jaafar jackson x reader blurb (18+ mdni: sub!jaafar, oral w/f!receiving)
the concept of jaafar wanting you to use him after a night out. god bless your boy—his shy demeanor leaves as soon as you start sliding shots toward him on a night out. and then after the fact… he’d you’d have him on his back, thighs smothering his ears, with his tongue lapping at your cunt. every time you’d drag yourself over his nose, he’d let out the loudest sound you've ever heard from him. and when he's actively moaning into you, you could only ask him, “how is it?”
even more groans, like he’s drowning in it. “fuckin—just fuckin’ ride it, please.”
and you wouldn’t hide your smirk as you continued to drag your hips over him. your hand traveling down to play with his curls, pulling at the back of his head so you can push even further down on his nose: “you're so generous, baby.”
“want you happy,” he’d mumble against you. between harsh kisses to your clit, and sneaking a glance at you, “are you happy?”
you know better than to make him beg when he's glassy-eyed and sensitive.
“so happy with you,” you’d muse, grinding your hips harshly. he’d relax even more under you, letting out another series of sounds that border on whiney. it just makes you want to squeeze your thighs even tighter around him. your eyes would flutter close, riding the tip of his prodding tongue. reaching behind, you’d stroke his neglected cock (he's deserved it after all). “keep going—let me have it.”
serafin makes you lean all the way back while he does it. with his bicep flexing under you and your legs sprawled out, feet twisting on top of the mattress when spread out. to him, it's almost like being front row at show.
it would be like that. but only if an afternoon matinee was like having his arm moving like a piston–fingers curling at just the right angle while toying with that spot inside you he’d never forget.
he could sail to the end of the world and back. it could take him a decade and he’d still find that little spot inside of you during your reunion.
the little one that has your abdomen flexing to force him out,
the one that has you twisting further into his arms,
the one that has you furrowing your brow at him as he watches you take three fingers while wearing that smile–like he’s impressed you’re lasting this long with him.
“nina, nina, nina–” he murmurs into your half-open lips that search for him eagerly. he tilts you back when you attempt to kiss him again, keeping himself just out of your reach. “you'll stay focused for me, won't you?”
he taunts you. and teases, while playing the cruel game of cat and mouse while avoiding your lips. offering his mouth if it’s the only way he can get you to chase him. and you'll follow him every time.
"you'll get what you want," he tuts when you get extra whiney. "you'll get your kiss when you sing extra loud and pretty for me."
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