OFF THE RECORD | jaafar x journalist!reader (finished)
in which y/n spends months asking jaafar jackson questions for a living, only to realize the one thing she doesn't know how to handle is him.
COSMIC CLINGY | jaafar x reader (one-shot)
in which y/n gets a phd, a little drunk and spends the night attached to her loving boyfriend, jaafar.
THE MISSING PIECE | jaafar x reader (brother’s best friend) on going
for years, y/n has only known jaafar jackson as the person in the stories. the brother who was always filming. the brother who was always travelling. the brother who always seemed to leave right before she arrived. meanwhile, jaafar has spent years hearing about jermajesty's best friend, the girl who somehow became part of the family without sharing their last name. when they finally meet, neither of them expects a single afternoon to change anything. they're wrong.
UNDER THE SAME CHANDELIER | jaafar x reader (request)
when y/n reluctantly agrees to attend an exclusive masquerade charity gala, she expects an evening of beautiful architecture, live music, and awkward social interactions. what she doesn't expect is the stranger who keeps finding her throughout the night. with no names, no occupations, and no way of contacting each other, they leave the estate believing they'll never meet again. then a missing moon charm changes everything.
pairing: jaafar jackson x reader (brother’s best friend)
summary: in which he decides friendship has lasted long enough
chapters
word count: 4,628
an: uh-oh, it’s comiiiiing, ITS COOOOOMING!!!!
The air inside Y/N’s apartment hummed with quiet anticipation, the faint hum of an old track drifting from the kitchen speaker while golden evening light filtered through the windows. On the living room sofa, Jermajesty was sprawled out, idly scrolling through his phone, laughing at whatever TikTok he watched.
Jaafar, however, couldn't sit still.
He leaned against the kitchen counter, pacing his fingers along the edge of a clean glass. His heart was doing a strange, erratic dance against his ribs, a persistent thrumming that had less to do with the massive birthday party they were heading to in the Hollywood Hills, and everything to do with what had happened forty eight hours ago.
He closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, and he was right back there. He had turned up at her apartment in the dead of night, entirely unable to sleep, using the flimsy, transparent excuse of wanting ice cream. They had sat on her kitchen floor, sharing a pint of ice cream, laughing in whispers so they wouldn't wake her neighbors. But somewhere between the quiet hours of the morning and the heavy stillness of the room, the air had shifted. A lingering look over the counter, the slow, deliberate brush of his knuckles against her wrist as he handed her the spoon, a raw, heavy current had sparked into existence. It wasn't just the sweet, comfortable longing anymore. It was a thick, undeniable sexual tension that had left them both breathless and entirely unable to look each other in the eye when he finally left at dawn.
'Man, if she takes any longer, the birthday boy is gonna be turning 60,' Jermajesty complained from the couch, throwing his head back dramatically. 'Marcus has money to burn, you know how his parties are. If you aren't there by ten, you're parking three miles down the hill.'
'Let her take her time,' Jaafar murmured, his voice dropping into that quiet, gravelly register. He adjusted the collar of his button-down shirt, feeling suddenly overwarm. 'Besides, its only been like 10 minutes, relax'
Then, the click of a door handle echoed down the short hallway.
Jaafar’s eyes snapped toward the sound.
Y/N stepped out of her bedroom, and the words Jaafar had been about to speak died instantly in his throat. A sudden, heavy weight settled over his chest, making it physically difficult to swallow. He stopped breathing entirely, his eyes locking onto her with an intensity so fierce it felt almost dangerous. He didn't want to blink. No, he couldn't blink, terrified that if he closed his eyes for even a microsecond, the vision of her would alter or vanish.
She was wearing a sleek, black skirt that clung beautifully to the curve of her hips, contrasted by a structured, deep maroon leather top. The leather hugged her torso flawlessly, accentuating the narrow indentation of her waist and the soft, tantalizing swell of her chest. Her hair was styled perfectly, her makeup soft but striking, and her scent, that sharp, intoxicating blend of warm amber and vanilla that drives him insane, flooded the hallway before she even reached them.
Jermajesty let out a low, appreciative whistle, sitting up. 'Okay. Look at you. Marcus’ house isn't even ready for this.'
Y/N gave him a nervous but excited smile. She looked directly past Jermajesty, her eyes landing squarely on Jaafar. 'Is it too much? Be honest.'
Jaafar couldn't speak. His throat felt completely parched, his jaw clenched as he took her in.
'Jaafar? bro?' Jermajesty teased, nudging his brother's arm.
Jaafar tore his gaze away from her body with an immense, exhausting effort, looking up to lock his dark eyes with hers. 'uh, yeah, yeah, no...you look...' He cleared his throat, his voice rougher than usual. 'You look incredible, Y/N. Seriously.'
'Thanks,' she smiled as she picked her bag, Jermajesty taking it as a sign to get moving.
The ride down to the car was a blur of heavy silence and electric friction. As the three of them walked out into the cool night air toward Jaafar’s car, Jermajesty walked slightly ahead, completely oblivious to the silent storm raging right behind him. Jaafar walked close to Y/N. Neither of them pulled away. The air between them was thick with a brand new, highly volatile awareness. It was a mutual, heavy lust that had been lit two nights ago, and tonight, it was threatening to burn the whole house down.
The estate in the Hollywood Hills was exactly the kind of architectural spectacle you expected from a multi-millionaire heir in his mid-twenties. Glass walls, infinity pools overflowing into the dark canyon, and valets sprinting up a steep, winding driveway.
Inside, the party was a roaring, high-energy masterpiece. The heavy, subterranean bass of a professional sound system vibrated through the limestone floors, while hundreds of people moved through the indoor-outdoor spaces.
For the first two hours, they were swept up in the absolute euphoria of the night. It was a massive reunion, half of Y/N and Jermajesty’s old college classmates were there, floating between the open bars and the crowded lounge areas. They danced in a tight, laughing circle, Y/N, Jaafar, Jermajesty, and a handful of old friends. Y/N was radiant, her movements loose and free, her maroon leather top catching the flashing neon blue and purple lights of the patio.
Jaafar stayed locked to her side, his hand occasionally finding the small of her back to guide her through the dense crowd, his palm pressing into the smooth, firm leather of her top. Every time she laughed or turned to say something over her shoulder, her lips were bare inches from his jaw.
Somewhere during a transition into a heavy trap beat, the crowd shifted violently. Jaafar looked around, his hand still loosely holding Y/N’s wrist, and realized Jermajesty was completely gone. He had vanished into the sea of people, likely pulled away by a group of old frat brothers near the main bar.
Y/N leaned close to Jaafar's ear, her warm breath sending a sharp, involuntary shiver down his spine. 'I need some air,' she shouted over the blaring music, tipping her head toward the massive glass doors leading to the side of the property.
Jaafar didn't hesitate. He slid his hand down from her wrist, his fingers wrapping firmly around her palm. His hand completely enveloping hers as he turned and began slicing a path through the crowded room. He didn't let go, not even when they broke through the glass doors and stepped out onto the quiet, stone pathway running along the edge of the hillside.
The noise of the party instantly dropped to a dull, muted thrum. The air out here was crisp, carrying the scent of eucalyptus and expensive champagne. Below them, stretched out like a endless blanket of diamonds, was the breathtaking, twinkling expanse of the Los Angeles skyline at night.
As they walked further down the path, away from the glass windows, the music from the outdoor speakers shifted. The unmistakable, iconic Rihanna’s 'Umbrella' began to echo softly across the stone terrace.
Y/N let out a sudden, giggly gasp. The alcohol and the sudden rush of cool oxygen seemed to hit her all at once. She didn't let go of Jaafar's hand, instead, she used his grip as leverage, spinning herself around on the heel of her shoe and starting to dance right there on the empty stone path.
'Under my umbrella... ella, ella, eh, eh, eh...' she sang out, her voice bright and unbothered, her eyes locked on his as she dramatically pointed her free hand toward the sky, performing the chorus completely for him.
Jaafar stopped walking. He just stood there, towering over her in the moonlight, a slow, utterly helpless laugh escaping his lips. He didn't let go of her hand for a single second, his thumb idly stroking the back of her knuckles as she twirled and swayed in front of him. He was so incredibly, profoundly whipped for her. The sight of her, giddy, beautiful, dancing under the stars in a leather top that drove him crazy, made his chest ache with a terrifying amount of affection.
As the chorus faded, Y/N slowly stopped dancing, her breath coming a little faster now as she stepped closer into his space. Her eyes were wide, dark, and shiny with happiness.
Jaafar looked down at her, his laughter softening into something much heavier, much more intense. He reached out with his free hand, his fingertips lightly, hesitantly touching the smooth, deep maroon leather of her top right over her ribs, his touch feather-light but burning.
'You look breathtaking tonight,' he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that was completely uncovered by the loud music inside. 'Seriously, Y/N.'
Y/N’s breath hitched at the sudden intensity in his eyes. She swallowed, a small, confident but shaky smile returning to her lips. 'Dressed to impress,' she whispered, her eyes dropping to his mouth for a fraction of a second.
'Well,' Jaafar breathed, his hand sliding just an inch higher along the leather, his thumb pressing lightly against the side of her waist. 'You were highly successful.'
Feeling a sudden wave of heavy, delicious weight in his limbs, Jaafar shifted back, leaning his hips against the high stone backrest of the bench directly behind him. He perched there comfortably, his long legs spreading open as he gave a slow, deliberate tug on her hand. His grip was an unyielding command, dragging Y/N slowly, entirely into the warm space between his thighs.
The proximity shifted the air completely. Jaafar simply looked at her, his dark eyes dropping from her gaze down to her lips, tracking the slight parting of her mouth before lifting back to her eyes. The quiet, possessive cycle of his gaze made her pulse flutter.
'Soo,' he started, his voice dropping into a register that was impossibly quiet, rich, and dangerously smooth. 'You got a dress for the premiere?'
Y/N’s breath caught, the shear acoustic weight of his voice vibrating deep in her chest, sending a hot, physical shiver straight down her spine. 'Mhmm,' she managed, her voice a tiny bit breathless as she looked up at him. 'I do.'
While the words hung between them, Y/N’s fingers moved instinctively, her small hand tracing the broad expanse of his. She began playing with his hand, her fingertips tracing the smooth skin over his knuckles, sliding down the length of his long fingers. She had always been quietly obsessed with his hands. They were so distinctly big, warm, and strong, the kind of hands that made her feel entirely enveloped, entirely safe, but also the kind of hands that made her mind wander to dark, intoxicating places when she lay awake at night. Watching his fingers weave between hers right now made her stomach flip with a sudden, heavy ache.
Jaafar watched her manipulate his fingers, a lazy, incredibly sexy smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
'Aren't you gonna show me?' he asked. The tone was a low, rumbling tease, so deep and intimate she felt it like a physical touch against her skin.
Y/N forced her eyes up from his hands, anchoring herself against the sheer magnetism of his gaze. 'Nope,' she whispered, a playful defiance sparking in her eyes. 'You’ll have to wait.'
Jaafar let out a quiet, gravelly chuckle that vibrated against her face, his thumb shifting on her waist to squeeze her hip with a sudden, tight possessiveness. 'Wow. Not even a peek?'
'Hah, not even a sneak peek,' she teased, her voice dropping to a soft, rhythmic murmur that perfectly matched the slow R&B cadence drifting from the patio. Her fingers continued their torturous exploration, tracing the thick, prominent veins that ran along the back of his hand, mapping the pure strength hidden beneath his smooth skin. 'You have to wait for the red carpet like everyone else, Jaafar. I want the full impact.'
Jaafar let out a low, defeated groan, but the heavy, hooded look in his eyes told a completely different story. He liked the game. He loved the agonizing sweetness of her withholding from him, because it meant when he finally got to see her, when he finally got to have her, the payoff would be staggering.
'Kind of unfair, you know that?' he whispered.
Before she could form a reply, the outdoor speakers suddenly cut through the heavy silence, transitioning into the unmistakable, smooth acoustic intro of Mario’s 'Let Me Love You.'
Y/N’s eyes widened, a sudden, helpless squeal escaping her lips. 'Oh my god,' she gasped, her entire face lighting up in an instant. 'Jaafar, this is my song! This is my absolute favorite.'
Without waiting for his permission, she used her grip on his hand to pull him slightly off the stone backrest. She began to sway her hips to the slow, seductive rhythm, her black skirt swishing against his linen trousers. Jaafar didn't move from his perch, completely content to stay exactly where he was as she began to dance right there between his legs.
She looked up at him, her lips curving into a beautiful, radiant smile as she started singing the chorus directly to him, her eyes locking onto his with a sudden, intoxicating confidence.
Jaafar didn't say a word. He just watched her in absolute awe, a slow, completely whipped smile spreading across his face. He started nodding his head to the rhythm, a quiet, rumbling laugh escaping his chest at the sheer, breathtaking sight of her. He was so profoundly gone for her. He loved the way she completely lost herself in the music, the way her maroon leather top caught the silver moonlight, and the way her body moved with an effortless, torturous grace right in front of him.
He was whipped for her. And looking at the fierce, possessive hunger burning beneath her playful smile, it was clear she was just as whipped for him.
Jaafar stopped nodding his head. The lazy smile vanished from his face, replaced by a sharp, intense gravity that made his jaw clench violently. His dark eyes darkened until they were almost black, tracking the way her bottom lip parted slightly. Slowly, deliberately, Jaafar bit his own bottom lip, his teeth sinking into the flesh as a sharp spike of pure, unadulterated hunger flooded his lower abdomen.
He didn't want to talk about the premiere anymore. He didn't want to talk about the dress.
Exerting a firm, unyielding pressure on her hand, Jaafar pulled her forward.
Jaafar didn't waste another microsecond. He leaned down, his shadow completely engulfing her, and slammed his mouth against hers.
The kiss was deep. Instantaneous and completely hungry.
A sharp, breathless gasp escaped Y/N’s throat, a sound that Jaafar drank in desperately as his lips locked over hers, parting them with a heavy, possessive pressure. The past months of restraint, the agonizing boundaries, it all evaporated into thin air.
Y/N’s free hand flew up, her palm pressing flat against the warm, sharp line of his jaw before her fingers tangled fiercely into the soft curls at the back of his neck, pulling him down harder. Jaafar’s grip on her hand never broke, while his other hand came around her waist. His large palm slammed against the smooth, firm maroon leather of her top, anchoring her hips completely flush against his.
The kiss grew hungrier from both sides, their tongues tangling in a desperate, bruising rhythm that left them both completely breathless. He tasted like the crisp night air and pure, unfiltered desire, his mouth moving over hers with a dominant, breathtaking urgency that made her knees feel like liquid under her heels. The entire city of Los Angeles below them blurred into nothingness, leaving nothing but the heavy heat of their bodies and the desperate, messy sound of their mouths clashing in the dark.
When they finally broke for air, Jaafar rested his forehead against hers, breathing ragged. 'God, Y/N…' The words came out almost like a whimper, low and wrecked, raw with how completely gone he was for her. His voice cracked slightly on her name. Kissing her felt even better than he had imagined in all those late nights when he lay awake replaying every lingering touch and shared glance. It was addictive. Overwhelming. Perfect.
He took a shaky step backward, leaning his weight against the wide stone bench behind him for support once again. His legs felt unsteady, the intensity of the moment hitting him all at once. Y/N followed without hesitation as her hands came up to cradle both sides of his face, thumbs gently caressing his jawline and cheekbones. The touch was tender, intimate, grounding him even as it sent fresh sparks racing through his veins.
Jaafar’s hands settled on her waist, fingers spreading wide over the smooth maroon leather. They slid a bit lower, resting on the curve where her hips met her thighs, thumbs brushing the hem where the top met the black skirt. He held her there firmly but gently, anchoring her between his legs as he looked up at her with dark, hooded eyes full of wonder and hunger.
A sudden, soft giggle broke through the heavy silence.
Jaafar blinked, a little dazed. 'What?' he murmured, his voice thick and rough.
Y/N looked down at his mouth, her eyes crinkling at the corners with pure, affectionate amusement. 'Look at you,' she whispered, her thumb reaching out to brush against the corner of his lower lip. 'Your mouth is completely maroon. I totally ruined your lips with my lipstick.'
A lazy, breathless smile spread across Jaafar's face. He didn't care if he had lipstick smeared from ear to ear. He lifted his own hand, his large thumb replacing hers, gently wiping a smudge of the dark makeup from his bottom lip, his eyes never leaving hers, God how much she loved that eye contact.
Before she could even finish her laugh, Jaafar gripped her hip a fraction tighter and surged upward, capturing her mouth in another deep, possessive kiss. It was shorter this time, but packed with a heavy, deliberate intensity that cut her giggle short, turning it into a soft, melting sigh against his teeth.
When he finally let her go, just an inch, Y/N let out another breathless, amused huff, her hands still caressing his face. 'I just wiped your lips, Jaafar,' she laughed softly, her breath warm against his skin.
'I don't care,' Jaafar whispered, his thumb tracing the curve of her waist, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs. 'Do it again.'
The cool night breeze swept over the terrace, but neither of them felt the chill. For a few more minutes, the edge of that stone bench in the Hollywood Hills became their entire world. Jaafar’s hands remained anchored to the dip of her waist, feeling the firm, intoxicating warmth of her skin beneath the maroon leather, while Y/N stayed tucked safely between his knees, her fingers idly playing with the soft curls at the nape of his neck.
Eventually, the muted bassline from the house reminded them that they weren't entirely alone. With a shared, lingering look and a final, soft brush of his lips against her temple, Jaafar helped her check her makeup in the reflection of his phone screen, laughing quietly as he used his hand to finally clean the rest of the maroon smudge from his own face.
When they stepped back through the massive glass doors, the party was still a swirling vortex of neon lights and loud music, but everything felt different. The thick, suffocating tension that had plagued Jaafar for two years was gone, replaced by a bright, electric current that ran between them every time their shoulders brushed in the crowd. They found Jermajesty near the main bar, loudly retelling a college football story to a group of old friends.
'Hey,' Jermajesty yelled over the music, catching Jaafar’s eye and noting the subtle, unmistakable glow on both of their faces. A knowing, triumphant smirk spread across his features. 'Listen, Marcus is taking a group of us up to the rooftop lounge downtown. You guys coming?'
Jaafar looked down at Y/N, his thumb subtly tracing the back of her hand where their fingers were tightly intertwined behind his back. He didn't need to ask.
'Nah, we’re gonna head out,' Jaafar said, his voice smooth and clear over the din. 'Tell Marcus happy birthday for us.'
'Yeah, yeah. Go ahead,' Jermajesty teased, waving a dismissive hand, though his eyes danced with satisfaction. 'I'm getting a ride with Shawn. See you tomorrow, bro. Bye, Y/N!'
The drive back to Y/N’s apartment was completely different from the ride to the party. The heavy, agonizing uncertainty was entirely gone, replaced by a soft, buzzing intimacy. The radio played quietly in the background, but the real soundtrack to the night was the rhythmic hum of the tires on the asphalt and the steady sound of their breathing. Jaafar kept his right hand on the center console, palm up, and Y/N kept hers resting inside it, her fingers lightly tracing the strong, familiar lines of his palm.
When Jaafar pulled his car into the quiet, shadow-drenched driveway of her apartment building, he cut the engine. The headlights flickered off, plunging the interior of the vehicle into a warm, intimate darkness, save for the amber glow of a distant streetlamp filtering through the windshield.
Neither of them made a move to open their doors.
Jaafar shifted in his seat, turning his large frame toward her. He rested his elbow on the steering wheel, looking at her in the dim light. He was so profoundly, beautifully whipped. He watched the way the amber light caught the curve of her collarbone above the maroon leather top, the way her hair fell softly over her shoulders, and he felt a wave of possessiveness so fierce it made his chest tight.
'Y/N,' he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly vibration in the quiet car.
She turned her head, her dark eyes meeting his. She didn't say anything, but the slight parting of her lips was an invitation he was entirely powerless to resist.
Jaafar reached across the space between them, his large, warm hand cupping the back of her neck, his fingers tangling into her hair as he pulled her across the console.
The kiss was instant, deep, and starved.
It wasn't the tentative, exploratory kiss from the hillside terrace. This was a hungry, demanding release of every unspoken desire they had locked away for two years. Jaafar pulled her closer, his mouth slanting over hers with a heavy, possessive pressure that made a soft, needy whimper escape the back of her throat. Y/N leaned into him, her hands gripping the front of his shirt, pulling herself as close to his body as the bucket seats would allow. He tasted her fully, his tongue tracing hers in a slow, intoxicating rhythm that made his blood turn to pure, molten fire. The heat in the car rose instantly, thick and heavy with a promise that made his lower abdomen ache with a familiar, dangerous weight.
When he finally dragged his lips away, he didn't go far. He pressed a row of heavy, breathless kisses along her jawline, his thumb stroking the soft skin of her cheek. His breathing was ragged, his chest heaving against her hands.
Y/N let out a shaky, uneven breath, her fingers tightening in his shirt. She looked up at him, her eyes dark, heavy-lidded, and dilated with an unmistakable, raw desire. A slow, beautiful smile touched her lips, though her voice was entirely breathless.
'Wanna come in?' she whispered, her eyes locking onto his mouth.
Jaafar stared down at her, his jaw clenching as his eyes swept over her face, down to the maroon leather top, and back to her gaze. A sudden, heavy understanding settled between them, a silent acknowledgment that if he crossed that threshold tonight, there would be no more holding back. No more gentle caresses, no more polite boundaries, no more restraint. Tonight, he was going to take everything he had been dying for.
A low, deep rumble of agreement vibrated in his chest.
'Yeah,' Jaafar rough-whispered, his fingers tightening possessively in her hair as he leaned down to press one more hard, bruising kiss to her lips. 'Yeah, I do.'
hi! i wanted to know what your writing process is (if you don’t mind sharing!)
i’ve always wondered how you can write 6k+ words for a single chapter and then write more focused on the same idea 😭
i’m not a fic-writing type of person, but i do want to make one rather than sticking to one-shots, so any advice helps :)!
HIII aaah!! I love these type of questions!!!
so, once I get an idea, I try to write like a rough version on my notes app like key moments that might happen, the vibes I want, or even a specific dialogue ??? just so once I get to write the full chapter/one-shot/whatever, I have the full idea.
BUTTTTT AS AN ADHD GURLLLL, I get too many ideas at once and it happens as I’m writing. so maybe I’m following the main idea I had and then i'm like 'OH WAIT-!' and then I try to adapt that idea to the current idea (I’m so confusing lol) so I think that is why sometimes I have 6k words chapters and other times just 2k words (sometimes I just get carried away and don’t realize I’ve written that much until I look at the word count)
but yeah, I try my best to stay organized but my head is a chaos, like I probably have like 8 different files for the same chapter 😭 I also overthink too much, like I reread it and think 'not good enough' and then I restart or just edit some stuff.
i dont think I’ve been a great help lol also, reading helps so much in that sense, I love reading and I feel like it helped me get ideas or get inspired on their tropes, you know?
you can ask me whatever you want! my dms are always open :)
Hii! I just recently discovered OTR, and my god it is truly incredible. I am obsessed! Finished it in a day and a half. Your fic made me create a tumblr account just to see what else you had in store. KEEP GOING, YOURE AN INCREDIBLE WRITER!!🤍
AHHHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH WHAT THE HELL!!!!! I’m so happy! I hope you’ll continue enjoying it 🥹🤍
Omg the passing of mj is tmr, how are you feeling?
i feel quite empty today tbh, like it still feels surreal even though it’s been 17 years you know? like he is so alive in the fandom, we keep his legacy alive. i don’t know, it feels like he is still around
it’s a bittersweet feeling because although we feel him around, days like today reminds us he is not with us anymore ☹️☹️☹️ you know?
seventeen years have passed since you left us on this day, but your light still shines brighter than ever. i grew up listening to you thanks to my dad, who filled our home with your voice from the very beginning. you were the soundtrack of my childhood, the reason music felt like magic.
the first song i learned from you was the spanish version of “i just can’t stop loving you” because i didn’t know any english yet. i sang all of your songs with all my heart anyway, feeling every word even when i didn’t fully understand.
because of you, i fell in love with english. i wanted to understand your lyrics, to connect with the messages you poured into every track. you became my bridge to a whole new language and a deeper appreciation for music. eventually, the first full english song i learned was "man in the mirror," and those words about making a change and starting with yourself still echo in me today.
thank you for the inspiration, the healing, and the unforgettable artistry. your pure heart and spirit live on in every note, every dance move, and every heart you touched. you taught me (us) that change starts within, that music could heal, uplift, and transform.
you’ll always be the king. we miss you. we will always keep your legacy alive.
Hi, I hope in the missing piece Jaafar and y/n make it official at the Michael premier and he is totally head over heels about her and hyping her up to all the interviewers and posting her on Instagram maybe sneaking off somewhere and jermajesty acting a fool like always lol.
This account, wittypathsecret, and I also really wanted a one-shot. A rather bizarre request from Jaafar to a reader, where you force him to read a book to you while you satisfy him 🫠🫠
WAIT, what’s going on with the books requests? ahah I just wrote a request about bookworm!reader and jaafar where they recreate a spicy scene lol
I will definitely write about this 🙂↕️ just give me some time to plan it hehe
