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pascalpanic · 3 years

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Blood, Sweat, and Tears (Javier Peña x f!Reader)- Chapter Three

Summary: You meet Javier for the third time. Additionally, you both begin to discover how much the Murphys love to meddle.

W/C: 2.3k

Warnings: language, innuendo

A/N: This is where things start to get interesting! I’m so in love with this fic and can’t wait for all of you to hopefully love these two like I do! This chapter was really fun to write (Steve and Javi are so much fun) and from here, it’s the interesting stuff!

p.s. this gif makes me WEAK... do you know how badly I want to make Javi smile 🥺

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You’ve known Javier Peña for a total of five days now, have met him twice, but he’s still all you can think about. Lorena catches on easily that something has put you in a dreamy and lovely mood as you hum and smile to yourself, folding the linens for beds.

“¿Quiubo, Ana?” She asks, bumping into your side and teasingly asking you what’s up in Colombian slang. Your name is not Ana, no, but the girls around here love to call you it; they derived the nickname from americana. As much as it bugs you, it’s better than gringa, your original name around here.

You shake your head, ponytail swinging lightly behind you. “It’s nothing,” you shrug, but you’re smiling, and Lorena giggles a little.

“Nothing my ass. Tell me, who is it? It’s gotta be someone, right?” She asks, and you smile a little wider, shaking your head again. “No one smiles while doing the goddamn sheets, chica.”

Shrugging, you wrap up a blanket and giggle. “Well, there’s a guy, yes,” you finally admit, biting your lip as you think about him. His face, his handsome face, the way you made him laugh. That seemed rare from a man like him.

Lorena squeals and bounces, her dark and curly ponytail following her movements. “Tell me everything. Come on, I’m your best friend, you know you can,” she whines, grabbing your arm.

You yank your arm away to continue folding the sheets, but you still have a dreamy smile as you think about him. “Well, I met him at the gym. The night that woman died,” you tell her, and both of you droop softly at the memory, though the excitement returns as you think of Javier again. “His name is Javier. Oh my god, he’s so handsome,” you laugh as you picture him. “He’s got this mustache, right? It looks so 70s but it’s so hot on him.”

Wiggling her eyebrows, Lorena laughs and picks up some sheets, helping you fold them. “All the better when his mouth is between-“

“Lori!” You squeal and push her teasingly, laughing at her terrible thoughts. “Jesus Christ,” you groan, but the smile remains plastered on your face.

“Estás tragada, Ana,” she practically sings as she sees the look on your face. It’s another slang term around here- literally, it means you’ve been swallowed; figuratively, that you’re head over heels.

Rolling your eyes, you toss a folded sheet down on the table. “I’ve known him for five days.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t be completely in love with him,” she teases. Lorena is young, only 19, full of dreams and hope. She’s similar to the Disney princesses you grew up on, you think, huge brown eyes gleaming and dark waves bouncing along with her.

You shake your head. “Don’t you have a catheter or something to go do?” You tease her, chuckling as her expression sours. “Go on, ¡ábrase!”

Lorena rolls her eyes and leaves the room. “Tragada!” She shouts before closing the door, leaving you to your folding.

Javier lights a cigarette, watching the smoke trail from the end of it. It’s hypnotic for a moment, exactly what he needs to keep his mind off of the two most pressing matters in his head right now: the paperwork in front of him, and you. He takes a drag from the cigarette and exhales for a moment before sipping the coffee in front of him, expression dropping from completely neutral to a frown when Steve sits down in front of him.

“Mornin’, Javi,” the blonde man grumbles as he plops down in his office chair, taking a long swig from the large coffee mug he holds. Javi raises his eyebrows quickly in greeting before turning back to his paperwork, but Steve is in a chatty mood today. Unsurprising, Javier thinks, as Murphy starts talking again. “Spare one?” He asks, nodding to the cigarette.

Groaning, Javier nods and hands him one and his lighter. “You owe me around $30 in spares now,” he says teasingly, his mind elsewhere.

Steve rolls his eyes as he brings it to his lips and lights it. “Real friends don’t keep running tabs.” “We’re not friends, we’re partners,” Javier says, trying to sound threatening, but they both know it’s a lie. Steve is Javier’s best, if not only, friend.

“Speakin’ of friends, heard from Connie that you’ve got a new one. One that does more than fuck you,” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “You wanna tell me ‘bout her?”

The cigarette returns to Javier’s lips for another long and slow drag before he bothers responding. “No.”

Murphy laughs a little at that, sipping his own mug of coffee. “Good news for you then. You don’t have to. The word around the hospital is that she’s completely smitten with you,” he informs the man across from him, the coffee mug covering the lower half of his face.

That finally grabs Javier’s attention, causing him to lift a brow in curiosity. Steve grins. “So you do like her as more than something warm at night,” he chuckles a little, setting down his mug. “And you haven’t even kissed her yet, wow,” he nods, observing Javier’s reactions and reading them.

Javier rolls his eyes and Steve laughs again. “I’ll have to tell Connie all about how you feel. Maybe that girl’ll get the nerve before you and make the first move.” “Don’t you fucking dare, Murphy,” Javier practically hisses at him, leaning across his desk.

“Wow,” Steve chuckles and leans back in his seat, dragging out the vowel of the word. “You’re really into her.” “I am not some teenage boy you can poke and prod and call chicken, Stephen,” Javier threatens, annoyance clearly growing. “What I do with my love life is none of your fucking business, unlike you and Connie seem to think,” he says with force, sitting back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest.

“Jesus, Jav. Just trying to help,” he shakes his head and drinks the last of his coffee, standing. He takes Javier’s mug too, heading for the coffee machine in the break room. “One last thing: Connie told me that the girl gets off at 6 tonight, and she’s going to the gym after.” Steve smirks a little and turns away.

“Fuck you, Murphy!” Javier shouts after the man, who’s walking to the break room with a little more pep in his step.

Murphy flips Javi the bird over his shoulder.

As you walk to the gym, the sweltering heat of Colombia doesn’t annoy you as much as normal. You’re already about to be sweating your ass off, it’s fine. The sun is slowly slipping down the horizon, not quite at sunset yet, casting a golden glow over the crowded streets.

Someone in the street is singing, and it fills the warm air just the way the humidity does. He’s talented, playing a guitar too, and you toss a 50 peso coin in his case as you pass. You hum along, the song familiar to you thanks to the radio, even murmuring the words to yourself. It’s an absolutely beautiful evening, and the only thing that could make it more beautiful would be encountering the beautiful DEA agent who has occupied a corner of your mind for the past week

Turning the corner, you spot the entrance to the gym, and notice that the door is being opened by a man with slightly wavy brown hair and a neat mustache- Javier, you grin to yourself. You jog a little to catch up, calling his name, and his eyes seem to glimmer a little as he hears you.

You’ve never seen the man in the daylight, and it’s truly a sight to behold. The light accentuates the hills and valleys of his skin, the slight hook of his nose, and most importantly his stunning eyes. The light catches them just right, showing the depth in those shimmering brown rings around his irises. His hair is lighter than you thought, when it hasn’t been dampened by sweat, and shines in the sunlight just like the rest of him does. “Fancy seeing you in the daylight,” you tease, an easy smile crossing your face.

Javier is noticing the exact same things about you. His lips tug up in one corner at the way your ponytail bounces and swings with your steps, your beautiful skin in the golden-hour sun, the way your smile lightly crinkles your nose. He opens the door for you and follows you inside. “It is different, I agree. So no graveyard shift tonight?” He asks you.

Nodding, there’s a genuinely excited smile on your face. “Yep. For the next two weeks, I only work days. I can’t wait, oh my god,” you sigh, tightening your ponytail and shoving your bag into a locker. “How about you? This is an odd hour for a man with your job,” you ask.

The man simply shrugs. “Believe it or not, I get off at about 5:30 every night. I usually end up at the office for much longer, considering the workload.”

That surprises you. “Holy fuck, you’re kidding,” you laugh, unable to believe it, but Javier simply shakes his head, confirming it to be true. “Do you at least get paid overtime or something?”

“It’s not manual labor or anything, so no. It’s just expected of you when you’re on this kind of job,” Javier shrugs, walking to the boombox before you can and turning on a station of lively Colombian music.

“I’d die. I’d literally die,” you laugh, adjusting your tank top and making your way to an elliptical.

“You save people for a living. I deal with a lot of blood, and I can barely handle it; meanwhile, it’s your literal job to deal with that stuff,” he shakes his head and gets on a treadmill, a couple of yards away from you and facing the same wall.

“Different people are suited for different work, I suppose,” you shrug as you begin moving, enjoying the relaxation that comes with the moment.

The two of you continue on your respective cardio machines for a while, before you break the silence and pause the machine to take a swig of water. “Where’s your water bottle, huh?” You ask him.

Javier stops his machine as well, amusement in his eyes. “You know, I don’t seem to be able to get as hard of a workout in when you’re around. Too much chatter,” he teases, raising an eyebrow.

You’ve been known to babble, too much sometimes, and that makes a little bubble of anxiety pop inside your stomach. “Shit, I’m sorry Javier,”’ you shake your head and turn back to the machine. “I’ll stop-”

“I never said I don’t enjoy it,” he says, the deadpan cracking and a small smile tugging across his face. It makes the anxiety dissipate as easily as it formed, the way he smiles at you and those beautiful eyes meet yours. “Like you said when we met. It’s nice to talk to an American,” he shrugs simply, crossing his arms for a moment before letting them drop again. “Especially one like you.”

You giggle softly at that, biting down on your lip and looking down. When you look up, Javier has turned the machine back on and is holding a comfortable jog. Fine, so that’s how he wants to play it. You bite down harder on your lip to hold back a stupidly lovestruck grin from crossing your face, instead turning back to your machine and getting moving again.

A while later, a few snarky comments from each of you, the 30-minute period the cardio machines run comes to an end. You both sigh, panting and regaining your breath, as you try your hardest to keep your eyes off the man in the large mirrored wall. He’s handsome when he’s working out too, you’ve known that since the first time you met him, his tan skin flushed and tinged with pink. The sweat coats his forehead and you wonder if it’s uncomfortable to have that mustache when he’s exercising- maybe you should ask, you consider, but immediately change your mind. He already finds you nosy, you’re sure, you don’t need to push it more.

The man turns to you, hands on his waist. “Weightlifting competition?” He asks, a smirk on his face as he breathes heavily.

“Oh, you’re fucking on, Peña,” you laugh, grabbing your water bottle and taking a long swig from it. You set it down on a weightlifting bench a few moments later after you find your way to a squat rack. “Let’s do squats, huh?” You ask, already moving to put your preferred weight on the bar.

Javier tries to hold back his discontent when he sees the weights you’re loading onto it. “I was really hoping for maybe a bench press or something, but I guess I never specified,” he murmurs, sitting on the bench and waiting for you.

When you’re all set, you get under the bar and lift it on your shoulders, walking forward and doing a couple of squats. You make eye contact with Javier and shoot him a wink, earning a little chuckle and a twitch of the top lip, hidden beneath his mustache. You walk it back and set the bar down, then crack your back softly and look at him. “Go for it,” you say, gesturing to the rack.

“I suppose I can’t back out now,” he nods, getting under the bar in a similar way to you and letting out a grunt. “Fuck, you’re strong,” he grits out as he stands up, the bar resting on his traps. He does one squat, with effort, then returns it to the holding spot. “Okay, you win.”

You whoop happily, throwing your hands in the air and laughing. “Jesus, maybe it’s a good thing you’re coming here more often,” you tease, moving to take the weights off the bar.

“Maybe it is,” he chuckles to himself as he removes the weights from the other side of the bar, thinking about it. It is good for him; he gets to see you.

tag list:

@diogodxlot

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #javi peña #javi peña x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #narcos #narcos fanfic #blood sweat and tears

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xxdragonwriterxx · 4 years

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🔥I’m Done Playing Games So I’m Going Down in Flames (Mafia AU)🔥

A/N: Okay so I’ve been reading a lot of Mafia AU’s lately and now I’m obsessed. I’ve always loved this AU but some amazing recent fics have revived my soft spot for them so I decided to give a shot at my own! If you want some absolutely top notch Mafia AU Levi fics to read, go read the stuff from @mysteriousmagicx and @ackermans-freedom-inc! They both have fantastic work all around and inspire me all the time. Thanks for the support and enjoy!

🐉 Song Recommendation: “The Search” By: NF 🐉

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‘Damn, she’s still working isn’t she?’ Levi thought as he looked up from the crime thriller he’d been reading, his brow furrowed as he glared at the closed door of their bedroom, waiting for his girlfriend to finally come to bed with him.

He glanced at the clock and sighed when the little red numbers told him it was already 3 AM. While he greatly admired his girlfriend’s work ethic and stamina, always getting everything done efficiently, he also hated it. She tended to let her responsibilities take over her life, working until she collapsed and neglecting to take care of herself until every project was done for the day, which unfortunately, always seemed like a never ending list.

Levi got up, determined to get her to relax, even if he had to force her to. He was worried about her, her boss dumping way more work than usual on (Y/N) as the company she worked for struggled to overcome a recent financial obstacle. He knew it was important to her, and he definitely didn’t want her to lose her job, but this was the sixth night in a row in which she hadn’t slept more than an hour or two and it was starting to get on his nerves.

He missed having her warm presence in bed with him, lulling him to sleep when his insomnia normally troubled him until the early morning hours. He missed waking up to her sleepy smile and half-lidded eyes, her gaze filled with love as she gave him his good morning kiss. He missed seeing her bright eyes and energized personality, going on runs with him or laughing as she cooked something mouthwatering in the kitchen. Now, (Y/N) could barely do more than give him a tired kiss on the cheek when she trudged home from the office before collapsing on the couch in a desperate attempt to catch up on sleep, only to wake up an hour later to continue her grueling assignments.

Slipping into the hallway, Levi padded quietly through the dark until he reached her office door, the golden light spilling out from underneath it and the sound of clacking computer keys floating through the wood. Raising his fist to the door, Levi knocked three times and waited as the sound of typing faltered only to be replaced by the sound of her chair scraping along the wood floor.

When (Y/N) opened the door, Levi had to stop himself from wincing. She looked absolutely drained. Her skin was paler than usual, almost sickly in the golden light, her cheeks were sunken in a little, her cheekbones protruding from her face as if someone was stretching her skin, and dark circles made her look as if she had been punched, displaying her exhaustion under her eyes clearly for anyone to see.

“Hey, Levi, I’m almost done, okay? Then I’ll come to bed, I promise,” (Y/N) said with a tired smile, fighting back a yawn, not even needing him to speak to know why he was here.

“(Y/N), you look like shit,” Levi said.

(Y/N) smiled wider at his blunt response and shook her head at him with a chuckle. “Thanks, Levi, I try.”

“I’m serious,” he said. “You look so tired I don’t even know if you’re really awake. You could be sleep walking for all I know.”

“I know,” (Y/N) sighed. “But I have to finish these reports before tomorrow, otherwise my boss will kill me. Why don’t you go back to bed? Try to get some sleep? I’ll meet you there soon, I promise.”

“Join me in twenty minutes. If you’re not done by then, I’m dragging you there and tying you to the bed.”

“Oh, how forward,” (Y/N) teased.

“I mean it, I’m not letting you kill yourself over work. You need to sleep and if that means forcing you to relax, then that’s what I’ll do.”

(Y/N) nodded, her shoulders slumping as she made her way back to her desk. She knew she needed to go to bed, and she wanted more than anything to snuggle up to Levi and let his warm protectiveness lull her to sleep, but she also wanted to make sure she had done the most she could possibly do before she retired for the night.

Settling back into her desk chair, (Y/N) almost felt like crying in frustration as she woke her computer up again, envying the damn machine for getting more shut eye than her. She could feel Levi watching her from where he was leaning against the doorframe, his intense gaze burning into her back, but she ignored the urge to cave and started typing again.

After a few moments, Levi eventually left again, closing the door behind him as he mumbled something about keeping his promise of dragging her away. (Y/N) smiled despite herself at her boyfriend’s antics, his love and concern for her giving her the strength to keep working.

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Levi scowled at (Y/N) over the rim of his tea cup, frowning at the dead look in her eyes. He had eventually gotten her to come to their room the night before, but he knew she had tossed and turned for a significant portion of the night, thoughts about her job and the stress that came with it, keeping her up.

He wanted desperately to help her with it, to maybe even take some of her workload for her so she could finally get some damn rest. But he didn’t know anything about budgets and profits and organizing trade deals. (Y/N) worked for a company as their assistant manager, making sure everything ran smoothly and handling the organizational parts of running a business, which was where the majority of her work came from. His annoyed growl made her glance up at him, the low noise snapping her out of her zoned out state.

“Everything alright, Levi?” (Y/N) asked sweetly, blinking a few times and digging into the bacon and eggs in front of her in an attempt to wake herself up more.

“No, it’s not. You’re working too hard and I’m worried about you.”

“I know,” (Y/N) said softly, her fork dropping to hang limply from her fingertips so she could twirl it on the edge of the plate. “But unfortunately we are going through a rough patch right now in the company, so I’ve been having to work double time to make sure things get back up to speed. Assuming it gets better, I’ll be able to relax more when things calm down. My boss is just panicking at the moment, so I’ve needed to step up to provide her the support she needs to get us through this, which means extra hours.”

Levi knew what she said made sense, but he still couldn’t help being unhappy about it. He missed when (Y/N) was lively and bright-eyed, telling him about her day and giving him the affection he pretended to find annoying. Hugging him, kissing him, combing through his hair with her fingers, and smiling because she knew he loved it anyway. Grunting in acknowledgement, Levi took another sip of his tea before reaching for a strip of bacon, attempting to ignore the unusual silence that filled the house.

Levi wished he could be there to support her more. She obviously wasn’t taking care of herself, and he wanted nothing more than to pull her back to bed and snuggle with her, ignoring her protests as she only put in half the effort to escape from his warm embrace and go back to work. But he too had work that day and didn’t have time to slide back into bed with (Y/N), no matter how tempting that may sound. As if someone was reading his mind, his phone rang and when he looked at the number, he nodded to (Y/N).

She nodded back. She knew when he nodded to her that it was a work related call for him. She watched as he stood from the table and made his way into the other room, his voice echoing back as he told the person on the other line to stay on target until he got there. Standing up, (Y/N) put away their dishes as Levi hung up and made his way to the door, grabbing his jacket on the way out.

(Y/N) gave Levi a quick hug and a sweet kiss on the lips right before he walked out the door, waving to him as he made his way to his sleek black car and drove off. She watched until he was nothing more than a black speck in the distance before shutting the door and immediately heading back to her office to finish her work.

___________________________________

Levi was sitting on the couch, his hands clasped together with his elbows on his knees as he poured over the papers on the glass coffee table at his estate, his eyes narrowing on the text.

“Fucking idiot. At this rate, we’ll have no choice but to face him,” Levi muttered angrily, glaring at the photos and documents in front of him.

Erwin sighed from the arm chair across from Levi, his fingers reaching up to rub at his temples where a headache was starting to build. “I know, but you know he won’t stop, not until he gets what he wants. If we keep dodging this, it could lead to some major territorial issues, should another group decide we are being too lax with our borders. We need to put an end to this, right now, before it gets even worse.”

“But doing so will put us in the spotlight, Erwin,” Levi countered. “You know as well as I do that, although being famous in the criminal underbelly has its perks, being well known outside of that bubble can be detrimental. If we go through with what Zeke Yeager is requesting, we will be completely exposed; to the media, to the public, to the police. It’ll be a slaughter, and we’ll have to give up our territory anyway.”

“I know,” Erwin muttered, slouching in his chair. “But we have a similar outcome if we don’t follow through with his demands. He’s got us cornered, and he is obviously willing to go to any length to make sure we cooperate.”

Levi growled and glared at the photos again, the images making his heart pound. While he was alarmed at the sight of them, he was not surprised that the photos were of (Y/N). He had tried his very best to keep her out of his mess, to keep her bright light from being swallowed by the darkness he ruled, but he knew realistically that there was no guaranteed way to keep her safe. Alongside the photos of (Y/N) were also photos of Erwin’s lover Emily, her smile beaming as she took a walk on a beach or had a lunch date with (Y/N), the two of them having been friends since high school.

He hated to admit it but the photos were proof. Both he and Erwin were most definitely cornered, Zeke taunting the two powerful mafia bosses with the safety and survival of their respective lovers as if it were a game. Levi wished he were strong enough to fight against Zeke, to come off as unaffected, but he wouldn’t risk (Y/N) for anything. No matter what happened, if it guaranteed her life and safety, he would comply. He supposed that made him seem weak, something that would’ve made his past self scoff in disgust, but he couldn’t change how she made him feel and how unconditionally he loved her. If protecting her meant the end of him, either as a mafia boss or in life, then so be it.

______________________________

Levi didn’t let himself regret anything as he shouldered on his jacket, his eyes roving over the things he’d laid out on the bed in preparation for this meeting. He knew he should probably be trying to think of ways to outsmart the rival mafia leader, finding ways to kill him and continue expanding like he had been doing for the past several years. But as he packed the few things from the estate he thought he would need, his thoughts were only focused on his gorgeous lover, her warm smile and contagious laughter filling his senses.

He sighed. He knew she wouldn’t understand, and he feared she would do something rash in response. But he trusted Hanji, the only one he had told about this meeting aside from Erwin, to keep her safe for him. He tried not to think about it too much, what (Y/N) might do when she found out about what was about to happen. She had left early for work that morning, giving him the perfect opportunity to write her a lengthy letter telling her how much he loved her and how none of it was her fault. He knew the letter was far from adequate in explaining everything to his beloved girlfriend, but it would have to do.

Strapping a single small pistol to his belt, Levi gave his room one last glance before pushing through the door, nodding to his members as he passed them in the hallways. All of their expressions were grim, all of them knowing the same thing. Today would be Levi’s last. While nobody said anything to their leader, their hearts were heavy as they watched him leave. Despite what they did for a living, Levi was well known amongst his subordinates for caring for them in his own way, always protecting them the best he possibly could and offering council when necessary.

Levi could feel their eyes on him but he spared none of them a glance aside from the occasional nod or slight wave. He didn’t stop to talk to anyone, even Erwin, who he’d convinced to stay behind to protect the estate, just in case Zeke used this as an opportunity to take over the powerful crime syndicate. Levi was willing to give up his life to protect (Y/N), but that didn’t mean he was willing to wave a white flag either, refusing to bow to this cowardly piece of shit just because of his threats.

Levi pushed through the glossy wooden front doors and slipped into his car without looking back, only looking up to give his driver the address Zeke had given him after a brief interaction over the phone. The sleek black car pulled out of the drive and picked up speed after sliding through the large open gate, the passing trees flashing by in a blur. Levi looked out the window for a minute, his silver eyes taking in the beauty of nature for what he assumed to be the last time, the sun glinting through the leaves of the trees to dapple his lap with sunspots. He saw rolling hills and glittering streams and children playing in the park, their laughter echoing temporarily in his ears before the speed at which they were moving snatched the sound away. He saw a big dog chasing a ball and immediately thought of (Y/N), quickly swallowing the sudden lump that formed in his throat.

She had always wanted a dog. The two of them had lived together for long enough that they had started to talk about it, but Levi had always shied from the idea, not excited in the least about having a messy, loud animal in the house with them. (Y/N) had teased him but had never pushed the issue, aside from the one time she had offered to get him a cat if he got her a dog, shoving down her disappointment and respecting his wishes for cleanliness. Little did she know, despite his attitude, he had secretly been excited to share something like that with her, wanting nothing more than to see her beaming smile as they picked a furry friend to love together. He wished he had done something like that with her sooner. Now, she was going to be in that house all by herself, with nobody to keep her company or help her process her grief.

His heart tightened and he looked away from the window, his eyes trained on his lap as he focused on his breathing. He never expected to feel this way, like he was drowning. He never expected to fear his lover’s reaction to his death more than the death itself, although he surmised he shouldn’t have been surprised, he had always valued her welfare over his own.

“We will take good care of her, sir,” Mikasa said from behind the wheel, her eyes trained on the road as she continued to drive steadily to their destination, making Levi look up in surprise. Mikasa had always been a loyal member of his group, but he had continuously butted heads with his cousin over her obsessive compulsion to protect her boyfriend, Eren, another member of the syndicate. He had never expected her to care about (Y/N) or him, nor to even notice that (Y/N) was the origin of his turmoil.

His eyes lowered back down onto his lap and he swallowed hard. “Thank you.”

Mikasa shrugged in response but he could tell it wasn’t as nonchalant as she was trying to make it look, her shoulders tense and her hands gripping the steering wheel a bit harder than normal. Silence filled the car again as Levi went back to thinking about (Y/N), even pulling out his phone to look down at a beautiful picture of her, one where she was smiling at him while at the beach, wearing an adorable bikini and holding her sunhat to her head to keep the wind from blowing it off while the ocean waves crashed behind her. She looked so happy, her smile making his heart flutter and his stomach churn just as it always did when he saw her.

All too soon, Mikasa had pulled onto a cleverly hidden gravel drive and parked in front of an old abandoned warehouse. His heart was thundering in his ears as soon as the purring of the engine cut off. Levi took a deep breath and opened the car door, slipping out while Mikasa stared straight ahead, her breathing labored as she fought against the surprising appearance of tears springing to her eyes.

As soon as Levi shut the car door, Mikasa restarted the vehicle and put it into reverse, her eyes meeting Levi’s briefly as she crawled back onto the street before she sped away, Levi standing in the drive until the sound of his car had given way to silence. With Mikasa gone, Levi was able to release his shaky breath, his eyes scanning the beautiful forest he was standing in, the trees arching high and protecting the land below with thick canopies that blocked most of the harsh sunlight from the flourishing foliage, giving the forest floor a beautiful spotted look, the sun winking at him from the space between the leaves.

It was time. Taking in his surroundings one last time with an appreciative deep breath of the warm pine smell he and (Y/N) both loved, Levi headed into the warehouse.

“Good bye, (Y/N). I love you.”

_______________________________

Zeke was grinning so wide his cheeks ached as the door to the warehouse opened, revealing a very angry Levi Ackerman. The Torva Messor. The Grim Reaper. He had never expected in his entire life that he would be able to get rid of one of the most dangerous mafia bosses in the world so easily. It was almost laughable, how quickly Levi had submitted to Zeke after he had threatened his lover.

It had taken years to find Levi’s weak spot, the man always just out of reach and seemingly untouchable with no family or friends to speak of that weren’t already in his gang. Zeke and his men had spent countless hours searching for a crack in Levi’s impenetrable armor, some of them even leaving to find a new boss, claiming Zeke’s obsession with the raven-haired man was both unhealthy and futile.

But Zeke had never given up, always waiting patiently for the one day when he would find something, and everything would fall into place. He was determined, and had no doubt in his mind that a day such as this would come eventually. Despite the skeptical nature of his followers, he never lost that spark of hope that he knew would one day lead him to power unlike any other.

The day he had discovered (Y/N), he had thought he was dreaming. It couldn’t be that simple. A lover? Levi would never take one of those, always too busy and too cold-hearted to even think about love. He was a mafia boss for fucks sake, how the hell was he supposed to juggle a lover at the same time? But against all odds, Zeke found it to be true when he tracked her and found her with him, the two of them sharing loving embraces and playing off of each other smoothly. It was then that Zeke realized he had finally found his opening, the crack in Levi’s armor where he knew his arrow would strike home, and just as he had expected, the most feared man in the criminal underbelly had yielded immediately.

“Well, well, well,” Zeke cooed as he pushed away from the wall he’d been leaning against when Levi came in. “If it isn’t the man of the hour! Welcome, welcome, Levi!”

Levi gave a nearly inhuman growl in response and walked to the center of the warehouse before stopping, his eyes never leaving the bearded man in the room with him.

“Jesus, where did you learn your manners? Do you speak to (Y/N) that way, hmm?”

“Don’t say her name you filthy cock-sucking bastard,” Levi snarled.

“What are you going to do about it?” Zeke taunted, pulling a gun from his holster. “Shoot me? Call in your cronies and have me violently killed?”

Levi stayed silent, knowing that one wrong step could render this entire mission pointless. Unfortunately, (Y/N)’s life still rested securely in Zeke’s grasp. If he wished, he could send his men to find and kill her in the worst way possible. He might even be sadistic enough to force Levi to watch.

“That’s what I thought,” Zeke practically purred, coming right up to Levi and running the gun from the shorter man’s temple down to his side before moving in front of the shorter man and placing the muzzle of the gun directly over Levi’s heart.

Levi swallowed thickly once, the only sign that he was even remotely concerned, his eyes remaining clear and narrowed on Zeke’s gleeful face.

“Goodbye, Great Torva Messor, may your death bring about a better world.”

Levi closed his eyes and thought of (Y/N), her bright, happy face floating through his mind one last time before the sound of the gun going off blasted through the warehouse. It wasn’t what Levi was expecting, surprisingly painless as he felt himself falling backwards.

_______________________________

A scream had his eyes shooting open, his mind frazzled as he found himself on the floor but with no bullet wound. He pawed at his chest in confusion, almost as if the wound was hiding from him, the blood waiting to bloom under his shirt until he uncovered it. But he found nothing, his chest solid and whole, his heart hammering loudly in his chest.

He wasn’t dead.

Quickly looking around, Levi found Zeke on the ground facing him, his jaw slack and his eyes glazed in death, his hand still clutched around his own heart and covered in blood.

“What the fuck-”

A quiet groan made him look up, and his eyes widened at the figure crumpled to the floor, their hand clutching their side as blood seeped between their fingers, their hair curtaining her expression.

“(Y/N)!!! HOLY SHIT!!!” Levi didn’t hesitate to scramble to his feet and sprint over to her, his hands immediately reaching out to hold her to him, to assess her injuries, to do something, anything to help her.

“I’m fine, Levi, I’m fine, but we need to get out of here,” (Y/N) coughed, her eyes darting around the space nervously and her head tilting as if listening for something outside.

“(Y/N), you are not fine! You just got shot!”

“I know, but we need to leave right now. My car is out front, let’s go. Now.

Levi balked at her serious tone, his brow furrowing.

“(Y/N), what’re you…,”

His eyes widened even more as a gleam at her chest made him pause, his voice catching in his throat. It was a badge. A shiny gold police badge.

“(Y/N), what is this?” Levi asked, leaning down to brush the cool metal with his fingers. He noticed (Y/N) wince slightly but when he looked at her face, he saw the fire that was in her eyes, the hurt that swirled in them too. He had no right to question her right now, she had just gotten shot saving his ass after catching him working with the mafia, and here he was drilling her about a badge.

“It’s nothing,” (Y/N) snapped, making him flinch at her harsh tone. “But if we don’t move right now, things will get a lot worse. Please, drive us somewhere, anywhere, but make sure it's far away from here.”

Levi met her hard, determined gaze for a second before nodding, bending down to gently shuffle her into his arms. To his surprise, she pushed him away and stood on her own two feet, only leaning on him to use as leverage to make it to the car.

“Not my first time getting shot,” (Y/N) said in response to Levi’s questioning look.

“What!?”

“I’ll explain later,” (Y/N) mumbled, stumbling towards a glossy black car that wasn’t too different from own work car. He could tell it was meant for speed and agility with its aerodynamic form, something that surprised him since he had been expecting a bulky cop car. It was definitely not the car she normally drove, making him wonder how much of her life she had hidden from him in the way that he had from her.

Bundling her into the passenger seat, Levi tried not to panic at the sound of her pained groan as more blood gushed from her wound. He wanted to stay and bind it or stitch it, but a sharp look from (Y/N) had him hustling for the driver’s side door.

The car roared to life and Levi wasted no time in spinning the car around and speeding out onto the road, breaking several traffic laws in his haste to get back to his estate. As they sped through town, (Y/N) shouldered her jacket off and gripped the corner of it with her teeth, ripping at the fabric until she had several strips to bind her side with. Levi watched her out of the corner of his eye, making sure she didn’t faint from the blood loss as she worked. He was surprised by her skills, watching as she properly bound her wound with nothing more than a few breathless hisses and settled back into the seat, her palm pressed into her side.

Levi busied himself by calling Erwin to update him on the situation, ignoring his friend’s relieved surprise and demanding the first aid kit be delivered to his room before they arrived.

Levi nearly hit the gate in his panic, forcing himself to take a deep breath as the slow speed at which the gate opened made him want to tear his hair out. He was practically foaming at the mouth when a warm hand on his arm immediately demanded his attention, his gaze snapping to where she was watching him, her gaze unreadable. Her touch immediately calmed him, despite the turmoil in his gut at not being able to read her emotions. She always knew how to bring him back to himself, and even if she now hated him with every fiber of her being, it was still immediately effective. Something Levi was immensely grateful for as the gates finally opened wide enough to grant them entry.

His group members immediately swarmed him when the doors opened and the pair stumbled in, ready to assist, only to part like the Red Sea when they realized it was (Y/N) that was hurt rather than their leader, shock rippling through the small crowd. He barked orders and sent them running, quickly cutting past them and ignoring their questioning stares as he ushered (Y/N) up to his private quarters.

The two were both silent as Levi sat (Y/N) on his bed with a towel underneath, (her boyfriend’s clean freak tendencies making (Y/N) smile despite herself), and got to work studying her wound, the first aid kit open with a surprising amount of tools at their disposal. The room was thick with unresolved tension but neither of them seemed to be able to find the courage inside themselves to speak first, (Y/N) distracting herself by taking in the large room while Levi busied himself with cleaning her injuries.

It turned out to be Levi who spoke first, his hands running along her side in a soothing motion with every small wince she did, only for his fingers to pause when they reached the thick metal of the badge on her chest. Levi’s eyes flashed as he took it in, his fingers lifting it so he could look at it better in the light. It was a real badge alright, that was for sure, and Levi hated the fact that it sent cold shivers down his spine.

“So you’re a cop?” Levi asked softly, his voice barely over a whisper.

“A homicide detective, actually.”

Levi looked up and met (Y/N)’s hard gaze in shock. A homicide detective? How the hell could he have missed that? How did he not know about this? He thought she was the assistant manager for a firm, working with trade deals and profits. Since when did she deal with murders and killers?

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Levi asked as he went back to fixing her wound, his fingers gently prodding at the sensitive flesh around where the bullet went through.

“I didn’t tell you partly because my boss told me not to. She told me that she wanted as few people to know about this case as possible since it’s impossible to find all of the mafia members and nobody can be trusted. But it was mostly to protect you. I’ve been doing this job for a long time, and it wouldn’t be the first time if someone I was chasing down threatened the people I care about to get me off their tail. I couldn’t bear the thought of that happening to you, of you getting hurt on my behalf, so I didn’t tell you, to keep you safe.”

Levi’s breath caught in his throat at her words, his heart pounding against his ribcage. He was warmed by her words, the love and consideration she held for him, but her sentiment also fanned his anger, upset at the burden she had placed on herself.

“Idiot, you should’ve told me! You didn’t have to put all of that stress on yourself, I could’ve handled a few measly threats.”

“Oh like how you told me all about you working for the mafia? Being a mob boss?” (Y/N) said, making Levi flinch at the venom in her tone. “Do you think I liked lying to you, Levi? Do you think I enjoyed having to erase my browser history and create false reports for a fake company to keep you from finding out I was researching the recent murders that have been happening all over the city? I hated it. I fucking hated it, but I did it to keep you safe and to keep my job so I could continue to help support the two of us.”

Levi was silent, hanging his head in shame as her words washed over him. She was right. She had every right to be angry at him, but he couldn’t help but feel as if he were being stabbed with every harsh word that came out of her mouth.

“I wanted to tell you. So many times I wanted to tell you why I couldn’t come to bed with you, or why I had to skip breakfast, or why I had to lock my office door everyday for work. It killed me to lie to you because I knew I could trust you. It made me want to vomit because you had done nothing wrong and you deserved to know about what I was really doing for a living, but I held my tongue because I knew it was for the best.

And besides, my boss’s reasoning made sense. I mean, it’s obvious that the more people who know about something, the harder it is to keep it a secret. Who knows? Maybe you had friends in the mafia who could find information through you. Maybe you had a boss who was involved with the murders and would use your connection to me to keep from being behind bars. I thought it was ridiculous, but I did it because I trusted my boss too.”

(Y/N) choked out a small sob, her lip trembling as she spoke the next words. “But now I know that not only was my boss right, but if I had told you, it would have ruined our entire investigation. Why? Because you’re a fucking mafia boss, that’s why.”

“(Y/N)..., I-”

“Are you the one I’ve been hunting? The one who’s been instigating the recent murders all over the city?”

Levi froze.

“Are you the one who put bullet holes in the bodies of the people I went to see? Are you the one who created crime scenes I had to analyze? Have you been behind everything this entire time!?”

Levi couldn’t breathe. At first, discovering she was a homicide detective had made him worried for her physical health, the fact that she had been shot before making him feel light headed. But now he realized, as she asked him these questions, that he hadn’t even taken into account her mental health. It was clear she had seen a lot in her life, especially since she had told him earlier that she had been doing this job for a long time. But the images of what he often did to his victims floated through his mind. The way he was sometimes ordered to torture them in horrible ways until they finally collapsed into death from pain and exhaustion.

Horror filled him then at the thought of (Y/N) seeing that. Of seeing what he had done. Levi always knew he was a monster, a demon straight from hell, his name, The Grim Reaper, a testament to that. But he had always felt better knowing that (Y/N) would never know that side of him.

(Y/N) noted his labored breathing, his lack of response, the horror that flashed in his silver eyes even though his head was still hung, his bangs covering his face. It told her everything she needed to know. She felt her chest tighten, her heart constrict painfully as tears leaked from her eyes.

“Levi…, why? Why did you do this? I spent all of this time, trying to find this psychopath, who tortured and murdered people. To give justice to the people who could no longer obtain it themselves, only to find it’s my own boyfriend!? How could you do this? To them? To me?”

Levi shuddered with a shaky sigh as his own tears slipped down his cheeks. He finally lifted his head to meet (Y/N)’s gaze, and had to force himself to hold it when the hurt look in her eyes made him want to vomit.

“(Y/N), I’m so so sorry, I didn’t…,” Levi swallowed hard. “I didn’t want to lie to you either. I wanted to tell you, I wanted so badly to let you in on what was going on, but I couldn’t bear the thought of you getting caught up in my mess. I didn’t want anyone from my side to see me with you, to have any idea about your existence because I knew that someone would try to target you to get to me. I was so worried about you getting hurt, or worse, killed, because of me. So I didn’t tell you because no matter how much it hurt me, no matter how much I ached to tell you, I had to keep you safe. It’s my responsibility to protect you, and even if that meant lying to you about who I am, then that was what I was going to do. That’s what I did do, to keep you safe.”

(Y/N) was silent in response and while it worried Levi, he was at least grateful she wasn’t trying to kill him. She had left the gun she had used to kill Zeke back at the warehouse, but that didn’t mean she didn’t possibly have other weapons she could use against him. It wasn’t until Levi’s shaky hands managed to gain the courage to begin redressing (Y/N)’s injury that he found the strength to speak again, wanting nothing more than for this deafening silence to go away.

“Thank you, by the way…, you saved my life back there.”

“Well, I couldn’t just let him kill you, could I? No matter how angry I am at you, I will never let that happen, not if I can help it.”

“How did you find me?” Levi asked, his brow furrowing as he gently began to stitch his girlfriend up again. To his surprise, she did nothing more than squeak slightly at the sting of the needle.

“Like I said, I was investigating the recent murders, and since I was leading this case, I had free rein to do a lot of extensive research on my own without having to consult with anyone other than sending in reports for my boss. My findings led me to Zeke Yeager, and he became my number one suspect. I started following him, keeping track of his movements, noting down the addresses of places he frequented. Unfortunately, he’s a sly bastard, and covered his tracks pretty well, so I didn’t have much proof that pointed to him being connected to the murders other than he was a mobster with a vast history of violence.

Desperate for more proof, convinced that my gut feeling was right, I never stopped watching him. So when word that he was planning to execute a meeting between a long standing rival of his at an old warehouse reached me from one of my partners, I sped over there as fast as possible.”

“You didn’t know I was there?” Levi asked.

“No,” (Y/N) said. “I found you there, waiting for him to shoot you when I walked in. At first, I thought he’d found out about me tracking him, and the whole thing was just a set up to get me to show myself. I thought he’d kidnapped you to get to me, my worst fear.”

Levi finished putting in the last stitch, the bloody bullet resting on the towel beneath (Y/N), and met his girlfriend’s gaze, the tears in her eyes making his own start to water.

“But then I noticed how you were standing, and the expression on your face. You weren’t scared or confused. You were furious, but… confident. Livid, but accepting. I knew in that moment that Zeke didn’t know about me at all, but he knew you, and you knew him. It took me a little while to figure out, but when he started gloating about how he was going to be the one to bring down the famous Grim Reaper, I realized who you were. What you were.”

“(Y/N)-”

“He was going to kill you,” (Y/N) said, her hair curtaining her expression as she broke from his gaze to look down at her lap, her teardrops landing with soft taps on her crossed legs. “And you were going to let him.”

(Y/N)’s body started to shake but she fought to keep her voice firm. She had to get through this. They had to get through this… together. If she couldn’t handle this, then there was no way she would be able to be around him ever again.

“But I couldn’t let him. I saw him press that gun against your chest and I exploded. I couldn’t control myself, it was like I was possessed by a wild animal,” (Y/N) looked up at Levi again, her eyes swirling with so many emotions he couldn’t read them all.

“Levi, I’ve been doing this job for many years. I’ve seen some of the most horrific murders on the planet, met the worst scum in the world, talked with a perfectly sane man who killed his entire family one day for seemingly no reason. But never in my life have I ever felt the want…, the need to kill someone. I’ve only ever pulled out my gun three times with the intention of actually using it,” (Y/N) raised her hands to gently cup his face, her eyes locked on his.

“But in that moment, when I heard him telling you that your death would make the world a better place, when I saw him put his finger on the trigger, I had the overwhelming desire to tear him limb from limb. I acted before I could even process the situation, and I killed a man without a second thought.”

“(Y/N)...,” Levi cooed softly. “It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault. You acted without thinking because it’s in your nature to protect people. I’ve seen the way you care for others. Even when they are complete strangers, you are always thinking about how you can be there for them. What you did, protecting me, is the very essence of you, and that does not make you a monster.”

“But it is my fault, Levi,” (Y/N) said. “I killed a man. I’m a homicide detective, I’m supposed to solve murders not cause them. I’m glad I saved you, more than anything, but this is something I’m going to have to deal with and live with for the rest of my life.”

The pair were silent again, the air heavy with the weight of (Y/N)’s words.

“I was doing it for you, you know,” Levi said after another moment.

“What?”

“At the warehouse. I was there because while Zeke may not have known you were keeping an eye on him, he did know that you were connected to me. I don’t know how he found out about our relationship, but he did, and had the photos of us to prove it. He threatened you, told me that if I didn’t give myself up, that he’d do the worst of the worst to you. He threatened your friend Emily too. Erwin is a part of the Wings of Freedom with me.”

“The Wings of Freedom?” (Y/N) asked, ignoring the sinking feeling in her stomach at the thought of her best friend being hurt.

“That’s what we call ourselves. Zeke’s people are called the Beast Titans, a rival group. They’ve been a thorn in my side for years, competing with us for territory and power in the most violent ways possible. Zeke especially was always known for his complete lack of humanity, and he’d been obsessed with catching and killing me ever since we first met. When he found out about you, found out that I love you, he immediately set his sights on you and used you to corner me.”

(Y/N) sucked in a breath, somehow producing more tears to slide down her cheeks as Levi spoke.

“You’re right. When I went to that warehouse, I knew I was going to die and was prepared to do so. I didn’t want to obviously, but as long as your life was held in his hands, I knew I was going to yield to him no matter what he asked of me. I did it to protect you, to keep you alive, even if it meant never getting to see you ever again.”

Levi heard her voice catch and closed his eyes, waiting for her to react. While he wanted more than anything for her to forgive him and allow him to hold her close, he knew there was a very high possibility of her rejecting him. He had done all of it for her, but that didn’t erase his history, or his job, or the lies he spun to keep her in the dark. He knew it would kill him if she walked away from him and never looked back, but he would find a way to live with it, loving her from afar if that’s what she wanted from him. It was her choice. He would be strong for her.

What he didn’t expect was to be tackled to the floor. Levi let out a surprised grunt as he was thrown backwards, landing on his back with (Y/N) clutching him from above, sobbing into his shoulder. His arms immediately wrapped protectively around her and held her to his chest, breathing in her calming, unique scent.

“(Y/N)?”

“You idiot, you absolute fucking idiot,” (Y/N) lifted her head to look at him with puffy eyes and flushed cheeks. “Never fucking do that ever again. I know you did it to protect me, but I wouldn’t have been able to live without you, Levi. If you die, even for my sake, especially for my sake, I will kill you.”

Levi chuckled shakily and buried his face in her hair, his own tears soaking into the soft strands as he held her.

“Levi, what’re we going to do now?”

“What do you mean?”

She looked at him incredulously. “Are you serious? I love you, but I’m still a detective, and I killed a man. I can’t exactly go back without a proper explanation about what happened, and why I’ve been MIA for the past several hours. And I’d prefer it if the explanation I gave didn’t result in you getting arrested or killed.”

“I think I’d prefer that too,” Levi teased with a small smirk, earning him a slap on his chest.

“I’m serious, Levi.”

“I am too,” Levi said, sitting up so that (Y/N) was seated on his lap, his hands gripping her waist gingerly to account for her recent injury. (Y/N) watched him closely as he leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers, sighing happily against her.

“Listen, (Y/N), I know this will take a long time to get over. I know we will both struggle with this for a while and I am going to work my ass off to have you forgive me, but I want you to know that I love you and no matter what happens, we will do this together, alright?”

(Y/N)’s eyes sparkled warmly. She was still upset at him, her emotions roiling in her gut like a brewing tornado, but she managed to shove them all to the side, leaving her love clear to shine brightly for him in the wake of what just happened. There were a lot of things to figure out, and she still had no idea where they stood in terms of their relationship when they were trained to hate and hunt each other. But just as he said, they were going to get through this together.

“Okay, Levi..., I love you.”

“I love you too, (Y/N). Let’s get some sleep.”

Despite everything, the killing of a man, the discovery of her boyfriend’s secret identity, the inner turmoil inside her as the mind of a detective fought with her heart over her love for a mob boss, (Y/N) felt everything melt away the moment she was curled up with Levi in his huge bed. She nuzzled into his chest as she was lulled to sleep by the strong beat of his heart, shouting out his love for only her to hear.

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hanniiesuckle17 · 4 years

Text

Stray Kids Reaction: S/o Falls Back Into Old Habits

A/n: so this is a more serious request! if any of my readers feel like they need to talk to someone (whether about this or not) my messages are always open to anyone and everyone. Also this did get a little personal for me, (Jisung’s is based on my personal experience)

Requested by: Anonymous

Warnings: (TRIGGER WARNING)Mentions of eating disorders, cursing

Tag List: @distrikt9 @mini-meanhoe @poeticallyspaghetti @hanstagrams @desertofdessert @yangomangos

Bangchan:

You had a history of not making the healthiest choices when it came to weight loss. It was a secret you kept to yourself. A secret you thought you wouldn’t have to deal with again. But, life sometimes throws stuff at you, and you can't help but fall back into old habits.

You knew Chan adored you. That didn’t mean hate comments got any easier to read. It was almost impossible to avoid them. Chan was always in the public eye, so it wasn’t long before your relationship was outed. At first, it was fine. Most of the Stray Kids fans accepted you; they wanted Chan happy.

Eventually, after all the commotion died down, anti-fans started to surface. They had found old pictures of you from high school and posted them with cruel comments. It was difficult with Chan away from home so much. You felt like you were alone, with no one to help guide you away from the dark places the comments were leading you towards.

The old pictures resurfacing reminded you of how you used to look when you were younger. It was easy to see the change in your body weight. You had started working through lunch. It was a simple excuse. It wasn’t a lie that your workload had doubled over the past week, though Chan was upset you skipped a meal, he understood.

But your old mentality started to creep back in. The next meal to go was breakfast. Chan was usually gone before you got up so he didn’t notice. What he did notice was you slowly losing your appetite at dinner. At first, he thought you were just a little sick. He made sure to stock up on medicine next time he picked up groceries. However, in your mind, you still weren’t losing the weight you wanted fast enough. Knowing Chan would freak if you stopped eating dinner you decided to hide a bottle of diet pills behind a couple shoeboxes at the top of your closet.

“Hey, Y/n? You wanna order a pizza?” Chan called from your bedroom. A pizza sounded divine. The sound of your stomach rumbling made you feel guilty. There was no way you would ruin this streak just for a pizza.

“Umm...you can! I ate a little earlier.” You called back. There was a moment of silence. You figured he was just picking up some dirty laundry or something.

“Baby, when did you eat? You didn’t have lunch with me and-”

Chan’s voice stopped all of a sudden. “I didn’t what?” You asked flipping through your phone. You frowned yet again coming across some hate comments. Sighing you tossed your phone onto the other side of the couch. “Babe?” You called still not hearing back from your boyfriend. Looking up you found Chan standing in the hallway holding a familiar white bottle in his hands.

“What the hell is this?”

Chan was angry. He was more than angry. He was pissed. He looked hurt when he tossed the bottle to you. “They are just diet pills, Chan.” His teeth dragged across his lip and his hands came to rest on his hips.

“No. Only half the bottle is left! Y/n this is dangerous. I know you’ve been skipping meals!” You flinched as Chan raised his voice. He noticed and came over to you. His hands wrapped around yours, shaking a little bit. “Y/n....I’m scared for you....I’ve been scared for you. You won’t talk to me. I know about the hate and the meals, but this? Baby. You’ve gotta talk to me.”

You looked at your boyfriend crouched in front of you, holding back tears. “Chan...it was just hard not to go back to bad habits. I’m so sorry.” Tears fell from his eyes hearing you speak. He dropped his head into your lap, still holding your hands tightly. He looked up, eyes puffy and red. His lips pressed against the back of my hand.

“I’m with you, yeah? I love you. I’m not going to let you do this alone.”

Minho:

Being a model was one of the best jobs you had ever had. It wasn’t as easy as everyone thought. You had great expectations put on you. At any given moment your agency could call you and say that you needed to drop fifteen pounds and chop off half your hair and you would have to do it to keep your contract.

Minho was used to your crazy weight-loss diets and coming home to you running on the treadmill with six coats on. He trusted you to be safe with whatever you were doing. He always checked in on you, even when he was away on tour.

Little texts making sure you were alright. Facetimes before he went to sleep. But, it was better having Mino home with you. Thankfully he would be home for the next six months.

The blare of your ringtone woke you up from a deep sleep. Minho was still sound asleep next to you and two of the cats were snuggled up at the foot of the bed. Seeing the agency as the caller id, you picked it up. They gave you the requirements for the job as well as the deadline. “Next week!” You exclaimed trying to keep Minho from waking up.

After a few more exchanged words you hung up the phone and lay in bed. “Twenty pounds?” You whispered to yourself. There was absolutely no way you could do this in time without not being healthy. But, the pay day was huge. There was no way you could pass up this gig if you wanted to make rent this month. The only problem would be Minho. He would totally scream at you if he found out you weren’t being healthy losing the weight.

Hell, the weight they wanted you to be wasn’t exactly healthy either. Your boyfriend stirred next to you, wrapping an arm around your middle. The next week you did everything possible to lose the weight. You skipped meals and you practically lived at the gym.

“Babe, have you eaten yet?” Minho said over the phone. He spoke to you on speakerphone as you ran with a hoodie on the treadmill in your apartment. You were three days away from your deadline with still five pounds left to lose.

“Yeah,” You said out of breath. Lie. “I ate a big salad a couple hours ago.” Another lie. You hadn’t eaten anything in the last seventy-four hours. He sighed over the phone. “What’s wrong, Minho?”

“Y/n we ran out of lettuce like two days ago, babe.”

Letting out a nervous laugh, you turned off the treadmill. “Minho.... I-uh...I ordered one-” You heard the line click. He hung up. “Oh fuck.” You said head in your hands. You shed the jacket and raced to your closet. You grabbed one of Minho’s big sweaters and threw it over your head. About ten minutes later the front door opened, Minho storming in throwing his stuff on the counter. “Hey! Did management let you off early-”

Without a word, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you out of the apartment. The next thing you knew you were walking up the stairs of your agency. The two of you blew past your boss’s secretary. “What the fuck, man!?” Minho screamed bursting into my boss’s office. “Do realize you are driving my girlfriend slowly off a cliff? She could kill herself just trying to meet your expectations! LITERALLY.”

Your boss was completely shocked. He was at a loss for words. “This is not on Y/n. This is on you for making her feel like she ever had to feel like she had to use such drastic measure simply to please your patriarchal sexist ass.” You felt like crying seeing Minho defend you. It was true. It was your choice to skip meals, but mostly out of fear of the termination of your contract.

“Sir-”

“No. I don’t think you know who I am. One word from me to the press could ruin you in this industry for the rest of your life.” Your boss stayed silent. Clearly fearing for his reputation. “Now, you are going to let Y/n end her contract, with full compensation, on the grounds of employee abuse.” Minho narrowed his eyes, completely furious. “Got it?”

He nodded and Minho took your hand in his and led you out of the office. “Thank you, Min.” You whispered, kissing his shoulder.

“You’ve got to tell me, babe. I’m not gonna stand by while you are forcing yourself through this.”

Changbin:

Changbin wasn’t the most observant man on the planet. But, it was very hard to slip anything past him when it came to you. His job was demanding and took up far more of his time than either of you would like, but the man was clingy even from a distance.

You just dropped him off at the airport not four hours ago and he was already facetiming you. With Changbin gone, your apartment felt empty. The days seemed to blur together. Days flooded into nights and nights blended into early mornings. You were sad and missed him a lot. So you did the best thing you could think of to distract yourself was throw yourself into your work.

The tour was nowhere near its end and you were bringing more and more work home. You got into the bad habit of skipping meals and you barely ate anything for dinner, choosing instead to work. Most nights you fell asleep at your desk, having not eaten anything all day.

Changbin would call at all hours of the night, so caught up in tour life he had forgotten that it was three am where you were. You didn’t mind, however, the calls always ended with you missing him even more. If things were really bad you would go down to the bakery and eat an entire cake by yourself only to refuse food for the rest of the week.

“I’m so lonely here without you,” You said to the glow of your laptop screen. Changbin’s face filled the screen. He was barefaced and had a hoodie covering his messy hair. Seeing your boyfriend even just through a facetime call was a godsend. “It’s been really hard keeping it together. When are you coming home?”

He sighed. Clearly, he wasn’t handling the distance well either. “Four days.” Your head dropped into your hands. Four days. You could handle four more days. The question was could your body handle four more days? “Sweetie, you don’t look too good. Are you sure you are taking care of yourself?” Changbin looked seriously worried.

The internal struggle of whether to tell him or not was evident.

“Y/n, you can tell me anything. I’m worried about you.”

Your fingers raked through your hair. Changbin let out an anxious sigh. He knew silence from you was a bad sign. “I haven’t exactly been eating well lately.” His face grew somber.

“How not exactly?”

“Like....at all.”

“Y/n!” Changbin exclaimed. You were sure that he had woken up whatever boy he was sharing a room with. He broke seeing the shame on your face. How he had not noticed sooner was shameful to him. Your face was starting to sink in and dark circles lay under your eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to bring up past problems I had and worry you with them. They are mine to deal with.”

Changbin shook his head. “I want to share your problems, sweetie. Your problems are mine and I’m glad to take them.” He paused simply looking at you with care. “Do you want me to come home? I’ll be on the first flight out?”

“I can’t make you do that. The boys and STAY need you.”

“You need me more right now.”

Hyunjin:

Your mother was lapping you. She was getting married twice. You weren’t even married once! It didn’t help at all that your mother was one of the most judgemental living on the planet. All her friends were a close second. She had been hounding you for years to get a boyfriend. She was always nagging on you to settle down and give her grandchildren.

Hyunjin coming into your life was the best thing that had ever happened to you. He made you feel fully yourself and even helped you out of some really bad habits that your mother had gotten you into. Hyunjin slowly helped you rebuild your self-esteem and you loved him more every day for it.

“Y/n, last time I saw you it looked like you had been putting on quite a bit of weight. I’ve already sent you the dress I want you wearing and you need to fit in it by the wedding. Am I clear?” The shrill voice of your mother filled the room. Why did you put her on speakerphone again? You looked at the lilac colored dress you were holding in the mirror. “Y/n?”

“Yes, mother. I understand.” There was no way you were fitting into this. She sent it to you this morning and the wedding was nine days away. It wasn’t surprising she pulled something like this. She always had impossible standards to hold you too. Having enough of your mother, you hung up the phone.

With a sigh, you grabbed the dress and tried to put it on. It was by far the most unflattering garment you had ever worn. You couldn’t close the zipper and it emphasized all the wrong places on your body. You could barely breathe in the tight fabric. Wiping stressed tears from your face, you shedded the frock. The choice of never giving down your mother's complaints or simply wearing a different dress were pounding against your skull.

If only Hyunjin wasn’t still on a dating ban. Then you could tell your mother how happy you were with him and she would stop hounding about your weight and appearance. But, that wasn’t the case. Only eight more months. Eight more months and you could shout about Hyunjin from the rooftops without a care. Until then, you had to lose a lot of weight as soon as possible.

As much as it hurt you to go behind Hyunjin’s back, you returned to your old habits, skipping most of your meals. It was easy to hide at first. Hyunjin would come home late from practice, so he didn’t find it unusual for you to have ‘eaten’ before him.

However, what wasn’t normal, was you getting dizzy spells. But you were so close to fitting in that dress you couldn't stop. Hyunjin was lounging on the couch, flipping through random channels. The edge of your vision started to blur out, making you clutch the counter for balance. Taking some deep breaths you focused on centering yourself. “Baby, you okay?” Hyunjin said, his voice laced with concern. He was already making his way over to you, hand finding the small of your back.

You pushed away from the counter to respond to your boyfriend, but your knees buckled under you. Hyunjin caught you, pulling you into his chest. “Oh shit- Y/n, baby. Look at me. How many fingers am I holding up?” Hyunjin held up three long fingers that looked more like five or six. You groaned, leaning into him.

Hyunjin, slightly panicking, pulled you over to the couch and laid you down. You watched him pick up his phone ready to dial emergency services. “Jinnie! No! Don’t. Really, I’m fine. It was just a dizzy spell.” He narrowed his eyes at you.

“You haven't had a dizzy spell since-” His words caught in his throat and he turned to you in shock. “Y/n...when was the last time you ate.” Your hands covered your face, rubbing your temples.

“I had a ramen cup. Don’t worry.”

Hyunjin involuntarily rolled his eyes letting out a frustrated huff. “I didn’t say what. I said ‘when’. ‘When’, Y/n!” He sighed seeing you struggle to think back on the past few days.

“I think....like two and a half days ago?” Hyunjin sighed, picking up his phone again. He walked into another room and returned about ten minutes later. You watched him walk to the kitchen and grab a Gatorade from the fridge. He placed it in front of you just as the doorbell rang. He ran a hand through his blonde hair as he took a huge bag from a man at the door.

“Eat. Drink.” He said placing the bag of takeout in front of you. He unwrapped the food and twisted the cap off the drink, placing it in your hand and lap. He had a worried look on his face as he watched you begin to eat. “I called your mom.”

You immediately started choking on the food, giving Hyunjin yet another panic attack. “You WHAT?”

“I told her about us. I know the wedding and all her expectation is what is causing you stress. I told her to add me to the guest list and that you’re showing up in whatever you want to wear and that she better not say one word about it or else she’ll hear some choice words from me.”

Your eyes softened and you wrapped your arms around his neck. He nuzzled his face in your hair letting out a staggered sigh. “Anytime you feel like that, you’ve got to come tell me. I hurt when you hurt. I hurt even more when you try to keep me from helping you.”

Jisung:

Your stomach growled. In the past three days, you had eaten nothing but a couple crackers and a few pieces of cheese. College had been really rough on you lately. Classes were tough and you had resorted to stress eating while Jisung was away and working. It was even worse when he went off on tour.

Without him around your self-esteem was at an all time low. In your mind, it was only a matter of time before Jisung came back with a girl who was much prettier, much skinnier, and just....better...than you. It wasn’t easy to tell Jisung this. You had never really been great at talking about your feelings.

The sound of your cell phone buzzed against the kitchen counter. It was almost midnight so only one person could be texting you. Your hands swiped through the notifications until you could read the message. Jisung.

Hey bb! <3 Gonna be home late. So sorry :( don't wait up for me

You sighed and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. Your boyfriend was right, as much as you hated to admit it. There was no point in waiting up for him. The edge of your vision started to blur out so you shook your head and blinked a few times. “A hot shower would probably do me some good.” You said to the empty apartment.

Tossing your clothes in the hamper, you walked in your underwear into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Suddenly you felt dizzy, heat flooding the small room, fogging up the mirror. Your head started to spin. The orientation of the room seemed to flip upside down. You grabbed at anything knowing you were going to fall any second. The shower curtain came down with you, your head banging against the shower wall and then against the bathtub.

Black clouded your vision as hot water pelted down on you from the showerhead.

Jisung turned the lock of your shared apartment at about two in the morning. The first thing he noticed was the lights in the kitchen and bedroom were still on. He tossed his bag on the counter and set his phone down beside it. “Baby? You still up?” He called into the apartment. “Y/n?” He asked hearing the shower running.

He gently wrapped his knuckles on the door. After a few minutes of not hearing a reply, he started to get a little worried. “Y/n? Babe.” Slowly he pushed open the door and peeked his head into the bathroom. His eyes widened seeing you passed out shower curtain falling on top of you. “OH SHIT!”

Jisung burst into the bathroom and threw the shower curtain away from your unconscious body. He shut off the water and cradled your head away from the shower wall. As gently as he could he picked you up and set you on the bed the both of you shared. “Fuck. My phone. Where’s my phone?” Jisung scrambled, running out of the bedroom. He was frantic.

“911. What is your emergency?” The calm voice of the operator spoke to him.

“My girlfriend. She uh--....fuck. She fell in the shower. I don’t know. I just came home. I think she hit her head.” Jisung ran a stressed hand through his hair, his feet carrying him back to the bedroom. He nodded at the operator's instructions and kept them on the phone as he grabbed one of his shirts from your closet to cover you up.

The paramedics arrived and loaded you up in an ambulance. Your heavy eyes opened slowly and you looked around the back of the emergency vehicle. It hurt to turn your head, which was still making you feel dizzy. Jisung sat beside you, holding your hand tightly, head down, and tears falling down his cheeks. “Jisung...” You croaked out.

His head shot up and he didn’t even bother trying to hide his tears. “Baby! Oh, thank god! Y/n you scared me half to death! What the hell happened?” He held your hand tightly, kissing along your knuckles.

“I’m so sorry, Ji....I only meant to skip a couple meals. I thought...I thought I had it under control.” You continued to ramble trying to make sure the words were coming out the way you wanted. Jisung looked heartbroken next to you.

“Y/n....you can’t...fuck...I love you so much. You’ve gotta tell me this stuff, okay?” He said choking up. You had never seen him so upset, so broken. “I can’t lose you. You’re perfect to me always.” You nodded, tears falling down your own cheeks.

“I’m so sorry-...I’m so sorry. I should have told you...”

Felix:

After being a trainee since you were fourteen, you had picked up an unhealthy mindset about your body image. The weekly weigh-ins your company put you through always had you watching your weight down to the ounce. There had been several incidents regarding your health and some unhealthy weight choices, thankfully they hadn’t been leaked to the press and your company covered it up. Felix had been your friend since you debuted and you had been dating for almost a year and a half. The two of you kept it a secret since both of you were still under a dating ban. Felix was always there for you when you needed him. Even if that meant him coming to find you in a broom closet because you were having a rough time and needed a hug.

Comeback season was always a rough time for the both of you. His group was busy, your group was busy. There was hardly any time to see each other. Promotions were even worse, especially for you. You felt like you had to constantly watch what you were eating since there were cameras all around you. You limited you food intake to one small meal a day, choosing to drink lots of weight loss shakes and water instead. Your secret diet plan had been working for years. You hadn’t had an incident since debut.

Your stomach growled as you looked in the mirror. “Y/n, did you eat?” Your leader asked brushing extra blush across her cheeks. You shook your head, knowing your voice would waver if you tried to lie.

“I’ll get something after the performance.”

The sound of other performances were playing on the music shows backstage TV. The skirt you were wearing was squeezing your stomach the fabric unbearably tight. “Girls, you’re up next! Stray Kids is after you. Backstage in two.” A stagehand said popping into the room then quickly exited. The members of your group started filing out of the room, heading backstage.

Stray Kids were waiting backstage already. You waved at Felix in the dark as you all came to stand next to them. You felt yourself get hot all of sudden and the room was beginning to tilt. The heels you were wearing made it a little more difficult for you to catch your balance.

You felt a hand on your back, steadying you. Felix appeared behind you, a concerned expression on his handsome face. “You okay, darling?” You nodded and brushed a bead of sweat from your forehead.

“Yeah. Just got a little dizzy for a second.”

Felix still looked concerned but gave you a quick kiss on the cheek after making sure no one was looking. “I’ll see you after your performance, darling.” He whispered in your ear before sending you onstage. Your group got in position and started performing your new song. Your head was spinning and you felt like you were going to pass out under the white hot stage lights.

The lyrics to your part of the song came out breathy as you danced in the center. It was evident you weren’t giving your one hundred percent, but you smiled through the pain you were feeling. You let your face fall as you transitioned to the back. If you could just hold on until the song was over.

In the middle of the dance break, your body couldn’t take it anymore. Your eyes rolled back in your head and you crumpled onto the floor, your body had been running on zero fuel for too long and gave out. The gasps of the audience stopped the performance and your group members froze in place. You felt someone run next to you and turn you over. You dazed eyes looked up to see Felix, fear plastered all over his face.

“We need to get her to the hospital.” Your leader said ushering the two of you off stage. Felix carried you in his arms until you were resting on the hospital bed, still in your stage clothes. Felix and your leader sat in the room with you while the doctors ran several tests. They hooked an IV up to your arm and waited for the doctor to return.

“So, who are you again?” The doctor asked pointing to Felix and your leader. She introduced herself, but before she could say anything else Felix interrupted her.

“I’m Felix, Y/n’s boyfriend. What going on, doctor?” She turned to you with wide eyes pointing at Felix. You motioned to her and an unspoken promise was made that you would talk about it later. She gave you a stern motherly look before turning back to what the doctor was saying.

“Well. She is severely malnourished. Her blood sugar and iron are dangerously low.” Felix put his head in his hands, clearly upset. “I’m seeing in her records this has occurred before?” Felix nodded reached for your hand. “Well, I want her to stay here until the IV is drained and someone should make sure she is eating and resting well.” The doctor wrote out a copy of meds and instructions for both Felix and your leader.

You watched Felix listen intensely on everything the doctor said about your health, taking notes of his own. Eventually, the doctor and your leader left the room. “Darling...I should have figured it out when you said you were dizzy. I’m so sorry. I should have- Fuck, I saw the sign and I didn’t do anything.” He rested his head in his hands clearly upset. You pulled him over to you and wrapped your arms around him.

“Thank you, for being here for me. That’s all I need.” You kissed the top of his head and buried your face in his neck.

Seungmin:

You could tell Seungmin anything. You had been best friends before you started dating and were basically inseparable. There was only one thing Seungmin didn’t know about you, your history with not so healthy weight loss methods. In highschool like most students, your self esteem was a soul sucking bottomless pit.

Every insecurity was brought to light by your cruel peers. Feeling broken you sought comfort looking magazines filled with beautiful women. Beautiful skinny women. Your desire to be like them grew stronger as you grew older. At first, you only skipped meals when extra work needed to be done. To you, there was no bad consequence at the time. Not only would you lose a little weight but you would get more accomplished.

Then skipping meals became a regular thing. You would usually get dinner with Seungmin most nights but still ate light. Seungmin paid no mind to it, assuming you were eating healthy during the day.

After a few months, he noticed you were extremely thin to an unhealthy degree. Seungmin was hesitant to ask you about it at first. You were an adult and could take care of yourself. He also didn’t want to come off as clingy and intrusive, but he was really worried about you to the point where he would lose sleep wondering if you had actually eaten that day and lied to him over a phone call.

Soon, he had enough. “Y/n, be honest with me.” He exclaimed one day while he was over at your apartment. You stopped mid-sip of water and turned to your boyfriend. “You’re skipping meals aren’t you?”

Silence filled the apartment. Every sound seemed to have been amplified. The dripping water of the bathroom faucet, the clock in the kitchen, the fabric of Seungmin’s sweater brushing against the couch. He watched you with determined eyes.

“Are you mad at me?” You asked hesitantly. He let out a heavy sigh taking your hands in his. He looked hurt.

Your boyfriend looked back up at you. He seemed to be studying every detail of your face. The bags under your eyes. The way your cheeks had begun to sink in. “I’m not mad.” He whispered. Seungmin took his time choosing his next words with care. “I’m worried, Y/n. Look at you. You are clearly not healthy. This has gotten out of hand.”

You felt exposed. Raw. Vulnerable. You felt small. Seungmin was right. What you were doing wasn’t healthy. It wasn’t safe, but you couldn’t just stop. It had gotten to the point that you barely had an appetite during normal meal times.

“Min...I can’t just stop. I’m really messed up aren’t I?”

Seungmin pulled you into his chest, resting his head on yours. “No more than anyone else.” He whispered. It felt like a weight lifted off your shoulders knowing that Seungmin knew your secret. You didn’t feel alone anymore. “We can get you the help you need. All I want is for you to be healthy and happy.”

There were a million things you wanted to say to him, but actions seemed to work better. You nodded against his chest, letting your arms fall from around his neck to rest gently over his heart. “I should have told you sooner.” You said softly, listening to his heartbeat.

His fingers softly ran through your hair. “What matters is you told me. I’m not going to let you go through this alone anymore. I’m always here for you, Y/n.”

Jeongin:

You had recently got a new roommate. A roommate who looked like she walked straight out of a Victoria’s Secret magazine. It didn’t help that she often walked around in her body hugging workout gear. You felt pudgy next to her. She was of course the nicest person on the planet which didn’t make your jealousy decrease any more than it should. In reality, it only grew more.

You wanted what she had. At first, you just started with a diet and exercise. Jeongin was happy to work out with you in the gym. He loved going on night runs with you near the Han river. But, you just weren’t getting the results you wanted. You still looked like a blobfish next to your roommate and were seeing no near progress anytime soon.

The first thing that Jeongin noticed was you stopped letting him come around to your apartment. In your mind the less he saw your roommate the less likely he was to compare you too. Not that he would, but there was always this doubt in the back of your mind.

The second was your dramatic change in demeanor. A cloud of depression seemed to hang over you wherever you went. You were tired and not acting like yourself. Lastly, he noticed you getting thinner and thinner.

You had cut out so many things from your diet that you were basically only eating a few crackers and slices of cheese a couple times a day. You stopped going out to dinner with Jeongin, choosing to go out when you knew you wouldn’t be eating.

He had no idea how to approach you, but he was worried sick. So, he went to the one person he knew he could trust with anything. Chan. He sat done with Chan and told him about everything he was thinking and feeling. After getting advice from his hyung he felt much better about asking you what was going on.

The two of you were on one of your Han river night runs. The pace you were running at was slower than usual. Jeongin made sure to go your speed, picking up on little things he noticed. “Y/n, are you sure you are alright?” He asked, stopping.

You nodded hands resting on your knee. Your chest was tight and your stomach hurt. It felt like hot volcanic air was pressing down on you like an anvil. “I’m fine. I just need a break.” He nodded and crouched down next to you. Not many people were out since it was later in the evening, but Jeongin still kept an eye out for pedestrians who might come by.

“Angel, you don’t look good at all.” He said rubbing your back. “Come sit for a minute.” Not letting you say anything against the notion he dragged you over to a bench and handed you his water bottle. You flinched tasting what was in it. Definitely not water.

“What is this?”

“Don’t worry. It’s got plenty of electrolytes in it. Just drink, angel. You need it.”

Jeongin rubbed your back as you drank from the bottle. “How did you know I needed that?” You questioned still out of breath. You attempted to hand him back the water bottle but he put it back in your hands.

“I know you haven’t been taking care of yourself.”

You sighed head in your hands. “How long have you known?”

He shrugged playing with a bracelet on his wrist. “Maybe a week,” He had known for that long and he hadn’t said anything? Why? He gave you a tight-lipped smile as if reading your thoughts. “I was hoping you would tell me. But, you come first before anything.” He laced his fingers with yours. “Why are you skipping meals, angel?”

You sighed, looking out at the water, feeling much better now. “I was jealous of my roommate. She just is so fit and gorgeous. I feel so inferior next to her.” You hand carded through your messy hair as you looked up at your boyfriend. “Maybe I was...the teensiest bit worried that she might turn your head because of how slender she was.”

“Angel, you are perfect to me. I never want you to change.” He said pressing a kiss to your temple.

Requests are open my lovelies! Just send an ask!

Masterlist

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jamaisjoons · 4 years

Text

intro: her XII ⤑ knj | m

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦:〝 you enter namjoon’s life in the most unexpected of ways, but will you be able to stay, especially when he comes with three adorable but chaotic children, even more chaotic best friends and a bitch of an ex-wife? not to mention your own emotional baggage. 〞singe dad au.

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: single dad!namjoon x marine vet!reader

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: light angst ⋆ fluff

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 5k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: its basically just full of fluff, like nothing but fluff, reader is kinda stressed, but mostly fluff, minor possessive/jealous namjoon at the end

➵ 𝑎/𝑛: yeetHAW SURPRISE !! I managed to finish it off while on my break at work !! so here you go !!!

⏤ thank you to my love @shadowsremedy for beta reading this for me !

⇥ Previous || Masterlist || Next

Eyes strained from the hours of paperwork, you sink back into your seat before exhaling deeply, and rubbing your tired eyes, your shoulders deflate wearily. Lately, work has been even more exhausting than usual: the aquarium transferring two nurse sharks to the exhibit. However, as the head veterinarian, it meant that everything falls onto you to make sure it runs smoothly: that the sharks are healthy and well looked after, that they’ll acclimatise to their new tank properly, that they won’t undergo any major stress of any kind; just general things like that. Though, the last one was easier said than done. Moving and handling of any animals would cause them stress.

Taking another deep breath, you roll your shoulders - working out the kinks in them. Once done, you look back at the huge stack of paperwork. Thick manila files are piled one on top of each other - and all of them need to be read and signed. Different though they are, whether they be health records, or the transfer document or even just general admin work make up the stack - they all have one thing in common. Every single one of them mocks you ceaselessly; the foreboding tower reminding you of the amount of work you still have to complete.

Defeated sigh escaping your lips, you decide to get back to work. After all, lamenting your workload isn’t going to deplete it. Though, before you can start looking at the next file, your phone rings from beside you. With a side glance, you sneak a peek at the contact ID, only to perk up when your boyfriend’s name flashes across the screen. Work long forgotten, you automatically move to pick it up; your finger sliding across the screen as you answer the call.

“Joonie! Hey,” you answer enthusiastically. Already, you can feel the tension in your muscles fade - the sounds of Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook yelling while Namjoon hushes them instantly soothing you.

“Hey babe, do you know what time you’ll be done today?” Namjoon’s deep voice echoes across the receiver.

Eyebrows furrowing, you glance at the clock that hangs above the door to your office. Seeing the time, your eyes widen. It’s already half six; you were supposed to be done half an hour go. “Oh shit-” you breathe out, “I didn’t even realise the time. I’ve still got a bunch of work to do though,” you continue, almost despondently. It’s a Friday evening, which means that you have the weekend to look forward to - but, you can’t leave until you’ve completed at least the more important paperwork.

“Ah- okay. Will you be coming over or going home?” Namjoon asks.

You hear Jungkook yelling in the background, cries of ‘No! Come over,’ echoing across your speaker. Biting your lip, you stare at the pile of paperwork. Once again, it mocks you - letting you know you can’t clock out until it’s done - no matter how much you want to go home to Namjoon and the boys.

“I- I’m not sure. I may finish really late and I don’t want to disturb you or anything,” you reply, barely trying to hide the upset in your voice.

Hearing your tired, strained tone, “Come over Angel, we’ll have a quiet night in. It’s also Yoongi-hyung’s birthday tomorrow, so we’re probably going to do something,” Namjoon says. Face crumpling, you nod - a quiet night in with your boyfriend sounds just like the stress relief that you need.

“Babe?” Namjoon calls out.

Realising that he can’t see you, “Oh! Sorry- yes, that sounds great. I’ll come over when I’m done. Do we need anything for Yoongi’s birthday?” you ask, a slight frown on your face. The stress of work had clearly gotten to you - you had no idea that it was already Yoongi’s birthday. It seems like you were just celebrating Hoseok’s birthday yesterday. Not that you’d done much - he’d just wanted a quiet dinner; which of course, was easier said than done, when half the guests were toddlers.

“Hmmm no- although, Taehyung mentioned wanting to bake Yoongi-hyung a cake. But that sounds messy, and I don’t really know how to bake so,” Namjoon replies offhandedly.

Perking up immediately, “we can do that! Please, Joon? Can we bake? Pretty please?” you practically beg. Across the phone, Namjoon pauses, before you hear a soft laugh.

“Someone’s excited. But alright, we can do that. Well, you can. We both know I’m useless in the kitchen,” Namjoon answers. Suppressing a yelp of victory, you pump your fist in the air before stilling. Cheeks searing with the heat of embarrassment, you silently thank whatever guardian angel is watching you. At least your boyfriend hadn’t seen that. “Alright, I have to go. Taehyung wants a snack and he looks like he’s about to cry,” Namjoon continues.

Laughing, “well you better go then. If Tae cries, that’ll only set Chim off too,” you respond knowingly.

“Yeah, exactly. I’ll see you at home then,” Namjoon says. Then, with a sweet goodbye, he hangs up the phone.

Placing your phone back onto your desk, you turn back to the huge stack of paperwork. Invigorated by your conversation with Namjoon, and the thought of going home to your boyfriend and his sons - not to mention the prospect of baking - you suddenly feel a renewed fire in your stomach. Hastily, you grab the next file before you begin reading it. All of a sudden, you have a reason to finish up your work.

As you’d planned, after you’d completed all the important paperwork, you’d gone home to grab your baking equipment before driving straight to your boyfriend’s home. Seeing the stress on your face late last night, Namjoon had gathered you into his arms before taking you to bed - the boys already being fast asleep by the time you had arrived. You remember Namjoon helping you change, and how attentive he’d been the entire night; however, you don’t remember falling asleep. As a matter of fact, the only thing that you do remember, is that you haven’t had such good sleep in over a week. Somehow, falling asleep in Namjoon’s arms, had melted all the stress of your hectic week and you’d woken up feeling completely refreshed.

Thus, you find yourself in Namjoon’s kitchen the next day. Namjoon sits at the kitchen counter, his laptop and various pieces of paper scattered on the surface as he tries to get some work done. Tried, being the keyword. Really, he’d given up a while back and instead, his eyes are glued to your figure as you flit about his kitchen. You’re still dressed in your pyjamas and, well, so is he. In fact, no one had really felt like getting changed, and so even his sons are still running about in last night’s clothing.

Still, his eyes rake over your figure. With your hair piled into a messy bun on the top of your head: stray flyaways flying about everywhere as you concentrate on baking Yoongi’s cake, and dressed in a pair of loose flannel bottoms and his hoodie: the large grey article of clothing hanging from your frame; you’re the epitome of comfort. Flour stains the material, and he can see little gooey strings of eggs in some spots. You’re nothing but an unkempt mess - but still, you look incredibly endearing.

Soft melodious music echoes through his speakers, your body softly swaying to the beat as you hum along to the tune and involuntarily, Namjoon finds his eyes softening at the utter ease in your figure. The sweet scent of vanilla wafts through the air, causing Namjoon’s mouth to water at the sugary, enticing smell. You’re in the middle of icing the cake - Namjoon’s eyes following your graceful movements as you cover the sponge with the creamy frosting.

Helpless under your enchantment, Namjoon decides to abandon his work: it’s not like he was getting anything done in the first place. Standing up from his seat, he crosses his kitchen and within a few moments, you feel your boyfriend behind you. Namjoon’s strong arms curl around you, his hands loosely resting on your hips. At the feel of his comforting presence, you instinctively relax further, your back moulding against his chest.

His head immediately drops down to your neck, his nose nuzzling the flesh as he presses his feathery kisses to the column of your throat. Feeling his plush lips brush over your supple flesh, “Joonie, stop that,” you giggle.

“No,” Namjoon pouts, pressing another kiss to your skin - this time just under the corner of your jaw.

Playfully batting his face - Namjoon narrowly dodging - “I’m trying to concentrate!” you reprimand, thought from the light laughter in your voice, Namjoon knows you’re not really mad. So, instead, he lets out his own teasing growl before squeezing your hips.

“So was I, but you distracted me. So, now I’m going to distract you,” he replies. You roll your eyes at his logic, but don’t say anything else. Rather, you return back to frosting your cake.

Namjoon steps a little closer to you, his arms snaking around your hips so he can hold you in his arms. You feel his large palms intertwine before resting against your lower abdomen. Softly, his body sways with yours, the two of you moving to the beat of the music. Namjoon knows he’s not the best dancer, yet, with you in his arms, he can’t help, but follow the gentle swaying of your body - the movement coming easily to him. Meanwhile, from beside the two of you, Taehyung’s little form peers over the edge of the counter, his little hands braced on the marble countertop as he pokes his head over the ledge. “What are you doing now?” he asks, his eyes following your movements curiously.

“I’m crumb coating the cake - so that none of the cake crumbs gets on the outside later on,” you reply without skipping a beat.

“Do you like baking, Noona?” Taehyung’s soft voice continues as he turns to you in intrigue. Breaking from your concentration while you run the stainless steel palette knife over the edge edges, you glance at Taehyung.

“Mhm, it’s one of my favourite things,” you reply. Taehyung nods his head, but turns back to the half iced cake. One eyebrow raising, you attempt to suppress a little giggle. “Do you want to help me, Tigger?” you ask. All of a sudden, Taehyung perks up before nodding enthusiastically.

From behind you, Namjoon uncurls his arms from your frame, only to pull one of the barstools closer before picking his son up and depositing him onto the cushion. Once he’s sure his son is safely on the stool, he turns back to you - only to be stopped when Jimin tugs at his trouser leg. Motioning to his father with grabby hands, Jimin looks at his father with wide eyes and a soft pout. Immediately, Namjoon bends over, and stepping to your side, easily lifts Jimin up into his arms.

Turning his eyes, Namjoon lets out a soft chuckle at the sight of his final child. Unbothered, Jungkook sits with his back to one of the cabinets - his eyes glued to the screen of his game and a bowl of snacks situated next to him. Unlike Jimin and Taehyung, it seems Jungkook couldn’t care less about the cake. Though, he supposes, it makes sense: since it was originally Taehyung’s idea - and Jimin always wanted to do whatever Taehyung did - and vice versa.

Namjoon turns back to you - just in time to see Taehyung reach over to grab the bowl of icing. However, in his son’s enthusiastic haste - he almost knocks into the cake. Acting on reflex, honed from years of chasing his troublemaking twins, Namjoon’s hand shoots out and steadies the cake - his fingers gripping the cake board to prevent it from toppling over.

Turning to his middle child, Namjoon looks at him with soft reprimanding eyes, “be careful, Taehyung, we don’t want to ruin ____’s hard work now, do we?” he says.

“Sorry, daddy,” Taehyung says sheepishly.

Seeing the slight pout, and the way his eyes darken, “It’s alright! We got it in time, didn’t we?” you say, winking at Taehyung while petting his hair. At your words, and realising you’re not mad at him, the sadness in Taehyung’s eyes fades away. Once he’s perked up, you angle the handle of the palette knife to Taehyung.

Eagerly, but with more restraint this time, Taehyung grabs the utensil from you. You help him dip it into the bowl of icing - then, wrapping your large hand around his, you both begin layering the frosting over the rest of the cake. With the two of you frosting the sponge, Namjoon and Jimin stand next to you both - Jimin pointing out different places that need more buttercream while Namjoon simply watches. Though, every now and then his eyes dart to the buttery icing, his mouth salivating at the mere sight of it.

Eventually, once the cake has been iced, you drop the palette knife back into the bowl before pushing it to the side. Unnoticed to you, Namjoon’s eyes follow the movement, his eyes lighting up when he notices a soft mound of the buttercream still left over. Briefly, he contemplates whether he can sneak some away from you and his sons - but that will have to come later.

Meanwhile, you cross the kitchen, and grab your bag of store-bought decorations. If you had more time, you’d consider making them yourself - but sadly, that wasn’t the case this time. Upending the bag, you scatter the boxes and packets across the counter. Immediately, Taehyung and Jimin squeal - their small pudgy hands moving to grab the different packets.

“This one!” they both shout simultaneously, holding up different packages of cake decorations. With a laugh, you nod at both of them.

Stepping back slightly, Namjoon watches as Jimin and Taehyung move in closer to you, their knees perched on the barstools as their hands and chests lean onto the counter. Taehyung’s face is a picture of concentration as he hands one of his embellishments while Jimin points out where you should put them before they swap, Jimin handing you one of his decorations and Taehyung pointing out where you should put it.

There’s no real rhyme or reason to the way the boys garnish the cake and shortly, it’s covered in a plethora of random decorations. Soon, both rainbow coloured and chocolate sprinkles clutter the top, various different embellishments, from chocolate buttons to sugar flowers, litter the cake edges sporadically; and the borders are piped in different sized peaks of soft buttercream. Namjoon knows you love to bake: you’d mentioned once in passing that you used to do it as a stress reliever during university, and he also knows that cake decorating is one of your favourite things: your Instagram feed chock-full of random pastry chefs and amateur bakers. Yet, you still listen to his sons - entertaining their chaotic creativity as you adorn the cake with a plethora of confectionary and colours.

Jungkook is the only one still not involved, by some surprise, and with a quick side glance, Namjoon sees his son’s eyes still glued to the screen of his game console, his hand reaching for his snacks every now and then. Realising both you, and all three of his sons, are otherwise preoccupied, Namjoon turns back to the bowl of icing left forgotten on the side of the counter. Instantly, his eyes light up, and with sneaking glances towards you and his sons, he licks his lips before turning back to the bowl.

Slowly, Namjoon steps away from you - moving purposely so as not to arouse your suspicions. For most of it, you barely notice him, too engrossed in your cake - however, his strange actions garner Jungkook’s attention. Putting his game down, Jungkook watches as his father sneaks across the kitchen, only to quietly pull out a spoon and dip it into icing. Slowly, Jungkook waddles to his father, eyes trained on the way Namjoon licks up the sugary cream from the spoon.

“Daddy, can I have some?” Jungkook asks as he tugs his father’s leg - trying to draw Namjoon’s attention.

“Okay, but don’t tell Noona,” Namjoon quietly whispers. Easily, he picks up his son, only to place him onto one of the seats before pushing the bowl towards him. Jungkook quickly nods - but doesn’t say anything else, instead, poking his little fingers into the frosting.

So engrossed in your cake, you barely notice Jimin sneak away - leaving you and Taehyung to your devices as he joins his father and younger brother. However, after a little while longer, Taehyung disappears as well. Nonetheless, you chalk it down to getting bored and continue to finish up the last of the cake. Once it’s done, you let out a little victory cheer before looking up. However, the first thing you notice, is that Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook’s fingers are all in the bowl, their lips stained with the white buttercream frosting.

“What are you doing? You know that’s basically all sugar - it’s not good for you. What would Namjoon say-” you automatically begin reprimanding. However, when you spot your boyfriend next to them, looking equally guilty - plush lips wrapped around a metal spoon - you let out a little sigh and shake your head. “You know what, he won’t say anything because I have a feeling he’s the reason you’re eating plain buttercream in the first place,” you continue, looking at him pointedly.

Immediately, the three boys nod.

“Daddy said not to tell you! It’s all his fault!” Jungkook says, pointing to his father.

“Yeah! Daddy said we could,” Taehyung chimes in. Swiftly, you pull your bottom lip between your teeth and bite down on it in order to suppress your giggle.

“I saw Daddy and Jungkook eating it, so I wanted to as well,” Jimin butts in.

“Jimin! Taehyung! Jungkook!” Namjoon gasps, looking at his sons in utter betrayal. The sight of his shocked eyes causes you to splutter, and then, immediately you’re laughing.

“Oh my god, they totally ratted you out,” you snicker. Across the counter, Namjoon pouts, his sons giggling to themselves too.

“I can’t believe this. My own sons sold me out to my own girlfriend,” Namjoon teasingly laments. With another snicker, you cross the kitchen and towards him. Standing in front of him, you wind your hands around his waist and leaning on your tiptoes, you kiss the tip of his nose.

“It’s what you deserve, letting them eat plain sugar like that,” you answer, your eyes twinkling with mischief. Naturally, Namjoon’s arms wrap around you as he draws you closer to him.

Dipping his head down, he brushes his lips against yours, causing you to gasp. Reflexively, you poke your tongue out to lick your lips and a breathy moan falling from your mouth when you taste the sweetened vanilla on your lips. “It’s not funny, my love. I’m really hurt, you know. Will you kiss it better?” Namjoon asks, a roguish smile curling onto his lips. His warm breath fans across your face, your eyes fluttering as the saccharine aroma of both Namjoon and the buttercream wafts through your nose.

Breath hitching in your throat, your hands trail up his chest to curl around his neck, pulling him closer to you. “It’s a figurative hurt, where am I supposed to kiss?” you reply cheekily, your own eyes twinkling with mischief as you look up at him through the thick of your lashes.

Once again, Namjoon hums. It’s deeper this time, however - a little more sensuous. “I think I know,” he replies. Then, without giving you any time to think about it, his lips descend onto yours.

Cake box in one hand, and Jungkook holding your other, you walk into the lobby of JinHit’s building - Namjoon ushering in his twins behind you. As soon as you get in, you notice Seokjin and Hoseok standing, speaking to each other.

“Hyung!” Taehyung calls out, tugging on his father’s hand as he tries to run towards them. Immediately, Seokjin and Hoseok turn around, greeting the five of you with a wave.

“Oh wow, did you buy a cake?” Seokjin asks, peering at the white cake box in curiosity.

Immediately, “Noona baked it! Hyungie and I helped!” Jimin says proudly, a bright smile on his face.

Hoseok quirks his eyebrows, “did you now? And where was Jungkookie in all of this?” he questions, turning to the youngest.

“Playing games,” Jungkook simply shrugs, not thinking anything of it. His deadpan answer causes Hoseok and Seokjin to laugh before they nod.

“Alright, and I assume you just watched?” Seokjin chuckles while clapping Namjoon on the back.

Before he can reply, “watched? More like distracted me and then ate the rest of the icing,” you snort - once again looking at him pointedly. Namjoon’s mouth curls, his ears burning bright red as he pouts.

“Oh yeah, that makes sense,” Hoseok replies, nodding sagely, “did he try eating sugar out of the spoon again?” he continues. Both you and Seokjin snicker, Namjoon letting out a sigh of exasperation.

“Can we just go? We’re here to celebrate Yoongi’s birthday, not make fun of me,” Namjoon pouts, a slight whiny tone to his voice. Seeing the sheepishness in his eyes, you adjust the cake box in your hold before shuffling closer and kissing his jaw in comfort. Head angling down to you, Namjoon smiles softly in thanks before returning your kiss - his lips brushing against your temple.

“Gross,” Hoseok gripes playfully, causing both you and Namjoon to stick your tongues out at him.

“Alright, alright. Let’s go, Yoongi’s probably wondering where we are,” Seokjin says - playing peacemaker in Yoongi’s stead. Then, he gestures the lot of you to follow him.

Contrary to Seokjin’s words, however, Yoongi was in no way waiting for you. Walking into the meeting room upstairs, you come to an empty room - Seokjin letting out a sigh of frustration. “God damn it! I told him to meet us here. Did he forget?” Seokjin grouses, his eyebrows furrowing in exasperation.

“Knowing hyung, he’s still in his studio,” Hoseok points out. His words, however, only causes Seokjin to let out a sigh of frustration.

“Let’s just go to his studio,” he replies before ushering you out of the room. Once again, he navigates the lot of you through the various corridors of the building - before you come upon a large wooden door. A gold plaque hangs on it, the words ‘Genius Lab’ embossed in black on the metal plate.

Aggressively, Seokjin begins knocking - practically banging his fist against the door. “Yah! Min Yoongi! Did I not tell you to be in the meeting room?” he yells. Instantly, the door swings wide open, Yoongi standing in the doorway.

Quirking an eyebrow, “I was waiting - but you’re like ten minutes late - so I decided to do some work,” Yoongi replies, his face passive as usual.

“Sorry, there was a bit of traffic,” you apologise with a small bow. Yoongi opens his mouth to reply, however, before he can say anything, Namjoon’s sons are running up to him.

Jimin and Taehyung wrap their arms around each one of his legs, Jungkook standing between them and winding his own arms around Yoongi’s waist. “Yoonie hyung! Happy birthday!” they sweetly chorus at the same time. Immediately, Yoongi’s face softens, and instinctively, he pets their heads, a shy smile on his face while he nods at them.

A bright grin plastered onto his face, “Noona, Hyungie and I baked you a cake!” Jimin says proudly, causing you to shyly hold up the cake box. Yoongi’s eyes twinkle slightly before he’s stepping to the side. Taking his cue, you all quickly enter his studio.

Swiftly, you unbox the cake, and while Hoseok holds it up - you sing happy birthday. The entire time, Yoongi’s cheeks are bunched up under his eyes, his bright gummy smile on display while he bounces in place. After you’re done, and Yoongi’s cut his cake, everyone sporadically finds seats around Yoongi’s studio. Hoseok, Jimin and Taehyung sit on the floor, the younger twin in the older man’s lap as Jimin happily eats his cake beside them. Seokjin sits on the sofa, Jungkook in his father’s lap - leaving you to sit on the sofa arm besides Namjoon.

“So, are you working on anything interesting?” you ask, idly chewing on your cake while addressing Yoongi.

Nodding, “I’m actually working on a new song - do you want to hear?” Yoongi asks. Eyelids blowing wide open, you freeze in place before your jaw drops open.

“A-Are you sure?” you stutter out. Was he really offering you an exclusive sneak peek of his future track? God, sometimes you really forget that your, now, closest friends are huge musical celebrities. Sure, your own boyfriend is a famous rapper, as is Hoseok, but other than that discussion about their upcoming tour, you’ve never really gotten involved with their jobs. Namjoon rarely tended to bring it up at home, wanting to focus more on his sons and your relationship. Besides, Yoongi had always been your favourite rapper - and just the thought of getting to listen to a demo of his song has your heart racing.

“Earth to ____?” Seokjin says, waving his hand in front of your face with a playful laugh. Quickly, you bat his hand away before glaring at him with a pout, your cheeks heating from embarrassment.

“Look at her! She’s blushing like a little girl, oh my god,” Hoseok begins taunting, then he pauses. “Wait- didn’t you mention Yoongi is your favourite rapper when we first met?” he asks, a knowing smirk curling onto his face.

Features twisting into a scowl, you sneer at him, “well it’s definitely not you. You’re too mean to me,” you snidely reply, before sticking your tongue out.

Wincing jokingly, “ouch, you really wound me, ____” Hoseok dramatically sighs, clutching his heart and shaking his head.

“It’s because I’m the nicest to her,” Yoongi chimes in, nodding sagely.

“Hey! I’m nice to her,” Hoseok yells in indignation.

However, ignoring Hoseok, “Wait- Yoongi, are you sure I can listen?” you ask, remembering Yoongi’s first question.

He turns back to you before nodding and rolling his chair a little to the side. “Yeah, come on,” Yoongi beckons. Eyes lighting up with joy, you shoot off the sofa and over to him in an instant.

The moment you move, Namjoon blinks at the unexpected movement. The entire time Hoseok had teased you, he’d felt a little upset. Of course, he’d always known Yoongi is your favourite rapper - and he’d never begrudge you for it. Nonetheless, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t just a little upset that he’s not your favourite. Gaze trained on you, Namjoon watches as Yoongi pressed one of the headphone speakers to his ear, offering the other to you, before opening up the track and clicking play.

As soon as the beat begins, your eyebrows knit together, your lips a firm line. He knows the expression well: very rarely do you bring home paperwork - both of you prefer to keep work out of your relationship - but the few times you have, he’s watched that exact same expression of concentration, your pen flitting over the papers. Every now and then, your eyes twinkle, a short gasp falling from your lips as you nod to the beat. Unable to help himself, Namjoon cannot stop the swell of jealousy, sadness and a slight twinge of possessiveness that wells up inside him.

When you shuffle a little closer to Yoongi, your ears pressed together as you share the headphones, Namjoon knows he can’t watch anymore. Quietly, he passes Jungkook over to Seokjin before shuffling out of the room. Hoseok and Seokjin look at each other, exchanging a brief knowing glance between themselves. As soon as you spot Namjoon’s movement from the corner of your eye, before you watch him softly slam the door shut, you draw away from Yoongi.

Turning to the other two, “Is he okay?” you ask, your eyebrows knotting together in concern.

“I think he’s a little jealous,” Seokjin replies softly. For a moment, you almost dismiss him, until you see the seriousness in his eyes.

“What? Why?” you ask, confusion lacing your voice.

“Just watching you and Yoongi, maybe? Like we all know there’s nothing going on, but like, yeah,” Hoseok tries explaining, rubbing the back of his head. “He’s probably a little mad too,” he continues. Seeing your face fall, Hoseok quickly shakes his head, “Not at you! At himself for feeling the way he is- he’s probably just trying to control himself and needed a breather,” he finishes. Placated by Hoseok’s words, you nod, knowing he’d never lie to you. However, his words don’t stop your heart clenching in your chest, your stomach dropping. You’d never wanted to make him feel upset - or jealous.

“I think I’ll go speak to him,” Yoongi cuts in, already getting up from his seat. Quickly, you shake your head, already shooting up to your feet.

“No!” you abruptly interject. Shuffling over to the cake, you cut a large piece of it before placing it on a paper plate. “It’s okay. I think it’d be better if I go. Watch my boys for me yeah?” you say once you're done, before shooting out of the room, not even waiting for a response.

The moment the door slams shut, the three of them turn to each other. “Do you think she noticed she used ‘my’ or…?” Seokjin asks.

With a wistful smile, “No, I don’t think she did,” Yoongi replies, shaking his head fondly.

“Well, looks like your Noona may become your mommy soon,” Hoseok chimes in as he directs his attention to the boys.

Ecstatically, Taehyung turns in Hoseok’s lap, looking at the older man in wide-eyed wonder. Standing up in his lap - Hoseok wincing when the entirety of his weight pushes down on his legs - Taehyung presses his pudgy hands against Hoseok’s cheeks before squishing them together, “Really?” the toddler asks, his voice full of excitement and hope.

Laughing, Hoseok nods his head in Taehyung’s hold, “really,” he replies. Seokjin and Yoongi nodding along to his sentiment.

a/n: this was actually supposed to have smut in it but like it got so long without it that i’ve just decided that the next chapter will be solely smut 🤡 so owo look forward to that !! whenever it comes out !!

Kofi | Masterlist

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mmvalentine · 3 years

Text

But You pt 2 | Feysand

Modern AU. Read Part 1 Part 3

Rhys hadn't seen Feyre in a year.

He had meant to see her, of course, but their colleges were so far away, and both he and Feyre had been busier with their workloads than they had anticipated. Feyre, in fine arts, had been part of no less than four community exhibitions since she had started. And Rhys in journalism had been told it was compulsory for him to join the school newspaper in his first year, so that ate up a lot of spare time.

And then of course there was that little voice in his head that played Feyre's words back to him day in, day out.

"You always want to see just me."

Rhys didn't know if she had meant it to sound accusatory, but had realised that night that he had monopolised her their whole life. She had been so keen to leave town and it suddenly occurred to him that out in the world, she would be free of him, wouldn't have to look out for him all the time, wouldn't have to think about the weird little hermit who hadn't bothered to make any other friends.

So Rhys put a lot of effort into to trying to wait until she initiated contact, to make sure that she had enough room to breathe and grow like she deserved without the stress of him hanging onto her. There were phone calls here and there, and Feyre always forwarded him the pamphlets for her shows. They were often on weeknights when gallery spaces were cheap to rent, and so Rhys never went. But he followed voraciously on social media and made sure to always share her work.

Missing Feyre was... was something she'd never understand, because she had actual healthy social networks. For Rhys, it had always been just Feyre, and being so far away from her made him feel like he was missing a limb. His arms, his legs, his Feyre. That's how it always had been, and he carried the ache around with him like a phantom itch.

Then finally his semester ended and Feyre called him up.

"Rhys!" she said when he picked up. The sound of her voice sent shivers down his spine, and he pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers before he answered. He didn't want her to hear the shake in his voice. Didn't want to put his weakness on her, like he always did.

"Hey you," he managed to say. "Rhys, how come I haven't seen you all year?" Feyre asked him. "Because we're first years and being at the bottom of the food chain is a full time gig?" Feyre laughed, the husky sound of it melting Rhys' insides. "Well, it's officially our day off. When do I get to see my best friend?" Rhys shoved his phone between his ear and his shoulder, and continued folding his shirts.

"Well," he said, "I'm actually in your neighbourhood this weekend for an event, if you want to catch up." He was lying. "That would be amazing!" Feyre yelled. "You sure it's not too far?" "Of course not, I need to be there anyway." He didn't. "I'm packing my bag as we speak." He was. "Alright well, give me a call when you get here. I can't wait to see you." "Me neither," Rhys said, and his heart squeezed so painfully he closed his eyes. "Okay I guess I'll see you soon then! Bye!" Don't go, Rhys wanted to beg. Instead, he forced himself to say "Bye, Feyre," and hang up the phone.

In the end it took him 30 hours to drive down the coast. He didn't tell Feyre that. Just arrived breathless at the address she had given him, and knocked on her front door. Waited a second, then the door opened, and Feyre appeared, and Rhys was whole once more.

"Hey," he said, and then Feyre was hugging him and he was burying his face in her masses of honey-gold hair.

Inside her house, Feyre made them hot bitter tea and sat opposite him at the kitchen bench. She leaned forward with her hands in the sleeves of her sweater, and Rhys instinctively leaned forward too. It had been so long since he had seen her in person, so long since he had touched her.

"So," she said. "What's this event that you're going to?" "Event?" Rhys stared into her grey-blue eyes. "Yeah, what's so important you crossed the country for?" "Oh." Rhys remembered his excuse for coming up. "Yeah. I'm on assignment for my school newspaper." "In California?" "Yes? It's, uh..." he glanced at the newspaper folded up on the table. "The Adult Convention." Adult convention?! Feyre just raised an eyebrow.

"Well, it's a controversial topic, you have to admit. It's been banned in some states." Probably. "Right. So, for the sake of public interest and social conversation, you're going to go hang out with a lot of nearly naked people, and peruse the latest technology in self-pleasure." Rhys cocked head. "Interested in coming along, Feyre darling?" She snorted. "Not really my scene," she said. Rhys' eyes sparked. "Then what does turn you on?" She reached out and smacked him upside the head.

Rhys caught her fingers, and brushed his lips against them.

"I've missed you," he said quietly. Feyre's face softened, and she stroked his cheek gently. "I've missed you, too," she said. She dropped her hand, but Rhys held onto it on the table top and rubbed his thumb in her palm. "You've no idea," he said. "I missed your skin." "You did always need a lot of affection," Feyre murmured. "Is no one giving you hugs up there?" Rhys shook his head. "Not one," he said. He slid his elbows forward and put Feyre's hands on his face. "I'm starved." She leaned a little closer, and smiled fondly at him. "You big baby," she crooned. He put his forehead on hers, the magnetic pull of her overwhelming.

"You know," he said. "I think that I spent so much time with you I got desensitised. Now that I've been away... I can barely handle you." "Rhys," she sighed. Her breath blew across his lips, and not for the first time, he wondered what it would be like to taste her. To just move an inch closer, and lick the air from her lungs off her tongue.

At that moment, the sound of keys in the front door startled them apart. Feyre sat up straight, her finger slipping through his grasp and he growled under his breath.

"Hey Feyre," came a voice. A male voice. "Hey guys," Feyre called back. Guys plural?

Next thing he knew, two enormous men shouldered through the door with grocery bags, and filled the kitchen immediately, breaking the little tea-steam bubble they had at the table.

"Guys, this is my best friend from home, Rhys. Rhys, these are my housemates Cass and Az."

Rhys just gave a curt nod of his head.

"Nice to meet you," the bigger one said. "We're going out later, our friends have just set up a bar downtown and it's opening night. You're welcome to join us." That was the smaller one.

"No thanks," Rhys said smoothly. "I'm not into crowds." Feyre frowned. "Come on, it'll be fun. I'm going." "Nah, I've got to be up early." "Well," Feyre said, "then I'll stay here with you. I don't get to see you very often." "Aw no Feyre you have to come!" the bigger one wheedled. Cass, possibly.

And then Rhys remembered that Feyre had been tied to him for eons, and no one was as unfair to her as he was.

"Feyre you go," he said. "I have to go to that event anyway, remember?" "I thought that was tomorrow," Feyre said sadly. It almost broke him. "It's tonight, I have to leave tomorrow. Deadlines, and all that."

"Okay, we're sorry you'll miss it," Az said. "Feyre, we'll head off about six, okay?" Feyre smiled and gave him a nod, and then they disappeared into one of the bedrooms.

"So... those are your housemates huh?" "Yeah, they're lovely." "And are you... dating either of them?" "Rhys they're dating each other. They literally just disappeared into the same room." "Right, right."

Feyre stared at him.

"What's going on with you?" "Nothing," Rhys said. Too quickly. "Well, I should get going." "What? You just got here," Feyre said. "I know, I'm sorry. I really do have to get to that event." "Don't you want to stay and meet Cass and Az properly?" Rhys rolled his eyes. "You know how I feel about other people." Feyre gave him a half smile, that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Yeah. I do."

Rhys headed to the door. Before he could turn the handle, Feyre wrapped her arms around him once more.

"Let's not leave it so long next time, okay?" she said. "Okay," Rhys agreed, and didn't mean it.

He drove the thirty hours home, and when he saw an ad for exchange students to Brazil a week later, he put in an application.

****

Is this toooo much angst?!

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-babies @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @whythefuckdoiexist @inejsarrow @swankii-art-teacher

MASTERLIST

#feysand #feysandfic #acotar #angst #mine

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mvnvgedmischief · 3 years

Text

unremarkable days.

summary: sirius black is trying to be a good man, a good brother, a good person. Sirius has a steady job designing book covers for a publishing house, a flat he never leaves, and a traumatized brother who was just removed from the custody of his parents. All in all, it's wildly unremarkable.

chapter: 4/?

characters: sirius black, regulus black, wolfstar, background marauders

tags: tw: canon compliant abuse, child abuse, social services, abuse

words: 3. 8 k

read it on ao3 here

read the last chapter here

Sirius knew that work was going to be high stress all day. He felt sick to his stomach, thinking about the way he would continuously have to talk to people, when all he wanted was some peace. He wanted downtime. Time when he didn’t have to think about how he needed his paycheck to put food on the table, clothes on his brother’s back, pay bills to keep his lights on, wifi for homework. Regulus occupied his thoughts at all times, protecting him was Sirius’s only priority these days. He didn’t have time for anything else. Not his friends, not his interests, not music. Nothing could come between his focus and his brother’s wellbeing, because if it did, Sirius would never forgive himself. The consequences were too dire. So instead, he just wished for downtime that wouldn’t come, and prayed for the weekend to approach even faster.

The weekend, when he could finally sleep again, albeit not well. The weekend, when he had the time to take a breath, even if it was only brief. Because his weekends were also spent finding ways to better equip his apartment for his younger brother, going to long grocery runs so Regulus had lunch to take to school, meal prepping all of the things he couldn’t bring himself to eat for dinner. He was definitely tired of all of the ways his mind was spiraling out, he didn’t have the time. He didn’t fault Regulus for it, it wasn’t the teen's presence in his life that was causing all this stress. It really was his own fault. A bit of crying at that first hearing had given Walburga and Orion the satisfaction of a victory over him at that first hearing, and they seemed to crave more of that chaos. They wanted to watch their children suffer, and this was how they chose to do that. So instead he spiraled in the privacy of his own home, because he could practically hear the words they burned into his mind whenever he saw them, and feel the ache of old beatings.

But it was only Thursday, and that meant he still had to do this all day, and then get berated by the rest of the team for not attending their weekly bonding happy hour. If he was lucky, no one would ask him to go. He knew he should be less terrified of them asking, most of the people on his team were his friends. There was simply the question of Remus, and Sirius didn’t have the time to be thinking about him in the first place.

He didn’t have time to think about the way his hair curled just the right way to fall into his eyes when he slept, or the way his caramel freckles made him look sunkist. He didn’t have time to think about the pink scars that ran down Remus’s face or how they got there. He definitely didn;’t have time to think of the comfort of his hand combing through Sirius’s own mop of unruly curls. So instead, he needs to put all of that out of his mind. It wasn’t going to help him do well at work. It wasn’t going to solve his problems. He didn’t have the time for this, nor did he have the emotional bandwidth. Perhaps that was why Sirius was conveniently avoiding the idea that he had asked Remus on a date. With some luck, Remus would think he was just an asshole who ghosted him. That was definitely complicated by the fact that they worked together, that he couldn’t just disappear. He wanted to, he really did, because there was simply no time.

He set up his deliverables as though he had made tons of them, because his employment in this company rode on it. Just two months ago, he was pegged to be promoted within the next two cycles, and now he could barely hold on to his sanity enough to handle his workload. He was so fucking tired, and he had so much on his plate. He needed to mentally prepare himself for the long day of meetings ahead of him. He had no true motivation to do his job right now, all he knew was that his exhaustion was no excuse. He knew that his boss, Alice, was giving him a whole lot of leeway right now. She was probably doing more than she should to help him. Being a mentor on the senior design team didn’t mean she needed to keep tabs on his personal life and pick up his slack.

“Sirius–”

When Sirius focused back into the meeting he was calling into, it occurred to him that they’re talking to him. So he did what he always did, blamed it on a shoddy connection.

“Oh, sorry, can you repeat that? My audio cut out.”

“Remus was saying that some of the poems could probably use illustrations, and he was wondering if you had any ideas on which ones needed it.”

“Thanks, Peter.” Sirius was glad that he knew the people on this team, that Peter and James were as close to him as anyone could be. Because otherwise, he’d probably be fucked.

“So I was looking through them, and I was thinking Bite, Magick, and Love I could probably use larger scale illustrations. But at the same time, we don’t want to crowd the book. How attached are you to the current order or page arrangement?”

It felt too close, but he was lucky that he had at least read the titles of some of the poems in the first half of the book. Sirius knew Remus didn’t actually know what his level of involvement was. He thought it was just doodles, but Sirius would be responsible for presenting everything from kearning and font choice within the pages, to illustration and cover art to the design team. He was integral to the success of this book as a product, and he needed to start acting like it.

“I’m pretty attached.” Remus sounded cold to Sirius, and he wondered what exactly he had done wrong in this meeting. And yet, he didn’t have time to think on it. He needed to keep things moving, keep getting valuable information out of the author. Hook up be damned, Sirius needed this book to actually get off the ground.

“Okay, well we should get a meeting on the calender to discuss. What poems and what scale of illustrations you want–”

“Shouldn’t you be deciding what the illustrations look like and the logistics of those. Isn’t that what you get paid for?” Remus really wasn’t making this easy on Sirius. But he had dealt with bigger demons and divas then whatever this attitude was. So he put on a light and airy smile, one they’d never know didn’t reach his eyes over the low quality webcam and nodded.

“If you’d like to take a hands off approach with the design work, that can absolutely be arranged. But in the case of a fledgling project with a new author, the design team, myself included, really hope to prioritize your artistic license so that we can get a better sense of your vision for your literature, should Quill move forward with other publications in the future. We can provide a completely in-house service, with as much input as you feel necessary during the design process, and deliver collateral towards the end of the project when final edits are done, if you would prefer, Mister Lupin.”

Sirius practically wanted to scream. He needed Remus to stop fucking with his job, with his livelihood. He couldn’t lose this project. He needed all of the billable hours he could get if he was going to justify the overtime he needed in order to provide for his brother. This was ridiculous. But his clinical and polite answer must have thrown Remus, because he didn’t get much more attitude out of him. The back and forth had ended. So instead, Sirius pulled up his deliverables for the week, which included new iterations for the covers, and twelve illustrations for the three poems he had mentioned.

He noticed the way Remus looked at his drawings, like he was pained by whatever his thoughts were, and Sirius wants to scream that he’s under no obligation to think that they’re good. But then he remembers that Remus seemed to be nitpicking on purpose, based on his critique of the design system itself. Sirius didn’t have the time to deal with that level of petty, just because he hadn’t been answering. He was too busy. He had too much on his plate. So instead he continues his presentation.

“I don’t like any of these. Maybe you should start over.” Remus sounded vindictive, even mean. Like he was doing this out of spite. Sirius could feel his heart drop in that moment. He didn’t want to start over. He didn’t have the time.

“What do you not like about them?” Sirius is trying to salvage his work while he can.

“The vibe is off.”

“Oh, is there something specific that throws it off or...” Sirius trailed off, wondering what exactly he needed to change.

“No, it’s the whole thing. All of them are just off.”

Sirius needed to think quick on his feet. He didn’t have the time to start from scratch, so he pulled up his original thumbnails that he had discussed with Remus.

“These are the original sketches we discussed. I moved forward with the ones we talked about. I’m happy to rework those sketches,” no, he wasn’t. “But if there’s another sketch that you think would fit your vision better, please let me know.” He felt like he was pleading with Remus not to hate his artwork. He’d be a liar if he said it wasn’t a blow to his self esteem to hear that everything that he did was bad.

“No, I would suggest you start over.”

Sirius nodded, his mind immediately whirring with ways he could start over and re-design this project. He really didn’t want to do it. He didn’t want to do hundreds of thumbnails to get set on thirty, only to be destroyed in a meeting again. Especially when Remus seemed so excited about all of his illustrations before the meetings. It felt like too much. He didn’t have the energy for this kind of behavior.

Luckily, Marlene directed the conversation away from Sirius’s work. The rest of the call went on without a hitch, like the only person who’s work Remus had a problem with was Sirius’s. He knew that it was more likely for Remus to have a problem with him, because design work was usually something an artist thought of as easy; however, this felt calculated and cold. If Sirius had been avoiding Remus before, it definitely wasn’t about to get better. So instead, he listened to the end of the meeting, and started the project all over again. He could do this. It was an unremarkable critique. It didn’t matter.

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almosthonest · 3 years

Text

Homework Anxiety

{ James Hetfield / Lars Ulrich x Reader }

in which james and lars help you through a panic attack over schoolwork !

( A / N : another request by my good friend, lee @bigdaddylars i really hope this makes you feel better :) )

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

You absolutely hated schoolwork. The endless workload that your teachers have you were really stressing you out. And the fact that they just put more on you made it even more stressful. Essays, math work, and other various subjects shoved down your throat. When were you going to need this in your life? Half of this was all jibberish to you. You couldn't even comprehend over what you were doing.

You were now doing another essay, which was due tomorrow morning. And you wanted to make it good. But thinking of what to write just gave you anxiety. Your head was pounding, your hands were sweaty. You could barely hold your pen because they were so sweaty.

You were on the verge of tears about this paper, and you jumped, hearing the familiar footsteps Lars come into the room.

"Hey Y / N, have you seen my. . . "

He stopped, looking at you. You had faced him for a small second before turning away from him. Lars walked towards you at your desk.

"Are you alright?"

You quickly wiped the tears off your face. "Yeah. . ."

"No you're not. Look at me."

You looked at him, and he pulled you into a hug afterward. He could see that you were shaking, which wasn't good at all. Lars knew that you were having such anxiety, but didn't exactly know why you were having that anxiety. The drummer hated seeing you like this.

"What's taking you so long, man?"

James had walked in, originally looking for Lars since they were in a band rehearsal right now. But seeing you there made his heart just sink.

"Hey, hey, hey, what happened?" James asked him.

"She's having another panic attack."

James sat down beside the two of you. "Hey, it's okay," He said to you, "Just breathe."

Your breathing had been heavy and staggered. You were struggling to breathe a little bit, and that's what made the two of them concerned. You hated having these panic attacks in front of them. You felt vulnerable and you hated feeling that way.

But after a while, your breathing had calmed down. You had let go of Lars, wiping more years away.

"What's wrong, Y / N?" James asked you.

"My homework load is becoming too much," You explained, "I have an essay due tomorrow and I haven't even started."

"How long have you been working on it?" Lars questioned.

"Four hours."

"Take a break," James told you, "We're rehearsing right now, you could sit and watch us!"

You thought about it for a moment. As much as you wanted to watch them play, you needed to have that essay in by tomorrow morning. It was an assignment grade and all of that was just a lot of stress. It was too much to handle. And you were already failing as it is.

"I-I can't!" You stammered, "I need this essay done by tomorrow!"

"We know, but you need to focus on you. There's always later," James told you.

"Yeah! And after rehearsal, we can help you!" Lars reassured, "Even though we might not be the best at essays."

This made you chuckle. "Thanks guys, appreciate it."

"You feelin' any better?" James asked

"Yeah, a bit. Thanks guys."

"Anytime," said Lars.

#lars ulrich #james hetfield #x reader #spencer writes

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king-maven-calore · 3 years

Note

Eeeheheheehheh 42. Shade and Farley 😌

Here you go love! I hope I did them justice 🥺

It’s 6.49 PM. Eleven minutes from now, the Barrows will start trickling at their house, ready for the gourmet dinner he promised since he got Tramy to teach him how to make pasta from scratch. And everything is going great, except for the part where there has to be actual food on the table. Strings of pasta hang from every available hook and handle in the kitchen creating a willow tree of flour while Shade waits for the water to boil and prays for the sauce not to get burned. If that mess didn’t seem sufficient to get on anyone’s nerves, Diana is wildly pacing around the kitchen as she rants about the latest bill she had to contest at the City Hall (something about allowing restaurants to destroy the world) while Clara, always a fan of her mom’s antics, imitates her movements and trails her steps.

“And what wrong could it really cause if restaurants don’t separate their wastes?” she asks impassionate, chasing an invisible enemy. “It will alleviate workers' workload and let them get to their homes sooner, they say. They wouldn’t be working extra hours! Then hire more fucking people and pay them well, pigs!” She slams her fist on the island counter and Shade extends his hands with a short whine, lamenting the loss of the sheet of tagliatelle that has just turned into a lasagna. Is it too late to make lasagna?

“Pigs!” Clara repeats and slams down her chubby palms over the edge of the counter she can barely reach. Shade can literally feel those hands crushing his heart as another sheet of pasta loses the good fight before his eyes. They never stood a chance to his wife’s socialist anger.

When the faint smell of burnt onions hits his nostrils, he gets DeJa'Vu of the last Barrow get-together at Mare and Cal’s place, how they had to order pizza in the end.

Not this time, not on his watch.

Shade takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. “Ok!” he claps and walks up to the love of his life, the mother of his child (hopefully, children), brackets her face in his hands, and pleads. “Darling I love you and all, but please step out of the kitchen.”

“Are you kicking me out?” If Farley’s face was capable of pouting (it isn’t) that’s what she would be doing. Instead, she scowls.

“Yes, I am,” he nods firmly and starts guiding her toward the hall. He places one hand on Clara’s back and pushes her along with her mother. “And take the fruit of our love with you, please and thank you.”

Diana picks up their daughter and turns, shaking her head, narrowing her striking blue eyes at him. “You turn into quite the dictator when you cook.” A faint smile tugs at the scar-free corner of her mouth.

Wearing the frilly pink apron Bree gave to Farley last Christmas as a ‘joke’ (he almost died for it), fully aware of the flour stains covering from head to toe, Shade throws a half-burnt kitchen towel over his shoulder, then places his hands over his hips. “En casa de herrero, cuchillo de palo.” He declares in a low, almost villainous tone.

Diana laughs and Clara giggles, even though the kid doesn’t understand the meaning of the adage yet. “Are you saying this is on me?!”

“You allowed corruption to fester in your very own kitchen,” he clicks his tongue and sets about finally putting the pasta in the water. “Think about that while you set the table. Thank you, my beloved.” He adds after receiving a warning glance.

Phew, he could’ve been murdered for that. But at least he has the kitchen free now—

The doorbell rings.

Goddammit.

AN: "en casa de herrero, cuchillo de palo" This expression means that when someone is specialized in some work or whatever, it's usual to find that they don't use that knowledge in their house. In English there's one that has the same meaning: the shoemaker's son always goes barefoot.

#ShadexFarley #fade #my fics #red queen

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barid-bel-medar · 3 years

Text

More of a real life ramble than anything else but...

This year has been weird. At the start of the year it did not look like it would be a good one. I’m not going to touch on shit like the Capital Riots, but more in light of the fact I had a goddamn seizure through my medication. That was theorized to be a result of me just being so stressed out over things like the pandemic, and the fact that at that point I’d been out of work since June 2020. Pandemic paranoia to some extent started to drop once both me and my grandma got vaccinated (I qualified pretty early due to the epilepsy; I actually got a weird look when I arrived for my appointment due to how young I am and then mentioned the epilepsy and got an understanding nod). The only good thing was with the Pandemic Unemployment Act for once I qualified for unemployment insurance (since my previous jobs had been contractor positions I didn’t which is BS), since it had been changed so that contractors/temps could qualify. None of my job applications seemed to be working, I was barely getting interviews, and it was just frustrating.

Then one day in March I get an email from an employment agency I’d sent my resume to in the past but never heard from. It was an email to ask me about if I would be interested in a two month temp contract to work at a small bank helping process PPP loans. I said yes, curious and frankly bored if nothing else. To be honest I wasn’t even entirely sure it was legitimate, since that does happen at times. That discussion went well, and I was then set up to do an actual interview with the bank the next morning.

I was given a verbal offer by the bank within five minutes of my interview. Two thirds of my interview was the HR person going over what my specific duties would be. I had the official offer letter in my email the following morning, did all sorts of paperwork, and by Friday of that week I was working at the bank (remotely). Did my one day training, and then started to process loans.

So initially I was on one team, that dealt directly with applicants, and being supervised by someone from the credit division. It seems however, that I was not supposed to be on that team. To some extent it had been a matter of me getting some degree of experience (I assume), but I’d actually been supposed to be on the team run by the head of risk management that dealt with brokers rather than direct clients. My previous supervisor tried to convince HR not to move me in terms of teams (she was very satisfied with my work), even offering up another team member. HR said ‘no’ and the following week (my third week at the bank), I was now on the brokerage team.

Now for that first week my boss actually wasn’t there (he’d been on vacation), and I was under the supervision of the CFO. Lovely man, did enjoy working with him and I get along well with him. Made a few errors, but I picked up quickly what I was doing wrong and fixed it. Actually lead to the semi-irritating aspect of realizing some of the temps/interns who’d been there months still hadn’t picked up some of that shit...But next week my actual boss came back.

First thing Monday morning was a meeting with him. He’d gotten progress reports on me from both the prior supervisors and HR and had been pleased. I’d demonstrated that I could pick things up quickly and fix errors. I was also willing to reach out if I felt I was missing something or needed help. So I chat with him and make the off handed reference to how I was looking for full time, permanent employment. Didn’t really think much of saying it, more was as a forewarning that if I found something I’d take it and likely be leaving very quickly. He got a very interested look at his face, but at that moment didn’t say anything else. It made me wonder, and there had been a part of me already wondering that if I did good enough job with the loans if they’d keep me on long term. I figured though if that did happen, I wouldn’t be asked anything until basically the end of my two month contract.

So here’s what I didn’t realize. My boss had recently convince the bank president to let him hire on an assistant/team member. Previously the bank president didn’t really believe him on just how overworked he was, but PPP (where everyone at the bank basically had to do it on top of their regular duties) made the president realize just how bad it was. So boss now has approval, but hadn’t yet been allowed to post the job.

And that’s apparently where I came in.

Again, I’d been getting praise, demonstrated interest in what my boss’s regular job was, and also had a skill set that could easily be transitioned to doing risk management (my background is in libraries/archives/information governance). I also proved over the course of that week I could easily handle the PPP workload and that again, I picked up new skills easily. I got along well with my boss, and did things also like give him heads up when I thought something was going weird.

So Friday of that week comes, and my boss, maybe a half an hour before my work day was over asks me the question I was not expecting. “What would your expected salary be for a full time position?” Again, I’m figuring even if heard something, I’d be hearing it closer to the end of my contract. Not barely a month into it. I spent the weekend figuring out the salary range I should ask for, asking my sister’s partner what he thought I should ask (he works risk management at a much larger bank but still had an idea on what I should ask for). Monday comes, I give the range, and from there my boss spends like the next two weeks practically chasing down the president to set things up.

Did have to do an ‘interview’ for the job with the CFO and my boss, but honestly the interview with my boss was mostly us chatting about random shit, and the meeting with CFO was more just verifying certain things (also he was nice and took the generous look at my previous work history as ‘they may just like doing short term jobs’ [I in fact very much do not]). A few days later I got my verbal job offer, and a few days after that my official letter. Part of why it took a bit was due to the temp contract and there were some things there apparently. But I now had a full time, perm job that gave me a salary I was very happy with and basically all the benefits I wanted (the only one I didn’t get is tuition reimbursement and I know HR is trying to convince the President and bank owner they should do it too; also I admittedly already have a Masters degree, but depending on how much I like this job [which I am] I may try to do either a Masters of Legal Studies or an MBA).

Part of also why was apparently due to PPP. They didn’t exactly want to transition me over to the permanent job until it was closer to over, which they expected to happen by late month. Then, as some of my may know, PPP ran out of funds faster than expected. My boss and I had chatted about it, but both of us were still expecting at least a week longer than what ended up happening. Which then lead to a different issue at that point; HR wasn’t quite ready for me to do all my paperwork stuff, but since they’d done my offer and the like what ended up happening was I was kept on the temp contract, but started my new duties. Also there was apparently a certain ‘we get hit by a fee’ thing there, if they took a temp ‘too soon’.

In a very technically sense there was still PPP stuff going on. They were starting to set up things like the forgiveness program, and dealing with applicants complaining over rejections or that they had applied and gotten nothing since the funds had run out (and there wasn’t much we could do there). However my boss didn’t want me doing that. He wanted me to focus on figuring out how to do my new job, which meant reading up on a bunch of stuff. Which was nice since I didn’t have to deal with applicant complaints, of which there were a lot.

So I started to transition over to doing risk stuff, learning, training and like experimenting with writing policies and procedural stuff (though looking back at that I still don’t really get why he was having me do that but whatever). He started me doing the real reason he’d hired me in June, doing IT due diligence reviews. The reviews on average take me at least a day and a half (there’s generally a lot of information and I have to read all of it and write up a report). First time I did one he assured me ‘don’t worry if you mess up, this is your first time’. Did it, spent a day or so paranoid, and then we had a meeting to discuss it. Apparently I did it perfectly which delighted him since it meant I could start doing it seriously.

And it’s just been nice. I’m working something I find interesting. I have a boss who has the view of ‘work to live, not live to work’ which he views as an incredibly unhealthy mindset. Meaning if something comes up like say, visiting my parents and I’ve been able to do half days so I can get to their house, including this past Friday (thought that was also partially a result of how messed up public transit due to Ida but that’s a different matter); he actually said I could head out Thursday but since public transit was such a mess it wasn’t viable (my train line was down). Back during PPP the one broker kept annoying him by emailing/calling him at fuck o’clock and not respecting that it was after work hours. My boss also trusts me to attend things like meetings that are with senior management, and I suspect he’s starting to groom me to take over his position (especially based on a comment from last week).

It’s just very weird to realize this year started so shitty, showed no signs it would really get better and yet now all this. And it’s just really nice.

#real life ramblings

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