goals | jaafar jackson
pairing: jaafar x reader
word count: 4,3k
summary: where y/n and jaafar have their first public appearance at the world cup opening game
a/n: i LOVE football and when i saw that jaafar was there, i squealed and knew i had to write something about it!! (for the sake of this fic, let’s imagine there are kiss cams lmao)
warnings: established relationship
Is there ever the perfect time to make your first public appearance as a couple? Probably not. But everything inside you tells you that now isn’t the moment. You’re a bundle of nerves, even though you’re already sitting in the car, fully glammed up. You’re just mere minutes away from the stadium where you’ll be stepping out in front of cameras for the very first time after Jaafar soft launched your relationship across his social media for the past few weeks.
As a rising star in the industry, currently in the spotlight thanks to the incredible success of Michael, Jaafar was invited to the 2026 FIFA World Cup opening match between the US and Paraguay in Los Angeles. Allowed to bring guests along, he not only wanted his brothers, Jermajesty and Randy Jr., by his side, but also you, his girlfriend.
A world cup is a big thing, but nothing could have prepared you for the absolute fear surging through your every vein right now. This isn’t just any event, not just a football game. This is your first public appearance as Jaafar Jackson’s girlfriend. You first time walking a carpet. Your first time standing in front of hundreds of photographers who seem to know exactly who you are, having done their thorough research despite never even seeing you before.
A small part of you thinks that once you step out of this car, everything changes. Because before that moment, you were just you. The girl who got to spend lazy mornings and quiet evenings with Jaafar. The girl who knew every version of him but especially the one that existed away from the cameras. The girl who laughed at his absolutely terrible jokes and stole his hoodies. The girl who danced around with him in the kitchen with no worries in the world.
Today the world is going to get a glimpse of you, the girl Jaafar Jackson chose, who he loves with all of his heart. No pressure.
You feel like prey, just waiting to be devoured by the hungry predators surrounding you.
“Hey, everything alright?”, Jaafar’s gentle voice pulls you out of your spiralling thoughts, and you feel his warm hand on your thigh, giving a gentle squeeze. Slowly, you tear your gaze away from the passing view outside the window and turn toward him. His brown eyes meet yours, warm and steady, carrying that familiar softness you always get lost in.
“Y-Yeah.” Not very convincing.
“You look like you’re about to jump out of the car”, he remarks with a soft smile.
You let out a nervous laugh, glancing down at your hand that you now intertwine with his on your thigh. You avert your gaze again, not being able to stand the pure affection you find in his eyes, meant only for you.
Jaafar has always had a way of seeing through you. It doesn’t matter how carefully you try to hide your emotions, how much effort you put into looking calm and collected. He notices the little things. The way your fingers fidget. The way your breathing changes. The way you stare out the window, letting a storm of thoughts consume you. You really tried to not look overwhelmed and apparently, you terribly failed.
“Sorry”, you shrug with a shy smile, nervously smoothing down your pants with your free hand. Since the dress code isn’t super formal – it is a football match after all – you’re wearing a cream tailored fitted vest and flowing wide-leg trousers. Subtle jewellery adorns your ears, wrists and fingers and black sunglasses tie everything together. Your outfit perfectly complements that of Jaafar, who is wearing a cream button-down shirt with a textured pattern, left slightly open at the collar, paired with matching tailored trousers that give him a relaxed yet polished look. The soft neutral tones compliment his warm complexion, while the dark sunglasses add just enough edge. Jaafar, as always, looks effortlessly put together, which somehow makes it unfair and so much more difficult for you.
He isn’t dressed like he is trying to impress anyone while you, on the other hand, are very much trying to do just that.
His brothers also match the colour scheme, all dressed in cream, white and black. A choice that also subtly signals which team you’re rooting for. That is at least for today, because the three of them are supporting Colombia as well while you are rooting for your country, too.
“Don’t be”, Jaafar says with a slight grin, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “You’re going to do amazing. They’ll love you.”
Easy for him to say. He’s already accustomed to the spotlight, the cameras, the eyes. Everyone loves him. Of course they do. There is nothing to not love about him. But the idea of millions of strangers having opinions about you and your relationship makes your stomach twist in discomfort.
“I just don’t want to mess this up”, you admit quietly.
Jaafar’s eyebrows pull together like he has a hard time understanding what you just said. “Baby..”, he starts and the nickname makes your heart jump. “You’re not going to mess anything up.”
“Unless you trip”, Jermajesty adds out of nowhere, sitting across from you. He had been playing on his phone just moments ago, but the conversation didn’t go past him. Not that he could have missed it, you’re literally sitting right in front of him.
“Bro.”
Randy next to him snorts but quickly regains his composure and jabs his elbow into Jermajesty’s side, being the older, responsible one and all that. Jaafar, on the other hand, shoots his brothers a death glare.
“What? I’m just preparing her for every eventuality. I didn’t say it would happen!”, Jermajesty immediately defends himself, raising his hands in surrender.
“Not helpful.”
“Maybe keep your tips to yourself next time”, Jaafar suggests with a smile so bittersweet it makes his brother swallow hard. It’s a smile that is somehow both amused and threatening enough to make Jermajesty hesitate.
“Nah. I promise if anyone is going to mess it up, it’s going to be me”, Jermajesty says with such confidence as if he has already planned the entire disaster in his head. “Aaaaand I’ll shut up now”, he quickly adds when he receives another death glare, basically jumping headfirst back into his phone.
Despite yourself, you laugh. Somehow, their banter was exactly what you needed. The nerves that had been twisting your stomach begin to loosen. You know that you are not alone. That when you step out of this car, you won’t just have Jaafar beside you. You’ll have people who genuinely want you to feel comfortable, who will stand beside you and make sure you feel safe.
“I got you, baby”, Jaafar whispers softly, guiding your intertwined hands to his mouth to place a gentle kiss on the back of your hand without breaking eye contact. The warmth radiating from him, his touch, his presence, the certainty in his eyes, slowly melts away the tension you’ve been carrying, your shoulders slumping back into the seat. You can’t help but lean over and give him a quick kiss to the cheek, making him smile brightly.
It takes around two more minutes to reach the venue and you immediately tense up again, your breath catching in your throat. With the stadium towering ahead, your gaze falls on the throngs of photographers lining the blue carpet, eagerly waiting for the next celebrity guest. It isn’t until the car door opens that the sounds from outside truly reach you: distant music from the stadium, the constant clicking and shuttering of thousands of cameras, and people.
Jermajesty and Randy step out of the car first, followed closely by Jaafar though not before he whispers a few more reassuring words into your ear.
“Eyes on me.”
“What?”
“When it gets overwhelming, just look at me.”
Like the true gentleman he is, he waits by the door and extends his hand to help you out of the car. Meanwhile, his brothers are already posing for photos in front of the backdrop, completely comfortable in all the chaos.
You, however, feel like your knees might give way beneath you. You place your hand in Jaafar’s and let him gently pull you out of the car, making sure you don’t trip (even though Jermajesty would have probably loved if you did, proving his prediction). The second you are out of the car and the first photographer spots you, the shouting grows impossibly louder.
“Jaafar!”
“Over here!”
“Jaafar, a picture with your girlfriend!”
“Can we get one together?”
“Look this way!”
To say you are overwhelmed is an understatement, your heart racing, but Jaafar makes sure to tightly secure your hand in his, leading you onto the carpet and in front of the backdrop. Lights flash in an instant, not allowing you to even get into position.
Jaafar’s hand slides to the small of your back naturally, allowing him to pull you against his side without obscuring your matching outfits. You can’t help but grin, his closeness automatically calming your nerves by each second. Both of you smile at the cameras, giving them time to get the perfect shot of you, giving them exactly what they came for.
“One without the sunglasses!”
You both immediately follow the request, taking off your sunglasses to give them unrestricted views of your faces. Jaafar gives you a playful pinch at the waist that catches you off guard, making you look up at him with a giggle, one hand resting on his chest. The cameras keep snapping photos of you, even when you stop paying them any attention and simply gaze at each other. Which is exactly what Jaafar had in mind: making you forget everything around you, focussing solely on him.
Later, this will turn out to be your favourite photo: the two of you looking at each other with unconditional affection, beaming smiles and a look that suggests you’re in a world of your own.
“Can we get a picture of just her?”
The request takes you completely by surprise, but before you can even react, Jaafar smiles proudly and steps aside to leave the spotlight to you without any hesitation. At first, you hold tight onto his hand, your eyes practically pleading with him to stay, but he gives you such an encouraging smile that you can’t help but go along with it.
Suddenly, you feel incredibly shy without him by your side, but the photographers are telling you exactly how they want you to pose and what to do. You give them what they want, and maybe even a little more, and realize you’re actually starting to enjoy it a little. Standing nearby, Jaafar looks incredibly proud as if he were witnessing something beautiful, something he had never seen before in his life and now cannot tear his eyes away from. He truly is your biggest supporter.
It doesn’t take long before Jaafar is back by your side, and the two of you move along the carpet as a unit, heading toward the far end where his brothers are already waiting. Both of them are looking at you with broad, knowing smiles, making you lower your head in embarrassment as you reach them.
“There they are!”
“The celebrities.”
“Don’t even star-”
“How was it, little Miss I’m-so-scared-I’ll-mess-it-up-but-end-up-stealing-everyone’s-spotlight-anyway?”, Randy interrupts, clearly enjoying himself, not letting the opportunity pass to tease you a little. All three of them knew you would do an amazing job. There was never any doubt about it.
“Why’s no one asking me?”, Jaafar says, rolling his eyes dramatically as he slips his hand from yours and flexes his fingers with an exaggerated pout. “Might need a new hand.”
Your eyes drop to his hand immediately. “Oh God. Did I squeeze too hard?”, you ask in alarm, wasting no time in taking his hand between both of yours and cupping it as if it were the most precious thing in the world. In a way, it was – like an anchor keeping you steady. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, baby.”
The concern on your face causes his teasing expression to break.
“I’m just playing with you, baby. It’s all good”, Jaafar laughs, flashing you one of his perfect smiles before he gently frees his hand from yours, placing it against your chin and tilting your face toward him. Then he presses a soft kiss to the corner of your lips.
“So.. are you guys going to pounce on each other, or can we go inside?”, Jermajesty asks in all seriousness, making you burst out laughing. Jaafar gestures for them to go ahead and you follow them. On the way to your seats, Jaafar interlocks your fingers again.
“You okay?”, he asks quietly.
“Yeah.”
As soon as you step out into the stands, it finally hits you where you are and what a special event this is. Who gets to say they attended the opening match of a World Cup and in the very country where they live, no less? The atmosphere is ecstatic, unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. Thousands upon thousands of people are filling the stadium, flags waving, chants echoing.
Randy leads the way and finds your seats with ease. They are located in the main stand in a separate area reserved for special guests, so-called “Business-Seats”, allowing for a bit of privacy and security. It even has an exclusive lounge offering catering before, during, and after the match. Eventually, you find yourself in a seat between Jaafar and Jermajesty, with Randy on Jermajesty’s other side.
Your body is still overflowing with adrenaline from before, making it nearly impossible for you to sit completely still. You look around constantly, taking everything in: the massive screens, the field, the crowd. Everything feels entirely surreal.
You snap a few photos to look at later and maybe even post. Since your relationship is completely official now, you’re free to post whatever you want without having to worry that people might piece together who you were with, or where and when you were there. You don’t have to hide anymore and even pose for the boys’ selfies.
You notice Jaafar’s camera land on you, making you smile shyly. You lean against his shoulder to catch a glimpse of his phone and thus his snapshot.
“Delete that one”, you say immediately, feeling embarrassed about the way you look in it.
“No”, Jaafar replies, holding his phone out of reach so you can’t make a grab for it.
“Jaafar”, you whine, trying to reach it anyway.
“It’s cute.”
“It’s not!”
“It is! You look so excited.”
You roll your eyes, but you can’t stop smiling nevertheless.
“Any predictions?”, Jermajesty eventually asks, looking between all of you with an amused smile. “Winner gets to choose where we’re eating tonight. Losers are paying.”
“2:0”, Randy replies, sliding his sunglasses back over his eyes as the sun hits his face.
“3:0”, you state with no hesitation, feeling confident in your answer.
“3:1”, Jaafar immediately chimes in, looking at you with a playful sparkle in his eyes that tells you the challenge is on.
“I’m going with 4:1”, Jermajesty claims with an approving look at the line-up on his phone.
“In your dreams maybe”, you giggle. He places a hand over his chest, pretending to be offended.
“Wow. No faith in our team?”
“I’m just being realistic”, you respond with a sweet smile. Jermajesty opens his mouth to argue some more but is quickly shut down as music fills the arena and the lights dim. The opening ceremony begins shortly after, and the entire stadium seems to come alive. The field transforms into a celebration of football, culture, and everything that makes the World Cup such a massive event.
You all watch in awe, completely captivated.
At one point, the cameras begin scanning the VIP sections and the giant screens above the field show some of the celebrities attending the match: Tom Cruise, Leonardo DiCaprio, David Beckham. The crowd immediately reacts every time someone familiar appears.
You watch along with everyone else, but deep down, you can feel the nerves slowly creeping back in. Because if the camera is scanning the VIP section, what’s stopping it from landing on Jaafar? And if it lands on Jaafar, it will inevitably land on you.
Your hand unconsciously tightens around his for a moment, but thankfully, the camera moves on before you have to worry about being on the giant screens. A small sigh of relief escapes you.
You are not too keen on a full stadium of seventy thousand people to know you’re here.
“You okay?”, Jaafar asks again.
“Yeah.”
When the match finally begins, the atmosphere becomes even more intense. You quickly realize that all of you are much more invested in the game than you expected, leaning forward, screaming, complaining, cheering.
Even Jaafar, who had seemed so calm earlier, is completely caught up in the excitement. “Come on!”, he shouts, jumping slightly in his seat when the USA nearly scores, making you laugh. His excitement is adorable, warming your heart.
And just like that, the first half goes by faster than you expect. By halftime, the scoreboard shows exactly what you predicted: 3:0. You turn toward Jaafar with the biggest smug smile.
“I would like to remind everyone of my prediction”, you announce proudly. You lean back in your seat, completely satisfied. “I’d actually like to go home now and spend the rest of the evening basking in this victory.”
“Don’t be too confident, baby”, Jaafar winks at you. “It’s not over yet.”
The halftime entertainment begins, giving everyone a chance to relax before the second half, which will undoubtedly be just as exciting. You and Randy decide to make yourselves useful and head toward the lounge to grab food and drinks for everyone. Inside, the atmosphere is completely different from the stadium. Still busy, but much calmer. The lounge is bustling with a mix of guests – influencers, models, actors, athletes, and also people you’ve never seen before. Then again, plenty of them are probably thinking the exact same thing about you.
You gather everything you need and carefully balance the drinks and food as you make your way back to your seats alongside Randy, who’s carrying the other half. The second Jaafar sees you approaching, he’s already standing. Before you can protest, he’s taking half the things from your hands, preventing anything from falling.
He smiles one of his sweet smiles at you, before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your cheek once you sit down again. “Thank you for the fries.”
You laugh, knowing they are his favourite. “You’re welcome.”
Down on the field, you can see a few cheerleaders performing, otherwise the stands are relatively empty, which is not at all typical for American halftime shows. However, you realize too late that the camera operators are having some fun, moving through the stands to get people to kiss. You thought kiss cams were strictly an American football thing, but apparently, they’ve adopted the tradition for the World Cup, too. You freeze when you suddenly see your face on the giant screen in front of you, your eyes wide.
Except it’s not Jaafar who’s shown next to you, but Jermajesty. For a moment, nobody reacts. The entire situation is so absurd that your brain can’t even process it. You and Jermajesty simply stare at the screen in utter bewilderment.
Jermajesty immediately starts waving his hands frantically and making an X with his arms, trying to signal to the cameramen that they have made a mistake, but the damage is already done, a flush rising in your cheeks. Randy is doubled over with laughter, completely losing it, and Jaafar isn’t doing much better, struggling to compose himself.
“Unbelievable”, he mumbles through a fit of laughter. But then his eyes soften and he does something you don’t expect: He reaches over, placing one hand gently against your jaw. Before you can ask what he’s doing, he turns your face toward him and kisses you. In front of seventy thousand people.
A wave of cheers rises around you, louder than before. The kiss lasts no more than five seconds, but it’s long enough to make you forget the world around you and the embarrassment you feel. It’s only Jaafar and you in the biggest stadium in the world.
When he pulls away, his forehead almost touches yours and the smug smile on his face makes you laugh. You immediately hide your heated cheeks behind your hands, shaking your head at him as the camera moves on to its next victim.
“You know that’s going to be all over tabloids tomorrow, right?”, you say shyly, pinching the bridge of your nose. Jaafar’s smile only grows while Jermajesty and Randy are having the absolute time of their lives, barely containing their laughter. You try to block them out by scooting forward in your seat, turning your back a little more toward them.
“Probably”, Jaafar shrugs, settling back into his seat while draping one arm casually over the backrest behind you. “Next to all the pictures they took of us on the carpet.”
“Great”, you sigh while sinking into your seat, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips either way. “I can’t believe you actually just kissed me in front of the entire world.”
“Technically”, he says, holding up a finger. “I just wanted to make sure that everyone knows who you’re here with.”
Laughter bubbles out of you as he nods toward his brother, who now has the decency to look slightly offended by the entire situation. “I was an innocent bystander”, Jermajesty defends himself.
Jaafar shoots him a mock glare until you all burst out laughing at the same time, drawing puzzled glances from the people around you. Suddenly, your embarrassment vanishes and your heart returns to its normal rhythm.
Throughout the entire second half, Jaafar’s proximity is palpable, his touch never leaving you: his hand over the back of the seat, on your thigh or interlaced with yours.
The game picks right back up where it left off. The USA continues to dominate and despite Jaafar’s warning not to get too confident, your prediction remains safely intact. That is until Paraguay scores and the scoreboard destroys your prediction, showing a 3:1.
“Told you so”, Jaafar teases, dragging out the words in a sing-song voice, pinching your side which makes you squeal. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of looking defeated, so you lightly push his shoulder. You try to ignore his further teasing close to your ear, but the smile on your face gives you away.
“I’m still in the game!”, Jermajesty proudly announces. The next moment, he clutches his head in frustration as the USA squanders another chance.
Even though you lost your little competition, you can’t tear your eyes away from the game, it’s just too much fun. Then, when the USA scores to make it 4:1 in the final seconds of overtime, you all leap from your seats and cheer. Jermajesty, of course, the loudest of all. Jaafar laughs beside you before wrapping his arms around you and briefly lifting you off your feet in celebration. You barely have time to react before he sets you back down, both of you laughing.
“Oh, he’s never letting this go”, Jaafar says, shaking his head.
“You’re going to be so sick of me!”, Jermajesty cheers loudly.
When the final whistle blows and the USA ultimately wins, the entire stadium erupts once more. Slowly, the stadium begins to empty, but the excitement remains. Since the traffic leaving the stadium is going to be insane, you decide to wait it out in the lounge. Which also happens to give you a temporary escape from Jermajesty’s endless chatter about how he perfectly predicted the game.
Jaafar introduces you to a few guests you recognize and plenty you don’t, but everyone is surprisingly welcoming. Every time Jaafar introduces you, hearing the word girlfriend leave his lips in a public setting makes your heart skip.
What surprises you most is that everyone is so friendly and warm. You had spent the entire day imagining judgment, whispers, people analysing every little thing about you. But instead, they smile at you or compliment your outfit or ask how you enjoyed the game. They make it feel like you belong.
At some point, while you’re talking with a group of guests on your own, you catch Jaafar watching you from across the room, admiring you. When you catch his eyes, he gives you the sweetest smile ever. One that says: ‘See? You’re okay. I’m so proud of you.’ The second he’s at your side again, he leaves a gentle kiss on your temple.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.”
About an hour after the final whistle, you’re finally sitting inside the car on your way home. The adrenaline is slowly fading, leaving behind a feeling of exhaustion. Your head rests against Jaafar’s shoulder as you watch the city lights pass by outside the window.
Occasionally, one of his brothers talks about the match or laughs about the kiss cam moment that will probably haunt Jermajesty forever, but other than that, there’s a comfortable silence.
Your mind is spinning, thinking back to everything you’ve experienced today, to every moment that scared you so much beforehand, but that you handled so well. Somewhere along the way, you stopped feeling like you were being introduced to the world, but more like you were being welcomed into it.
And Jaafar played the biggest role in making it such a pleasant experience for you.
You think about how your hand barely left Jaafar’s the entire day. Your hand moves without thinking, sliding down his biceps until your fingers find his. You intertwine them together on his lap.
“You okay?”, Jaafar asks quietly. You feel him press a kiss into your hair after taking in the familiar scent of you. The question makes you smile. Because of course he asks, even now.
“Yeah”, you smile at him, because with him by your side you don’t think you could ever not be okay.
