off the record - jaafar jackson x journalist!reader (FINISHED 10 CHAPTERS)
⤿ wattpad version (ONGOING)
the spotlight effect - jaafar jackson x popstar!reader (ONGOING)
the missing piece - jaafar jackson x reader (best friend’s brother)
pairing: jaafar jackson x reader (brother’s best friend)
summary: in which jermajesty meddles, y/n and jaafar spend an entire afternoon together, and tomorrow suddenly becomes very important.
part 1, part 2, part 3
word count: 5,238
an: i almost didn’t post lol i was so tired but I SAID TODAY SO HERE IT IS <333
The group chat appeared on a Tuesday morning while Y/N was standing in line for coffee, mentally preparing herself for another workday and wondering whether surviving on caffeine alone technically counted as a life choice. The first notification barely registered. The second earned a brief glance. By the third, she sighed and reached for her phone with the weary resignation of someone who already knew exactly who was responsible.
Years of friendship had conditioned her well.
There were only a handful of people capable of generating this level of unnecessary chaos before nine in the morning and Jermajesty sat comfortably at the top of that list.
The moment she unlocked her screen, she immediately understood why her phone had nearly vibrated itself off the counter.
Jermajesty 🥳 created "victims of my genius"
Jermajesty 🥳 added Unknown number
Jermajesty 🥳 added Y/N
For several seconds she simply stared.
It felt so entirely like something Jermajesty would do that she could practically picture the sequence of events unfolding in real time. He'd had the idea. Congratulated himself on the idea. Executed the idea without consulting anybody involved. Then sat back expecting gratitude for services nobody had requested.
The line moved forward without her noticing.
It wasn't until somebody behind her cleared their throat politely that Y/N realized she'd been standing perfectly still in the middle of a busy coffee shop, staring at her phone while the rest of the world continued functioning around her.
Muttering an apology, she stepped forward.
Another notification appeared before she reached the counter.
Jermajesty 🥳
now you have each other's numbers
you're welcome
The audacity of it actually made her laugh.
Of course he would phrase it like that. Of course he would act as though he'd single handedly solved an international crisis rather than create a group chat. There was something almost admirable about the confidence. Completely undeserved confidence, but confidence nonetheless.
She ordered her coffee and by the time she reached the end of the counter, a final notification had appeared.
Jermajesty 🥳 left the conversation.
Y/N stopped walking again.
The man truly possessed no survival instincts whatsoever.
For a moment she simply stood there holding her receipt, looking at the screen while the reality of the situation settled around her. The chat remained open. Jermajesty's dramatic exit sat near the top. Beneath it rested a phone number she didn't have saved.
She didn't need to ask who it belonged to, there was nobody else it could be. The realization arrived immediately and it was followed almost instantly by another one.
Expectation.
Small enough to miss if she wasn't paying attention, brief enough to disappear the second she noticed it.
Some part of her found herself looking at the screen and wondering whether he was going to say anything. The awareness irritated her on principle and before she could examine it further, the typing bubble appeared.
Y/N hated how quickly her attention locked onto it.
For several seconds it lingered there. Then disappeared. Then returned.
Finally:
Unknown Number
i think we just got abandoned
The smile arrived before she could stop it.
Y/N
cowardly behaviour honestly
The response arrived almost immediately.
Unknown Number
he's probably very proud of himself
Y/N laughed quietly as she collected her coffee.
Y/N
that's the worst part
he definitely is
Unknown Number
he's probably waiting for us to thank him
Y/N
he'll be waiting a long time
Unknown Number
good
The conversation should have ended there.
Logically speaking, it made perfect sense.
The group chat existed solely because Jermajesty possessed too much free time and not nearly enough shame. The issue had been acknowledged. The culprit had been identified. Justice, while unlikely, had at least been discussed.
Instead, the typing bubble appeared again.
Jaafar
it's jaafar btw
just in case jer forgot that detail too
The laugh escaped before she could stop it.
Y/N
honestly i'm impressed he remembered our names
Jaafar
😂
The exchange lasted less than five minutes. The entire conversation probably contained fewer than thirty words. By all reasonable standards, it should have been forgettable yet somehow, throughout the rest of the day, Y/N found herself thinking about it more than once.
Not the messages themselves but the feeling of them. The strange simplicity of opening her phone and finding him there.
The thought surfaced unexpectedly while she ate lunch. Again while she waited at a traffic light after work. Later still while brushing her teeth before bed.
Each time she ignored it because there wasn't really anything to think about. They'd exchanged a handful of messages adn that was all.
The problem was that Wednesday arrived. Then Thursday and somehow the conversation never entirely stopped. Not continuously, neither of them spent hours glued to their phones. Entire stretches of the day passed without messages. Sometimes one replied hours later and sometimes neither responded until the next morning.
Yet the conversation remained alive.
A tiktok would appear.
A photograph.
A random observation.
Something Abu Bakr had apparently done.
Something Jermajesty had apparently said.
The subjects themselves barely mattered the point was that they kept finding reasons to reach for the conversation again.
By Thursday afternoon, Y/N was standing in the pasta aisle of a supermarket trying to remember which brand she'd bought last time when her phone vibrated in her pocket.
The reaction happened before she could stop it.
Her attention shifted instantly.
Jaafar
are you coming saturday?
Y/N frowned.
Y/N
where?
The response arrived so quickly she almost suspected he'd been waiting.
Jaafar
the family bbq
pool day
apparently attendance is mandatory
A laugh escaped immediately.
Y/N
says who?
This time the typing bubble appeared almost instantly.
Jaafar
me of course
The smile arrived before she could stop it, again, for the hundredth time that week. And, for reasons she still couldn't properly explain, it remained there long after she'd put her phone away.
Saturday arrived wrapped in sunlight and the kind of heat that seemed determined to settle over the city before noon.
By the time Y/N was standing in front of her mirror, the barbecue was still several hours away and yet she had already changed twice. The realization irritated her almost immediately. Not because she couldn't find something to wear. Her wardrobe was full of perfectly acceptable options and the occasion itself hardly demanded extensive preparation. The Jackson family hosted some variation of a barbecue, pool day, birthday celebration or spontaneous gathering often enough that she'd stopped considering them events years ago. Most of the time she showed up wearing whatever happened to be clean, spent several hours getting dragged into activities she hadn't agreed to participate in, and went home later wondering how an afternoon had somehow disappeared so quickly.
Today should have felt exactly the same.
Instead, she found herself standing motionless in front of her wardrobe holding a red bikini she hadn't worn in months while engaging in an internal debate she had absolutely no interest in having.
The argument itself was ridiculous.
People wore bikinis to pool parties, that was the entire purpose of pool parties.
The logic seemed perfectly sound until she actually put it on and found herself staring at her reflection for a moment longer than necessary before immediately becoming annoyed with herself for doing so. The irritation only deepened when she realized she was now considering outfit choices for the walk between the house and the pool as though anyone would care.
Nobody would.
The thought should have settled the matter but it didn't because somewhere beneath the practical considerations and increasingly unconvincing excuses sat a realization she was trying very hard not to examine too closely.
She was looking forward to today.
The realization hovered at the edge of her thoughts while she brushed her hair quiclly and reached for her bag. Every attempt to ignore it seemed to make it more noticeable. The problem wasn't that she didn't understand why she was excited. The problem was that she understood perfectly well and preferred not to acknowledge it.
The drive to the Jackson house provided entirely too much time to think.
Traffic moved steadily. Music played softly through the speakers. Outside, the city drifted past in familiar fragments of sunlight and weekend activity. Yet her thoughts kept wandering elsewhere, returning repeatedly to the same place they'd been returning all week.
The messages. They had started with the group chat then somehow it hadn't stopped.
The conversations themselves weren't particularly remarkable when examined individually. Most of them were ridiculous, if anything. Photographs of dogs that looked suspiciously similar to Jaafar's infamous painting. Arguments regarding films neither of them had actually finished watching. An increasingly passionate disagreement about whether pineapple belonged on pizza. The subjects changed constantly. The point was that they kept finding reasons to continue talking.
One day she'd found herself checking her phone during lunch because she'd remembered something funny and wanted to send it to him.
The next she'd caught herself smiling at a notification before she'd even opened the message.
Then Thursday had become Friday and suddenly texting him no longer felt like a deliberate action. It had simply become part of her day.
The awareness followed her all the way to the driveway.
The familiar sounds of a Jackson gathering greeted her almost immediately. The entire house seemed alive with movement, carrying the familiar energy she'd come to associate with family gatherings over the years.
By the time she reached the backyard gate, she found herself smiling because some places possessed the ability to make people feel welcome before they even arrived.
The moment she stepped through, Jermajesty appeared.
'Aha, look who finally decided to show up.'
The grin arrived before the greeting had even finished leaving his mouth.
Y/N narrowed her eyes immediately looking at the time on her phone.
'I am literally on time.'
'According to who?'
'According to clocks.' She points her phone.
Jermajesty looked unconvinced.
The resulting hug interrupted whatever argument she was preparing next, and within moments they had fallen back into the familiar rhythm established through years of friendship. Conversations with Jermajesty rarely followed any recognizable structure. One topic flowed into another. Stories interrupted each other halfway through. By the time he'd finished explaining some ongoing disagreement with Randy Jr., Y/N had already forgotten how the conversation had started.
The backyard was busy enough that Y/N should have had plenty of things competing for her attention. Somebody had claimed responsibility for the grill and was treating it with the seriousness of a military operation. Music drifted lazily from a speaker hidden somewhere near the patio. Several younger cousins were already in the pool despite the fact that most of the adults hadn't even settled into their chairs yet. The entire afternoon carried the familiar energy of a Jackson gathering, the kind she'd spent enough years around to navigate almost instinctively. Usually, arriving meant stepping directly into whatever conversation happened to be nearest and allowing the day to unfold from there.
Instead, the moment Jaafar stepped through the patio doors, everything else seemed to blur slightly around the edges.
Jermajesty was still talking. Y/N was vaguely aware of that. Something about the last episode of The Rookie, she thought. Or maybe basketball. The details slipped past her before she could properly register them. Her attention had already moved elsewhere, pulled toward the figure crossing the patio with sunglasses pushed down his nose and a baseball cap shielding his eyes from the afternoon sun.
An entire week of messages had made seeing him today feel inevitable. Somewhere between arguments about pizza toppings and photographs exchanged at random hours of the day, he'd stopped feeling like someone she occasionally ran into through Jermajesty and started feeling like a person who occupied an actual place in her routine. Not a large one. Not enough to justify the amount of attention she seemed determined to give him. Yet present enough that she'd caught herself wondering more than once what he was doing before he'd eventually appeared on her screen to answer the question himself.
Now he was here and somehow that felt different. The distance between texting somebody and standing in front of them turned out to be larger than she'd expected because messages didn't smile at her from across a backyard. Messages didn't walk toward her looking unfairly comfortable in the afternoon heat. Messages certainly didn't make it impossible to remember whatever Jermajesty had been saying for the last thirty seconds.
'There she is.'
The grin arrived before she could answer. Predictably. Instantly. As though he'd spent the entire walk across the yard deciding that would be the first thing he said.
'There I am.'
'You came.'
The statement was simple enough. Casual. Yet something about it lodged itself stubbornly beneath her ribs.
He sounded pleased.
As though her being there had been the expected outcome all along.
As though there had never been a version of the afternoon where she didn't show up.
'Apparently attendance was mandatory.' She repeated what he texted her the other day.
His laugh escaped immediately. 'Says who?'
'You.'
Conversation slipped into place almost immediately after that. Not because either of them made an effort to keep it moving, but because talking to one another had somehow become easy. The transition happened so smoothly she couldn't identify where one topic ended and another began.
The afternoon settled into its own rhythm after that, the kind that seemed unique to large family gatherings where nobody was entirely sure who had arrived, who was cooking, or how many people were actually staying for dinner.
She spent most of it talking.
That wasn't unusual. The Jackson family had always possessed a remarkable ability to absorb people into conversations whether they intended to participate or not. One moment she was helping Alejandra carry drinks outside, the next she was listening to an aunt she hadn't seen in months recount a story from fifteen years ago as though Y/N had been there to witness it herself. Somewhere in between, Randy Jr. appeared and attempted to convince three separate people that a film he'd watched recently deserved a second chance. Judging by the reactions around him, the campaign was not going particularly well.
Yet through all of it, her attention kept catching on the same thing, or rather, the same person.
Not continuously, like she wasn't standing around staring at Jaafar from across the backyard. The thought alone was enough to make her cringe. It happened in smaller moments than that. She'd be halfway through a conversation and hear his laugh from somewhere nearby. She'd glance up while reaching for a drink and find him talking to one of his cousins near the pool. At one point she looked over because somebody had mentioned his name only to discover he was already looking in her direction, the brief smile that followed arriving so easily it felt less like a greeting and more like the continuation of a conversation they'd temporarily paused.
The familiarity of it sat strangely with her.
Only a few weeks ago, Jaafar had occupied the same category as countless other people she'd heard about through Jermajesty over the years. Somebody she knew of rather than somebody she knew. Now she could identify the sound of his laugh from across a crowded backyard. She knew which topics would make him argue purely for the sake of arguing. She knew he replied to messages surprisingly quickly when he was bored and suspiciously slowly when he was trying to seem busy. She knew that whenever Abu Bakr started explaining something, Jaafar listened with complete seriousness no matter how ridiculous the explanation became. The knowledge had accumulated gradually enough that she hadn't noticed it happening until now.
Perhaps that was why Jermajesty's announcement felt less like the beginning of something and more like an interruption.
The conversation nearest the pool stopped first. Then another. A few heads turned. Whatever idea had taken hold of him was already visible on his face, that familiar expression of somebody entirely too pleased with himself. Years of friendship had taught Y/N to be wary whenever he looked like that. Experience suggested that the more satisfied he appeared, the more likely everybody else was about to suffer.
'Pool volleyball.'
The declaration was met with exactly the level of enthusiasm she'd expected. Far too much.
Within minutes people were moving toward the water with the kind of commitment usually reserved for genuinely important activities. Somebody started arguing about rules before teams had even been decided. Randy Jr. immediately volunteered himself. A cousin protested a decision nobody had made yet. Another cousin attempted to establish scoring regulations despite the fact that nobody seemed entirely sure whether there would even be scoring. The entire thing unfolded with such inevitability that Y/N found herself laughing before she'd even agreed to participate.
Not that agreement seemed particularly relevant.
By the time she reached the edge of the pool, Jermajesty had apparently appointed himself organizer, referee and commissioner of whatever sporting event he believed he was running. The role suited him far too well. The authority was entirely imaginary, yet he carried it with enough confidence that people kept listening anyway.
'Me and Randy.'
Nobody objected.
His gaze shifted toward the opposite side of the pool where Jaafar was standing with his arms folded across his chest, already looking more invested in the outcome than anyone reasonably should have.
'You and Y/N.'
For a moment, the noise around them continued uninterrupted. People kept talking. Somebody splashed water. A younger cousin cannonballed into the deep end despite immediate protests from three different adults. Randy Jr. was already complaining about the teams before the game had even started. Yet Y/N became aware of Jaafar glancing in her direction at almost the exact same time she looked at him, amusement already pulling at the corner of his mouth as though the outcome pleased him far more than he intended to admit.
The smile that appeared on her own face arrived before she could stop it.
Jaafar simply stepped past Jermajesty and stopped beside her, close enough that she caught the faint scent of sunscreen and chlorine lingering from the pool.
The conversation dissolved beneath a chorus of objections from everybody else. Randy wanted different teams. One of the cousins wanted to know why nobody had picked him. Somebody else was still arguing about rules. Through all of it, Jaafar simply stepped past Jermajesty and stopped beside her.
'Ready to lose?'
The confidence in his voice was astonishing.
Y/N looked at him. Then laughed.
'That's bold considering we haven't even started.'
'I'm speaking it into existence, manifesting as they call it.'
'That's not how winning works.'
'Mh, we’ll see.'
The ease of the exchange settled over her before she had time to think about it. It felt strangely natural now, slipping into conversation with him. The effortlessness still caught her off guard occasionally. Most people required time. Friendships developed gradually. Familiarity arrived in layers yet every interaction with Jaafar seemed to pick up exactly where the previous one had left off, as though some invisible conversation had been running continuously in the background ever since they met.
Around them, the backyard continued slipping gradually toward chaos. Somebody had produced a volleyball. Somebody else was insisting it wasn't the right kind of volleyball despite the fact that nobody present seemed particularly qualified to make that distinction. Randy had become involved in an argument he was unlikely to win. Jermajesty, meanwhile, looked entirely too pleased with himself, which usually meant everybody else was about to suffer. The entire afternoon had taken on the familiar shape of a Jackson gathering, where plans emerged organically, acquired participants before anyone officially agreed to them, and somehow became mandatory within minutes.
Jaafar should have been paying attention.
Instead, his attention drifted elsewhere.
Later, if somebody asked, he probably wouldn't have been able to identify the exact moment it happened. One second he was half-listening to Randy complain about the teams. The next, Y/N reached for the tie at the waist of her pool dress and everything after that became significantly more complicated.
The movement itself was completely ordinary. There wasn't anything particularly noteworthy about it. People had been arriving at the pool all afternoon, shedding oversized shirts, cover-ups and summer layers as naturally as breathing. Y/N seemed entirely unconcerned with the action, more interested in whatever Randy was currently saying than in the lightweight fabric she was pulling over her head. If anything, the absence of self-consciousness made it worse. There was no awareness behind it. No attempt to draw attention to herself. She simply stepped out of the dress the same way everyone else around the pool had stepped out of theirs.
That was the first coherent thought that surfaced.
The color stood out against the bright blue water behind her, vivid enough to draw the eye without trying. Sunlight reflected across the pool in shifting patterns, catching briefly against her skin before disappearing again beneath the movement of the water. For a moment, all he could really do was look. Not in the exaggerated way Randy or Jermajesty would inevitably accuse him of later. Just long enough for the image to settle. Long enough to register the fact that seeing her through a phone screen and seeing her standing a few feet away were apparently two very different experiences.
The frustrating part was that his brain refused to stop there because once he'd noticed her, he started noticing everything else.
The sunglasses she'd pushed onto the top of her head.
The way the afternoon heat had left a few loose strands of hair escaping around her face.
The way she laughed when Randy said something ridiculous, tipping her head back slightly before immediately arguing with him again.
The ease with which she moved through the backyard, stopping to talk to cousins, helping his mother with the drinks, slipping naturally into conversations as though she'd belonged there forever.
The red bikini happened to be standing at the center of his thoughts, that was all, at least that was what he told himself. Unfortunately, the explanation felt increasingly unconvincing the longer he looked at her.
Because the truth was that she looked beautiful as the kind that made it difficult to focus on conversations happening around him. The kind that made a perfectly ordinary Saturday afternoon suddenly feel far less ordinary than it had a few minutes earlier.
The backyard rushed back into focus. Music. Conversations. Water splashing against the side of the pool. Somebody calling for the ball. Jermajesty shouting instructions nobody intended to follow.
Across the patio, Y/N happened to glance up at exactly the wrong moment. Their eyes met almost instantly. The smile that appeared on her face was easy, familiar and entirely unguarded, the same smile she'd been giving him all afternoon.
A whistle interrupted whatever thought he was having.
Nobody knew where the whistle had come from, nobody knew who owned it. Jermajesty was holding it anyway.
The game, apparently, had begun.
The transformation in Jaafar was almost immediate.
His attention sharpened. His focus narrowed. Whatever easygoing energy he'd been carrying through the afternoon shifted subtly toward something more competitive. The change reminded her of athletes before matches or performers before stepping onstage, that small adjustment that happened when somebody became fully invested in what they were doing.
It was pool volleyball.
He looked ready for war.
'Okay.'
Y/N turned toward him as they stepped into the shallow end.
The seriousness in his voice already made her suspicious. 'Why do you sound like a coach?'
'Because we need a strategy.'
For a moment she simply stared at him, pressed her lips together.
The laugh escaped anyway.
'You cannot be serious.'
'I am.'
'Jaafar.'
'Y/N.'
'It's pool volleyball.'
'Exactly.'
The answer came so quickly she almost laughed again.
As though pool volleyball deserved preparation. As though there were tactical advantages to consider. As though the outcome of the afternoon somehow depended on their performance.
'Okay,' she said, folding her arms. 'Go on then.'
His eyebrows lifted slightly. 'Go on what?'
'The strategy.'
The smile that appeared immediately told her she had made a mistake.
For the next several minutes, Y/N found herself listening to Jaafar explain the strengths and weaknesses of their opponents with a level of commitment usually reserved for professional athletes. Randy, according to him, got distracted easily. Jermajesty became overconfident whenever he started winning. Communication would be important. Positioning mattered. Momentum mattered.
By the time he started discussing momentum, Y/N had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing.
Sunlight reflected across the water between them, shifting and breaking apart every time somebody moved nearby. The pool reached just above her waist here. Every now and then a small wave rolled through from the deeper end from the others' movement, nudging them slightly closer before drifting away again. Neither seemed to notice.
'You're making fun of me.'
The accusation arrived midway through his explanation.
Y/N blinked. 'What?'
'You're smiling.'
The fact that he sounded genuinely offended only made things worse.
'I'm not smiling.'
'You are. You want to laugh.'
'I am not.'
'You absolutely are.'
Now she was laughing again, the sound slipped out before she could stop it, carrying easily across the water.
Jaafar shook his head. 'This is why people underestimate us.'
'There's an us now?'
'There has to be. We're a team.'
Across from them, Jermajesty finally blew the whistle he'd somehow acquired.
'GAME TIME!'
The shout echoed across the backyard, immediately followed by Randy complaining about the whistle.
Y/N laughed.
Jaafar rolled his eyes and then, with all the seriousness of a man preparing for battle, he looked back at her.
'Ready?'
The smile tugging at the corner of his mouth ruined the effect entirely.
Y/N grinned.
'Let's win this thing.'
The game itself became a blur almost immediately.
Y/N would remember fragments rather than a coherent sequence of events. Jermajesty complaining about a point he'd absolutely lost. Randy insisting the rules had changed midway through the game. Somebody keeping score and then immediately forgetting what the score actually was. The details blurred together beneath sunlight, splashing water and the constant noise of half a dozen conversations happening at once.
What she remembered clearly was Jaafar, not because he was particularly good at pool volleyball, though, annoyingly enough, he was, but because somewhere during the first few minutes, he seemed to forget the concept of personal space entirely.
The first time it happened, she barely thought about it.
The ball had drifted farther than expected. Both of them moved at the same time. Before she could adjust, a hand landed lightly against her waist, steering her a few inches to the side.
'I've got it.'
The words arrived at the same time the ball did.
A second later it was gone again.
The touch lasted barely a moment.
The pool forced everyone closer together than they would've been on land. Movement required balance. Balance occasionally required help. Every explanation felt perfectly reasonable.
Yet somehow, Jaafar always seemed to be nearby.
A hand at the small of her back while maneuvering around her in the water. Fingers wrapping briefly around her wrist when she nearly drifted directly into his path. His arm brushing hers every time they celebrated a point.
At one point, Y/N managed a surprisingly decent save that sent the ball back into play. The reaction from Jaafar was immediate.
'LET'S GO!'
Before she could react, his hands were on her shoulders.
A second later he was grinning at her like she'd just won them a championship. The enthusiasm was so genuine that she couldn't help laughing.
By the time the game finally approached its end, Y/N couldn't have told anyone what the score was.
Only that they were winning.
Only that Jaafar seemed very pleased about it.
Only that every time she looked up, he was already looking at her.
The game ended the same way it had unfolded: loudly, chaotically and with absolutely no consensus regarding what had actually happened.
Jermajesty was still arguing about the final point by the time Y/N climbed out of the pool. Randy was arguing back. Several cousins had inserted themselves into the debate despite not having participated. The volleyball had already been abandoned somewhere near the patio and nobody seemed particularly interested in retrieving it. Around them, the backyard was beginning its slow transition back into smaller conversations and scattered groups, the brief collective focus dissolving as people returned to food, drinks and whatever they had been doing before the game took over the afternoon.
Y/N barely paid attention.
The exertion had left her pleasantly tired, her skin still warm from the sun and the water dripping steadily from the ends of her hair as she crossed toward the lounge chairs. She grabbed the towel she'd left earlier, pressing the fabric briefly against her face before beginning the familiar process of trying to dry hair that was far too thick to cooperate. The noise of the barbecue continued around her unchanged.
It should have felt like every other summer afternoon she'd spent there.
Instead, she found herself glancing up.
Jaafar was standing a few yards away doing exactly the same thing.
His hair was damp and slightly flattened from the water, curls falling across his forehead while he worked a towel through them with one hand. He appeared to be listening to Randy Jr., who was still passionately defending whatever version of events he believed had occurred, but the attention wasn't entirely convincing.
Mostly because the moment Y/N looked over, he looked over too.
Neither of them looked away immediately. There was nothing deliberate in the glance. No performance. No awareness that anyone else might be watching. Just a brief, ordinary moment that somehow lasted a fraction longer than it should have before reality reasserted itself and both of them remembered there were other people in the backyard.
Y/N looked down first, enough to break whatever invisible thread had stretched unexpectedly between them.
The problem was that it happened again.
A few minutes later she glanced up while squeezing water from the ends of her hair and found him looking in her direction. Not directly this time. Not quite. The sort of glance that suggested his attention had wandered naturally before getting caught somewhere it hadn't intended to stay. She looked away. Then looked back a minute later and discovered she wasn't the only one apparently failing at the task.
The entire situation felt absurd. Like there were probably thirty people in the backyard, conversations happening everywhere, music food, children running through the house.
Yet somehow she kept becoming aware of him.
The towel hanging around his neck.
The way he laughed at something Jermajesty said.
The way his smile seemed to arrive gradually rather than all at once.
Details that should have been insignificant.
Details that would've been insignificant a month ago.
That was perhaps the most frustrating part.
A month ago she wouldn't have noticed any of this.
A month ago Jaafar existed mostly as a name attached to stories. Somebody she'd heard about often enough to form an impression without ever really knowing him. Now she could identify his laugh from across a crowded backyard. Now she knew exactly what expression appeared whenever he thought he was winning an argument. Now she found herself noticing when he walked into a room and, even more annoyingly, when he wasn't there.
When Jaafar finally wandered over, it felt less like somebody approaching and more like the inevitable conclusion to a conversation neither of them had actually been having.
'You know,' he said, stopping beside her, the remains of victory still lingering somewhere in his smile, 'I think we carried that team.'
Y/N laughed immediately.
'We carried the team?'
'Absolutely.'
'Jaafar, nobody even knows what the score was.'
'The score is irrelevant. That's how victory works.'
The confidence in his voice made her shake her head.
At some point they found themselves sitting on the edge of the pool, feet dangling in the water while the afternoon gradually softened around them. The sun hung lower now, painting everything in shades of gold that turned the surface of the pool into rippling sheets of light. The backyard remained busy, but the energy had changed. The frantic excitement of the game had faded into something slower. More comfortable.
The conversation between them wandered just as aimlessly.
Several times, Y/N found herself laughing so hard she nearly lost her balance.
Several times, Jaafar looked suspiciously pleased with himself afterward.
Beside her, Jaafar skimmed his fingers absentmindedly through the surface of the water while listening to whatever story she was currently telling. Every now and then he laughed. Every now and then she caught him smiling before she'd even reached the punchline.
The familiarity of it should have felt strange but instead, it felt natural enough to be dangerous.
Eventually, people started leaving and before long, Y/N found herself standing beside her car while saying goodbye to people one by one.
The farewell with Jaafar should have felt ordinary. It didn't.
Just a smile. A quick 'see you.' A promise to continue an argument they'd started earlier. The kind of goodbye friends exchanged every day.
Once she got home, she got directly into the shower to wash the chlorine away. She couldn’t stop thinking about the day, she had lots of fun and she ate amazing food but her thoughts kept circling around the same person.
By the time she finally climbed into bed, the afternoon existed mostly as a pleasant blur of sunlight and laughter, the sort of day that left behind a feeling rather than a sequence of memories.
Her phone buzzed.
Jermajesty.
Y/N opened the message without thinking.
The photograph loaded immediately.
For a second she simply stared.
She and Jaafar sat side by side on the edge of the pool, feet in the water. Neither was looking at the camera. In fact, neither seemed remotely aware it existed. Y/N was halfway through saying something. Jaafar was looking at her while she spoke, smiling at whatever story she'd been telling.
The image carried the effortless intimacy of a moment that hadn't known it was being observed.
A second message appeared beneath it.
Jermajesty🥳
disgustingly cute btw
Y/N immediately laughed.
Then another notification appeared.
Different conversation.
Different name.
Her smile faded.
Only because surprise arrived first.
Jaafar.
For one ridiculous second, her pulse actually sped up.
hii what are your thoughts on fans making comments about how Maddie makes Jaafar uncomfortable??? Or other negative comments, sorry if this is out of your comfort zone!!
mh, the truth is, people shouldn't focus so much on her, like at the end of the day it's him we're interested in, you know? all that will do is push jaafar even further away from the fandom :/
thinking about jaafar and how he probably loves going neck kisses and ear nibbles because why is he lowkey so toothy when he smiles omg this japan pics of him biting his lip with concentrating on signing autographs!!! whew!
I HAVE THINGS TO SAY
jaafar is obsessed with neck kisses and ear nibbles. and i just know he is the type to act completely innocent about it too.
like, he'd be standing behind you while you're doing whatever, arms loosely around your waist, looking perfectly normal, and then suddenly you'd feel his mouth brush against the side of your neck. just once. like he couldn't help himself.
and the thing is, he'd do it absentmindedly.
watching a movie? his face ends up buried in your shoulder and every few minutes he presses a kiss just below your ear.
waiting in line somewhere? chin on your shoulder. tiny kiss.
half asleep? somehow he's attached to your neck like it's a designated parking spot.
the ear thing is even worse because he knows exactly what he's doing.
and like you'd be trying to have a serious conversation and he'd lean in close enough for his lips to brush your ear when he talks, watching your entire train of thought derail in real time. then he'd smile like he has absolutely no idea why you're suddenly flustered. he’ll be also whispering something sweet, or filthy.
and listen...have you seen that smile? the man is lowkey all teeth when he grins. in a 'this man definitely bites affectionately' way.
like there's no universe where jaafar isn't the type to leave tiny playful nibbles along your jaw or your shoulder when he's feeling especially clingy. nothing dramatic. just enough to make you gasp and turn around with an offended 'jaafar!'
only for him to laugh and pull you right back into his chest. and his defense? 'i was showing affection.' as if affection and lightly treating you like a chew toy are the same thing.
Hey i js wanted to ask if you could make a part 2 of the missing piece fic you did. It was so good and detailed perfectly it has to have a second part. If you'll take suggestions can it have slight smut with sub!jaafar pls. Obviously if youre not comfortable with writing this it's completely fine. Hope you have an amazing day!!!
hi!! actually, i already posted part 2 and part 3! and today i’ll post part 4 :)
hii lowk new here, I live you’re writing sm! Is off the record continued but on a diff app?? I keep seeing all these question and I need to read what they’ve been talking about! 🕺🏻
yes!! i’m writing it on wattpad (link) hope you’ll enjoy it!! <333
no because i never even considered jealous jaafar until you wrote him and we need dat
yuh!!!
i feel like jaafar doesn’t get loud when he’s jealous. he gets quiet. like scary quiet. maybe y/n is laughing at some guy’s joke at a party and suddenly feels his eyes burning into her from across the room. he won’t storm over right away, he’ll just watch, jaw tight, fingers drumming against his glass until she feels the shift in the air.
like did you see the video of him side eyeing someone at the Japan release day? exactly. i feel like he can’t control his facial expressions sometimes, and in this case, it would be accurate. like, everybody will know how he is feeling because he can’t hide it.
and he would also be so sarcastic like, 'you seemed to be having fun with X, he’s funny huh' or something like that.
and like he tries to play it cool at first. like really tries. but the second someone lingers too long in her personal space, his hand finds the small of her back and he’s pulling her closer, smiling politely while his thumb rubs slow circles like he’s reminding both her and the other person who she's going home with.
and after he gets jealous he gets soft. like super soft. he’ll hold her a little tighter that night, kiss her slower, whisper stuff like 'you know you’re my everything, right?' while playing with her fingers, her hair, touching her skin... the jealousy doesn’t last long because deep down he knows she is his, but damn if he doesn’t feel it in his chest every single time.
