#but how on earth did Ferris not notice this right outside his window? LOL
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Rupert Ferris: *calmly dictating a letter*
Meanwhile, right outside: .............
#IDK I just thought this was funny so I wanted to share#it's been a while; so I was a bit sloppy with my stealth haha#but how on earth did Ferris not notice this right outside his window? LOL#I feel like this moment perfectly encapsulates Syndicate's mood tbh#(and lookie who's got a fancy new watermark now?)#Assassin's Creed Syndicate#Jacob Frye#my ac gameplay
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take me home - part 3
(not my gif)
jj maybank x reader
a/n: literally 3k+ of fluffy fakeness lol. i promise next chapter is a little more exciting. also, sorry about how late this one is.
“The Dating Things”, as JJ called them, turned out to be the easiest part of having a fake boyfriend. JJ’s hands felt comfortable, almost familiar on you. Around your waist, your shoulders, on your thigh.
“Here, Kiara’s looking.” After only a week, you were used to cueing him into Rafe and Kiara’s angry glances. For the first couple days, he was a little clueless. You would have to pick up his arms and drape them over you before their eyes turned away. Eventually, he got the hang of it. Once you pointed out the looks coming your way, he was automatically more than a few inches closer.
Soon enough, he became insanely good at noticing the stares and glanced even before you did, and startled you whenever he suddenly tugged you towards him.
You were currently right by his side on a log. The bonfire in front of you was roaring already, illuminating the faces of the people sitting around it. JJ chattered eagerly with a couple of tourons near you two. You glanced up from the fire but immediately shot them back down when you met Kiara’s blazing eyes. The fire just made them that much more intense.
You jammed an elbow into JJ’s side. He winced, turning to you in annoyance before you gave him a look. He immediately recognized the meaning behind your glare and subtly snaked an arm around you. Kiara diverted her eyes then, down to the sandy earth again.
“Success,” you whispered. JJ smiled and turned back to his momentary friends. You elbowed him again to get his attention once more.
“Ow! Would you stop doing that?” He yelped.
“JJ, you remember how I said my mom wanted to have you over for dinner sometime?” You whispered. Now is as good a time as ever.
“Yeah? Why?”
“Well, sometime is tomorrow.” You sheepishly smile.
“What?” JJ’s eyes turn into saucers.
“Yeah, she’s making a whole chicken. She’s very excited.”
“Tomorrow night? Why are you telling me this now, there’s no way we’ll be able to pull this off!” JJ’s voice is getting a little too loud for your liking, but he notices too.
“C’mon, we’ll talk. I’ll walk you back to your place.” JJ grips your hand abruptly, yanking you up and pulling you away from the bonfire.
“JJ, it’s really not that big of a deal. The only one in my family who would be angry about me and you would be my dad, and he’s in California on business. You have nothing to worry about.” “I have everything to worry about here, Y/n!” JJ drops your hand as soon as you’re out of sight from the pogues, walking nearly sideways to face you as he talks. “First of all, you have a little sister. Isn’t she like eight? I’m not exactly a little-girl type of likable.”
“She’s nine.” You correct him.
“Second of all, the whole point of this was to make Rafe think we’re some super cutesy couple, right?” He gesticulates wildy.
You don’t answer, wondering if that was really what was behind you and JJ’s relationship.
“Right?” He tries again.
“Okay, maybe it was. So, what?”
“So, if I mess up in front of your mom, it’ll eventually get back to Rafe, won’t it? He knows you well enough, Y/n. I’ve seen the way you guys used to look at eachother. He’ll see right through our bullshit!”
JJ’s accusation stops you in your tracks. “What does that mean?”
“What?” JJ gets a little bit further before realizing you’re not with him. He turns around to face you.
“What?”
“What does that mean?” You crinkle your face.
“I mean, you know.” JJ raises his eyebrows and gives you a look.
“No, I don’t know! What does that mean?” You’re getting defensive. You don’t mean to, but you know what JJ means. And you don’t want to.
“C’mon, Y/n. It’s obvious you and Rafe have, I don’t know, unfinished business?” JJ finishes his sentence slowly, trying to not set off any fuses.
“Okay, fuck you, JJ.” You scoff.
“C’mon, Y/n! It’s nothing bad, you guys just have a history! All I’m saying is he still knows you really well! Probably better than I do!” You start walking again, a lot faster this time. JJ jogs to catch up to you.
“Maybe, but what Rafe Cameron and I did or didn’t have isn’t any of your business. And it’s definitely not yours to shove in my face when I’m obviously trying to put it behind me and get away from him.” You draw your brows together. You know your anger is bordering completely unjustified, but JJ makes it seem like Rafe Cameron knows you inside and out.
You hate the idea of that. The idea that the you that Rafe could read like the back of his hand is the same you that he aggressively flirts with. You hate the idea Rafe doesn’t see you any different than he used to.
You hate the idea that Rafe became a whole new person, and you stayed the same.
“Yeah, okay, trying to put it behind you?” It’s JJ’s turn to scoff now. His voice is edged with annoyance. He walks backwards to stay in front of you, his whole body tense. You keep your eyes trained straight ahead, refusing to look at him as he glares at you.
“Right, so if you’re trying to put it behind you, then why are you trying to act like you’re with me? You’re obviously not over fucking Cameron if you’re throwing you and I in his face like this.”
All the anger falls off your face and is replaced by hurt. Fucking Cameron? Is that why he is so certain about your history together? He thinks you slept with Rafe?
If JJ thinks that, how many more people do? “Fucking Cameron?” You whisper.
The way you pause again seems to make JJ realize what he’s just said to you. His whole face washes over with regret, his mouth opening, then closing again in surprise.
“Y/n, I didn’t mean it like that.” He shakes his head.
“Right. Right, of course. You have a nice night, JJ.” You begin to speed-walk again, trying to put as much distance between you and JJ as possible.
“Y/n, wait! Y/n! Where are you going?” JJ yells after you, but he doesn’t follow you.
You turn around again, forcing a small smile.
“I’ll meet you at two tomorrow by the ferry, okay? If you’re going to ruin my dinner tomorrow, you should at least do it in a nice suit.”
JJ laughs, exasperated, and shakes his head. He rubs his forehead for a second, looking anywhere but you.
When he finally meets your eyes, he looks tired.
“Yeah. Yeah, okay. I’ll see you at two.” He nods.
You press your lips together and nod, folding your arms and continuing your walk back home.
This time, alone.
The next day at two, JJ is already waiting for you when you get to the port. He has sunglasses on, but judging by the logo on the side, he definitely shoplifted them.
His tank top is thin, but he’s shaking the bottom of the shirt up and down, as if he’s fanning himself. It’s scorching outside, the sidewalk could be frying you.
“Hey,” he pushes himself off the railing he was leaning on. “You ready?”
JJ’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, which are searching your face apprehensively.
He thinks you’re still mad at him.
“The real question is are you ready, Maybank. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’m kind of a makeover queen around here.” You bump his shoulder and he puffs out a breath. He grins again, and this time, it’s a genuine smile.
“Makeover? What do you mean, makeover?” The smile falls as he processes your words.
You grab his arm and pull him up the ramp onto the boat.
“You didn’t say anything about a makeover, you said I just needed new clothes. Y/n, what do you mean makeover?” JJ frantically presses you with questions.
He complains the whole ride over to the mainland, pestering you about what exactly you have in store for him, but you refuse to show him the list you’ve made. You have to move your hand far away from him whenever he reaches for the little piece of paper.
You know JJ could easily overpower your smaller arms and take the list if he really wanted to, but he won’t. He just likes reaching for it and watching you giggle at his grabby hands.
When you’re finally on the street, you uncurl the paper you’ve been tightly clutching onto this whole time. JJ peers over your shoulder, glimpsing at the list. You lean back, holding the paper close to your face.
“Okay, well, lucky for you, first things first is just the fit. Let’s go, I know a place.” You stuff the paper into the pocket of your jeans, setting off to the small shop where your mom bought your dad a new suit for his birthday.
“Okay, are you trying to make me feel poor?” He stares at the shop window in front of him, mannequins displaying expensive button ups and shoes.
“Settle down, I’m paying.” You pat his arm.
He raises an eyebrow as he looks at you. “You are?”
“Yeah,” you nod, “the one with the balls usually pays on a first date, right?” You smirk, swinging the door open and rushing into the air-conditioned store. JJ follows.
“What? What did you just say?” JJ follows you around like a lost puppy. You sift through a pile of stiff, collared, button up shirts stacked on a table, draping a few over your arm.
JJ leans forward over the table of shirts. “Did you call this a date?” He smiles knowingly.
You blush a bit, but keep your face focused down. “You know what I meant.”
JJ hums in agreement, pressing his lips to keep his smile small.
“You see anything you like?” You ask him.
“I don’t know what I like around here, you’re paying.” He follows after you as you scan through black trousers. You pull a pair out and unfold them, holding them up to JJ’s hips.
He jumps back, startled.
“Hold still,” you mumble, putting the too-short pants back and pulling out a bigger size. JJ raises his hands so you can hold the longer pants up to his legs. “Hold these here?”
JJ huffs, but puts his hands on his hips to hold the trousers up. You lean back to check the sizing, then realize how stupid he looks. Before he can move his hands and drop the pants, you whip out your phone to snap a picture.
“Delete it.” JJ drops the pants into a bundle in his arm and points at your phone. “Now. Delete it.” You clutch your phone closer to you. “But what if I need to get them altered or something?”
“Y/n.” JJ’s voice is monotone, but his eyes are dancing with joy. He lunges for your phone and you squeal, jumping back and darting behind a shelf of cologne. JJ maneuvers around it and runs after you, rushing through racks of sweaters and khakis. He catches up to you quickly, his stride surpassing yours.
He flings an arm around your stomach, yanking you back against him before he swiftly grabs your phone. He keeps you pinned to him as he holds the phone up, out of your reach and deletes the photo.
He releases you and you stumble as he tosses his phone for you to catch.
“Asshole,” you grumble, picking up the pants you dropped running from JJ.
You wander the store for a while, gaining odd looks from the other shoppers as well as the cashier ringing up clothes.
Once you’ve been satisfied with the enormous mess of clothes JJ is cradling in his arms, you shove him into a dressing room. You crash in one of the comfy leather chairs outside the rooms.
After a few minutes of JJ crashing around and the sounds of hangers clashing, the room falls silent.
“JJ?” You knock.
“No.” His voice is firm.
“No?”
“I look horrible. Like someone’s grandpa.”
“I don’t trust you to judge fashion. Come out here.” You back away from the door, and JJ begrudgingly shuffles out.
He’s wearing a maroon crew neck over a white collared polo and khakis. He turns to face the mirror, tugging at the collar of his shirt.
You suck a breath in. “No, you do look like my grandpa.”
JJ gives you an unamused look through the mirror.
“In the best way possible!” You follow up.
“You’re not making me wear this.” JJ points a finger at you, retreating back into his dressing room.
“Wait,” You push the door open just as he’s about to close it. “Here.”
You pull out the black trousers and a black suit jacket. You shuffle through the huge pile of crumpled clothes he’s dumped there. You eventually find what you’re looking for - a navy blue button down. You push the clothes onto JJ’s chest.
“Try those.”
JJ rolls his eyes, but accepts the clothes and pushes you back out.
“Y/n, this is even worse.” He groans as he pulls on the jacket.
“Would you stop complaining and let me see you?”
JJ keeps grumbling but comes out of the dressing room.
You had expected the outfit to look good, but you weren’t expecting it to look that good on him.
“It’s, um, it’s alright.” You nod slowly, blinking away you thoughts.
“Alright? That’s all? No rude comments?” JJ smiles. “Who are you and where is my Y/n?”
You try not to react to JJ calling you ‘My Y/n’ as you stand to fix the way he’s bunched up the shirt to tuck it in. You smooth out the wrinkles in his jacket when his hand catches yours.
You meet his eyes. They have the same look in them that they did last night.
“Hang on,” he speaks quickly and quietly. “I’m sorry.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry about last night. It was out of line for me to say that.” He holds eye contact as he talks.
“It’s okay,” You break it first and focus on the jacket again.
“No, it wasn’t. Rafe is just a,” He pauses, “sore spot for me. I’m sorry.”
“JJ, it’s alright. I was getting angry over nothing, really. I overreacted. I guess it’s a sore spot for both of us.”
JJ lets go of your hand then, letting them fall back to your sides. He purses his lips as if he’s thinking, but simply nods and leaves you outside alone once again.
After he’s taken the outfit off and returned himself back to normalcy, you take the clothes from him.
The cashier gives you some more looks as you pay for everything. Your family has been shopping at this store for decades. You’re sure they’re not used to the ladies of your bloodline dragging in boys with muddy sneakers and thin tank tops.
JJ lugs the bag along with him to more shops as you move down the list. Shoes first. You browse a few watches in a jewelry store but ultimately decide you can easily give him one of your dad’s many old ones. You nearly convince him to let you take him to get a haircut but he’s too stubborn and oddly protective of his hair.
After you’ve dragged JJ around for a couple of hours, and his arms are sufficiently dragged down with shopping bags, you usher him back onto the ferry back to the island.
Your legs are tired, and JJ’s arms are tired.
To keep him occupied and from complaining, you point out obvious tourists on the boat : an obscene amount of sunscreen, usually carrying bags and always wearing such fancy outfits. JJ turns it into a game: you sort each person on the boat into either pogues, kooks, or tourons. Or at least which category they would fall into if they lived in the Outer Banks. You take the game another step, and begin to create elaborate life stories for the people.
You’re mid-monologue, trying to explain why the little lady with a large Sunday hat and a string of pearls obviously murdered her three ex husbands and now finances the wealthy lifestyle of her and her poodle’s with the inheritance money when JJ’s head lolls onto your shoulder.
He’s fallen asleep. Your heated speech trails off and you sniff for a second. Do you wake him up? You consider it for a second, but he looks peaceful. There’s a serene look on his face that you’ve never been able to see when he’s awake. Instead, you lean your head against his. You mean to just close your eyes for a moment, but you black out before you know it.
You’re suddenly shaken awake by someone grabbing your shoulder. It’s the elderly couple that sat a few rows in front of you. JJ had claimed that he was certain they were high school sweethearts that went on to rob banks together. The woman shook you awake, and is smiling sweetly down at you.
“Hi, sweetheart, we’re unloading.” There is no way this sweet lady was a bank robber.
JJ wakes up as you stir.
“JJ, get up, we’re here.” You shrug your shoulder a little, and JJ picks his head up.
The old couple begins to leave again. For a second, the old lady leans down and whispers to you. “You two make a very sweet couple. Remind me of us when we were that young.”
She pats your shoulder and follows her husband.
“Bank robbers,” JJ groans as he stretches besides you, obviously not having heard what was just said.
A sweet couple? You know you’ve been playing as a couple, but do you really look the part even when you don’t need to be seen?
Once you’re on the dock and wide awake again, you deposit all of the bags onto JJ.
“Ask Kiara for help getting ready if you need it. That’ll make her insane.” You smirk.
“Genius. You make sure Rafe hears that I’m coming for dinner.” He points out in return.
“Look at us! We make a pretty good fake couple.” You raise your hand for a high-five and JJ slaps it.
“Okay,” You check your phone for the time. “It’s 6:45ish now. I’ll see you at eight at my place, alright? Don’t be late!” You emphasize the last part. “Late? Who, me? You must have the wrong person.” JJ fakes confusion. “Oh, shit, did you say 6:45? I told John B I’d be back by 6:15!” He yelps.
“Bye!” You yell after him as he runs further and further from you.
He would definitely be late tonight.
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