#but it’s just a matter of getting back into the swing of things

[takamiwife]

hawks x pregnant reader?... either his kid or someone else's doesn't matter, as long as he's loving sweet and spoiling tf out the baby ❤️ he would be soooo good w postpartum care. im sure he's helped deliver kids in emergency situations - 🌕

thank you for the request! this is adorable <33 sorry this took a while </3 schools been kicking my ass

but anyways

this man is literally meant to be a father

when you told him you were pregnant, his reaction was: “we’re having a baby?” (shocked) -> “we’re having a baby?” (terrified) -> “we’re having a baby?!” (over the moon ecstatic)

your pregnancy wasn’t planned, so admittedly he was very nervous. he always expected to have kids when he had taken a load off of his hero work, and as soon as you asked if you two should reconsider, he immediately stopped you

“no, no, no. i’m.. i’m ready. as long as you are.”

of course he wifed you up IMMEDIATELY

he can’t have you walking around with his baby without a ring on your finger!

for a short period of time, it was extremely stressful and hectic. you wanted to get your wedding done early on in your pregnancy so you could still fit into your dream dress, and keigo was balancing trying to work a lot to try and make the city the most secure he could for when the baby arrived while also wanting to be home with you, but you two found a way to do it. you postponed your honeymoon until a few months after the baby was born (hey, you’d need it then anyways), so the beginning of your marriage was filled with baby-proofing your now shared apartment and setting up a nursery

everyday when he’d wake you up, he’d kiss you on the forehead, then on your growing bump

this man would come home EVERYDAY with baby stuff, “i saw it in a store while on patrol, wouldn’t this be perfect?”

plus, he’d find the exact vitamins you should take and got them for you, wanting you and the baby to be as healthy as possible

he’d insist you don’t lift a single finger, especially since you went through a lot of stress early on with rapidly planning your wedding, but you convinced him to let you be able to help with the baby’s room

whenever you two are alone together, his hand is like, CONSTANTLY on your stomach

he cried when he felt the baby kick

you guys would celebrate every trimester with a little cake with candles on it

you often got late night cravings, and you always told him not to worry about it, but he insisted because he just so happened to be craving the same thing, so it really wasn’t a problem

rubs your back and holds your hair during morning sickness, and is so patient with you with mood swings

when you really started to show and you couldn’t fit into your old clothes, you broke down crying about how you felt so bad about yourself, and he was genuinely so confused because you had never looked more beautiful to him

nevertheless, he took you out shopping the next day for maternity clothes

he’d love buying onesies and bringing them home to “show off” to the baby, aka holding the onesie up to your stomach

“just remember that daddy picked this one out for you, not mommy, so this one has to be your favorite, okay?”

“you are gonna be the best dressed baby in town”

he’d also have the room filled with toys

“oh, i just saw it in a store window and thought it’d be perfect”

you actually had to stop him bc you were quickly running out of room

he’d have your hospital bag packed and ready by the door a month and a half before you were due

so when your water broke, this man was READY

he was right next to you the whole time, encouraging you and letting you squeeze his hand as hard as you needed

so when the baby was finally born, you handed them to him, and he was so, so scared

it all suddenly felt so real

and the baby looked like a perfect combination of the two of you. but they had your eyes. your perfect, loving eyes

he tried to bite back the tears as he gently brushed his finger along the baby’s face

“hey there.. i’m your daddy.. nice to finally meet you, you’ve been giving your mommy lotsa problems these past few months, kiddo.”

he’d kiss their head, still trying to hold back tears. he promised himself that he would be the best goddamn father he could be. better than his deadbeat dad ever could be. your baby would never doubt that they were loved, they’d never wonder where there next meal would come from, and they sure as hell would never be scared of him

postpartum was a bit hard for you, but keigo was there every step of the way. he was a boat in a dark sea, and you knew that you weren’t going through it alone. he got as much time off of work as he could to try and be there for you and the baby, but he still never felt like it was enough

he’d always make sure you knew you were absolutely adored no matter what your brain was telling you, and made sure to take as many of the responsibilities off of you as possible on particularly hard days

not once did you get up at night to feed them or change their diaper. he would always immediately turn the baby monitor off, creeping quietly down the hallway to their room, and would stay with them as long as it took for them to get back to sleep. he was used to having a fucked up sleep schedule, so this was no problem for him

he takes pictures constantly

everyone at work is constantly getting updates on the baby, and you guys started taking monthly family photos, which he rotates out on his desk

you guys know how (unfortunately) a lot of women have to beg their husbands to take care of the baby so they can go shower?

well that’s not you

as soon he gets home, he scoops the baby up, telling you that it’s your time now

“i’ve been gone all day! it’s my turn with the baby, go on, i already started the bath for you” and the bathroom has lit candles, a bath bomb in the warm tub, and one of those little bathtub desk things for a drink and an ipad (yall pls know what i’m talking about 😭)

it’s a constant competition for the baby saying “mama” or “dada” first

one day, the baby just would not. stop. crying. no matter what you guys did, it seems that they would never cease. overstimulated and running out of ideas, keigo strapped a baby wrap to his chest and stuck them in it

“keigo, what are you doing?”

“we’re goin’ for a ride. it always helps me calm down”

“wh- you can’t take the baby flying!”

“they’re my kid, they’ll be fine!”

“oh my god- okay, don’t go too fast, or i swear to god-“

“relax, baby, i got this” he flashed his charming smile at you, and you only sighed

“be back in one piece, okay?”

despite being known as the man who’s too fast for his own good, keigo enjoyed a calm, slow flight. as soon as he hit the air, the baby seemed to immediately stop crying; and as the baby looked up at him with those big, round eyes, keigo realized just how lucky he was to be able to fall in love with those eyes twice in his life

“there ya go kiddo, i knew you just needed some air. just like your dad, hm?”

and he had never felt more proud

[marvelfanfics1]

Little Maybank

requested by anon

Pairing: brother!jj maybank x sister!reader

Warnings: suggestive comments/actions, brief mention of fighting, cursing, reader is a few years younger than JJ, protective!jj

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You and JJ walk side by side towards the entrance of the Pelican Yacht Club, the rest of the pogues waiting by the Twinkie for you both to get some valuable information that one of the waiters there has for a current little mission they're all on right now.

JJ has is hands stuffed into his pockets while you swing your arms back and forth, looking at all the luxurious yachts lined up by the docks.

"You think we'll have a yacht one day, Jay?" You ask sweetly.

"Sure, a big ass one for all of us." He answers with a smile, ruffling your hair a little to which you whine, batting his hand away and trying to fix it again while he chuckles.

JJ can't believe that even with how your guys life situation is he still manages to keep you far away from the harsh reality, always making sure you're not anywhere near Luke whenever he has one of his outbursts or beats him, telling you the bruises are from a fight with a kook.

All the pogues treat you like you're their little sister and protect you like one, never letting you go on their more dangerous missions and shielding you from any harm.

JJ will always see you as his baby sister, you're his responsibility and the only thing he takes seriously in his life, well of course he teases you like every normal brother does but only him, the pogues sometimes too but they know to not go too far.

Your bubbly and overall nice personality is both a blessing and a curse, your want to spread positivity everywhere you go is as admirable as it's frustrating because many people, especially kooks, don't deserve to witness your sweet nature.

Protecting you is JJ's top priority, he wants you to grow up better than he did and offer you a carefree life full of love and fun. He'll be damned if something ever happens to you.

After you both sneaked inside the club, looking for the guy that has information.

JJ finally locks eyes with him and nods his head towards the restrooms, the guy quickly getting the hint and you both walk over to them when JJ turns to face you.

"Stay right here. I'll be back in a minute." He instructs and you nod with a smile, watching him go inside the men's restroom, swaying a bit back and forth on your feet.

While you look around you hope that no one notices that you shouldn't be here, too sensitive for any confrontation no matter the reason.

A group of boys who are standing a few feet away nursing their drinks spot you. "Dude, isn't that little Maybank?

"Shit yeah. Means her dumbass of a brother can't be far. Not to mention they sure as hell aren't supposed to be here." One of them observes, a smirk forming on his face.

Your head snaps back to the restrooms as you see JJ come out again and make his way back to you. "A'ight, mission accomplished. Let's head back to the others."

You nod and you both went on when suddenly someone blocks your path.

"Whoa, not so fast, pogues. Here to steal your next meal huh?" A brunette with a smug expression teases you both.

JJ clenches his jaw, moving you behind him protectively, his hands balling at his sides. "Man, we don't want any trouble."

"Who are you trying to fool here, Maybank? Your poor asses shouldn't even be here."

JJ glares at him but unclenches his fists again when he feels your hands grab onto his bicep, trying to keep himself in check, not wanting you to see him lash out.

He took a deep breath, about to just walk past that douchebag when he hears you yelp suddenly as the guy's friend slapped your ass.

"That little beauty can stay tho." The black haired boy chuckles.

Before you could comprehend what just happened JJ swiftly turns and swings his fist, his knuckles connecting with the guy's jaw who had dared to touch you.

You gasp at that, stumbling back and against the brunette, quickly turning around to face him and without thinking twice you push him over the railing and watch him fall into the water.

Hearing several gasps from the club members and employees around you has you freezing, grappling the fact what you just did when JJ grabs your hand.

"C'mon! We gotta go!" He stresses, pulling you out of your shocked state and you instantly start running, hearing the way JJ laughs. "Oh my god that was crazy!"

Pope slides open the Twinkie's door from inside when he sees you both running and you jump in, your back hitting the wall.

"Bro drive!" JJ shouts at John B and he quickly starts the van as you and your brother keep panting.

"What the hell happened?" Kie asks, looking you both over concerned.

"You guys will never believe it..." JJ breathes heavily, glancing at you with a grin and you blush, a small smile forming on your face. "Our little angel here just pushed a kook into the water."

You're surprised when your friends start to cheer and ask questions excitedly, wanting to know what happened.

You giggle as Kie and Cleo wrap their arms around your neck from each side, their hurried questions overlapping each other.

Pope ruffles your hair just like JJ always does, and you can hear John B laughing behind the wheel, smacking it a few times while Sarah claps her hands.

Your smile stays rooted on your face, feeling happy and safe in your family's presence.

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu

For JJ:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @flora-eva

[rafestyles]

should've known it was a matter of time || rafe cameron

requested? No, I just need to write something!!!!!!

prompt: After getting caught by Singh’s men, you find yourself face-to-face with none other than Rafe Cameron.

For the sake of the story & so I don’t have to write it out - you are JJ’s sister. You and Rafe had been dating in secret before the incident on the tarmac occurred. Even though you had tried so hard to hide your relationship from JJ and the other pogues, it was all worthless when Rafe made you choose between him or helping out John B & Sarah (who is also your best friend). You obviously chose the latter and he declared your relationship over. You have mostly avoided him until this point. Or: You are Kie in episodes 1 & 2 of season 3, except you’re Rafe’s ex. 

warnings/content: toxic!rafe, pogue!reader, maybank!reader, fem!reader, violence (g*ns & k*ives)

word count: 3.9k

The sound of your shallow, anxious breathing was the only noise filling your ears as you ascended the staircase. With the guard’s heavy footfalls echoing close behind, you had little time to scan the room for any possible escape routes. When you hesitate for a second too long, his voice cuts through the silence, annoyed: “Up.” 

Reaching the top step, he jerks your body towards the first closed door, swinging it open, “Inside.” Although futile, you keep your feet planted in their position in the hallway. With an irritated exhale, he shoves you into the room. You whirl towards him, fury lighting your eyes. “Why am I here? Who are you working for?” you demand, a hint of anger & fear weaving through your tone. 

“Dinner at eight. I’d clean up.” he mutters harshly as his eyes trail over your figure with barely concealed disdain. Begging, you glance at him desperately, “Just tell me what they want.” He doesn’t spare you another glance before slamming the door and clicking the lock into place.

Though hopeless, you pull at the handle a few times praying it may give. When it doesn’t, you admit defeat and turn your body to fully face the room. Taking a step towards the windows you pull the curtains open seeking an escape route but instead, you're met with a few guards standing right outside. Huffing out a frustrated breath, you keep scanning your eyes over the room. 

Your gaze catches on a wardrobe and you make your way over. A row of identical red dresses hang on the rack inside, a note attached to the first one. Your fingers tremble as you reach for it, reading over the messy scrawl: “Pick your size.” 

Your face contorts in confusion before it dawns on you  - this is what they expect you to wear at the dinner they have planned for the night. Realizing that leaving this room is your only hope in formulating a plan of escape, you admit defeat and reluctantly pull out your size. 

–

A few hours later finds you dressed and laying back against the bed. Your fingers twist anxiously as you wait for the dinner to begin, thoughts of your brother & friends racing through your mind. A brief knock taps against the door, alerting you for only a moment before the door swings open to a woman standing in the hallway. “He’s ready.” She speaks softly, gesturing you to follow her with a slight tilt to her head. 

Exhaling a nervous breath, you hesitantly follow behind. When you reach the main level, she points towards a room where your ears pick up the unmistakable sound of a drink being poured. You step towards the open doors, your gaze instinctively landing on a man who’s standing with his back towards you. He lifts the glass to his lips, taking small sips of the dark liquid.

“Uh... excuse me?” you call out, your voice coming out shakier than you’d intended.

The man stiffens before slowly turning to face you. Time seems to slow as your eyes lock and your heart skips a beat. This is the last thing you were prepared for - standing face-to-face with your ex, Rafe Cameron. “No, no. There’s no way you and your dad are behind this shit.” You hiss, anger dripping from every word. 

He seems to snap out of his daze, his eyes flaring in disbelief, “What are you talking about?” he snaps,  “Are you and your pogue friends trying to weasel in on my deal right now? Is that what’s going on?” 

“What are you talking about?” you retort, angrily. Your body seems to still be in shock as you try to wrap your mind around the sight of him standing before you.

“I wondered if your little reunion would cause sparks, you know.” a voice chuckles from another corner of the room. You and Rafe exchange one last, charged look at one another before fully turning to face the man. Panic surges through you as you hear Rafe mutter, “Who are you?” 

A smirk spreads across the man's face as he points at his chest, “Me?” he asks, his tone mocking. Your eyes glance towards Rafe, nerves tightening, watching as he almost instinctively shuffles his body closer towards yours. “My name is Carlos Singh.” he says smoothly, shaking his finger at Rafe.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Cameron.” His gaze shifts to you, condescension in his eyes,  “And Ms. y/l/n, I do apologize for the rough tactics in bringing you here.” 

Rafe’s body tightens, his eyes sweeping over you. The tension between the three of you hangs thick as Singh lets the silence linger before speaking again, the tone of his voice taking on a false politeness.

“But please, come. Sit down.” he gestures to the table behind him. When neither you or Rafe make a move, he adds with exaggerated patience, “Come now, I don’t bite.” 

Rafe sweeps his gaze over you once more, his eyes intense as they scan every inch of your body. Concern tightens his features and you realize with a start that he’s checking for any sign of injury. The realization sends something soft and unexpected through your body as his eyes reach yours again.

You offer a small, reassuring nod - enough for him to see that you’re okay. He seems to accept your unspoken message and you watch as the tension in his shoulders eases slightly, his expression softening at your response. With a subtle gesture, he finally moves towards the table, still glancing back to watch you closely. You notice the apprehension floating through his posture, but there’s an undertone of something else - weariness. You follow after him, realizing that although you hate to admit it, you and Rafe need to be on each other’s side right now.

“Rough tactics. What about me?” Rafe grumbles, his voice laced with frustration as he paces around the back of the room. “Yes, Mr. Cameron. False pretenses,” Singh says, pouring a drink into the glasses in front of him, “But the ends justify the means I’m afraid.” 

He takes a few sips of one of the glasses, “Sit down.” You hear Rafe’s sigh of frustration before you both pull chairs out and finally take your seats. Singh watches you both, unphased by Rafe’s frustration as he sets a drink in front of you and another one in front of Rafe. “We have a lot to talk about.”

“Why are we here?” Your voice steady despite the tension suffocating the room. 

Singh leans back, his expression unreadable. “Well Ms. y/l/n, Mr. Cameron. We share certain interests… objectives.” he says in a tone that’s almost too casual for the situation at hand.

Rafe’s body leans forward, his forearms resting on his thighs, “Is this not about the cross?” 

Your gaze snaps towards Rafe as Singh’s finger points sharply in his direction, “It is. Tangentially, it is about the cross.” he pauses as his gaze shifts towards a painting on one of the far walls, his expression distant. “But it’s also about something much, much bigger than the cross by orders of magnitude,” 

He exhales slowly, “The completion of a grand quest.” With his back towards you, Rafe’s gaze finds yours, eyes locking for a brief moment. A sense of reassurance washes over you as you realize his expression matches your puzzled one. 

“You see,” Singh’s voice cuts through the silence, bringing your attention back to him. “The story goes that 450 years ago, a Spanish soldier came out of the Orinoco Basin with a few gold beads. And when they asked the Spanish soldier where the beads came from, the Spanish soldier replied he got them from a peaceful Indigenous tribe who lived in a city of gold.” he pauses, letting the weight of the words sink in, “El Dorado.” 

He eyes the both of you before continuing on, “And for the next 450 years, people tried to find that gold, you know.” He walks over to a table, picking a small dagger up as the blade catches the light.  “They tried… conquistadors, knights, captains of ships, tribes, entire nations.” 

He turns to face you and Rafe, his eyes growing intense. “All fighting each other in a race for the end of the rainbow.” He begins pacing in front of you, the dagger now resting loosely in his hands. “Thousands of lives laid on the pyre of gold fever.” 

Your glance at Rafe, noticing the subtle tension in his body as he grows irritated at Singh’s story. “And it falls to me, you know.” Singh stops pacing, his voice taking on a deeper tone. He leans forward, his gaze bouncing between the two of you with an intensity that borders on obsession, “It falls to me to complete the task.” 

He pauses a moment before continuing, “To bring full circle a quest that has gone on for almost 500 years. Perhaps… perhaps the greatest quest in the history of the western hemisphere.” 

Unease grows in your stomach as you realize the finality in his tone, the unmistakable certainty that he will stop at nothing to claim what he believes is his. You begin to panic and snap your gaze to study Rafe again. You find his eyes already on yours as his expression is tinged with annoyance, lips pursed in a tight line. He begins nodding slowly, as if he’s trying to process Singh’s words, but you know him - the tension in his shoulders speak volumes: he’s pissed. Before he can utter a word, Singh’s voice speaks up again.

“And you two,” he points the dagger between the two of you, chuckling softly, “you two are going to play a part in that.” 

Dread pools in your stomach as the walls of the room feel as if they’re closing in on you, an impending sense of danger sparking through the room. You glance at Rafe again, hoping to find even an ounce of reassurance painted on his features, but all you see is frustration. He pulls his lips into his mouth, a move you’re familiar with, as he tries to maintain his temper.

“What about you, Ms. y/l/n?” Singh speaks, your eyes catching his again. “Are you interested in history?” He pulls out a chair next to you, settling into it.

You hesitate before speaking, your voice calm but guarded,  “More of a future person.” 

Before he can respond, Rafe’s groan passes his lips. “Yeah I didn’t listen to a word you said, okay? How much are you gonna keep philosophizing?” 

Your skin prickles with unease at the sharp edge of Singh’s tone as he chuckles from beside you, “You are direct, aren’t you Mr. Cameron?” 

The two men lock eyes, in a silent stand-off. The tension rises another notch before you decide to speak again, “What do you need from me?” you whisper. 

Singh’s gaze refuses to waver from Rafe’s, his words slow and deliberate. “I’ve come to believe that you and your friends are in possession of something that can help me get what I want.” 

The accusation settles with a thud and you observe the surprise flash through Rafe’s gaze, even though he fights to keep his expression neutral. 

You swallow around the lump in your throat, “Which is?” 

Singh’s gaze finally breaks Rafe’s, his attention shifting towards you. “An old manuscript. A diary, actually.” From the corner of your eyes, you feel Rafe’s gaze slide over your features, his eyes lingering with curiosity. There’s a small shift in his expression - like he’s trying to read you, but you refuse to break your stare from Singh’s. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Rafe says, his voice sharp,  causing both you and Singh to look at him. You exhale an anxious breath, trying to steady yourself.  “This is ridiculous. I don’t know anything about a diary.” You lie, forcing the words to sound natural as they leave your mouth. 

Singh's gaze sharpens, his eyes narrowing as if he can read right through your facade. “But how else could you have learned that the cross was on the Royal Merchant?” he presses. 

Your pulse quickens as you shake your head, trying to divert the conversation, “Look, I want to help you, but I can’t.” 

“I was hoping you wouldn’t say that.” Singh’s tone rings with thinly veiled frustration.

You tense at his response, your fists clenching anxiously in your lap. Without warning, you feel a soft pressure against your leg. You freeze, your eyes darting downwards, catching Rafe’s leg pressed against your own. The unexpected contact brings a jolt of warmth through your body. When you glance back up at him, the tautness shows in his shoulders and his gaze is heavy on Singh. The tension in the air is palpable, but just for a moment, it feels as if you’re not facing this alone. 

The feeling quickly retreats as Singh’s voice echoes through the room, his tone laced with menace. “Because unfortunately, I don’t believe you.”  You swallow around the thickness of your throat, barely noticing the subtle motion of Rafe’s shoe tracing up and down your leg. The quiet gesture stirs something deep inside of you, a mix of comfort and tension, but you push it to the side. 

“You and your friend here couldn’t have found the cross without it.” Singh continues, assessing you both. 

“He’s not my friend.” You respond sharply, the words slipping out before you can stop them. A flicker of sorrow races through you as you feel the weight of Rafe’s leg leave your own, irritation flashing through his eyes. 

You glance over at him, the apology right on your lips, ready to break free before Singh speaks up again, “We can’t all be friends, you know.” 

The words hit hard and before you can process them, Rafe suddenly pushes back from his seat, “Look, this is ridiculous. Okay? I’m out.” he mutters, stepping back as if to walk out.  “I don’t know anything about a diary, okay? So-” 

But before he can finish, he’s shocked into silence as a gasp escapes your lips. You watch as a guard steps from the shadows, the barrel of his gun resting coldly against Rafe’s chest. 

“Do I look like a fool to you, Mr. Cameron?” Singh’s voice raises sharply although you can’t tear your gaze away from the sight of Rafe standing motionless, his chest still pressed against the barrel. 

Singh stands, his eyes a constant weight on Rafe.  “Do I look like a fool to you?” he repeats, enunciating each word.

For a moment, everything feels suspended in time. Your body relaxes slightly as Rafe finally steps away from the gun, shrugging his shoulders defiantly.

“You have the cross.” Singh sighs, his tone accusing. “She and her friends had the cross at one point. So one of you has the diary.”

Rafe’s eyes find yours, concern lingering in his expression as he catches the sight of your tears threatening to spill over. It’s gone in a split second as he braces himself for Singh’s next words, “And if you really don’t know,” he continues, “then I suggest you convince your friend to tell me.” 

Through your tears, your gaze remains locked on Rafe’s profile as you try to read the expression in his eyes. 

“Once I have the diary, you’ll be free to leave. I must warn you though,” Singh pauses meaningfully, “I’m not a man of infinite patience.” 

You stand, trembling slightly as he gestures with his hands to follow him back up the stairs and into the room you were in earlier. His words are a chilling promise: “You have one day.”

As you climb the stairs, you try to blink back the tears as the tension is taut through Rafe’s shoulders. When you reach the room, Singh’s smirk rings through his tone, “Go to the window for a little demonstration.” He pats Rafe on the shoulder aggressively before adding, “I think you’ll enjoy it, you know.”

He walks back down the hallway, the guards slamming the door shut on you both. 

“Hey,” Rafe growls, the anger finally boiling over.  “Hey!” he grunts as he pulls desperately at the handle, “You’re just done talking? Hey!” 

The sound of the lock clicking causes you to realize how trapped you are. “It’s locked.” you mumble, the weight of the situation falling heavily onto your shoulders. Rafe whips his head to look at you, frustration flashing in his eyes.

You stalk towards the window, Rafe following closely behind. Pulling open the curtains, you hear the sound of a man's voice filter through the window. “Hey. I didn’t do nothing man.”

“Who is that guy?” Rafe mutters, more to himself than to you. His voice is closer to you than you expected, his warmth pressing into you as you stand side by side.

 “I know him,” you answer, your voice tinged with confusion. “It’s Jimmy Portis.” 

Rafe snaps towards you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “He was trying to help me.” you whisper. 

Your body tenses as you spot Singh moving outside, his eyes locked on yours. The smirk on his face is evident as he pulls a gun from his waistband. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Rafe mutters, his body instinctively moving closer to yours as you both flinch.

The sound of a gunshot splinters harshly through the air. You and Rafe gasp in unison as the sound echoes throughout the room, your eyes widening in terror. “No…” the word escapes from your lips as the tears finally push over the edge. 

Rafe’s gaze is unwavering on your profile as he watches with intensity and a hint of desperation. “This diary,” Rafe whispers, his voice raw,  “No bullshit. Please don’t bullshit me, okay?” he pleads, “Do you have it?”

Your silence that follows is thick with tension as the weight of his question settles through the room, your heart hammers in your chest. The internal battle tears at you - the need to protect your brother, and the harsh realization that Rafe may be the only one that can help you now. 

“Baby?” Rafe’s voice cracks as the old nickname surges through your heart. The way he says it - pleading and full of concern, makes your decision that much harder. 

“No.” The lie is out before you can second-guess yourself. You say it with fake certainty, praying he believes you, even as betrayal sinks through your body.

One look at his face tells you he doesn’t. The guarded expression flashes back over his features, irritation in his eyes as he pulls away from you and the window, attempting to process the lie.

“You forget I used to know you, y/n.”

[enemiestolovershoe]

hii!! Do you think you write a kook!reader(but basically a pogue) x jj , where reader and jj are secretly dating but reader wants to meet the rest of the pogues, jj’s not ready so they have a slight argument about that during midsummers and that scene when jj runs away and calls the pogues to go to the bonfire place (don’t remeber what’s its called), he ‘forgets’ to call the reader aswell, making her end up feeling sad and after that finally they talk about their relationship and reader meets the pogues… sorry if this is random.. i just thought about it

Crossed Tides

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summary: JJ and Kook!Reader argue when she wants to meet his friends.

Words: 1,5k

Warnings: not proofread, rushed

A/N: I know this is rushed but I just can‘t bring myself to write properly about JJ. I‘m fucking grieving about a fictional character. So if this sucks I‘m so fucking sorry :(

The Midsummers gala was in full swing. Guests glided across the lawn in a sea of pristine whites and blues, sipping drinks and laughing beneath strings of fairy lights. But you stood on the edge of it all, nervously twisting the hem of your dress between your fingers, watching the crowd for one familiar face: JJ.

He’d been distant tonight, showing up late and barely saying two words to you. You’d been secretly dating for months, always meeting at the docks or hidden stretches of beach, anywhere away from the sharp gaze of both the Kooks and the Pogues. But tonight, that distance felt different, like there was something he wasn’t telling you.

You spotted him at the bar, leaning back with his arms crossed, his gaze scanning the crowd as he downed a drink. Taking a deep breath, you walked over, determined to get some answers.

“JJ,” you said, softly but firmly as you placed a hand on his arm. He flinched slightly, then turned to look at you, his usual mischievous smile nowhere to be found.

“Oh, hey.” His voice was clipped, and he looked over your shoulder, as if already searching for a way out.

“Can we talk?” you asked, your voice quiet but unwavering. “Really talk?”

He sighed, setting his glass down and rubbing the back of his neck. “About what?”

“About us,” you replied. “I want to meet your friends, JJ. I want to be part of that part of your life. We’ve been sneaking around for months now, and I feel like… I don’t know, like I’m just some secret you’re embarrassed about.”

JJ’s face fell, but his jaw tightened defensively. “It’s not about being embarrassed.”

“Then what’s it about?” You kept your gaze steady, even though your heart was pounding. “I’m tired of pretending I’m okay with just these hidden moments. I want to meet the people who matter to you. I want to know them, and I want them to know me.”

JJ’s eyes darkened, his frustration evident as he ran a hand through his hair. “It’s just… complicated, alright?”

“How is it complicated, JJ?” you asked, your voice softening. “I know you. I know that you’re not just some Pogue or some label. I don’t care about any of that Kook-Pogue division. I’m here because I care about you.”

He looked down, his fingers fiddling with his bracelet. “They wouldn’t understand.”

“Why not? Because I’m a Kook?” you pressed, hurt creeping into your tone. “JJ, you know that’s just a label to me. I’m not… I’m not one of them. I’m not my family.”

JJ’s gaze softened as he looked at you, his defenses cracking for just a moment. But then, just as quickly, he pulled back again, a hard edge in his voice. “It’s not about you. It’s about them. They’re my family. They’re the only real family I’ve got, and I don’t want anything messing that up.”

Your chest tightened at his words, a mixture of sadness and frustration bubbling up. “So I’d just… mess things up? That’s what you’re saying?”

He opened his mouth to respond but closed it again, clearly struggling to put his feelings into words. Before he could say anything else, someone brushed past you, nearly spilling a drink on your dress, breaking the tension.

JJ took a step back, running a hand through his hair again. “I… I just need some air, alright?”

Before you could respond, he turned and walked off, disappearing into the crowd.

Hours passed, and the night grew quieter. The gala began to wind down, and you found yourself waiting on the steps, watching each group of guests leave, hoping JJ might come back. You checked your phone repeatedly, but there was no word from him.

You tried not to let it hurt. He was probably with his friends now, probably didn’t even think to call you. But deep down, you knew you couldn’t just keep ignoring this. Something had to change.

Meanwhile, JJ had wandered off, his feet taking him almost automatically to the Boneyard. The familiar glow of the bonfire greeted him, and he felt his shoulders relax a little as he spotted John B., Pope, and Kiara laughing together. Here, with them, he didn’t have to think about labels or boundaries; he was just himself, just JJ.

“Yo, JJ!” John B. called, waving him over. “What are you doing here, man? I thought you were busy with all those rich people tonight.”

JJ forced a grin as he joined them. “Yeah, needed a break from all that. Figured you guys were a little more my style.

Pope raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? That why you’ve been disappearing on us every other night?”

JJ chuckled, trying to play it off. “You know me, man, always got something going on.”

Kiara gave him a knowing look. “Or someone?”

JJ’s grin faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered, shrugging it off. “Maybe, maybe not.”

But as the night wore on and the fire began to die down, his mind kept drifting back to you. To the hurt in your eyes when he’d brushed you off, the way you’d tried so hard to be understanding. Guilt twisted in his chest, and he knew he couldn’t keep hiding this forever.

He pulled out his phone, thumb hovering over your name in his contacts, but something held him back. What if they didn’t get it? What if his worlds just couldn’t mix?

He ended up putting his phone away without calling you.

The next morning, you decided you couldn’t wait any longer. You went down to the docks, hoping you’d catch him there. The salty air was cool against your skin as you waited, watching the horizon until you finally saw him approach.

JJ looked surprised to see you, hesitating before stepping closer, his hands shoved into his pockets.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and uncertain.

“Hey,” you replied, studying his face. You could see the shadows under his eyes, the way he looked like he hadn’t slept much. “We need to talk.”

He nodded, glancing down. “I know.”

You took a deep breath. “JJ, I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep being just this… secret. I want more than stolen moments. I want to be part of your life, all of it.”

He swallowed, looking away. “I get it. And… you’re right. You deserve more than that.”

“Then why won’t you let me in?” you asked, voice soft but steady. “What are you so afraid of?”

JJ hesitated, then looked up, his eyes finally meeting yours. “I’m afraid of losing them. They’re everything to me. I don’t want to do anything to mess that up. And… I don’t want to lose you, either.”

You softened, reaching out to take his hand. “JJ, you won’t lose them. And you won’t lose me. You don’t have to choose.”

He held your gaze, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he seemed to weigh his options. After a long moment, he sighed, a small, resigned smile tugging at his lips.

“Alright,” he said finally. “Let’s go meet the Pogues.”

Later that day, you and JJ headed down to the Cut, where John B., Pope, and Kiara were lounging on the HMS Pogue. As JJ led you over, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of nerves, but his hand was warm in yours, steadying you.

John B. noticed you first, his eyebrows shooting up as he looked between you and JJ. “Whoa, JJ, you brought a guest?”

JJ cleared his throat, squeezing your hand. “Uh… everyone, this is (Y/N).”

Kiara raised an eyebrow, smirking. “So, this is the girl you’ve been sneaking off with.”

You blushed, but her smile was genuine, and she waved you over. “Come on, there’s plenty of room.”

Pope grinned, offering you a seat beside him, and John B. patted the edge of the boat. “Welcome to the crew,” he said, shooting you a wink.

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling the weight on your heart finally lift as you took your place among the Pogues, hand in hand with JJ. And for the first time, you felt like you truly belonged by his side.

[lost-in-fandoms]

For kitten knight AU, might be hitting to close to home, sorry :(

What about a time when Daniel gets too injured/gets overlooked to join a mission and is miserable and needing his kitten Max's comfort upon his return?

I am so so sorry this has taken me so long and there is actually zero kitten time in this, but I hope you'll forgive me. There's another ask in my inbox that might get the kitten time related to this (when I'll get to it. again, i'm sorry, it's been a lot lately)

The knife had come out from nowhere.

One moment Daniel was walking the rounds in the lower city with Alex, chatting about nothing, probably paying not enough attention to his surroundings, and the next three thugs had jumped out of the shadows brandishing clubs.

It should have been an easy fight, clubs against swords, but they were in a narrow street, which made maneuvering around each other harder, and both Daniel and Alex had been surprised, reacting just a little too late. Daniel had stopped the first swing of a club with the hilt of his sword, not an ideal move, before being able to go on the attack. He had heard Alex swear behind him, but he'd been unable to check.

And then, just as he had kicked the club out of the hand of his thug and forced him to the ground with the threat of his blade, he had felt a sharp pain on his side, a burst of white hot flames lapping at his nerves, and he had fallen to his knees with a cry.

He isn't sure what had happened after that, his brain confused by adrenaline and pain, but he remembers someone running away, Alex swearing more, the sharp whistle of a call for help, the blurry travel back to the castle.

He had been lucky, the doctor who had stitched him up had said. Lucky, that the guy hadn't taken the blade out after stabbing him, keeping the blood loss to a minimum. Lucky, that it hadn't really hit anything important. Lucky, that the wound hadn't got infected.

And yet, Daniel doesn't feel very lucky, laying in bed, side throbbing, watching Max walk out the door. He feels stupid, for letting himself get stabbed, and already lonely.

The thing is, he was supposed to be heading away with Max too. He had been picked for the mission some time ago, for his ability to keep Max calm and to charm people, but now he has to look while George goes with Max and the rest of the group.

Daniel doesn't have anything again George, he likes George, really, but right now he sort of wishes that George was laying in a bed with a stab wound instead.

He doesn't particularly care about the mission. A noble somewhere near the southern border is rumored to be planning a coup, and Max is heading there to talk and, more importantly, to scare the man to death.

Daniel doesn't give a shit about the mission. He understands the importance of it, a coup would be bad for the kingdom in general and for him in particular, would mean battles and death, but he can admit to himself and the mission could be going to count all the cows in the kingdom and he'd care exactly the same amount.

But he wanted to go. With Max.

He's been thinking about it lately, and he knows he won't be able to be a King's guard forever. There are people in the guard who are happy to grow old like this, who consider the barracks their home, the guards their family, the protection of the King their life purpose. But not Daniel.

He's tired.

He has grown disillusioned in the King's justice, knows that while he's not a bad King, he's not a good one either, and he has grown tired of the night shifts, of the stiff beds, of the endless rounds.

He keeps dreaming about a different life. A small house with a garden, maybe a goat. A soft bed. Waking up with the sunrise, going to bed with the sunset, only seeing midnight if he wants to see it. Maybe living off of something he can do that isn't just swinging a blade.

The problem is. The problem is that none of that, not the house, the bed, the goat, would matter without Max. He wants his life with Max.

And he's not sure that, if presented with the choice between Daniel and the guards, Max would choose him.

So this mission would have been maybe one of his last chances to do something with Max. To be out in the world with him, to spend time together, to maybe find the courage to ask him what he would do if Daniel was to quit, if he would stay, if he would follow.

But he got himself stabbed, and now he's laying in a bed, alone and miserable, missing Max more than the situation would probably call for.

The days are slow.

For the first few he's not allowed to get up, and even if his friends come to see him, and the doctor visits him, he spends long hours staring at the wall, ignoring the books someone had brought him, the letters he could be writing, and thinking about Max and his dream goat instead.

His chest aches with how much he misses him, how much he wants.

Max doesn't write.

Daniel wasn't expecting him to, even if he's sure he sent pigeons for the King, wasn't expecting him to ask about Daniel in the official documents, but he's disappointed anyway, heart aching just a little bit more.

As soon as he's allowed to get up, he goes outside.

He knows he's not technically allowed to exert himself, but he needs to move, he needs to breathe, he needs to empty his brain of all these thoughts and just exist for a while. He climbs to the top of the inner walls, regrets it about five times on the way up and seven on the way down. He goes for a walk out towards the hill, having to sit down an embarrassing amount of times on the way there. He goes to the armory, annoys GP into giving him something to do, then to the stables, until even the horses are unsettled by his nervous energy.

Sleeping at night is hard. He misses Max's solid weight on his side, misses his soft warmth on top of his chest even more. He lays awake for hours, unable to turn around as he'd like because his side still fucking hurts, straining his ears to listen for a purr that doesn't exist.

He waits and waits and waits.

The day Max is supposed to come back, he doesn't.

He sends a pigeon ahead, telling the King they are safe, but a flood had forced them to not use the ford the were planning to and directing them to a bridge further away, delaying their travel of a day. GP is the one who tells Daniel, coming back to the armory where Daniel had been cleaning already shining blades, and Daniel gets out and up to the east tower, cursing every single step all the way up.

He sits there until the sun sets and he grows too cold, gritting his teeth as he climbs the stairs back down and avoiding the mess hall, not feeling like talking to anyone.

That night he curls up tight around a small warm body that isn't there, ignoring the pull of the stitches.

The day after he wakes up to the feeling of the blankets being moved.

He snaps his eyes open, cursing himself for letting someone get this close without noticing, already fumbling for the knife he keeps tied to one of the bed legs, when a hand closes around his and he finally registers the voice speaking to him.

"Daniel, Daniel, it's me, it's fine, it's me."

And then finally, finally, he realises it's Max.

For a moment, he feels like his brain freezes.

Max is there, he can see he's there, but it makes no sense. Max is supposed to still be half a day away, and even if he has arrived already, he's supposed to be debriefing with the King. He's not supposed to be here, wearing barely any clothes, slipping into Daniel's bed.

"Max? What?" is all he manages to say, his voice rough.

Max pushes him slightly, still trying to get into bed, but Daniel doesn't move, too surprised and confused to comply.

"I decided to travel all night. The guys weren't happy, but we got here early" Max explains, fidgeting with the corner of the blanket.

"The King?" Daniel asks, still hesitating

"I wrote the report while traveling and left it for him. I'll talk to him later." Max shrugs, then looks up at Daniel, his cheeks red. "I missed you."

And then finally Daniel's brain catches up with the fact that Max is really here, and he realises there are so many better things he could be doing instead of asking Max questions.

Max lets out a surprised squeak when Daniel lunges at him, wrapping his arms around and squeezing him into a hug, burying his face into the familiar slope of his shoulder and breathing him in.

"I missed you too. I missed you so much, Maxy, I missed you," Daniel babbles, feeling Max's arm wrap around his back much more carefully, his hands moving up and down in a soothing motion.

"It was only ten days," Max says, even as he holds Daniel just as tightly.

It feels much more than ten days when they finally kiss. It feels like a month, like way too long. It feels like filling the hole in Daniel's chest, like fixing his lungs, like slowing his brain. It feels like he was the one who was gone too, and is just now coming home.

"I missed you," he says again when they separate, following Max back down on the pillow, letting him rearrange the blankets around them both.

"I missed you too," Max murmurs back, rubbing his nose against Daniel's cheek. "I almost killed George. More than once."

It startles a laugh out of Daniel, which makes Max laughs too, the sounds merging in the little space left between them.

Daniel isn't planning on saying it, but as soon as he stops laughing, he opens his mouth and blurts:

"I missed my kitten too."

He feels Max go rigid, looking at him with wide eyes, his ears red.

And then he softens, a small smile, much shyer than usual, making its way onto his lips.

"Yeah?" he asks, uncertain, as if Daniel would ever lie about it.

Daniel shuffles even closer, tucking Max under his chin, dropping a kiss onto his hair.

"Yeah," he murmurs. "I kept imagining you were here, that I could hear you purr."

Max's hands flex on his back, muscles tensing briefly like they always do when Daniel mentions out loud one of his cat behaviors, before letting go.

"We don't have time now, I don't know when they'll call for me, but..." Max hesitates for a second, fingers twisting into Daniel's sleep shirt, "I missed that too. I..if you would like, later?"

Daniel smiles, kissing Max's hair again.

"I would love to."

They don't fall asleep, but they hold each other close, listening to the quiet for a while. Daniel will ask about Max's journey later, about George and about the mission, and even later he'll get to cuddle with a soft little kitten, but for now he just wants to feel Max's body in his arms.

He thinks about the house, the bed, the goat, and a kitten. Thinks that maybe, when he'll ask, Max will choose him.

[msschemmenti]

girl next door 🏠 - 4

a/n: warning you now— i feel like this is sooo much dialogue. but im a whore for dialogue so 🤷🏾‍♀️ forgive me

“When I say girls, you say night! Girls-” Garcia bounced as she rang JJ and Emily’s doorbell giddily.

JJ and Emily rolled their eyed lovingly (you just had to love Garcia). “I’ll get it.” Emily shrugged, leaving JJ to mix God knows what kind of cocktail. It was very clear that tonight was going to be a rather wild night for the trio.

“Girls!” Garcia greeted with a grin as the door opened.

“Night,” Emily said with far less enthusiasm.

“Oh, say it like you mean it! Girls!” Garcia chastised on the doorstep.

“Night, now come inside before I change my mind.” Emily teased. Garcia rolled her eyes in exasperation but made her way inside in search of JJ and the alcohol. SHe dropped her overnight bag on the couch and found the blonde pouring up their first round.

“Ah my sweet beautiful blonde bartender. Let’s get these drinks flowing because your sassy broody partner is not participating in my chants.”

“Emily, you know the chanting is the most important part of Girls night.” JJ scolded.

“And here I was thinking it was the alcohol.”

“Hardy har har, drink up buttercup!” Penelope interrupted, shoving a glass in Emily’s hands and clinking her glass against both of theirs before throwing the drink back.

“Pen! That is not a shot.” JJ gaped watching the tech analyst empty her glass.

“A shot is a shot– no matter how large. Pour me another.” Garcia demanded slapping the glass on the counter and sliding it toward JJ. Both profilers shook their heads in disbelief but followed Garcia’s lead and finished their glasses before pouring another. With arms loaded with snacks and drinks refilled, they made their way to the living room to commence their girls night.

It was just passing 8, when Garcia sat up rather excitedly. “What’s new in the neighborhood, hm? Anything interesting with your hot and super cool neighbor?”

JJ and Emily both attempt to mask their facial expressions, but that simple act is enough for Garcia to beg for information. “Listen– there’s really nothing to tell aside from neighborly things.” Emily shrugged.

“Yeah, she’s an early riser so I see her when I run. Em sees her when we get home. Very neighborly.” JJ adds.

“Uh huh, and are you both still blind to her sapphic desires?” Garcia questioned, calling to their first meeting.

“Well not exactly. We actually got a very clear indicator of her preferences a few weeks ago.” JJ smirked thinking back to their date night. At Garcia’s obvious interest, she continued. “Em and I had dinner in town for once and stumbled upon our dear sweet neighbor on the worst date of her life with a stuffy older woman.”

“I think stuffy is putting it mildly. She was absolutely awful and I only spent 10 minutes with her in the bathroom. I don’t know how she managed the whole evening.” Emily grumbled.

“Oh, this is quite marvelous. So we know for sure, she likes the lady bits. What’s your plan casanovas?”

“What? There’s no plan Penelope. She’s our neighbor and attractive as she is, that feels really close to home.” Emily replied, swirling her drink a bit.

“Well yes, she is geographically close to home.” Garcia hummed thoughtfully before startling again. “Yes, so close– we should invite her over right now.”

“Woah, what? No!” Emily and JJ protested.

“Yes, you said it yourself. There’s no plan in place. She’s your neighbor. Everything is very neighborly. She’s too close to home, blah blah boring excuses. If that’s the case, you should have no problem with me invited her over to girls night. Unless there’s something else you’re not saying…” Garcia goaded.

“No, nothing else to add. We just think– she’d probably busy. It’s Friday and she’s young. She’s probably not even home.” JJ excused with a shrug.

“Well there’s only one way to find out. I’ll be back.” Garcia grinned, swinging to her feet and out the door before Emily and JJ could even think to stop her. With wide eyes they both scrambled to their front window to watch Garcia move down the sidewalk.

-

“Well well well, Penelope Garcia! To what do I owe the pleasure?” Y/n smiled as she leaned against her front door.

“Hi! Wanna get drunk?” Garcia grinned, finally feeling the alcohol she’d chugged.

“Oh? Sugar, you sure you’re not already drunk?” Y/n giggled curiously.

Garcia only grinned harder, “Maybe but that’s not important. We’re having a girls night and you have to come hang out with us.”

Y/n hesitated a bit, “Oh no I don’t want to intrude–”

“You’re not! You’re not, I promise. Both Em and JJ are eagerly awaiting our return right now.”

Y/n looked at the cocoon of blankets she’d been wrapped in on the couch. She looked at the book she’d been working through and shrugged, “Sure, why not? My book’ll be here tomorrow. Let me grab my keys and we can go.” At Y/n’s agreeance, Garcia whooped in celebration. “I gotta warn you though, I’ve been told my accent gets thick as hell when I drink.”

-

No one really knew how they’d gotten to this point. They really could only blame the alcohol and Garcia’s natural ability to pull the most insane things from the depths of one's soul. But they were too far gone to reel it in.

“Okay okay, longest relationship.” Garcia prompts pointedly at the women sprawled across Emily and JJ’s black sectional.

Emily shrugs, “You’re looking at her.” JJ points finger guns over at Emily with a wink before nodding in confirmation.

“Over a year with Kevin. A rotten man from work you don’t know.” Garcia supplies as Y/n nods in understanding. “And you my dear?”

“Well if we’re talking exclusive relationships, a year and a half.” Y/n answer around her glass.

“And if we’re talking non-exclusive?” Garcia asked leaning forward on the couch.

“Well then in that case, it’d be closer to four years.” Y/n shrugged.

“Four years?” JJ asked, shock clearly written across her face. “How does that even happen?”

“I’m from the South. Everyone was closeted then.”

“Oh what’s the story there?” Emily prodded, leaning closer to the younger woman.

Y/n laughed, cheeks red under Emily’s gaze and the alcohol, “Well as I said before, everyone is closeted. It’s high school– hormones are wild, everyone wants to fit in. My neighbor was a cheerleader who couldn’t remember a historical date to save her life. And I was tutoring in more than just History.”

“Oh my god, you little minx.” Garcia grinned. Her smile turned a bit mischievous as her eyes panned to the two older women flanking their neighbor. “But essentially, you were in a four-year-long neighbors with benefits situation?”

Y/n eyed the tech analyst curiously. “Mmhm, that was very formative and educational. I think she’s married with three kids now.”

“That tracks with everything I’ve every known about closeted girls in small towns.” JJ nods. “I’m curious though, how’d you get to the year and a half official relationship after the friends with benefits thing?”

Y/n placed her empty cup on the coffee table and turned to her right, giving JJ her undivided attention. “Well, I graduated high school and ended up in the vocal performance program at NYU. As you can imagine it was much easier to be queer in that space. Met a lot of people, did a lot of drugs. Really leaned into the experience. Absolutely no one I saw while in college was ever particularly serious and that didn’t really change until last year.”

“Wow, only one serious relationship in your whole 26 years of life?” Garcia pouted.

“Oh don’t look so sad about it honey. I’m a really strong advocate for being where you feel happy. And if that means brief trysts with the girl in my Aural Harmony class it’s okay. And if it means a year and a half with a wonderful woman– even better. But just know it will always be with a woman.” Y/n winked.

“So how does that look for you here in DC? We know that last date wasn’t fruitful, have you been on any others?” Emily asked.

“Oh god don’t even remind me. You know she’s called me every Friday since that date? Absolutely insane,” Y/n threw her head back against the couch. All the women groaned and boo’d collectively. “I’m not sure what DC will be for me. I’m open to whatever comes. Grayson, my best friend back in Kentucky, is begging me to get laid. You know,” Y/n started, eyes sweeping from Emily to JJ. “It’s extremely unfortunate that you two are together.” Y/n grumbled.

“Oh?” JJ asked through a chuckle.

“Like I’m positive you deserve each other and are great together— but it’s one of those things where all the sexy, smart, not crazy women are dating each other. Amazing for you, terrible for us.” Both JJ and Emily’s eyes widened a bit and they eye each other over the younger woman’s head.

“Well you know, they’re not that selfish. They’ve been known to share themselves with other women.” Garcia shared— eyes closed. The room grew quiet as both JJ and Emily glared at Garcia’s profile and Y/n’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“I must be drunker than i thought. Cause I could’ve sworn Garcia just suggested that y’all have some kinda open relationship thing going on.” Y/n spoke through a hiccuped giggle.

JJ and Emily laughed nervously and JJ replied, “I’ve been told I’ve got a heavy hand while playing bartender.”

“Trust me no complaints from me,” Y/n winked at the blonde (much slower than usual). She glanced at her phone and heaved a sigh as she rocked to her feet. “This was very fun ladies but I’ve got to get to bed.”

“Oh you could stay, Garcia’s sleeping over.” JJ suggested watching the younger woman sway a bit.

“No no, no need. I can make it the 20 steps to my front door. Thank you though.” Y/n declined, finally feeling stable enough to take a step toward the door.

“At least let one of us walk you back, hm?” Emily asked, already following behind the younger woman toward the door.

“Yes ma’am!”

“I expected a bit more fight in that.” Emily chuckled, slipping her shoes on. “I’ll be back, Jen.”

“Who am I to decline a chivalrous escort?” Y/n shrugged and linked arms with the older woman. The walk wasn’t long at all and once Y/n was stood in her doorway she sent Emily a sleepy smile. “Thank you for walking me back and for letting me crash your girls' night.”

“Anytime,” Emily smiled softly. “Let us know if you need anything, alright?” Y/n nodded in understanding and watched as Emily headed down the sidewalk.

“Goodnight!” Her southern twang floated through the night and Emily fought a laugh as she waved and returned the sentiments.

As soon as she was back in her own house, she rejoined JJ and Penelope on the couch and turned her gaze to the colorful woman they both loved. “Pen, you my dear sweet friend, are sooooo in for it tomorrow.”

[4only1]

Hello, hi. I read your fantastic Gitae fic and was wondering if you could do one where him and reader are business partners and are like considered a deadly duo because they work so well together and because the basically have the same personality but reader is much more sane and mostly tries to keep Gitae's bloodshed clean and not too messy but she overworks herself and is constantly on alert and Giate want to assure that they can both trust each other but reader was betrayed alot because people considered her weak and useless. 💋 thank you for listening to my Ted talk lovieeee

What you know

Gitae Kim X Reader

Masterlist

------------------------------------------

When people heard the names (Y/N) (L/N) and Gitae Kim, they knew there would be trouble. Gitae, a man of strange habits and pure strength, the patricide. (Y/N), a genius who kept the whole drug cartel together, heck, kept Gitae together. Without you, he would be a dysfunctional wreck, not keeping his bloodsheding tendencies together.

You had been waiting in the car since Gitae went to deal with Kwak Jichang, the king- well, soon to be former king of Seoul. As you shuffle papers around in your hand, casually glancing at your phone every now and then, waves of exhaustion hit you. You both had arrived in Korea a few days ago, but when did you last sleep? Someone had to keep the drug cartel running at all hours, and while Gitae was meeting with James Lee and relaxing, it was up to you to do that work. Paperwork really wasn’t Gitae’s thing anyway. Numbers too.

As you kept fighting the feeling of sleep, the car door opened. Gitae entered the car soon after, talking on the phone, most likely to James Lee. Frustration bubbled within you as you noted Gitae's new addition to his look. He didn’t have that much blood on him when he left.

“Seriously”

Is all you manage to get out once Gitae hangs up the phone. Not only did he do the exact opposite of what he told you he was going to do, but he also came back soaked in blood. 

“I thought we talked about being less swing happy with the axe!”

“Not my fault. That Jichang guy was alright, but the police came so I had to deal with them.”

Gitae casually said, blowing out a puff of smoke with his sentence. You click your tongue at his response, before looking back at the papers. A yawn you tried so hard to keep back escapes your lips, drawing Gitae’s attention to you.

“And you have the nerve to scold me in that state. I thought we talked about you not overworking yourself.”

Gitae says, a bit mockingly, turning your own phrasing against you. You look at him, annoyance in your tired eyes. No matter how many times he told you to rest, you just couldn’t. You needed to prove your worth, no matter what personal cost came from it. You weren’t a fighter like Gitae, even the lower members of the gang have you beat in strength. You were the brains, you had to be, you couldn’t let simple exhaustion prevent you from doing the one thing that defined your worth. If things were running smoothly, you weren’t useless. 

You couldn't let a small mistake even become a thought. You feared that if something did happen, big or small, you would be cast aside, replaced with someone else. You couldn't let it happen, not again, you couldn't allow yourself to be thrown away again.

Lost in thought, you don't notice that Gitae has grabbed the papers until you feel them leaving your hand. You turn to him, ready to yell, when his gaze stops you. He didn't have a caring bone in his body, so why did he look at you with those soft eyes? Why did he make it so hard for you to not trust him. In all the time you've known him, he hasn't so much as yelled at you, just playful banter. Even that was enough to put you on edge. Why was he so kind to you but harsh to everybody else?

“Go to sleep.” Is all he says. 

“You can't be serious. I have to finish that work by tonight or-” He quickly cuts you off in a stern tone. But the gentleness is still there.

“Sleep. I refuse to spend another second being scolded by your sleep deprived ass. What's the saying, happy wife, happy life? You’re basically my wife with how you nag me all the time. I prefer if your grouchy ass was rested, so I don't have to deal with your complaints.”

Gitae calmly says before again reaching over and forcing you to lay down across the backseat, your head resting on his leg. You fought to keep your eyes open, but the comfort of Gitae's presence kept you relaxed. You wanted to argue back, but it didn't take long for sleep to consume you.

His large hand rested on the side of your head, stroking your hair. Cigarette smoke filled the air, but that didn't bother you much. You felt comfortable, safe, trusting. Maybe just this time, you can trust someone a little bit more.

------------------------------------------

Always love writing a Gitae request. I need to see more of this man in the story please. Next request comes out next week, spoilers, it's another Shingen request (what do y'all see in that man?)

I didn't properly proof read this one so I hope it sounds fine.

[manheeiim]

Nothing Lasts Forever - Crushin' and Kissin'

ᥫ᭡ link to nothing lasts forever masterlist

I got out of my mom's car that she let me borrow for the night since she was doing nothing. I locked the door and started to walk toward the crowd that surrounded the front of the screen.

JJ had invited me to come with his friends and him to some outdoor movie night thing. Honestly, I was starting to feel like I was intruding at this point but I didn't want to say no because I didn't want him to think that I didn't want to hang out with his friends and especially him.

I walk past Kiara who's talking to some guy before looking and seeing JJ and Pope sitting with one another. I walked over and JJ glanced over, giving me a smile. He put his hand on my hip as I walked over.

"Hey, cutie." JJ teasingly says and I just roll my eyes in embarrassment as Pope looks at us.

"Hey." I shyly say. "Uh, where should I sit?" I ask and Pope is about to let me sit next to him on the blanket on the ground but JJ interferes, pulling me into his lap where he sat. I tense up as Pope looks at us and I look down at my lap. JJ's hands go around my waist and simply rest on my stomach, acting like this is totally normal. As he always did.

Kiara comes over, "I'm not even gonna ask." She says, referring to JJ and I, before handing everyone a drink except obviously me but I didn't mind. "Just saw Rafe, and he said, and I quote, 'Tell your boy that we know what he did'." She says.

Pope looks up at JJ, shaking a little.

"Um, where is he?" JJ asks.

"Right there." She looks back and so do we all. I could see the guy she was talking to earlier standing with two other guys.

"Great, the whole death squad." Pope says, still staring after everyone looked away and JJ forces his head to look forward.

"Just warning you, bro. If they corner me, I'm coming out swinging, okay? Slice and dicin'. I'm on edge right now." JJ tells Pope. "If that doesn't work, I got this right here." JJ motions to his bag that's on the ground by his feet.

"Yeah, yeah. So we just gotta stay in the group." Pope agrees.

"Like a school of fish." JJ says.

"Stay in the school. Can't leave the school." Pope adds.

"Uh, what's in your bag?" I ask, glancing back at JJ.

"Please tell me that you did not bring a gun here." Kiara adds. "JJ, there are kids." She says.

"You brought that gun?" I respond.

"I didn't bring the gun. Alright, everything's fine. Okay? It's fine, Lucia. I didn't bring the gun." JJ insists but it isn't that convincing.

"Founding principle, you guys, no secrets amongst Pogues." Kiara tells them. "Though, Lucia probably knows and she isn't even a Pogue." She responds, a little backhandedly, and I'm confused. I thought we'd been totally chill. I didn't know her that well but I didn't think we had a problem.

"Kiara, stop." JJ sighs. "She doesn't know. Don't bring her into this. This is... it doesn't matter what we did." JJ says.

"It might go down tonight." Pope says.

"What did y'all do?" Kiara asks.

"Deny, deny, deny." JJ simply tells Pope and I could tell that Kiara just gives up on asking.

It grows dark out and I'm still in JJ's lap, one hand holding a can of soda, the other on my thigh as I watch the old-timey movie on the screen. I could hear Pope whispering something to JJ in the middle of the field but I don't pay much mind to it.

JJ lets out a groan before patting my thigh, "We're gonna go to the bathroom."

I glance back before nodding and getting up from his lap. He gets up and slides past me, his body sliding against mine from behind, before he starts to walk off with Pope.

"Hey, where are y'all going?" Kiara whispers and they look back.

"We gotta wring it out." JJ says, making me furrow my eyebrows.

"You gonna hold it for each other?" Kiara comments as they walk off.

We sit there for a bit before Kiara and I notice shadows behind the screen. There was obviously a fight going on. She glances at me and we both get up and rush back there, Kiara grabbing JJ's bag on the way. What we were going to do against a bunch of basically grown men? I didn't know. It didn't matter though.

Kiara and I run over and she starts yelling and hitting one of them with the bag. He grabs the bag from her and she stumbles back into me and I stabilize her. She gets on his back and I'm freaking. I don't know what I could do. Rafe grabs Kiara and pulls her off of the guy before throwing her on the ground and I rush over.

"You okay?" I ask.

"The gun.. the gun." She says and I rush over to the bag and pull JJ's gun out. I hesitate as I look at the boy's beating JJ and Pope up. I put the gun back in the bag before grabbing a lighter. Kiara looks at me before taking it. I watch as she goes over to the projector screen and lights it on fire with the lighter.

That catches everyone's attention, including the guys beating JJ and Pope up and they go running. I go over to JJ as Kiara goes over to Pope and I put my hands on his biceps.

"Are you okay?" I ask as he catches his breath after being choked.

"I'm good. I'm good." He assures me, though obviously he wasn't. "Let's go. We gotta go." JJ tells me after looking at the fire. He grabs his bag before putting his arm over my shoulder and walking with me.

"Who were those guys?" I ask as we walk.

"Rafe, Topper, and Kelce. Some rich-ass kooks." JJ says.

"What'd- what'd you guys do that made them so mad anyway?" I ask as I glance up at him. We walk through the parking lot towards my car.

JJ's silent for a few moments. "Got back at them. That's what." He simply says. "It don't matter what we did. It'll be fine." JJ reassures me.

"Are you sure?" I ask.

"I'm sure." He says as we arrive in front of my mom's car.

I stand there and neither of us say a thing for a moment, "How do you always manage to get into trouble?" I lightly say as I look up at him.

"It's in my nature, I guess." He says as he looks down. "I don't mean to. Not when you're around." JJ says.

I don't know what to say as I look up at him. He looks down into my eyes for a few moments before the both of us are simultaneously leaning in and kissing one another. His hands rest on my hips as he bends a bit down to kiss me. The kiss isn't exactly a peck but it's nothing too much. We kiss for a few moments before pulling away.

"Get home safe, sweets." JJ says before ruffling my hair and stepping back.

"Bye." I say, my heart beating out of my chest due to the fact that my crush and I had just kissed.

"Bye, Lucia." He says before heading off.

What even was tonight? I couldn't tell if it'd gone good or bad. Probably bad but for me, it ended off on a high note.

[sainz100]

2024 Singapore GP | x

[mars-ipan]

god i cannot wait to be off these steroids…

[klanced]

also................keith internally: should the suns of the universe conspire and die together as one i shall not be afraid for i have my warmth, i have my light. out of my reach, yes, but the burning inside me matches nonetheless. lance internally: oughhh keith shoulders...... :333

lance when he has a crush: im gonna be so cool about this. so casual. like dating is all about having funnnnnn right like im here for a good time not a long time 😎👍🏼 (<- literally only ever dates with the intent for marriage)

keith when he has a crush:

[cetoddle]

i said i’d be done tiering since my current work schedule would make it difficult and yet here i am with plans for T10 on haruka5

[cuteniarose]

oooh cruel and painful hair cutting scene?

Okay, so this one requires some context (actually, all of them do, because everything I write is very far removed from canon and is OC-centric. Not my fault LoK canon sucks for the most part and my own characters are much more fun to play around with). In my main AU, Seeds of the Red Lotus, my Mingzan child OCs were left with Haya, Ghazan's older sister, when their parents left for the South Pole to kidnap Korra 13 years prior to the show's events. But what they didn't account for is that Haya was still fucking pissed at Ghazan for leaving her when he ran away as a teenager, so she began seeing his kids as proof of him abandoning her for the RL and for that swamp rat (a.k.a Ming-Hua), and started taking out that unprocessed anger, grief and prejudice on these poor innocent children :(

Suiren, Mingzan's eldest, was generally extremely sensitive to a lot of things even before due to her autism, but obviously it was only exacerbated by Haya's abuse. One of Haya's methods to get Suiren to maintain eye contact was to pull at her hair, which led to her realising hair pulling got Suiren to behave, and eventually it was done so much that it developed into a full on trigger and a foolproof way to get Suiren to dissociate as a defence mechanism :/ And that's bad enough on its own, but a side effect is that now even the smallest tug at Suiren's hair triggers her, even the ones that occur during hair brushing, so now she neglects it which only makes Haya even more mad at her for her hair being all messy and tangled. She said that if Suiren didn't pull herself together and sort it out, she'd just chop all her hair off, which Suiren can't allow because it's one of the last connections she has to her mother.

Now, in actual canon, said haircut never happened, but almost a year ago now I was feeling particularly evil and decided to write a small AU about what would happen if it did (yep. A whole separate AU to torture an 8 year old child more than I already do. Idk what that says about me as a person but it can't be good). I then never finished it because my mental health is a little bitch that won't let me write, but I really want to delve into the aftermath of said event so hopefully sharing a part now will give me the push I need to continue once things stabilise a little. So now, after that obnoxiously long explanation, a snippet of the fic itself (under the cut, because this is already long enough):

(TW for child abuse, dissociation and general awfulness)

Suiren kept fighting even as Haya pinned her in place. She didn’t care if it would result in more punishment later on, nothing could be as bad as what Haya was about to do if Suiren didn’t manage to get away. At one point, she almost managed to bite at Haya’s hand, which earned her a slap to the face.

“It’s like you’re trying to make this harder for yourself, Girl. We could have been done already if you just stayed fucking still!”

She moved her hand from Suiren’s shoulder to grab a strand of hair next to her face, pulling slightly. Suiren despised the involuntary freeze of her entire body. Haya brought up the scissors, slowly, and measured out the length, stopping at just above Suiren’s chin.

Suiren forced herself to meet Haya’s eyes, trying one last time to get through to her, get her to show mercy just this once. She wanted to say something but her tongue wouldn’t obey.

For just a moment, it almost seemed like it worked. Haya’s eyes widened, she stared down at Suiren with an almost horrified expression, her hand, the one holding the scissors, shook.

Then, she blinked and it was gone.

She drew her eyebrows together in focus as she made the first cut.

Suiren watched the hair fall onto her chest in what felt like slow motion. She didn’t want to look at it, to be reminded that this was all real and not yet another nightmare, but couldn’t force herself to turn away,

Haya grabbed another strand.

‘Please,’ Suiren wanted to scream, ‘You’ve made your point. I’ll behave now, I’ll be good, you don’t need to do this. Please let me go.’

But Haya would never listen to her, she’d only be wasting her breath. Tears burned at her eyes and she struggled to breathe around the lump in her throat as Haya kept cutting, more and more of her hair falling to the floor. Having gained confidence in her actions, Haya increased her speed.

Something inside Suiren, some persistent sense of spite that somehow hadn’t died off yet, urged her to keep fighting. Haya had her securely pinned down, ensuring the wouldn’t move, but when had that even been enough to stop her?

As Haya, with her guard seemingly down, moved to the hair on the other side of Suiren’s face, Suiren gathered all her strength to try and push her off again.

All she succeeded at was getting her right cheekbone nicked by the blade, a result of turning her head too suddenly at precisely the wrong time.

However small, the spot where the scissors broke her skin hurt more than most bruises. A single drop of blood tickled her cheek as it rolled down it. Haya stopped and grabbed her by the chin to inspect the damage. 

“Now look what you’ve done,” she hissed, then forcibly turned Suiren’s face to grab more of her hair and pull harder than she ever had before.

The last thing Suiren registered was Haya struggling to cut through a thick, knotted, matted clump. 

She faintly heard the non-stop snipping, too quick to ensure the cuts would be even, felt the fallen strands against her skin, but the welcoming blankness of her mind pushed it all away. She shut her eyes tight and tried with everything left in her to imagine a place far away from Haya’s house, where she would be safe, where no one would ever touch her again. 

She didn’t know how much time passed, but eventually, Haya let her go.

[gerbiloftriumph]

swing

halo from lily-fox

(7)

[thehardkandy]

I do think it's the winter getting to me but as soon as vacation ended I am digging myself further into a feeling of. Missing something important

[orphanedwolfandfriends]

Pic of dog