and idk, it's so nostalgic 💕 I did make it a little darker so it's more in line with the universe. Thank you for requesting my love! I hope you like it! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

At first, Jordan hated you

The two of you were in constant fight to secure the second place/third place spots

Because of your abilities, you had perfect grades, perfect essays, perfect technique in fighting and training

You weren't exceptionally strong or indestructible, but you always knew the perfect way to take down your opponent

At events, your clothes and hair and jokes and words, everything was perfect.

You were the perfect face of God U besides Golden Boy

Your powers were non-threatening and would probably win you several jobs after graduation that others could only dream of - many of them for Vought

They could always use someone like you

You and Jordan met through Luke. When he said you were perfect, they thought he was kidding. When they met you, they realized who you were, and it instantly clicked: you weren't just good at what you did, it was impeccable

Because you were in constant fight for second place, because it was almost daily that your places changed and swapped, they thought of you as competition

It isn't until a gala do they see you as a person instead of a set of statistics and characteristics they have to be better than

You're all smiles talking to a group of older men, laughing when you should, making fun of them just enough so that they don't feel threatened. When they leave, you drop the facade, taking a drink off a silver platter and sitting beside them. Jordan notices this change, scooting closer to you, trying to sound nonchalant

"I didn't know you could have rough nights." They joke

You try to play it off, coming up with the perfect excuse, but they say you, they knew better than to believe you

You and Jordan bond over your equally terrible night: they open up about their parents wanting them to be one way when they're much happier as they are. You tell them about the growing pressures of your perfection

In elementary school it was a bit of a joke: you were a straight A student, you were good at whatever you tried no matter the experience level, you made friends easily. Your parents joked you were the best child they could ask for

When middle school hit, things started to change. The powers had been there since you were a baby (you rarely cried, you ate everything and never spit up, you were happy and easy and bubbly) but now you were old enough to realize you were different from everyone else. You picked up instruments you'd never touched before and was able to play them perfectly. Sports you had zero interest or experience in came easy to you. You tried to fail tests and mess up speeches and start fights, but something in you took over, something controlled you and made you do and say the right thing

By high school you weren't studying for tests or doing any of your course readings. You joined every club and extracurricular, showing up only when necessary. You slept through classes and tried to party as much as possible, but your body rejected every bad choice you put it through: you aced tests, you were exceptional in all your activities, even the alcohol you drank wouldn't touch you. You were always perfectly sober

You wanted so badly to fail, but it went against your nature

You weren't surprised when you got into God U. You had the best GPA, you wore so many chords at your graduation you lost count, you were exhausted from perfection. You needed a change and you hoped college would be that change

Jordan hadn't realized how confining perfection could be

You couldn't help but answer questions in class, your arm shot up, the words came out compulsively. There was no controlling it

After this, they see you so much more different than they initially thought

Jordan seeks you out after that, losing their typically cold exterior for a nicer, softer one

They used to blame you for their shortcomings, but now they realize it's quite literally out of your control

Hanging out more with Jordan

They kind of insert themselves into your life more, finding you between classes, switching seats to be near you, offering to help you with your physical combat. It's kind of a silly excuse, but they'd do anything to get to know you better

Despite not needing their help in combat, you say yes anyways

You love watching them switch between their powers

That is kind of your first unofficial date and, afterwards, they ask you out on a real one

You are, of course, perfect and they can't help but fall for you

Luke is the first to ask if you're dating or not

When you didn't have classes with Jordan, you had them with Luke, who couldn't help but notice the change in Jordan

They used to get so annoyed when he brought you up. Now? Now they were all smiles

Andre definitely made fun of the both of you (nicknaming you The Perfect Couple)

It earned him a punch in the arm, but there was no denying your perfection

Cate was glad to have another couple in the friend group

Eventually meeting Jordan's parents who love you instantly

"Y/n is pretty perfect." They say, only half-joking

Studying together all the time, your dates are pretty academia focused. When you're not worrying about grades and still fighting for the second place slot, Jordan is showing you off at the clubs in your teeny tiny, skin tight outfits

Despite being perfectly sober, you can still have a good time

They can't keep their hands off you when you dance together

Jordan isn't big on PDA, but they get jealous sooo easily and that's when they become handsy

Because you're perfect in every way, you find that a lot of people develop crushes on you. You make sure Jordan knows they're the only one for you

You love how driven they are, how passionate they are

You've never minded their powers and always want them in whatever form they take

To you, they are perfect. Yours might be compulsive, but they're all natural

Jordan comes to you with almost anything

When they see what Brink does to Luke, they keep it a secret, not wanting your perspective of them change because they'd rather stick with their mentor than their friend

You know nothing about what's going on the school. To you, everything is perfectly normal

[gwynfahr]

Do we think Jordan has siblings ?

Because during episode 3, their dad was saying "You are my firstborn son", which implies that Jordan's not his only "son". If so, then Jordan has younger siblings. I wonder how they're placed in the family's problem of Jordan's parents not being accepting of their gender identity.

I personally feel like they would be accepting since it's been like that for a long time, if we're thinking about the fact Marie developing her powers at the time she got her period (so around probably 11/14 years old) is considered late. So Jordan has probably always been bigender to them, not just a boy.

Plus, can you imagine how Jordan would be with their siblings, like always hyping them up in whatever they're doing and supporting and validating them in a way that would make them feel more accepted that they were ?

I'm also thinking about how the sentence "You're my firstborn son" ticked in my head and made me think about the fact Jordan's family is probably very traditional about legacy. Like Firstborn son ? Who says that nowadays ? I think Jordan comes from a wealthy family, that's like passing the legacy from father to son, or something.

Or maybe I'm going too far on this one...

[yameoto]

HELL IS A (FUCKING) ROOMMATE. JORDAN LI.

synopsis ; your roommate has the libido of a goddamn animal and it's driving you insane. not to mention the fact they have an annoying habit of jerking off in your dorm. to you.

they want you? fine—they can have you. only on your terms, though.

✗ warnings ; dom!reader, sub!jordan. fem!reader, perv!roomate!jordan, dubcon, voyeurism, excessive masturbation (soz). wc ; 4.2k

YOU can do this. you can do this.

you grunt as you fumble for the key. cursing as, with an extreme lack of coordination—you begin to forcibly ram the bloody thing into the lock with the grace and precision of a sledgehammer. what you lack in motor control you make up for with inner beauty—or something.

the do not disturb sign rattles mockingly off the handle, meaning your roommate is definitely inside and definitely not helping out. you grit your teeth, entire body off kilter as you're preoccupied with balancing the boxes cramful of belongings in your arms; big and bulky and absolutely not helping your aim. you curse, loudly as they almost almost tumble out of your grasp the moment the key miraculously jams into place, jerking wildly to catch them. (note: super strength does not come with super-hand-eye-coordination.)

“fucking– stupid- key– fucking better– woah!” 

without warning, the door swings open, inwards. a montage of your entire life flits before your eyes as you hurtle forward, boxes and all. you just about barely manage to catch yourself with an undignified stumble before drawing yourself up; coming face to face with—oh.

two figures. bodies very noticeably.. inside. each other. naked. on, what you realise after a bout of disbelief; your fucking bed.

"what the fuck?"

one of them growls, mop of black hair flopping as their head snaps up, even though you're pretty sure you should be the one slinging expletives around. with a frustrated scowl they pull out of the dude, sending a withering glare to the poor guy they were fucking into the bedspread—to which he.. disappears? glitches out? phases out of existence? because suddenly he’s not there anymore, and you’re stranded alone with a very attractive, very threatening looking college student. 

who is also—uh, very, very naked.

“um, hi–”

“why do you have a key to my fucking dorm?”

oh, shit.

they are, frankly, gorgeous – like, one of the most beautiful people you've ever seen. their hair is black, mussed, and you can’t help the way your gaze follows its way down the threshold of an.. extremely muscled, slick torso before snapping upwards to find a mildly paralysing glare that reminds yourself that you are not in a very good position right now.

“i’m uh- your new.. roommate?'' you don't mean for it to come out like a question, but by the way they're staring down at you like you're a cockroach that just flew onto their windshield, you almost aren't so sure.

"i'm a fucking TA— i don't have roommates." their eyes narrow, which is like—alright, way to be real welcoming.

“i’m a.. last minute transfer..?” you offer, wincing as you meet their stare. their eyes are unflinching, yet still lidded in a post-sex haze. you can feel your body involuntarily holding its breath; though from the steel in their gaze or the way their biceps flex when they run a hand through their dishevelled locks, you can’t tell. 

fuck, you hate hot people.

“oh, yeah. fuck, i forgot about that.” their shoulders slacken, mouth settling into an unimpressed line; which is only slightly more welcoming than the look of murderous intent of two seconds ago. “jordan. jordan li." they say, last name and all—which is how you know they're a prick. "make yourself at home, i guess.” they don’t sound all too enthused as they skirt away from the door, seemingly satisfied with the fact that you're not a home invader—dorm invader? whatever. you just pray that the sigh of relief you breathe isn’t audible.

“great! nice to meet you, i’m–”

“s’on the sheet." jordan cuts in with supreme disinterest as they move across the room, leaning down to pick their boxers from the floor. you’re struck once again with the realisation that they are still fucking naked, and you pointedly tear your eyes away. 

“um, yeah.. hey, uh—what’s your-”

“third year, crime-fighting. don't touch my shit. no pets, obviously. if you have a dog, get rid of it. give it to the animal shelter, don’t care. don’t snoop, don't make a mess, and definitely don’t take off the goddamn do not disturb sign. got it?”

you've barely opened your mouth to reply; probably with something along the lines of what the fuck? or animal shelter? before jordan's already turned away, back muscles flexing as they sink back onto the end of their bed, scrunching their briefs up in one hand and—

“hey, uh,” jordan interjects, turning round with an unreadable expression as they glance down, and like a fucking idiot, you follow; giving you front row seat to the massive, throbbing boner that they’re still sporting—pulsing an angry, flushed red as the tip drools with precum.

“mind if i take care of this? couldn’t exactly finish, if you know what i—”

you slam the door after you, and you swear a snicker follows you down the corridor. 

-

over the next week, it quickly becomes apparent that jordan either a): forgets you live in the same room as them, or b): simply does not care. 

for starters, there’s their apparent aversion to doing laundry until their entire closet is out of commission, the coke stash underneath their mattress and also—oh. their need to get their dick wet at least four times a day. (irrespective of whether they have a dick or not).

“what?” jordan scoffs through a mouthful of cereal. “‘m not lettin’ some fuckin’ freshie cockblock me.”

“i’m a transfer, not a fucking freshman.” you scowl, and jordan’s lips curl to form a lazy little ‘o’. it twitches upwards into that infuriating little smirk, like they enjoy seeing you squirm. 

“whatever. my libido stops for nobody, not even you. besides,” they set their bowl on the bedside table, wagging their fingers suggestively into a ‘V’ shape and licking the air between. "a bigender supe has needs too."

they’re slouching against their headboard, free arm stretching lazily above their head. your cheeks flush traitorously as their biceps flex—muscles visibly popping against their frame “you can just say 'a girl has needs'. i'm not an idiot, i know what you mean." is what you grumble back, if only to ignore the inane, stupid heat pooling in the pit of your stomach. 

"but i have needs when i'm a dude, too." jordan grins, propping themselves up by their elbow, eyes gleaming impishly as they curl their hand into a fist and making a fucking wanking motion over their (currently) non-existent dick. which is—yeah. that pretty much sums up your roommate for you.

the thing is about jordan, is despite all their excessive lockerroom talk and relatively abrasive personality; they’re still rank two in all of godolkin. ergo, they’re a surprisingly busy person; being preoccupied with either studying, sparring or partying ninety of the time. 

thus, like all horny, single college students, when you don’t have time to squeeze a good fuck in, you’re left with second-best option—yourself. this would otherwise be fine, except jordan’s compound v must have seeped through their bloodstream and into their libido because jesus fucking christ are they horny.

it’s not like they make an effort of hiding it, either. they seem to have zero qualms about rolling out of bed, morning wood popping out from their briefs like a fucking beacon. 

“oh, shit,” jordan yawns when slide the covers off, giving way to the immense boner throbbing against their boxer-briefs. they don’t even have the decency to look sheepish when they walk past you, adjusting themselves lazily. you don’t miss the grunt of relief that escapes them as their hand palms their crotch before they disappear into the bathroom, either. or the little groans of relief that sound behind the door before they saunter out, towelling their hands with the stupidest grin on their face.

it shouldn’t piss you off as much as it does, except for the fact that even when jordan rouses without morning wood (or wood in general); they end up making their usual bathroom trip anyways. noises slipping from a half-ajar door and toilet lid left slippery, as always. 

they have to be doing it on purpose. they have to be. like, they left their strap-on on your desk once. which, first of all, gross. second of all, why was it so fucking big?

“jordan!” you holler, aghast as you nudge the thing on your desk, conveniently placed right next to your laptop.

“oh! that’s where i left it. sick.” jordan grins as they saunter over, veined hands reaching over to wrap around the shiny, plastic length and fuck, since when were their palms so massive—

“thanks, roomie.” they ruffle your hair with an impish glint in their eyes, smile only growing when you jerk away with a scowl. 

and that’s not even the worst of it.

“oh, shit—was that yours?” to their credit, jordan looks somewhat sheepish as they pinch a rock-hard pair of socks off the floor. your fucking socks, which have clearly been well-loved and cared for in places other than your shoes. 

“those were my favourite!” they weren’t your favourites. they’re socks. however, it makes jordan wince, which almost makes it worth it. 

hey, a little remorse is better than nothing. 

“..i’ll buy you a new pair?” jordan offers, scratching the nape of their neck. you’re almost content to let the awkwardness linger just give them just a piece of the torture you’ve been subjected to for the past several weeks — except the sliver of satisfaction is completely negated by the way jordan’s lip twitches upwards, like they’re fighting back a smirk.

“you little fuck—“

anyways, the point is jordan wanks. a lot. 

you can’t stop thinking about it. because it’s annoying. and disrespectful. and god, do they think you want to hear every pretty little moan that falls from their mouth? every grunt and groan that slips from their throat in that raspy, godforsaken timber— 

long story short; if you have to find a wadded up sock or sticky residue at the bottom of the computer desk one more time, you’re going to lose it. 

you think jordan knows it, too.

-

it’s midnight when you wake up to the sound of a bed creaking.

you’re an early sleeper, jordan isn’t. it works. you’re typically long knocked out before they even make it back in the dorm, out there doing god knows what. today, though, you’d far overestimated your ability to finish your latest assignment; so when jordan finally staggered through the door, slumping into bed with a little grunt, you thought nothing of it.

minutes pass, and the bed shifts. jordan groans. under the moonlight you can see the shadowed visage of their figure, splayed out on their bed with one hand underneath the covers; moving, repeatedly.

jordan grunts again, and you squint; bleary eyes adjusting to the darkness. the muffled, wet sound of slapping resounds, subdued by the weight of the blanket. if you didn’t know better, you’d think they were—

“mm, fuck—” jordan moans, blanket slipping down their hips and—oh my fucking god.

like pulling back a curtain, jordan’s cock springs enthusiastically to the surface; standing tall and proud as their fist pumps up and down the thick, veined girth of their length. it’s practically pulsating with need, bordering on desperate—they must be desperate, because jordan’s shameless, sure, but.. jacking off in the same room as you? 

you didn’t think they were that much of a fucking perv.

but maybe you’re a perv too, because the moment jordan’s hips rock upwards and their tip glimmers in a thick sheen of pre-cum; you can feel the telltale surge of heat in your stomach, the fabric of your panties dampening and oh, this can’t seriously be happening right now.

“fuck—motherfucker..” jordan hisses, drawing your bleary-eyed gaze from the flushed, throbbing bob of their cock to their pink cheeks and fucked-out face, mouth lolling in pleasure. they twist their head, nosing into something tossed onto their pillow that makes you stop in their tracks.

that’s.. you thought you lost that!

“need ‘m—so—fucking bad..” jordan slurs stiltedly, nuzzling into your shirt like their life depends on it. “fuckin’—stupid fucking—”

your stomach tightens, and you can’t help it when your fingers dip down under your shorts, slipping into your cunt. you should be mad, should be disgusted, should be shoving open the door and ripping them out of their covers and.. wrapping your mouth around their adorably flushed tip? seizing their hips and yanking their cock into your tight, wet little—

"oh, fuck," jordan interrupts your thought process by growling through their teeth, precum spilling from the slit of their dick and glazing their palms. there’s so much of it, so wet that even in the dark you can see the stain pooling in their sweatpants, their bedsheets. 

you’re so entranced you barely even register when it when their grip releases; length arcing and splattering thick ropes of cum against their abdomen. the sight is so mesmerising that you almost don’t pick up on the sound of your fucking name that tears out of their throat—husky and half gargled as jordan’s chest heaves. you don’t even realise you’ve been holding your breath until jordan’s figure simply lays there, pants echoing in the silent room. 

they wrap your shirt around their dick and wipe it clean. it’s only when they murmur something unintelligible—burying their nose back into your jumper that you finally, finally turn away, fingers curling deep inside your cunt.

fucking hell.

-

the second time it happens, you are wide, wide awake. which unfortunately means you have no excuse for the minutes seared into your memory and sticky residue on your thighs.

granted, at first you didn’t know. as always, the bathroom door hangs carelessly agape. steam curls from the room, wafting up and dispersing in the stuffy dorm air. what lingers, however, is the fresh note of jordan’s shampoo, body wash, and something.. saltier, headier.

whatever. with nothing more than an arched brow, you pick over the discarded basketball shorts and tank tops that litter the floor, intending to kick the bathroom door shut and be on your way. it’s when your hand reaches out, closing around the cool metal that you see it.

jordan’s slumped against the slick shower wall, fingers buried knuckle-deep into their pussy.

oh, shit shit shit—

“shit..” jordan hisses, muscles working like well-oiled sprigs as they pump into their cunt, droplets of water trickling down their skin and pooling into the divots of their body. 

your hand tightens around the doorknob. god, their moans.. if they think the sound of the showerhead can disguise the filthy nothings spilling out of their mouth, they are very, very wrong. 

somewhere between the fuck’s and annoying’s and pretty fuckin’ prude’s their full-weight crumples against the shower wall, plush ass pressing up against steaming glass like some (high-quality) porn ad as they ram their fingers in one last time, free hand shooting out wildly to grasp at nothing before the shower wall splatters with something you only catch a glimpse of before you’re slamming the bathroom door, cheeks burning and fingers trembling. with a start, you realise you’ve almost wrenched the goddamn metal off.

the doorknob is always a little bit loose, after that. 

-

you’re getting ready for a party.

well, you’re supposed to be getting ready for a  party, hence the sultry eyeshadow, glossy press of your lips and sheer amount of skin laid bare. your crop-top is just a little bit too high, mini-skirt more than a little too short.

in reality? you’re enacting your fucking vegeance.

jordan likes you. it’s a fact that stares you right in the face. and if not a crush, it’s a massive, raging hard-on. for you—only you—citing a certain roommate’s post-nut ramblings you’ve heard one too many times. 

as it turns out, jordan becomes considerably less insufferable when you know you’re the only thing that gets their dick wet.

“how do i look?” you call, doing a little twirl. it’s impossible to keep the smirk off your face, skirt flipping very purposely upwards as you spin, revealing a tad more than they ever (usually) get to see. 

jordan glances up, and their breath fucking hitches.

bingo.

“what?” you cock your head, lashes batting innocuously as they stare. playing the oblivious role is just too sweet, especially when your eyes flicker down, just for a moment, and you can see the bulge in their sweatpants growing.

poor little jordan, hard because their roommate flashed a millisecond of ass.

“you look—good.” they grunt, tone carefully measured. their gaze lingers, only for another moment before they abruptly snap their vision back to their screen. an admirable effort, really. if only their cheeks were a little less red, cock a little less needy.

“well don’t flatter me too much,” you twist away, lips twitching upwards. feigning normalcy is easy, seeing as how you’ve been doing so ever since that first night. you're practically buzzing with anticipation when you make a big show of leaving the room, snarky comment and all.

and really, jordan could've waited for longer than two minutes before moaning that raspy, broken moan (you're so intimately familiar with) from behind the door.

your lips split into a grin, and when you slide the door back open, the look on jordan's face is so priceless you hope it'll be seared into your memory forever.

“shit!"

it’s undeniable, this time. you’re no longer a fly on the wall, and they’re no longer blanketed by the illusion of secrecy; caught red-handed with their cock in their fist and head on your pillow.

“wait—fuck—i can expl—!”

like clockwork, jordan's cock twitches as if in reaction, and a drop of fresh semen spurts from their tip before trickling down to join the messy puddle on their stomach. 

“i thought—fuck! you said you were going!” 

“that doesn’t sound like an apology to me.” 

you delight in the way jordan flushes, their breath hitching. they take a ragged breath before they make a valiant attempt to cover up their falter with aggression. "doesn't mean anything," they retort through gritted teeth, mustering up as much conviction as they can. 

it’s adorable, how much they pretend they don’t want you as if they don’t jack off to the smell of your sweatshirt every night. 

“shut the fuck up.” you roll your eyes, novelty of the movement finally wearing thin. you have needs too—and with a fluid movement, you slide onto the bed and yank their hips against yours, pulling them into a straddle over your torso.

jordan can't help but hiss at the sudden contact, hips jerking instinctively. "fuck, you're cold," they mutter under their breath, though there's no denying the thrill running through them; hips bucking forward into the touch of your cool fingers as they wrap around their hard member. it feels euphoric—the contrast between your heat and coldness heightening every single nerve ending in their body. the tip of their cockhead brushing against your belly button, dripping a thin line of hot, sticky fluid after it.

“go on.” you coo, eyebrows raised. 

jorda’s hands fly almost immediately to the hem of your skirt. so eager, like an impatient puppy. 

 before you curl your hand around their wrist, grip firm and punishing. 

they freeze, head cocking like a confused puppy. “huh?” they say, biting back a noise of complaint. they want you so bad its goddamn gruelling; their fingers twitching around nothing, screaming in impatience, let me fuck you, let me ruin you already. don’t you know how long i’ve been waiting? how long you’ve kept me fucking waiting?

of course you know. they don’t know that, though. 

“you’re not gonna do anything?” despite all their irritating, fratboy-esque bravado; jordan’s unable to prevent the whininess from seeping into their tone, hands tugging insistently at the hem of your skirt. their cock pulses, painful and needy.

“you have hands, don’t you?” your lips quirk at the way jordan’s expression drops and their mouth opens again, probably to protest until you yank their thighs open and press them forward, dick pressing flush against your torso. 

"unnhnnngh.." jordan grunts, gasping for air while trying to maintain eye contact with you—an impossible task considering how goddamn desperate they are. their free hand grabs hold of your waist, grinding sloppily as precum spurts all over your chest. “f-fuck off," they hiss, lips crashing against yours, teeth knocking at their eagerness.

“goddamn tease—” they groan, rutting against your torso, to no avail. they bury their face into your collar, utterly miserable, fingers twisting into the hem of your shirt. “just get the fuck on with it—ahnnn.. f-fuck—”

“so mouthy,” you tease, delighted at the mewl that slips past jordan’s lips when your hand wraps around their tip. their chain necklace swings wildly, bucking their hips desperately into your fist.

“hands feel so fuckin’ good,” jordan sputters, drooling almost as much as their dick is. their fumbling grasp finds purchase in your shoulders as they pump themselves into your hand; you barely even have to move, with them doing most of the work.

“need to be— inside—“ jordan grunts; glassy eyes blinking down at you like it’ll change your mind just like that. it’s cute, how they look when they’re not scowling or fucking smirking at you. it’s even cuter, the way they inhale sharply when you shake your head and deliver a cool “no, baby,” their back arching when you cup one of their balls and squeeze, forced into dismal acceptance with a keening whine. 

jordan’s movements are getting unsteady, now. eyes glazing over by the second. “y’gonna make me cum,” they slur, grip on your hips tightening. it only takes a moment before their movements stutter and they’re muttering “fuck fuck fuck oh, fuck!“ and a long, gargled moan rips from their throat and all of a sudden hands wrapped around cock are sinking in wet, sloppy heat; your fingers sliding knuckle-deep into their pussy with almost breath-taking ease.

“jesus christ!” jordan croons in sheer, unexpected pleasure as they feel you shove yourself inside them, cum spurting and squeezing out helplessly from between their walls and your fingers. they squirt so fucking messily, their leaking cock replaced by a cunt spilling out out all over your palm. 

“i didn’t—didn’t mean to—” they slur, panic two steps behind their mouth. struggling to sling anything coherent together with you kneading your fingers into their pussy like its goddamn putty. “oh?” you arch a brow, and jordan visibly flushes, moaning openly when your digits curl.

“can’t–don’t really—”

“what? fuck yourself?” is your reply, because you both know they fucking do; it’s not like you don’t how their pussy sounds when it’s sliding slick against their pillow, how your name sounds cried out, thick through the muzzle of your jumper.

it’s a dual guilty pleasure—you watch, they do. at this point, you can’t tell who’s the more perverted out of the two of you.

jordan. definitely jordan. 

“too busy humping my clothes, is that it?” you purr, and jordan honest to god whimpers, squirming away from your fingers both out of overstimulation and plaintive shame. “ah, ah,” you tut, nails digging into their hips as you hold them in place, finger thumbing harshly against their clit as they cry out a gargled moan. 

“f-fuck off—” jordan hisses, practically an admission of guilt itself. they seem to know it, too, with the way they abandon all pretence and pound violently against your knuckles—their gaze burning into yours like they’re daring you to say another word. “don’t act like you didn’t—shit—fucking like it.” jordan gasps out between sputters, teetering on the edge of another orgasm.

“hm?” you pause, eyes meeting jordan’s heated, quivering stare. “jerk off to watching me?” they choke, eyes glossing over when you thrust “did you fuck yourself to my—mmhnn—!” 

an easy, all-too-familiar eye roll graces your face before you shut them up with your fingers. their pussy clenches; hot, slippery walls gripping your digits as if afraid to let go. oh, this is too easy.

“don’t get cute with me, roomie.” the nickname tastes sweet on your tongue, and jordan’s face grows hotter. a well-timed thumb to their clit flickers their bravado out like a light. “fucking hell!” they gasp, mouth gaping into a moan and eyes rolling back into their skull.

“you wanted me to watch, didn’t you?” you coo, and jordan squirms; mouth open in protest—or at least attempts at them, what with the way they keep gasping out in pleasure as you roll your fingers against their clit. 

“shut the fuck—i didn’t—”

“a pervert and a liar now, are we?”

jordan makes a noise somewhere between a hiss and a whine, crying out when you slide two more fingers into the slick canal of their core. their eyes screw shut, hands seizing so wildly into the mattress you almost think they’re about to tear a hole through the bedsheets.

“god! fuck—i can’t—”

they cry out your name when they cum, and even if its a sound you’ve heard countless times by now you don’t think it’ll ever get old. “that’s it, baby.” you coo, lips curling upwards at the way they bury their face into your collar.

they lie there, panting, for what feels like forever before a muffled, half-delusional groan leaves their lips.

“oh, fuuuckk..”

“what?”

“..i thought i would top.”

[lavend3r-stardust]

Jordan's rough hands gripping your hips as they fuck you in their masc form, your hands clinging to the edge of the counter as your head rolls back to rest in the crook of jordan's neck, their deep groan reverberating low in your ears as they whisper about "you're taking me so so good, Princess . . . I bet you've missed my cock, huh? My pretty girl's all fucked out me . . . That's my good girl-"

Jordan's praises spur you on, drive you closer and closer to the edge before you feel them shift into their fem form, their hands softer as they smack your ass, and you whine when you feel your pussy clench against nothing. "I got you, baby," Jordan croons. "I'll make you feel good. Why don't you turn around for me?"

Jordan flips you around to wrap their arms around your waist, helping you up as you sit against the edge of the counter. You watch the hazy glint in Jordan's eyes deepen as they bring your legs up to your chest, parting them slowly to dip their head betwen your thighs so they can devour your hot sticky cunt.

"Jordan, fuuck- pleasepleaseplease" you whine, grinding your hips into their face as they plunge two fingers into your hole, curling them inside your gummy walls as your thighs twitch on either side of their head.

"Please what, sweetheart? What do you want me to do?" They say, fingers pumping in and out of your sopping cunt, making the sexiest, wettest sounds as they bring their tongue to flick around your clit.

"Fuck~ !!" Your hips roll against Jordan's mouth as their hands keep a firm grip on your inner thighs, littering them with bite marks and kisses hard enough to bruise. Jordan chuckles into your pussy, their pink tongue darting out to lick away the cum that stains their lips.

"What does it look like i'm doing, angel?"

[aneveningsword]

𝑭𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻𝑺 𝑨𝑩𝑶𝑼𝑻 𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑵𝑮

pairing: Jordan Li x gn!reader warnings: not proofread, hurt/comfort words: 1498 summary: a video from a party leads to accusations being thrown, with betrayal and jealousy clouding the mind it is only expected something goes wrong.

masterlist

Fights with Jordan were never malicious; they were always about something stupid or the stress of class. When the two of you fought, it was always followed by a heated makeout session and hushed apologies. It was never serious, and there was nothing you couldn't forgive each other for. However, the subject of the fight was sometimes just in someone's head.

The aggressive knocks on your dorm room door were nothing new; with your headphones on, you could barely hear anything. Rising from your couch, you cross the small space to the door, opening it with a smile that only grew as you saw Jordan on the other side.

"Hey, I wasn't expecting you." Your voice trails off slightly as you notice the deep frown on their face. Taking a moment to take in their appearance you notice their vphone clutched harshly in their hand, for a moment you wonder if it is going to shatter in their hand. Pushing past you to get into your room you were a little shocked with their aggression.

Shutting the door quickly, you turn to face them, confusion written on your face as you try to figure out what's wrong. "You good?" Their nostrils flared slightly as you huffed in response to the question. "Am I doing well? Are you okay? "What the hell is this?" Their voice was accusatory, their dark eyes boring into yours as if they were looking for a flash of guilt to prove they were correct in their accusation.

A video was playing on their vphone, which was thrust into your face. From what you could tell, it was from the weekend party you attended. It was supposed to be a small gathering for your friend's party, but it was blown out of proportion, and many more people showed up. Regardless, it was a fun night that you will never forget. However, Jordan stands there with a video of someone performing a keg stand that you wish you could remember.

"Looks like someone having a good time?" The video loops again as you try to figure out what caused such a reaction from the person in front of you. Your words pull a scoff from Jordan as they watch you with anger swirling in their eyes. "The fucking background, I shouldn't have to explain it." Their words were laced with venom as you tried to see what they were talking about. What could possibly get them so upset to storm into your dorm and begin yelling at you over something.

After a few moments, you realised what had gotten them so worked up. You and a guy were in the crowd that gathered around the person of the moment, encouraging them to keep drinking. Matthew? Max? Martin? His name slipped your mind, the alcohol erasing it from your memory. They were attached to your side, their hands a little too low, and their face whispering something in your ear before hovering over the exposed skin of your neck in the video. You couldn't help but frown as you saw it, desperately trying to recall how you got into the situation.

You could remember the disgusting feeling of his hands on you, the drunken flirting, and the kiss they tried to give you in small fragments. You'd put a stop to it before it got too far, telling them to get lost and that you weren't interested in them at all.

"That was nothing-" "Nothing? I sure looked like something." Jordan's anger-filled voice cut you off before you could explain yourself, their emotions clouding their judgement. You knew you should not rise to their bites, to begin yelling back and fighting with an equal amount of venom. But you were feeding off the anger and betrayal in the room.

"I don't know why it's any of your business. It's not like we are together." What Jordan and you had was delicate, you weren't officially together yet treated one another as partners. There had never been a conversation on exactly what you two were, simply a couple of people who fool around and seek each other out at times. Not a couple.

"It became my business when you act like a fucking slut." You it was not the yelling that caused the pang in your heart, not the tone or the way they looked at you with such anger. But the accusation of you being a slut, as though you were asking for a man to accost you while trying to celebrate your friend. "Go fuck yourself Jordan. God, I don't act like such a brat when you flirt with people. If I knew you were so insecure I would've wasted my time with you."

Your words seemed to strike a nerve with them, and your choice of words hurt them. There was some distance between you two, a small safety bubble in your eyes. But when Jordan took a step towards you, it popped, and you quickly took a step back to regain the distance between you. In reality, you don't know why you did it; you weren't afraid they'd hurt you physically because you knew they weren't like that. But the possibility of it existed.

In their masculine form, they could be rather intimidating, they were tall and muscular, and their voice was deep and loud without even trying. They towered over you with little effort, intimidating you without even trying.

Jordan's expression changed from one of rage to one of guilt and concern. It was never their intention to scare you or make you fear they would attack you. When they saw the video, they were just frustrated and hurt, feeling betrayed. A part of them knew they were wrong; you weren't together, you weren't their partner; you were simply someone who held a special place in their hearts. The sting of betrayal for what had happened was still there. But it was overshadowed by the guilt he felt for instilling fear in others. They knew in their masculine form they could be intimidating, they often used this form to make sure people were listening to them when making a point.

"I-" The shift to their feminine form was instant, their voice becoming softer, their features more rounded and their frame much smaller as though they were trying to curl into themself to appear less threatening. Their voice was laced with guilt, words dying in their throat not knowing what to say to make this better. To make you feel more comfortable and safe with them, instead of fear that they might do something. "I didn't mean..."

"I know," Your voice is soft as you speak, you feel stupid for allowing a small fear to consume you. To think that they were that low may that they may hurt you over a video and harsh words. Embarrassment flooded your system along with a small sense of guilt for the whirlwind of emotions you have caused them. "I just... I don't know why I did that."

"I would never hurt you," Jordan's voice matches yours in tone and volume, eyes searching yours for a hint of fear that you may still possess. "I know," Your small confirmation pushes Jordan towards you, their steps are slow and small giving you enough chance to back away or shoo them off. But you don't, needing the sense of comfort only they can bring.

Jordan's hands grab your hands softly, starting small to ensure you are okay with physical touch. When you give on negative reaction, they wrap their arms around you, pulling you into a warm embrace. You sink into their touch, arms wrapping around them as a small sigh leaves you. "I didn't mean for him to be all over me," You begin, finding this calm moment the perfect time to explain your actions. "I didn't want to cause a scene, not at my friend's party. It didn't go further than that, I promise. I got him to leave me be, he was just a stain on a good night."

There was silence for a moment, Jordan allowing your words to sink in and for a moment they felt silly. To think you would eagerly be all over a guy you just met at a party. That you would throw away what you both had for some man you clearly barely remember. But the jealousy and betrayal was still there, gnawing at the back of their mind.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have barged in here to yell at you. I didn't want to scare you." The small apology brought a smile to your face, it was easy to forgive Jordan and it was easy to love them.

[jamesdegriz]

You're sick and in relationship with Jordan: headcanons

(Gifs are not mine, please DM for credit if you recognize your work and want to be tugged)

It's a flu season so I hope you will enjoy a little bit of fluff and feeling of being cared for. :)

- I see it going two ways. Either Jordan snaps into protective mode or they start avoiding you, afraid of getting sick themselves.

If it's something light, like a flu, they will let you alone, just checking in on you by messages or calls, occasionally bringing you food and medicine. But if it's something more serious like pneumonia they are too worried and protective to let you deal with this by yourself. In that case...

- Jordan makes you move into their dorm. You take the bed and they would sleep on the couch. They are more snippy and sarcastic then usual (even if you have been in a relationship for awhile) because they are afraid to really show how much you being sick worries them to their core.

○ "You will get sick too." You say in the last attempt to dissuade Jordan from being an overbearing mother hen. "I won't." They reply stubbornly. "My immune system is much stronger to fall for some weak-ass virus." Jordan adds proudly with an half-amused half-dismissive huff. A small fleeting smile on their face doesn't go unnoticed by you when you chuckle despite yourself at the antics of your partner.

- Overbearing isn't enough to describe Jordan when it comes to taking care of the sick you. They make sure and force you to eat if you forget. They impose a strict quarantine and won't let you do anything too physical or go to classes (even online ones) .

- Some of their commonly used phrases include:

"No way in hell you're going to classes like that."

"What gym? I don't care if it's meditative yoga. You're not going, that's my final word."

"You're feeling better already? If you can walk to the door and back without coughing I will consider believing you."

○ "I can take care of myself!" I sniffle with a small pout. "The hell you can. Should I remind you that you have higher fever now because you snuck out to the classes despite me telling you not to?" Jordan counters with the hand on their hip and pointing the thermometer at you accusatorily. "You didn't stay locked up in the room when you were sick" you rebuff under your breath before coughing loudly and sniffling your nose, making you snuggle more into the blankets. Jordan ignores your words as they turn on their heels, tossing their bob out of their face and walk to the other side of the room to make you some more tea.

- If you shiver too much during the night, Jordan would never say it out loud but climb into the bed with you, wrapping their arms tightly around you, warm chest pressing against your shivering back. ○ "Just spew your germs in the other direction. I have an important meeting with Brink in the end of the week." They would grumble into your hair, when you stir slightly awake, giving your middle a light squeeze so you know they care more than they let you know.

- In the evening, after classes and grading papers for Brink Jordan stumbles into their dorm to find you cuddled up in bed watching your comfort series. They switch to their male form as they approach you (I firmly believe that they have an irrational conviction that their invulnerabilty makes them resistant to germs).

○ "Have you eaten anything today?" Jordan asks checking you for fever by pressing the inside of their forearm to your forehead. "No, I had no appetite." You reply softly leaning into their touch. The illness and sleeping not cuddled up to Jordan every night, making you crazy touch starved. "I figured as much," they grumble rolling their eyes. "Here, I got you some soup from the take-out place you like so much." A plastic bag is put in your lap carefully, the warmth radiating to your palms when you wrap your hands around it carefully. Jordan will sit with you, rolling their eyes at your show but not complaining, just to make sure that you will finish your meal.

- No surprise they end up sick after you and you need to take care of them, which is a lot like trying to cuddle a grumpy cat, because Jordan refuses to believe they are sick. It doesn't help that hearing Jordan trying to be sarcastic and defensive with their nose all stuffy, makes you smile and giggle from how adorable they sound. That annoys Jordan even more until they fall silent and start pouting and you have to hug them a kiss the pout away while they try half-heartedly to push you away.

[360iris]

How am I doing? Oh, I don’t know… I think I’m in love with a bi-gender badass who may, or may not, have gotten in on the big bad’s plan initially in exchange for a top spot on the school’s ranking board if they did well as an inside spy

but accidentally falls in love with the weird and pretty black girl who can creepily control her own and other people’s blood

And I’m afraid she’ll find out the truth and they’ll end up sacrificing themselves to save her because protecting her is all they’ve ever tried to do since the beginning;;;;;

Anyway, how are you?????

[ramblingthoughtsofayoungadult]

Confession Time: Part Two of Jordan Li X Streamer!fem!reader

A/N: I just got a cold so that's part of the story. Also, I own none of the characters from The Boys or Gen V. Enjoy!

Warnings: None, I don't think.

Word Count: 1410

Taglist: @airabek @thesuperwolfdiaries

A couple of weeks had passed since you realized your feelings for Jordan and now you had no idea how to act. You tried to act as normal as possible but no one told you what to do after realizing you have feelings for your friend of over a decade.

“Just tell them!” Emma insisted one afternoon in her dorm room.

"How do I work that into a normal conversation?" I replied.

“It’ll have to be a special conversation. All you have to do is say ‘Hey Jordan, I like you and I would really like to have sex with you’.” “Emma!”

Emma’s words did not help and as you set up for your stream later that night, you hoped Jordan didn’t notice your hands were trembling. “Nervous, Y/N?”

Of course they noticed.

You shook your head. “No, I think I just had too much caffeine.”

They nodded and leaned back in their chair. “So, what game do I have to carry you through tonight?” “You don’t carry me.” “Not in comfy games but I have to in horror games.”

You rolled your eyes and muttered, “PT”, wondering why your heart was fluttering in your chest.

As soon as the stream started, so did the thirsty comments and donations. “Yourmomssloppydisk said, ‘Jordan, what amount of money would get you to step on me? It could be any amount of time, I know you’re busy.’ Chat, relax,” You joked, face warming up.

“It’s okay, Y/N. For one thing, there would need to be an ironclad contract absolving me of any responsibility. The other thing is I don’t know if you could afford me.”

The sound of super chats and donations provided a nice distraction from the dark hallway in-game. “Someone sent a super chat and said, ‘I’ve never seen two pretty best friends, but this stream proves they exist’.” Jordan wrapped their arm around your shoulders and pulled you close. “Thank you for noticing.” “I will say, chat, I made this channel for my external validation. Jordan gets enough offline and online.” “Most of the comments come from you,” Jordan teased.

“Shut up!” you exclaimed, running through the loop again. Before you knew it, chaos in-game ensued and you couldn’t stop squealing.

Fortunately, the horror of the game kicked in just in time to distract you from how closely Jordan sat next to you or how good their new shampoo smelled. Or how widely they smiled when you got jump scared.

You were grateful for the nights they weren’t available to stream and you could focus on important things, like studying and planning new content. But the idea of confessing was always a thought in the back of your head.

Despite the fan content you’d seen, you couldn’t help but feel terrified of rejection. Putting yourself out there online and offline were two very different things. Online, you could just log off but offline, was a much different beast.

The decision to confess was taken away from you…sort of.

You and your friends were planning on attending Dusty’s Halloween party, AKA the biggest and best party of the year. Cate had been helping you plan your costume for weeks and you’d be able to take a night off work.

Everything was going to be perfect but, your immune system had other ideas. The morning of the party, you woke up with a sore throat and runny nose. As soon as Cate and Marie saw you, they practically shoved you back in bed.

“I’m fine, guys, I swear, I’m fine,” you insisted as Cate tucked you in. “Downing a bunch of Dayquil doesn’t mean ‘fine’, Y/N,” Marie said as she set a glass of water on your nightstand. “Now you’re going to stay in bed and rest,” Cate said.

“You can’t make me,” you huffed in your haze. “Yes, I could, Y/N, but I’m not going to.”

After they left, you did take a nap but there was only so much resting one could do before they got bored. So, you decided to do an impromptu stream. Nothing serious, just some Animal Crossing. You set yourself up with as many blankets and pillows as could fit with your setup and started.

“Hi everyone, this isn’t a planned stream but, as you can probably hear, my immune system lost a battle and I wanted to play some Animal Crossing to make me feel better.” You smiled when a super chat came in. “Thanks for the super chat Seriouslydon’tcallme87. ‘Y/N, you can take a night off. You’ve been working hard forever, and you need to take care of yourself.’ I appreciate the concern but I have plenty of zinc and Dayquil in my system.”

At Dusty’s, while Cate, Emma, Andre, and Luke partied, Jordan couldn’t stop worrying. Marie had told them about how you were sick when they met up at the party and then she had to stop them from driving back to campus. “Y/N would want you to have a good time and she’d probably feel really bad if you got sick.”

While Marie had a point, Jordan couldn’t stop thinking about you, all curled up in bed and suffering. In the middle of an intense game of flip cup, Jordan got a notification that you were streaming. They immediately stepped away from the table, clicked on it, and saw that you were practically lying down while working on your island.

“This is such a stupid mechanic. Just let me build a waterfall Nintendo,” you whined. Jordan laughed at that. You were always whiney when you were sick, but it was kind of cute. You were always cute.

Then, they felt bad because you were looking forward to this party for so long and kept your costume a secret from them, wanting a huge reveal. It was kind of embarrassing for them to admit that they were curious for which style route you took. Almost as embarrassing as the crush they had on you for the entirety of your friendship.  

“No, chat, this will not turn into a sleep stream. I didn’t even take the Nyquil yet.” As soon as you yawned, Jordan was on their way back to campus. When they burst into your room, you barely moved, head lolled to one side as you attempted to fish.

“What do you mean, ‘Jordan is serving?’ Chat, you all need to touch grass,” you muttered. Jordan laughed lowly and slowly approached you. “I appreciate the compliment.”

You slowly looked up and smiled. “Hi, Jordan. You make a great Jack Skellington.” “Thanks, but, I think it’s time we end the game.” You sat up and looked at chat. “Yes, chat, I was supposed to go socialize tonight but my immune system failed me. My costume was pretty amazing too, I was gonna be Black Cat.”

Jordan smiled at the visual. “Okay, chat, thanks for watching her for me but, I’ll take it from here.” Your protests were weak as Jordan stopped the stream, shut down all your devices, and gently lifted you in their arms.

“I wasn’t done!” you exclaimed. “I saved your progress, you can finish tomorrow.” They gently set you back in your bed and wrapped you in all the blankets they could find. They found the Nyquil and placed it on your nightstand along with some juice.

You wiggled around in bed and pouted. “But I’m not tired.” “Is this what it’s like to have a kid?” “Are you calling me a child?” Then, you started giggling and Jordan shook their head.

“Just take your medicine.”

"Why’d you leave the party?” you asked. “Because I saw my best friend trying to stream while she’s sick and thought I’d prevent a disaster.”

You grinned. “Thank you for always taking care of me, Jordan. You’re so sweet.” “Stop it, go to bed,” they said. “Wait.” You leaned up, grabbed the back of their neck, and pulled them closer to you.

Either the Nyquil kicked in or you genuinely didn’t notice the shock in their eyes. “I love you, Jordan. I was going to tell you at the party tonight but, this is also fine.” They opened their mouth to speak but you flopped back in bed, fast asleep.

For a moment, Jordan stood there, stunned as they watched you sleep. They couldn’t believe you said that and didn’t even give them a chance to respond.

Once they finished cleaning up after you, they decided to confess to you when you were lucid.

[incorrectgenv]

[mcfuckity]

While Butcher MAY HAVE lost Ryan as a son, I’m manifesting that he adopts Marie, Emma, Jordan, and Andre😌😌

Matter of fact, The Boys just share custody of all of those kids. ✨They’re a family in my head✨

[gay4abby]

Marie and Jordan are the type of couple that likes to take care of each other. Gives either party everything they need. Since they live together (yes, they do), they’re never short on needing something they don’t have, but the other does and vice versa. Like for example, say they have a cousin come over on Jordan’s side. Or better yet, one of their siblings! You ever see those TikTok’s of the younger sibling tagging along with their older sibling and significant other everywhere? They buy their youngest sibling food before they buy their own? That’s them as a couple! They act like nurturing parents, fed when need be, taken to places when whoever they’re hanging out with wants to come along. They pretty much treat the person like their child.

Jordan likes to have a space where everything has a place and Marie likes to have items on hand in case of an emergency. She always has everything, even if someone thinks it’s not needed, her favourite quote is ‘better to have it and don’t need it than to need it and don’t have it.’ So them living together is like having a Costco’s at the ready (and a pharmacy, too if we’re getting technical). Marie and Jordan are the parent couple of the group. They’re always in competition with each other on who can take care of who the best.

Marie loves tidying up for Jordan after the end of the day; they have a certain night routine that needs to be done step by step to ensure a good nights sleep.

Jordan likes to warm up Marie’s towel as she showers so she isn’t shivering as soon as she gets out. They make her a cup of tea, leave her clothes out and lotion. Hell, they’ll even help her moisturise after her shower. Jordan never thought they’d be this domesticated in their life. They find themselves in the kitchen with Marie as she’s preparing a meal for the two of them. She’s the chef of the relationship, did I mention?

Jordan also loves to steal Marie’s clothes. She’ll be missing a leather jacket and then a couple hours later find said jacket on Jordan’s female form and she doesn’t even bother to mention it! Marie’s in disbelief, but she can’t help it that it makes her feel warm. Marie likes to put notes around where she knows Jordan will only find it. They spend a lot of time with each other, getting to know one another and one thing she found out about Jordan is that they like to create hiding spaces. Not hiding spaces they just found but actually create them.

And her just finding this out because they hid her birthday gift in a spot in her dorm!! They like doing things for one another because it shows their appreciation and affection. Not giving that would cause miscommunication and fights that don’t need to be fought.

[mariesjordans]

I lost the ask box for it but I was asked for headcanons for mariejordan as parents/pregnant Marie so here they are :

If you thought Jordan was over protective before? You can assume Marie can’t even go to the bathroom alone

Jordan makes a point to brush her stomach when they walk by often

Marie’s mood swings could make the strongest of soldiers cry Jordan tries to make sure their friends don’t take it personally

Jordan finds any reason to get their arms around her, especially when they cuddle in bed

Lots of Jordan standing across the room with puppy eyes after any minor inconvenience Marie has and lots of Marie reminding them they both decided this together

Their first is a babygirl

Jordan bursts into tears when they first see her, and the second time, and the third

They name their girl after Marie’s mother and she has both of their last names

Marie heals immediately but Jordan still treats her like glass after the fact

On the drive home Jordan is almost always 10 under the speed limit claiming it’s for the baby and not their own nerves

It takes a good 3 weeks for Marie to get Jordan to hand the baby to anyone that isn’t her

You have to wash your hands before, during, and after holding their babygirl and wear a mask or Jordan will attempt to ensure you never hold her again, Marie reassures you they’re joking (they’re not)

Jordan gets in the crib to soothe her some nights

They have a talk about the kind of parents they wanna be, Jordan having the overwhelming need to be better than their dad, Marie wanting to be the mother she didn’t get to have

They end up having 3 kids, they have powers

Their oldest girl has both their powers, their middle boy has Marie’s, their youngest girl has Jordan’s

Marie runs her house like the navy, Jordan would fold for their kids after one tear

Jordan still tries to uphold their badass reputation amongst the PTA while wearing their babygirl’s care-bear backpack

As soon as Marie steps foot in the door and everyone is up past bedtime they know they’re in trouble, Jordan included

Marie has to pull Jordan out the door for date night as they protest Emma babysitting

They take weekends to teach the kids their powers, Marie tells Jordan it’s important to her as soon as possible and they know why and agree on an age

Their oldest girl struggles having so much to learn and one day Marie sits down for a one on one to tell her about how she struggled too, and even opens up about her grandparents

Jordan holds her as she cries that night

The kids sleep in their bed more than they do their own, Jordan often wakes up with a onesie covered foot in their face and hair in their mouth

Jordan is the cook of the family but they’re slowly teaching Marie over the years

Jordan let’s their youngest daughter sit in their lap with an unplugged controller while they play video games

Their middle child watches property brothers all the time even though Marie tries to suggest other things

Jordan let’s the girls do their hair however they want to and Marie sneaks pictures

Jordan’s lock screen is Marie and the kids knocked out on the couch

I have like 10 million ideas I can go on forever let me know if anybody wants more or headcanons I have for anything else! :)

[gwynfahr]

Jordan's an overstimulating queen, and a worshipping king, you can't convince me otherwise.

In female form, she will not stop making you come until you almost can't articulate your safe word anymore. Spurring you on by whispering an unending stream of "Come on, one more time", or "I know, just one more and then we can take a break" in your ear. She'll add some light degradation, fucking you roughly on her fingers.

In their male form, he changes completely, he's tender, he's praising the hell out of you. Of course, he's overstimulating you still, but he'll add compliments such as : "You're doing so well, baby" or "such a good fucking girl for me".

Either way, sex with Jordan Li is fucking mind blowing and you can argue with the wall if you don't think so.

[yameoto]

TOP TEN BENEFITS. JORDAN, CATE, ANDRE.

synopsis ; you and godolkin's finest go out for some fun, just like any other night. little do you know, is that they have a little more in store for you than just partying.

oh. also, you're luke's girlfriend—not like that's going to stop them.

✗ warnings ; dark!jordan, dark!cate, dark!andre, cnc, dubcon, intox, foursome, cheating, strap-fucking. wc ; 1.9k

DISTANTLY, you can hear voices. you're not sure, really; your head's all dizzy and groggy, and your mouth is so dry you wonder if you’ve been chewing on cement. god.. you really can’t remember anything. how strong were those drinks?

"we sure about this, guys?" comes a voice, echoing on the outskirts of your mind. it's familiar. masculine.. or feminine? you really can't tell—not in this state, at least.

"of course we're sure." someone else interjects, gruffer, this time, clearly masculine. it sounds a lot like.. andre..?

"i mean, look at her," whispers another, voices so low—like they're trying not to wake you. this one's higher, more feminine and— oh that's definitely cate. "how could we not?"

how could they not what? nothing makes sense—not in your foggy, hungover brain at least; one that you're becoming increasingly suspicious is addled by something stronger than shots. but that can't be right—you hadn't blown lines with the others, had you? no, you definitely hadn't. so why does your head hurt so fucking much?

"guys..?" you mumble, trying to sit up on what you distantly realise is a bed, the edges of your vision still blurry. as it adjusts, you're met with the sight of jordan, andre and cate all standing over you, eyes strangely lidded, gleaming. "shit— she's up," jordan hisses, grip on your thigh tightening, and its then that you realise your skirt is gone—the entire stretch of your legs exposed to the three of them.

"fuck," cate sighs, lips drawing into a pout as you feel her hand, bare hand, hover over your other thigh, head jerking up to face the others with a frown on her lips. "should i do it again?"

"no," jordan and andre hiss in unison, exchanging a meaningful look as their fingers twitch, restless. "c'mon, you know you want her awake for this."

"awake for what?" you grumble, head throbbing far too much for you to wrap your head around the conversation. "i'm too hungover for this." you swing your legs off the edge of the bed, reaching for your discarded skirt before two pairs of her hands shoot out to stop you. your vision swims, and with a disconcerting lurch you realise you're so fucked-up you can't even tell whose is who's.

"you won't need that." jordan mutters, breath hot against your cheek as they curl their hand around your wrist, dragging it firmly into their lap. what the fuck?

"sorry about the skirt," cate hums affirmatively, eyes drifting to the poor, ripped thing on the floor and you swear you see the beginnings of a smirk curl her lips "someone got a little excited."

"hey—" andre puts his hands up, not looking too sorry at all. in fact, he looks like he's barely restraining a grin. "don't act like you two weren't drooling—"

"touché." jordan interjects, eyes rolling yet looking entirely too pleased with themselves as they play with your hand in their lap, inching it up their own thigh. “you look better without it, doll.”

"warm her up, jordan." cate's eyes flash, gaze boring into the sight of you, splayed against the pillows, and you resist the urge to whimper.

"don't tell me what to do," jordan grumbles, but there's a grin stretching at their lips and you almost wonder if cate used her powers with the speed in which they comply. their loose grip on your wrist becomes inordinately tight as they deftly undo their belt, dragging their pants and boxers down in one, swift move.

oh, fuck.

"hold on— i—" you splutter, stupidly, glancing between the three of them and jordan's throbbing, leaking cock. it gently bobs into your hand; head pink, glistening with pre-cum and you just want to—wait, what?

you're dating luke. you're dating luke. a spike of panic sends you twisting, surprisingly lucid for a moment as you attempt tugging your wrists away—to no avail, of course. top ten ranking aside; you don't stand a chance against three supes, especially not the three of them.

"hey— shh." jordan catches you, eyes flashing for a moment as they slowly, ever so slowly, guide your hand back to their cock—grunting when your fingers limply wrap around their tip. "fuck, that's it.." they groan, head tilting back. jesus fucking christ.

you don't even realise it when andre drags your panties down your thighs—and your flush only deepens at how fucking wet you are. that has to be the high, right? there's no way—why else would your cunt be dripping into the goddamn sheets, like that? for three of your friends? boyfriend absent from the room, no less. a feeble, embarrassed whine falls from your lips, as three hungry pairs of eyes have no shame in hiding how much they want to fucking devour you.

"look at you, so fucking wet." ande’s voice comes a deep rumble, belt unbuckling with a click as he inches closer. his hands slide over your thighs as he moves over, all the way, and you make another strained noise as his cock hits your belly.

"i think it's cute." cate hums, eyes glimmering as she leans across the bedspread, hands wrapping around the base of andre's eager, bobbing cock and directing it towards your splayed legs. andre’s basically fucking trembling with restless need, cate’s own breaths shallowing, picking up the pace. "luke ever get you this wet?"

your teeth tuck into your bottom lip, eyes squeezing shut because god, luke.. what the hell are you doing here? it feels like betrayal. it is betrayal—they need to stop—this is wrong—

you whine, making a choking noise as jordan’s grasp on your wrist steels enough to snap bone. you want to say; luke—? yes—he fucking has—i think—but you find you barely have the strength to moan, let alone protest.

“nah, i don’t think so.” jordan smirks, smug, as if they know exactly what’s going through your head as their hand guides yours; forcibly pumping your hand along their length. their frustrated growls of pleasure are enough to make you blush—let alone the feeling of andre’s hands roughly shoving your legs apart, spreading your folds open with two of his fingers. you whine, quivering, glazed pupils meeting his.

"fuck, luke's gonna kill us—" andre grunts once he finally rams into you, audibly groaning as you slam into the blankets with each thrust, inciting the most strangled little cries from your throat. it’s so much—you can’t help but thrash a little, under his touch. cate lets out a displeased hum, though at his words or his roughness you can't tell.

"what luke won't know won't hurt him." jordan counters from the other side of you, lips twisting into a grin as they bite into your shoulder, still moving your hands in thrusts along their length.

they keep shifting—each time you're distracted by cate or andre the feeling of their cock twitching under your hands changes to fingers sinking into sloppy, wet heat. it's ridiculous how hot it makes you, just jacking them off—but it’s not like you have any room to comment with andre thrusting into you like an animal, snarls coming out of his mouth as each movement sends you reeling with white-hot, carnal pleasure.

"move, you brute." cate interrupts, voice cutting through the blinding, purely instinctual pleasure of andre pumping you full like a rutting dog. her eyes glitter with an annoyance that give way to barely-restrained lust, and in your sex-drugs-cate induced haze (you're still not quite sure which it is, yet), you faintly register the plastic in her hand; long, thick, pink and fuck— is that a strap?

"not yet, cate, i'm almost done—" andre cuts himself with a guttural, bestial moan as his cock rams into you, again. you can feel it twitching inside of you; hear his breaths growing shallower as he grips your hips, so tight they might bruise. "oh, fuck—!" he groans loudly as he comes, thick, hot seed filling you up, hips still thrusting as he crams as much of his load into you as he possibly can. it takes a beat before he reluctantly pulls out, chest heaving.

"fuck, you felt so good," he groans, hands clumsily tugging you forward for a kiss before he's promptly pushed off before your lips can touch. "about fucking time." cate grunts, voice sharp, weight of andre on top of you replaced by two long, toned legs swinging on either side of your body, cate's hands running over that fucking strap at her hips. her lips curl into a smirk as your eyes—still glassy from andre's force—blink blearily up at her. you’re still so dazed, so adorable. she leans down to cup your chin. "you're such a pretty little thing," she murmurs, thumb brushing against your bottom lip, gaze darkening as she begins to prise your mouth open, gleam in her eyes giving away to sheer, unadulterated lust.

"open wide." she whispers, and that's the only pre-empt you get before you're choking on silicone, her hips bucking forward as she shoves herself into your mouth. her hands tighten in your hair, jerking you forward so that the entire length forces itself down your throat. tears spring to your eyes. you feel jordon's hands getting rougher as they use you to fuck themselves, teeth digging into your skin to muffle their own whines while your own, keening “mmfs—!” peter out to soft, quiet whimpers.

"you're so good for us," jordan moans, burying your fingers hilt-deep into their cunt, walls pulsing desperately around you. "so fucking good," cate assents with a breathy, pleasured groan of her own, back snapping as if it were her own cock that you’re gagging around. from behind her, andre’s hands are wrapped around himself, moving furiously as he arches over the bed. “you have no idea how long we’ve wanted this.” he hisses, one hand madly jerking himself off to the sight of cate fucking your face like she owns you, the other tangling in your hair. cate audibly moans, bucking into you further with a sharp inhale. "wish i could come in you for real." she mumbles, fingers running along your jaw as you splutter around plastic. she smiles, tilts her head up to look at jordon as they mutter something unintelligible, her thrusts increasing in pace, fucking your throat so raw, so good. "jordan's got something special to give you." she murmurs, voice honey sweet, hand dancing up your cheek.

you can hardly gargle a response through the strap in your mouth—but you don't have to. not when, with a resounding moan, all questions are answered with jordan promptly shooting their load all over your face, thick, hot strings of cum leaking around the edges of the strap and seeping into your mouth. they both groan, jordan slumping into your side with soft, intermittent pants.

"god.." they mutter into the crook of your neck, cate's thrusts slowing as she starts to loosen her grip on your hair; though not stopping, never stopping. "you're ours." jordan grunts, gripping your thigh with sudden, overwhelming intensity while cate continues jerking the strap down your throat, smile tugging at her lips. “ours." she echoes, voice soft—almost gentle if you didn’t know any better. she leans down, hand stretching out; smearing jordan's cum across your cheek in one, long, clean swipe. "fucking ours."

poor, poor luke.

[lavend3r-stardust]

Homework sex w/ jordan 👀

Jordan thrusting into you while you're seated in their lap, trying to finish your homework. Them telling you to "focus, baby . . . Can't have you failing because you love my dick so much. My smart girl can do a lot better than that if she can concentrate, right?"

But you keep getting distracted as their dick is buried in your wet little cunt, can't help but start chewing your lip when Jordan nips at the back of your neck, and you groan when they slowly rock their hips so they can fuck you deeper. Your arms reach back to wrap around Jordan's neck as they kiss you, their mouth moving down to suck on your collarbone as they motion for you to get off the chair.

"I guess homework could wait a bit . . ." Jordan grins as you jump into their arms, wrapping your legs around their waist and turning around so you land on their bed. You take in the scent of jordan's sheets and their cologne as they climb into your lap, dragging the tip along your pussy, sighing at the way it throbs feeling them slide up and down your glistening folds.

"Maybe if you can answer one last question . . . I might give you want you want," They say with a grin.