#family office round table

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[fortglobal]

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[danielwillsmith]

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[tiny-space-platypus]

Everyone sees Danny looks like Tim but I raise you Adult buff as shit, tall as shit, Fenton genetics™, Danny looks like Jason even down to the white tuffs which lead to the most horrified reactions from the Bat family to find a very smiley very well rounded and absolutely no violence Jason just about.

Like,

Dick out and about doing normal daily life shit suddenly sees his brother baby brother 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺. Not dressed how he normally scrolling on his phone. There's a part of Dick that wanted to run up and tackle his brother into a hug because OH DEAR LORD HIS SWEET BABY IS SMILING. He hasn't seen him so happy in so long. Dick snaps a photo and moves on.

Tim heads to his normal coffee before heading into the office. He picks up the coffee (he technically isn't supposed to have) only to stop dead where he is when he sees Jason not only outside of Crime Alley, not only drinking coffee, but tinkering with a little device 𝙞𝙣 𝙥𝙪𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙘. Tim walks over to and sits down in the seat across from Jason. Work can fucking wait, what in God's name is his brother doing in his coffee shop tinkering like a mad man. Tim kicked him pretty hard under the table causing the man to jump and look at Tim which was a weird as fuck reaction for Jason. Till was about to say something when the other man spoke first. "Can I help you?" That- That wasn't Jason's voice. Tim looked at the man in front of him surprised as he looked at the scars on the muscular fake brother. Time then stammered as he took in this man's scars which he had plenty of but taking a closer look they weren't Jason's either. "I- um sorry. I thought you were my brother-" The man just laughed warmly and smiled which was so unnerving from a face that looked almost identical to his brothers. "It's fine man, don't worry about it" Tim put a tracker on him just in case.

That night in the group chat.

Dick: (sends photo of Jason smiling) HE'S SMILING :DDDD

Tim: Is the world ending????

Bruce: (saving the photo of his smiling son)

Jason: THAT'S NOT FUCKING ME. I was in Crime Alley all day but that's creepy.

Babs: Can confirm Jay was in the alley all day.

Bruce: (sad dad deleting photo of fake son)

Part 2

[sen-jou]

Modern Family Room - Open Inspiration for a mid-sized modern open concept travertine floor and beige floor family room remodel with beige walls

[luveline]

I absolutely adore your Spencer x Hotch!sister fics! <3 Can we possibly see the dynamics if it were switched? A Hotch x Spencer's Older Sister fic, pretty please? But no worries if not! Thank you, hope you have a good day!

Was Spencer’s sister always this shy? Hotch can’t remember (and he can’t stop himself from flirting, just a little). fem, 1.4k

“Reid?” Hotch asks. 

Spencer grins at his phone. 

“Reid.” Hotch clears his throat. “Spencer.” 

Spencer puts his phone down on the desk, but he doesn’t seem to have heard Hotch either way. When he realises Hotch is standing by his desk, he perks up. “Hotch, can I ask a favour?” 

Hotch had been about to ask Spencer a favour, but it’s fine. “Sure.” 

“Uh, my sister is supposed to meet me for lunch in half an hour, but she doesn’t really like restaurants and I’m– me. Do you think she could come to the office?” he asks. 

“Sure, Reid. That’s fine, she just needs a visitor card.” 

Hotch can’t remember the last time he saw you. Probably when Reid first started tailing Gideon a few years ago, when you’d made the trip from Vegas to Quantico to see how he was settling. It was a brief introduction, and, while you may possess a few more practical graces than your brother, you were far shyer at the time. You didn’t mind shaking Hotch’s hand, but you struggled to maintain eye contact after. 

You don’t look much like your brother for reasons he’s never cared to ask, as Hotch has never placed much value on how family comes about. He doubts Spencer does either. But you stay in Vegas with your mother, and Spencer sees you three times a year. Birthdays and Christmas. And today, apparently. 

“What’s the occasion?” Hotch asks. 

Spencer smiles again. “I think she’s gonna move here, with me.” 

“Yeah?” Hotch isn’t the prying boss, but he’s a nosy friend. “Everything okay?” 

“Things are great, I mean.” Spencer has the expression of someone deciding what they can and can’t say. Eventually his eyes clear, and Hotch feels satisfied at the realisation that trust has settled tightly between them. “When I decided my mom needed help, Y/N, she hated that, and maybe she resented me, but– I used to worry she hated me, but she doesn’t.” 

“I don’t think she could,” Hotch says easily. 

Spencer nods. Whether he agrees is up for debate, though. “If t’s finally hit her that mom’s sick forever, so she’s feeling out her options.” 

“That must be a hard thing to realise.” 

“Yeah. But things really are great, she’s here now, her stuff is coming tomorrow, and– and maybe she’ll stay for a while.” 

Hotch likes excitement on Reid (when it doesn’t impede their most important work, that is). Truthfully, there’s so much to worry about that Hotch can’t admit to worrying about Reid as much in recent years, and yet he’s relieved to hear that there will be more Reid’s in a hundred mile radius. 

“I’m glad,” Hotch says honestly. “She’s more than welcome here. If she can cope with the photographs in the conference room, the round table is all yours.” 

Hotch retreats to his office and forgets about it for a while, submerged in his own lunch and a certain seven year old’s birthday planning. Jack wants a clown, and a cake with Cars, and he really wants a bounce house. Which is great, but Jack decided he wanted the bounce house last night, and his party is at the end of the week. Hotch makes a bunch of phone calls and finally gets to take a victory lap forty five minutes later. 

He steps out of his office, enticed by the sound of laughter. Spencer laughs like he’s surprised ninety percent of the time, and yours is no different. It’s clear to the listening ear who taught Spencer how to laugh. 

“I love it, I don’t ever want to hear a bad word about it,” you say through peels of it, a breathy, smiley warmth to you as a chair creaks from within the conference room, “and I mean that. Please don’t tell me any facts.” 

“I know so many you’d like to hear!” 

“I don’t doubt it, but please, as a favour? You can tell me about everything else.” 

“Processed cheeses–”

Hotch turns the corner as you put down a sandwich. “Okay, fine. I’m done, are you happy?” you ask, your smile fading into a more polite one as you meet Hotch’s eyes. 

“I didn’t get to say anything.” 

“Some things are better left unsaid,” Hotch says. He doesn’t interrupt, only says it into the quiet, and he doesn’t bother with fanfare. It’s just to alert Spencer of his presence. “Y/N,” Hotch adds, “hello. It’s good to see you.” 

He’s alarmed by your reaction —your eyes widen in your seat, hands hidden beneath your thighs, and your lips part ever so slightly. “Agent Hotchner,” you say softly, almost weakly. 

He’s not that intimidating, is he?

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” he says. 

“You’re not interrupting, I was just telling her about the dangers of processed cheese. They’re so irregularly salty that the sodium has to be marked as a cause of heart disease on FDA approved packaging for the service industry,” Spencer says. 

“I’m sure some every now and then won’t hurt,” Hotch says, attempting to offer you a friendly smile. “Spencer tells me you’re staying here for a while, that’s great. How are you liking the weather? It must be a change from Nevada?” 

You look peculiarly hot. “It’s different,” you agree.

Voices ring from the bullpen. 

Spencer stands up. You stand with him, but Spencer says, “Sorry, is that Morgan? He said I have to go and get him when you’re here.” 

“Spencer–”

Spencer’s already leaving. “He threatened me, actually,” he’s saying, more to himself than either of you as he departs. 

You wring your hands. 

Hotch worries his brows are giving him away. You’re acting strangely, but maybe he’s too much. He is a special agent, sometimes the other parents at Jack’s school get antsy around him like they’re worried he can tell they haven’t paid their last parking fine. Maybe you’ve a secret crime you’ve committed. 

He watches you more closely, to your flustering. 

No crime, Hotch thinks, but a secret. Even from Spencer. 

“So how’s your day, Agent Hotchner?” you ask softly. 

It’s actually quite sweet, the way you say it. Your nerves are cute. 

“Busy.” The expected answer. “I’ve been trying to plan a birthday party between paperwork.” 

“For Jack?” 

He smiles with more gentleness. “Yes, for Jack.” 

“He was, um, a newborn, when we last met. Just a couple of weeks old, I think. How old is he turning now?” 

“Seven.” 

You breathe out. “Wow. Seven years.” 

Seven years, and your crush on him remains. That’s what he’d forgotten —when you visited Spencer at the time, even Gideon had mentioned your frazzled, almost dizzy disposition whenever Hotch was around. And Gideon tended to focus narrowly on work at work, so Hotch had known he wasn’t making it up. 

At the time it had been cute, but awkward too, and infeasible. He’d been dedicatedly married and in love with his Haley. And if he weren’t, your age gap might’ve been a little non-functioning, Hotch well into his thirties, and you a fresh twenty-five. 

Today you’re older, and more beautiful. Something about you has shifted, a blossoming into your features, and Hotch actually has the ability to notice it now. 

Your Spencer’s sister, he remembers suddenly. Probably not a woman he should flirt with, some subtle compliment lost on his tongue. 

“You look the same,” you say. 

He laughs. “That’s kind and untrue. I’m getting old.” 

The look you give him then is a shock and a pit, long the long forgotten twist of butterflies. “No,” you say, looking down at your hands, “I wouldn’t say that.” 

“What would you say?” he asks. 

You’re saved —poor girl, he doesn’t know what he was thinking, you can barely hold your head up— as Morgan bounds up the stairs and into the conference room. He gathers you for a hug as though he knows you better than he does, and Hotch loses sight of your face. 

Unknown to him and unseen, Morgan’s greeting is white noise. Why does he talk like that? you think to yourself desperately. He’s asking you all those questions with this weight to them, and he’s so calm! I’m going back to Vegas. 

“How long are you staying?” Morgan asks. 

You laugh weakly and accidentally catch Hotch’s eye, who smiles at you nicely. 

“Oh, I don’t know. A couple of weeks, maybe.” 

Longer, if you have reason. 

[tame-the-lion-writes]

read kitten baby sister as kitten baby sitter.

so. Imagine if reader had to leave town- maybe just for the weekend maybe for longer- for either work or family reasons. And obviously as much as they want to they just can't take four dogs and a cat with them! So they have to hire a pet sitter to come 'round to feed the animals, change the litterbox, walk the dogs a few times ext.

I feel like the 141 boys would NOT be happy about being BABYSAT!!! How cruel!!! They're grown men!!! (not that you know) They can handle themselves!!!

(This is somewhat similar to another ask by @do-i-look-like-a-doctor so cheers hehe)

Plot Twist: Kate shows up.

Kate's been keeping tabs on them since she noticed them on Halloween, sure, but when she sees a dog-sitting ad to take care of the boys and Baby (TM), she pulls up, no questions asked.

When you're finally out of the house, the boys make up a million excuses as to why they're living as pets--at least, Price does, and Soap backs him up. Gaz kinda just offers a sheepish smile, and Ghost is, as always, silent(--he's stubborn and doesn't want to explain himself). But one collective mistake they've all made is believing that, for the next two weeks you're on vacation, they'll be able to live like normal human beings again. Shower with non-anti-flea soap, use a spoon and fork. Finally use the bathroom with a sense of dignity.

Ooh, but Station Chief Laswell isn't letting them get away that easy.

While the 141 grit their teeth, she promises you thrice-daily updates--which means videos of the boys (and Baby) behaving themselves and being nice to her. Videos of the boys all on a leash, going on walks to the park. Videos of Soap curling up with his plushie; of Gaz playing fetch. Ghost carrying around Baby in his tactical vest. Price eating steak in his designated chair at the dining table. On top of that, there's POV pictures of her petting them and making sure they get all the attention they need(--which is none--it's embarrassing--they're never going to live it down with video evidence).

Of course, you're simply giddy to see that the boys are doing fine--or so you think. By the time you return from your girls trip to wherever, the boys are relieved, yet not exactly stress-free. They side-eye Kate as she waves goodbye with an innocent smile, knowing full well that she's recorded several hours worth of blackmail. And there's no way she isn't putting up pictures in her office.

[jksarchives]

THE SIX STAGES OF A BREAK-UP│ 05

➪ PAIRING; jungkook x reader

➪ GENRE; lovers to strangers, angst

➩ CHAPTER WARNINGS; mention of blood

➪ WC; 12.3k

✎ series masterlist

4. ACCEPTANCE

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

It had been exactly three months since Jungkook came back to your shared apartment to collect the last of his belongings.

Three months since he had permanently walked out of your life, leaving behind the echoes of a ten-year relationship. The ten years together was reduced to a cardboard box.

Even after your outburst, he had been calm, almost detached, as if the decade you shared was merely a chapter he was closing without a second thought or consideration.

You sat at a small, round table outside your office’s café to have your lunch break. You absently stirred your coffee, your mind far from the noise of the busy city around you.

With your other hand, you scrolled through the news on your phone. And your heart sank as you saw the bold headlines finally announcing his wedding.

There was a photo of the happy couple, beaming at each other with an affection that made your stomach churn.

▍“Jeon Jungkook of Jeon Enterprise Marries Childhood Sweetheart — A Perfect Match.”

The article was full of praise for the match, highlighting how their union was a merging of two influential families, and how it had been celebrated as the wedding of the year.

The girl he was marrying wasn’t a stranger to anyone, nor was she someone Jungkook had just met. Aera was her name. She was the daughter of his father’s best friend, a model. She was a woman who was not only successful in her own right but also well-known throughout the country.

Of course you had only just learned that fact as you read through the article.

And, childhood sweetheart?

You couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh, because he had never mentioned this girl in all your years together.

Was he already thinking about her while you were still together? Had he ever really loved you, or were you just a placeholder until the real thing came along?

You felt a pang in your chest, the kind that took your breath away. It wasn’t the sharp, overwhelming pain of the initial breakup; it was more of a dull, persistent throb, like an old injury flaring up.

A part of you had always hoped that Jungkook would come back, that he would realise the mistake he had made in leaving you. But seeing him in that picture, with his arm wrapped around his new wife, that hope finally crumbled into dust.

You felt your eyes sting. For a moment you thought about leaving the café and going back to the office, forgetting about the remaining thirty minutes of your unpaid break.

But you swore to yourself that you wouldn’t cry anymore, that you would be strong.

You were tired — tired of crying, tired of feeling stuck in a place where the past held so much power over your present. You had shed enough tears, spent enough nights questioning yourself and replaying the moments where maybe, just maybe, things could have gone differently.

You wanted to move on. You needed to.

But the truth was, you didn’t know how to move on.

Ten years was a long time to spend with someone, to build a life with them, only to have it all torn away in an instant. And now, to see Jungkook so happy, so quickly after your breakup, it made you feel like everything you had shared meant nothing. Like you had meant nothing at all.

Ten years was a long time — long enough for you to lose yourself in the identity you had both built together.

Who were you without him? What did you want from life now that the future you both planned was no longer an option?

These questions haunted you, leaving you feeling lost and unsure of how to take the first steps toward healing.

You knew that moving on wasn’t something that could be forced. It wasn’t a matter of waking up one day and deciding that you were over him. It was a process, one that would likely be messy and nonlinear.

But as you sat with the news of his marriage, you also realised that you couldn’t stay in this limbo forever. It wasn’t fair to yourself — to the person you had the potential to become.

There would be no easy answers, no quick fixes.

But maybe that was okay. Maybe moving on wasn’t about forgetting him or erasing the past. Maybe it was about finding a way to carry those memories with you while still making space for new ones.

You had spent so much time looking back, trying to understand what went wrong, that you had forgotten to look forward, to consider what might come next.

But you didn’t have all the answers. You weren’t even sure where to start.

Suddenly, the chair opposite you at your table scraped loudly against the tiled floor, jolting you from your thoughts. You didn’t even notice that someone had approached your table. Your focus shifted from the phone in your hand to the man now sitting in front of you.

A soft thud on the table — a plastic wrapped burrito — accompanied his arrival, and you finally looked up, blinking as your mind tried to catch up with reality.

“Thought I’d find you here” the manly voice said.

“Hey there, lost in thought, or are you just admiring my good looks?” Mingyu teased, his voice light and playful.

Despite the ache in your chest, you couldn’t help but crack a small smile.

Mingyu was your best friend who you worked alongside at the office. He was probably the only guy friend you had and trusted the most. Though you only knew him since the beginning of college, you two became inseparable, just like with Minhee.

He always had a way of doing things — breaking through your walls with his easy-going humor. He always knew how to lift your spirits, even on the darkest days.

“Not everything revolves around you, you know” you shot back, trying to match his tone, but your voice wavered slightly.

“Well, it sure does look like it. Have you seen all the ladies trying to get my number at the office?” he playfully smirked to himself as he raised his brow.

You forced a small smile, the corners of your mouth lifting slightly, though your heart wasn’t in it. Mingyu’s timing, as usual, was both impeccable and unfortunate.

You appreciated his attempt to cheer you up, but you weren’t sure if you were ready to be pulled out of the emotional cocoon you had wrapped yourself in just yet.

Still, you didn’t want to seem ungrateful.

Mingyu’s expression softened when he noticed your gloomy mood. He leaned forward as his eyes searched for yours.

“Hey, what’s up?” He asked.

“Just...life stuff,” you replied vaguely, trying to brush it off.

But the effort to sound nonchalant was betrayed by the lingering sadness in your voice. You knew Mingyu would pick up on it — he was more perceptive than he let on.

Mingyu didn’t say anything. He just stared at you, as if his eyes spoke to you, to tell him what was really going on.

You knew better. Likewise Minhee, Mingyu had been there through it all — the breakup, the tears, the late-night phone calls when you couldn’t sleep. He would see right through any mask you tried to put up.

You sighed heavily, knowing there was no use in beating around the bush.

There was a moment of hesitation as your fingers hovered over the screen, as if unsure whether you should share what was weighing on your heart. But this was him. Your best friend. The one person who knew you inside and out, who had seen you at your best and worst, and never judged you for either.

With a quiet breath, you unlocked the phone and slid it across the table towards him. Your eyes averted from the screen, as if it burned you to look at it.

Mingyu picked up the phone, his brows knitting together as he glanced at the screen. The bright display showed the news article you’ve been reading, with a headline that slowly began to make sense. His eyes scanned the words, piecing together the story, and when he finally understood, his frown deepened.

The news was simple enough: a wedding announcement. Your ex-boyfriend, the man you once imagined spending the rest of your life with, was getting married.

He knew this day would come eventually. After all, the engagement had been public knowledge for months. But knowing it and seeing it were two different things. He processed the information, the realisation settling in.

When he looked up at you again, his expression had softened. He didn’t need to ask how you felt, it was written all over your face. You were trying so hard to hold it together, to be strong, but he could see the cracks in your facade, the vulnerability that you rarely showed to anyone.

“Hey,” he softly called out as he placed your phone down.

“You don’t have to pretend with me, okay? I know you’re hurting. You don’t have to keep it all inside” he said.

You let out a shaky breath as you looked up at him, your eyes shining with unshed tears. “It’s not fair, you know? He gets to be happy, and I’m just…I’m still trying to figure out how to be okay” your voice almost came out as a whisper.

Mingyu wanted to say something, anything that would take away your pain. But all he could think about was how much he wanted to punch Jungkook, to make him feel even a fraction of the hurt he had caused you.

The images of him smiling happily in wedding photos, celebrating his new life, filled him with a rage he hadn't felt before. How could he move on so easily? How could he be so happy after everything he had put you through?

“You know what?” he said, his voice hardening.

“He doesn’t deserve to be happy. Not after what he did to you. And the fact that he can just move on like that, like you didn’t matter, like you were just a chapter he could close — that’s on him, not you. It says everything about who he is, and nothing about who you are” his jaw clenched as he spoke.

You smiled weakly, appreciating his words, but still feeling the sting of the news. “I know. I just wish it didn’t hurt so much” you sighed.

There was some silence for a minute or two. While Mingyu kept his gaze on you, you kept your head low to avoid looking at him.

You then shrugged, “but, I guess it’s okay. I mean, it’s been a while…I should be over it by now, right?” you said, unsure of your own words.

But he could see through you. He knew you too well to believe that. The tightness in your voice, the way you couldn't quite meet his eyes, all of it told him that you were far from okay. And that made his blood boil.

He gripped his coffee cup so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

“No Y/n, it’s not okay” he unintentionally snapped, and you looked up at him, surprised by the intensity in his voice. Upon realising his tone, Mingyu sighed.

It wasn't okay. Not to him.

The thought of that man walking away unscathed, while you had to pick up the pieces of your life, was unbearable. He wanted to protect you, to shield you from the pain, but he also wanted to make Jungkook pay for what he had done.

It was irrational, he knew that, but the urge to punch the guy in the face, to wipe that smug smile off his face, was almost overwhelming.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, but the anger still simmered just beneath the surface. “I just...I hate seeing you hurt because of him,” he said, his voice softer now, but still edged with anger.

“It’s not okay for him to give up a ten year relationship and move on so quickly like it was nothing. It’s just so fucked up Y/n, you didn’t deserve any of that” he said.

“Then what do I do Gyu?” you question with a broken voice. It was a question he didn’t really have an answer for, but all he knew was that he couldn’t see you break any more than you already were.

“What I’m saying is, I just want you to remember that none of this is your fault” he began as he reached out to hold your hands.

“You gave him everything — your love, your time, your patience. You did everything you could to make that relationship work. But it wasn’t you who failed. It was him. He was the one who took your love for granted, who thought that after everything you two shared, he could just walk away and start over with someone else. That’s on him, not you” he ranted.

“I hate how you’re questioning yourself over him. You’ve always been more than enough. If anything, he was the one who wasn’t enough for you. He treated your relationship like it was something cheap, something he could trade in for something new. That was his choice, his failure, not yours” he continued.

You looked down at your hands, twisting your fingers together as if trying to wring the pain out of them. You tried to control your tears as you nibbled on your lips hard.

Mingyu couldn’t stand to see you like this, burdened by a guilt that didn’t belong to you. He reached out, gently lifting your chin so you had to meet his gaze.

“You’ve blamed yourself enough, and it has to stop. You gave him your best, and he chose to walk away. That doesn’t mean you weren’t good enough” he assured you.

You knew you had reached a point where you had to accept the truth.

You had to accept that the man you once loved, the man you still loved, had moved on. He had found happiness with someone else, and there was nothing you could do to change that. It was a hard pill to swallow, but deep down, you knew it was the only way forward rather than keep blaming yourself when none of it was your fault.

And you were glad that Minhee and Mingyu were there to remind you about it, while still giving you the space and reassurance you needed.

But acceptance didn’t come easily.

It wasn’t something you could force, and it wasn’t something that happened overnight. It was a slow, painful process of coming to terms with the fact that your life had taken a turn you never expected. The future you imagined was no longer possible, and you had to find a way to make peace with that.

Moving forward seemed impossible, like asking you to walk with broken legs. But you knew that as long as you held on to the past, you would never be able to heal.

Accepting your fate was the first step toward reclaiming your life, even if that life felt empty without him. It meant facing the pain head-on, allowing yourself to grieve not just the loss of him, but the loss of who you had been with him.

“You’ll get through this Y/n, I promise” Mingyu said, and you could only give him a weak smile.

“Minhee and I will always be here for you. And if we need to kick that bastard’s ass, we will gladly do so” his voice firmed, to which you couldn’t help but slightly giggle.

“You’re just looking for an opportunity to beat him up” you told him.

“He hurt my best friend, of course I’d want to beat the shit out of him” he scoffed, picking up his coffee mug and then taking a sip.

You rolled your eyes and grabbed your phone before stuffing it in your bag. “Hurry up, our break finishes in two minutes” you told him, changing the topic. You stood up to leave but waved his hand to stop you as he chugged his coffee.

Finally placing the cup down, he stood up. “Damn, I didn’t even get to eat my burrito” he huffed.

“Too bad, you’ll have to starve for the rest of the day. Now hurry” you said nonchalantly before you began to walk off.

“Rude” Mingyu mumbled with a frown. You knew he was probably going to secretly stuff his face at his desk next to you while using you as a shield from your boss.

┄┄┄┄┄

It was almost 3pm.

You sat at your desk with your back straight, and your eyes glued to the computer. Your fingers moved swiftly over the keys as you navigated through the data you were inputting. The reports had to be submitted by the end of the day, and you were determined to finish everything on time.

Though a lot had happened in your life for the past few months, you managed to step up with your focus. Your focus was razor-sharp, undeterred by the distractions around you — at least for the most part.

Sitting at the adjacent desk, Mingyu was in a state of panic. Though he tried to keep it subtle, his eyes darted nervously around the office as he took rapid, secretive bites from his burrito he was unable to eat earlier.

The aroma of warm grilled meat, beans, and spices filled the corner of the office, making you smirk without even looking up from your screen. Just as you predicted.

Your boss, Mr. Han, was in his glass-walled cabin, not more than twenty feet away. The positioning of the cabin gave him a direct line of sight to most of his employees, and that included the corner where you both sat.

You could hear the rustle of the burrito wrapper, and you knew Mingyu was trying to muffle the sound, which only made it more noticeable in the quiet office.

You finally glanced sideways at him. He was hunched over, pretending to review documents on his desk while quickly cramming the burrito into his mouth. His cheeks were puffed out, and the desperate look in his eyes betrayed the calm he was attempting to project. It was like watching a squirrel trying to hide its food before someone else discovered it.

You sighed, trying to ignore him as you went back to her report.

But the sound of his loud chewing broke through your focus again. You pressed your lips into a thin line.

Seriously?

You darted a glance his way. He was trying to eat quietly, but the rustle of the burrito wrapper and the squelch of sauce made his attempts impossible.

“Can you stop being so loud?” you hissed under your breath as you looked towards him.

Mingyu froze for a second, mid-bite, his cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk. He glanced at you, then at the boss’s office, as if trying to gauge whether he’d been caught. When he realised he was still in the clear, he lowered the burrito slightly.

“What? I’m starving here. I didn’t get to eat...you know, trying to comfort you,” he said with a grumpy frown.

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. You appreciated Mingyu more than you let on, but this wasn’t the time to show it.

You were swamped, and the last thing you needed was to be pulled out of your focus by his lunchtime theatrics.

“Yeah, yeah, thanks for that” you muttered, your eyes going back to focusing on the screen.

“Just finish eating before Mr. Han sees you and writes you up for violating the ‘no food at the desk’ rule” you told him.

Mingyu smirked, suddenly unbothered by the threat. “He’s not going to notice,” he whispered, glancing cautiously toward the boss’s office. “He’s on a call anyway” he added.

“Right, that’s why you’re being a sneaky little rat hiding behind me” you scoffed.

You knew he was probably right. Mr. Han was often too preoccupied with phone calls and meetings to notice the small infractions happening under his nose. Still, you weren’t going to take any chances, especially since you were already on his radar after that rough meeting earlier in the morning.

“It’s just an extra precaution” he argued back.

“Whatever, just be quiet” you said before continuing with your work.

┄┄┄┄┄

It wasn’t until fifteen minutes later that you suddenly felt a wave of dizziness wash over you.

It was subtle at first, a mere flutter that made you blink a few times. But then it grew stronger, a sensation that left you light-headed, as though the ground beneath you was shifting.

Your vision blurred, the sharp black lines of the spreadsheet softening and bending at the edges. You tried to refocus, blinking hard and squinting, but the haze refused to clear.

You shook your head to attempt to clear the fog settling over your mind. A small frown creased your brow as you leaned back in your chair, taking a deep breath.

Maybe it was the stress, or perhaps you hadn’t slept well enough the night before. It was hard to tell, but you had no time for this — there was still so much work to be done.

You rubbed your temples and tried to force yourself to concentrate, your fingers hovering over the keyboard.

Mingyu had noticed your sudden stillness, and the slight fidgeting that followed. He glanced over, and concern immediately knitted his features when he saw you shaking your head and pressing your fingers against your temples.

“Y/n,” he asked softly, his voice laced with worry, “are you okay?”.

You hesitated for a moment, not wanting to alarm him. You hated being the center of attention when you weren’t feeling well — especially in the office. It was just a moment of weakness, you told yourself. Something fleeting.

“I’m fine,” you said, your voice steady but soft. You offered him a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Just a little dizzy, probably need more coffee or something”.

But even as you spoke, you could feel the strange fog lingering. Your mouth felt dry, your throat slightly parched.

You reached for the water bottle sitting on your desk, your fingers wrapping tightly around it as if anchoring yourself to something solid. With a small twist, you opened the cap and took a slow sip, letting the cool liquid soothe your throat.

The dizziness didn’t subside immediately, but the act of drinking water helped you refocus. You could feel Mingyu’s gaze lingering on you, his brows still furrowed. He didn’t seem convinced, but you appreciated that he didn’t press the issue further.

“You sure?” he asked, leaning slightly towards you. “You’ve been working nonstop for hours. Maybe you need a break”.

You shook your head as you capped the bottle and set it back down on the desk.

“It’s alright” you replied, though you weren't quite sure yourself.

Your head felt slightly clearer now, but a nagging sense of unease remained. “I’ll be fine. Just need to get through this report” you told him.

Mingyu gave you a knowing look. “Don’t push yourself too hard, alright?” he said.

You nodded again, “I won’t” you said, offering him a more genuine smile this time.

He gave you one last glance before returning to his work, but you could still feel his concern hovering nearby.

Taking another deep breath, you straightened in your chair and refocused on the screen in front of you. The letters and numbers on the spreadsheet seemed to swim a little less now, but you promised yourself you’d take a real break soon.

Just one more task to finish. Just a little more.

┄┄┄┄┄

The quietness in the office room was interrupted when the main door at the far end of the room creaked open.

You glanced up briefly, your curiosity piqued, but quickly returned your attention to your work, assuming it was a delivery or perhaps a colleague returning from a break.

But there was a sudden shift in atmosphere when a couple walked in. It was more a subtle shift — a collective awareness that whoever had just entered commanded respect, or perhaps a higher level of attention.

Everyone in the room had their attention on them apart from you, who was too immersed in your work.

Mr. Han was the first to react. His head snapped up from his screen, eyes lighting up with a mixture of surprise and enthusiasm.

He quickly stood up, adjusting his suit jacket before striding out of his office with the kind of urgency reserved for someone important. As he approached the couple, his voice took on a tone that was almost worshipful.

“Mr. and Mrs. Jeon! Welcome, it’s a pleasure to see you both” her boss greeted them with a wide, almost courteous smile.

Your fingers froze over the keyboard mid-sentence.

The name hit you like a wave of ice water.

Jeon.

You were frozen completely, your heart skipping a beat as the reality of the situation sank in. Slowly, almost as if you were afraid of what you would find, you turned your head toward the door, your body stiff, unwilling to fully confront the scene.

There, standing tall and composed in the doorway, was Jungkook.

It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. He hadn’t changed much since the last time you saw him — his dark hair still fell slightly over his forehead, and his presence still commanded the room in that subtle, effortless way it always had.

But something about him felt different now. More polished, more distant, like he had moved on in a way you never quite had.

He was looking as smart and composed as ever in a tailored suit, the very picture of success and confidence. And his arm was draped loosely around the waist of a woman with sleek, styled hair and a diamond ring that glittered in the office lighting.

The woman he had just married. Aera.

The two of them looked every bit the perfect couple, a vision of what your life might have been had things gone differently.

But why is he here?

You didn’t expect this. Why would you?

He never mentioned anything about business ties to your company, not during your time together, not even in passing.

Yet, here he was, standing in your office, the place you thought was your own, a separate space from the past you both shared. And worse, he was here as someone important — someone who clearly had a powerful connection to your boss.

“Why is that bastard here?” you heard Mingyu curse under his breath as he shot daggers at the couple. He too had the same question, and was seething with anger as his fists clenched tightly

For a moment, you prayed he wouldn’t notice you. That the busy office, the crowd of people, and the conversations would swallow you whole and spare you from this encounter.

But fate, as always, had a cruel sense of humor.

While Jungkook conversed with your boss, his eyes swept across the room, indifferent, until they finally landed on you.

His smile faltered.

It was subtle, barely noticeable, but you saw it — the moment recognition flickered in his eyes, and the easy, confident smile he wore dipped for just a fraction of a second.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you locked eyes, a torrent of emotions flashing between you in the briefest of moments. His expression softened into something you couldn’t quite read — regret, surprise, or perhaps something else entirely — but it was enough to send your stomach into knots.

And then, as quickly as it happened, the moment passed. Aera turned to him with a smile, completely oblivious to the silent exchange, and he broke the gaze, looking down at her with that same charming smile that once used to belong to you.

Maybe it really was the time to accept that you no longer existed in his life.

You swallowed hard, your hands trembling slightly as they hovered over the keyboard once again. You wanted to disappear, to melt into the background and become invisible.

But the truth was, you were stuck there, at your desk, with nowhere to hide.

As the couple moved further into the room, their attention now on your boss, you allowed yourself one last glance in their direction. There was a strange numbness that settled in your chest as you saw the way he held her, just like he used to hold you.

You turned back to your screen, your vision slightly blurred as you stared at the half-finished report. The words no longer made sense, your concentration completely shattered.

For the first time in a while, you felt like the world had shifted beneath your feet, and all you could do was hold on until the moment passed.

You didn’t want to look at him. And you didn’t want him to look at you. You just seeked an excuse to rid yourselves from each others’ lives now that neither of you had anything to do with each other.

Perhaps it’ll hurt less.

You tried to concentrate back on your work, to ignore his presence, but you felt the wave of nausea and dizziness wash over you again. As you stared at the screen in front of you, the numbers and letters blurred, and you had to blink a few times to steady your vision.

You took a few sips of water, but it didn’t help. If anything, you started feeling worse.

You took a deep breath, trying to shake off the strange haze in your mind. But just as you thought you had gained some control, the dizziness striked again, stronger this time.

Your hands instinctively reached for the edge of your desk, fingers gripping the cool surface as if it were the only thing keeping you harboured to the earth. Your heart began to race, and a cold sweat formed on your forehead.

You felt a gentle nudge against your arm. Startled, you turned your head slowly towards him with unsteady movement. You saw Mingyu looking at you with worry etched on his face.

“Y/n, are you okay? You look really pale” he asked, his voice low and soft.

You forced a small smile, swallowing the unease that was tightening in your chest. “I'm fine,” you lied, your voice sounding weaker than you intended.

But Mingyu wasn’t convinced this time. His eyes scanned her face, noticing the way your shoulders were tense, the slight tremble in your hands as you rested them in your lap. He knew you too well to let it go.

“You don’t look fine to me Y/n. I think you should go home and rest, I’ll let Mr. Han know” he said, but you shook your head.

“G-Gyu, I’m fine, really. Maybe it’s all this screen time. I’ll be fine after a break” you tried to convince him more. You didn’t want to worry him — or worse, be the center of attention in the office especially when he was here.

You were always the one who handled things on your own, the one who didn’t need help. But right now, your body was betraying you, and the more you tried to shake off the dizziness, the more persistent it became.

Slowly, you stood up from your chair, but the moment you did, the dizziness intensified. It was as if the ground beneath you had moved, and you stumbled slightly, your feet feeling unstable.

You reached out instinctively as your hand brushed against the edge of the desk for support. Your heart was racing in your chest as you tried to balance yourself, but your legs felt weaker than they should.

Mingyu was by your side in an instant, his hand hovering near your back, ready to catch you if you fell. “Whoa, careful there,” he said worriedly, “you sure you’re okay?” he asked.

You nodded, though your confidence in your own balance was shaky at best. “Yeah, just a little off-balance. I’m fine, really. I’m going to go to the restroom” you told him. Mingyu nibbled on his lip, nervous to let you go alone in this condition. But he nodded anyway.

As you took your first step toward the restroom, you weren’t so sure whether you’d even make it to the restroom before you faint.

Each step felt heavier than the last, as though your body was moving through water, and your mind was struggling to keep up with the physical effort.

The dizziness swirled around you, making your surroundings feel longer to walk through than it was. The fluorescent lights overhead were too bright, it was making everything even worse.

You were barely halfway across the office when you felt it — a warm, wet sensation on your upper lip.

You paused mid-step, frowning in confusion. Slowly, your hand reached up to touch your nose. And when you pulled your fingers away, they were smeared with bright red blood.

A nosebleed.

Your dizziness deepened, and a sense of vertigo overtaking you. You blinked a few times to try to ease yourself, but the room was spinning now, the walls closing in.

You didn’t have time to process the blood, the dizziness, or the sudden overwhelming feeling of vulnerability. Your body felt lighter, like you were losing control of your limbs.

Suddenly, your foot misstepped, and you staggered, causing her body to tilt forward. Before you could register what was happening, you collided with something solid — a hard chest.

You gasped, and your vision was swirling as you tried to regain your footing, but your legs gave out beneath you. You were falling.

But then, just as quickly, you felt a strong pair of arms catch you. They wrapped around you firmly and steadily, preventing you from hitting the floor.

For a moment, you leaned into the embrace, the warmth and strength unfamiliar yet comforting in your current state of weakness. Your breaths were shallow, and your vision blurred further as you tilted your head back, trying to see who had caught you.

Through the haze, your blurry vision settled on a familiar face, the lines of his jaw and the shape of his unmistakable big doe eyes.

Your breath hitched in your throat. Your heart pounded in your chest for a different reason now.

It was him.

The man who had broken your heart not so long ago, the one you had spent months crying over. And here he was, holding you in his arms as if the past hadn't shattered you.

“I’ve got you,” Jungkook whispered softly, his voice cutting through the fog in her mind.

His expression shifted from surprise to alarm as he noticed the blood trickling down from your nose. “What the hell—?” his arms tightened around you to keep you upright.

“Y/n! Fuck your nose is bleeding!” his voice was sharp with worry.

The world around you continued to spin, your body weak from the dizziness. Your mind raced with a flood of emotions — confusion, anger, and something you didn’t want to acknowledge, relief.

But the last thing you wanted was his help.

Desperately, you tried to push him away, to pull yourself from his grip. The humiliation of being caught in such a vulnerable state — by him of all people — was almost worse than the dizziness.

You needed to get away, to be anywhere but in his arms.

“I’m fine,” you mumbled, trying to sound stern and cold. But your voice came out weak and shaky, betraying you.

You attempted to take a step, but your legs wobbled as they refused to cooperate. Your body was betraying you now, too. No matter how much your mind screamed at you to move, your limbs wouldn’t obey.

The dizziness surged again, threatening to pull you under. You swayed, and his grip on you tightened as he pulled you closer, his breath warm against her ear.

“You’re not fine,” he murmured, his tone firmer now. His hand moved to the back of your head, gently supporting you.

But his touch burned.

The comfort of his arms turned to ice. Anger surged through you, fueled by the hurt you had buried deep inside, hurt you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel fully until this very moment.

You tried to push him away with your palms weakly pressing against his chest, but your body betrayed her once again, too weak to follow through.

“Don’t touch me,” you croaked, your voice raspier than you intended, more vulnerable than you wanted it to be. You tried again, harder this time, but your knees trembled, and you swayed unsteadily.

“Y/n, you're not okay. Let me—” he started, worriedly trying to reach for you again.

“I said don’t!” your voice cracked, but your anger flared stronger.

You couldn’t stand the concern in his eyes, the worry that once would have comforted you but now only reminded you of the pain he had caused.

You didn’t want his help, not now, not ever again.

You’re finally coming to accept that he broke your heart. You’re finally coming to accept that he had fallen in love with another woman who apparently made him happier than you.

You’re finally coming to accept the fact that he’s not yours anymore. Maybe he never was.

But as much as you wanted to move away from him, your body refused to cooperate. The dizziness was overwhelming now, the room spinning so violently you could barely keep your eyes open.

The blood continued to drip from your nose, a warm trail sliding over your upper lip. Your vision dimmed again, the edges darkening even more than before.

Jungkook could only stare at you with hurt flashing in his eyes and his heart dropping to his stomach.

His face remained blurred to you but his voice sounded closer, “please let me help you, you’re bleeding Y/n” he sounded desperate and panicky.

You clenched your teeth, feeling frustration and exhaustion battling within you. You wanted to yell at him, tell him to leave you alone, but the words wouldn’t come.

No matter how much you resisted, the dizziness was overwhelming your senses, pulling you further down into darkness. You tried to fight it, but your vision grew blurrier, your limbs heavier, until you couldn’t fight anymore.

Eventually, your body slumped against Jungkook’s chest as consciousness slipped away from your grasp.

“Y/n!” his voice was loud and panicked which caught the attention of everyone in the room. His arms tightened around you, catching you before you could hit the floor.

“Y/n, hey, stay with me!” he shook you gently, but your head lolled against his chest, unresponsive.

From the corner of the room, a chair scraped harshly against the floor, and Mingyu appeared in an instant, rushing towards you both. His face twisted with concern yet anger as he took in the sight of you in Jungkook’s arms, unconscious and nose bleeding.

“Y/n! Y/N!” his voice cut through the haze of unconsciousness, filled with panic.

Without hesitation, he shoved Jungkook away, his expression fierce as he crouched beside you. “Get the hell away from her!” he barked, feeling his protective instincts kicking in.

Jungkook stumbled back , and his arms fell uselessly at his sides as he stared, wide-eyed, at your pale, bleeding form. Mingyu didn't spare him a second glance.

“Y/n? Y/n, come on, wake up,” Mingyu muttered urgently, gently pulling you into his arms. His hands trembled as he brushed your hair away from your face, wiping at the blood that was still trickling from your nose. Panic filled in his chest, and his heart was racing uncontrollably. Your skin was cold, and you weren’t responding.

“Mingyu” Jungkook began, stepping forward, his voice shaking. But Mingyu shot him a glare that could have stopped anyone in their tracks.

"I said back. off.” he gritted his teeth. He didn’t care that he was superior to your boss, he’ll always be the bastard who shattered his best friend’s heart and dreams.

Everyone in the office stopped what they were doing as they watched the scene unfold with shock and disbelief. The murmur of whispers filled the room, but Mingyu couldn’t focus on any of it. His only concern was his best friend, who lay unmoving in his arms.

“Somebody call an ambulance!” he yelled into the open office space, his voice breaking with fear.

In the chaos that followed, Jungkook took a hesitant step forward, reaching out as if to help, but Mingyu’s glare stopped him cold. “Don’t you dare,” he hissed. “You’ve done enough”

His words stung, but Jungkook remained frozen, torn between the guilt weighing on his heart and the reality of what was happening. All he could do was watch as the woman he once loved lay unconscious, bleeding and vulnerable.

The office, which had fallen eerily silent, suddenly erupted into action. A few co-workers rushed to call for help while others watched the scene unfold, frozen in shock.

As the seconds ticked by, Mingyu held you tight, refusing to let go. He glanced down at your pale face, brushing his thumb gently over your cheek.

“You're going to be okay Y/n. I swear it,” he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

Seconds later, Mr. Han appeared from his office along with Aera. Both their faces were masked with confusion as they heard the commotion.

“What’s going on here?” Mr. Han asked as he arrived at the scene. He glanced at your unconscious with wide eyes before they glanced at the two men, trying to piece together what had happened.

But Mingyu didn’t answer. All he needed to hear was that the ambulance was on its way. And to his mild relief, someone stepped in. “The ambulance is coming” the man told him

Aera’s eyes flickered between Mingyu, you, and Jungkook, who was still standing frozen, his face pale. He had drops of your blood on his light blue shirt.

A knot of unease tightened in her stomach as she glanced at him, noting the way he was staring at you. She had always sensed there were unresolved feelings between the two of you, and now, in this moment of crisis, those feelings seemed to hang in the air like a thick cloud.

“Jungkook?” her voice was low, but it broke the silence that had engulfed him. He blinked, his expression shifting as though he had just realised where he was. He looked at her, but there was a flicker of guilt in his eyes. It was subtle, but it was there.

“H-Huh?” he unknowingly stuttered.

“You okay?” she asked as she walked over to him, her hand reaching out to hold him. Jungkook gave her a nod to reassure her, but she saw the way he anxiously swallowed a thick lump.

After what felt like hours, the sound of the sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder as the ambulance approached.

Two paramedics rushed in, kneeling beside you as they swiftly began their assessment. One of them gently lifted your wrist, feeling for a pulse, while the other checked your vitals. The room was eerily silent, everyone watching with bated breath.

“Her pulse is faint,” one of the paramedics said, glancing at his partner with urgency. “We need to move fast”.

Mingyu’s grip on your hand tightened, his eyes wide with fear. “Is she going to be okay?” his voice was barely above a whisper, but the question hung heavy in the air.

The paramedic didn’t answer right away. Instead, they moved with precision, placing an oxygen mask over your face. “We’ll do everything we can,” he finally said, his tone calm but serious.

Jungkook’s heart sank. He had been hoping for better news, but the severity of the situation was now clear. The paramedics moved quickly, placing you on a stretcher and preparing to take you to the hospital.

As they strapped you in, Jungkook’s heart finally broke free from the chains that had held him frozen in place. His pulse raced, his palms sweating.

For all the hurt between you, for all the bitterness you harbored towards him after he had shattered your relationship, he still cared about you deeply.

His feet moved before his mind caught up, and suddenly he was following the paramedics, his mind a blur of guilt and fear. His eyes locked on you as the paramedics wheeled you towards the door. He couldn’t let you go like this, not without doing something.

“I’m going with her,” Jungkook said, his voice breaking as removed himself from Aera’s hold and moved to follow the paramedics out the door.

Before he could take another step, Mingyu blocked his path. His eyes, usually kind, were sharp with fury as he shoved Jungkook back. “Stay away from her,” Mingyu snapped, his voice low and dangerous.

Jungkook stumbled, taken aback by the force of Mingyu’s words. He opened his mouth to protest, to explain, but he saw the raw emotion on Mingyu’s face — the fear, the protectiveness, the anger. It stopped him cold.

“This isn’t about you, Jungkook” Mingyu continued, his voice tight with emotion. “She doesn’t need you anymore. You lost that right”.

Jungkook clenched his fists, his heart pounding in his chest. He wanted to argue, to say that he still cared, that he didn’t want anything bad to happen to you.

“I need to go with her Mingyu” Jungkook said, his voice trembling but determined. “I still care about her” he added.

Mingyu’s face twisted in disbelief and fury. “You care about her?” he repeated, his voice dripping with contempt. “You broke her heart. You don’t get to care about her now” he snapped.

There were audible gasps within the room, followed by hushed whispers, but it was the last thing Jungkook cared about. He stood still, his eyes pleading, “Mingyu, please…” he looked at the man with glossy eyes.

But Mingyu’s rage flared. “No. You’re not going to do this. Not now. She doesn’t need you. I’m here for her” he told him.

No matter how much it hurt for him to admit, Mingyu was right. He had lost his chance with you long ago. And now, all he could do was watch as the paramedics loaded you into the ambulance, Mingyu by your side, while he stood on the curb, helpless.

For a moment, the two men stood there, locked in a silent battle of wills. Mr. Han watched tensely, while Aera stood off to the side, her face a mixture of shock and something unreadable as she glanced at her husband.

The tension in the air was heavy, and the seconds ticked by as the paramedics wheeled you out the door, your life hanging in the balance. Mingyu shot Jungkook a last glare before running off to follow the paramedics.

┄┄┄┄┄

As the ambulance doors shut with a heavy thud, Mingyu rushed to his car, his hands shaking as he fumbled for his keys.

His thoughts were racing in his mind. He knew something was wrong with you, but never thought it would be this serious. What if something happens? He cursed himself for panicking but couldn’t stop the rush of fear choking him.

Once behind the wheel, he followed closely behind the ambulance. His phone vibrated in the passenger seat, but he ignored it. Instead, he grabbed it and quickly dialed the one other person who might understand the terror he felt — Minhee.

Minhee picked up after the second ring. “Hey Gyu, what’s up?” her voice was light, oblivious to what was happening. Mingyu’s breath hitched in his throat, and the words tumbled out in a broken rush.

“It’s Y/n. Minhee she’s — she’s in the ambulance right now. She collapsed at work. There was blood, a nosebleed...I don’t know what happened. I’m following them to the hospital, but I’m scared. I’m really scared” his voice cracked, the enormity of the situation pressing down on him.

There was silence on the other end for a moment, as if Minhee was processing what he’d just said. “Oh my God. I’m on my way. I’ll meet you there. Just — please stay calm, okay?” she said

“I — I’ll try,” he mumbled, his vision blurred by the tears welling up in his eyes. He could barely focus on the road, but somehow, he managed to follow the flashing lights of the ambulance.

After the call ended, he tried to calm his breathing. His fingers tightened around the steering wheel as he continued following the ambulance. Every mile felt like eternity to him, but all he hoped right now was that the paramedics were doing what they could to stabilise your health.

After a few agonising minutes, the hospital finally came into view. As soon as the ambulance stopped, Mingyu parked his car haphazardly in the nearest space, not caring about the lines, and sprinted to the emergency entrance. He saw them wheeling you inside, your body still motionless, and for a moment, the sight nearly crippled him.

“Wait!” he called after them, his voice strained with desperation, but they were already through the double doors.

He started towards the entrance, but a nurse stepped in front of him, gently stopping him with a hand raised in a placating gesture. “I’m sorry, sir, you’ll have to wait out here. We’ll take care of her,” she said, her tone firm but not unkind.

He felt on the verge of breaking down, his heart screaming at the idea of waiting while his best friend was somewhere inside, possibly fighting for her life. His legs wobbled beneath him, and he stared at the nurse, his eyes wide and pleading.

“Please, take care of her. I can’t lose her” he begged, his voice choked with tears.

The nurse’s expression softened as she looked at him. “She will be okay, I promise,” she told him, before stepping through the doors, leaving him standing alone in the sterile, brightly lit waiting area.

Mingyu slumped onto one of the metal chairs in the hallway, burying his face in his hands. His whole body shook as the adrenaline and fear coursed through him.

Every scenario imaginable ran through his mind, each one worse than the last. He knew you were neglecting yourself ever since Jungkook broke up with you. You were improving but he knew at one point you were going to reach your breaking point.

What if it was something serious? What if they couldn’t help you? He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.

A sudden wave of dizziness hit him, and he realised he hadn’t taken a proper breath in what felt like hours. With trembling hands, he pulled his phone from his pocket and messaged Minhee of the hospital he was at.

After a while, the doors to the waiting area swung open and Minhee rushed in. Her eyes scanned the room frantically until they landed on Mingyu, and she immediately sprinted toward him.

“Mingyu!” she cried.

Mingyu noticed her presence and stood up almost instantly, “Minhee” he whispered, his lips quivering. Minhee threw her arms around him the moment she reached him.

He hugged her back just as desperately, his hold tightening as if letting go would make the situation worse. “I don’t know Minhee. She hasn't been feeling well ever since we returned from our lunch break” he began.

“She was going to the restroom, and the next moment, she just collapsed,” he explained as best as he could. Tears stung at the corners of his eyes, and he buried his face in her shoulder, clinging to the only comfort he had in this moment.

Minhee sucked in a shaky breath as she pulled away. She sat down on the chair and pulled him down too. As much as she was worried sick too, one of them had to stay strong and hope for the best.

“She’ll be okay, let’s stay strong, hmm?” she patted his back.

Mingyu nodded, but he couldn’t stop the tears that began to fall freely. Minhee wrapped her arm around his shoulders, trying to be strong for him, but she was scared too. And she knew — of course, she knew — why this was hitting him so hard.

It wasn’t a secret between them. It wasn’t just because you were his best friend — Mingyu loved you.

He had for years, though he had never quite mustered the courage to tell you.

Minhee had always known. She could see it in the way he looked at you, the way he always put you first. The thought of something happening to you was unbearable for both of them, but for Mingyu, it was like his entire world was falling apart.

They had talked about it once, a while ago, when he couldn’t keep it bottled up any longer. Minhee had been the one to listen, to support him, even though they both knew you didn’t feel the same way. At least not when you had Jungkook in your life.

You had always been oblivious, treating Mingyu with the same kind of warmth and affection you gave all to your close friends.

And yet, even knowing that, it hadn’t stopped him from falling for you.

But as Mingyu sat silently, something else stirred inside him. Beneath the fear was another emotion, one that burned hotter and sharper: anger.

“That fucking bastard” he gritted his teeth, his fists tightly clenching.

“What?” Minhee frowned in confusion.

Mingyu heaved out a loud annoyed sigh as he leaned back against the chair, throwing his head back. “Jungkook,” he began, “we don’t know what ties he has with our company, but he came today, with his fucking wife” he continued.

His mind began to replay the events of that lunch break earlier in the day, the last time he and you had talked.

It was only when Jungkook had appeared — with Aera — that your mood had completely shifted. You weren’t feeling well to begin with, but his sudden appearance seemed to worsen your symptoms.

“Can you believe he had the nerve to tell me he still cared about her and wanted to follow me to the hospital?” he huffed, “but I didn’t let him”.

Minhee scoffed, folding her arms against her chest, “he’s lucky I wasn’t there, or I would’ve kicked his ass” she said.

“You don’t know how badly I wanted to break his jaw right then and there, Minhee,” he groaned.

He couldn’t get the image out of his mind, the way your face dropped when you saw Jungkook, the way he was holding his wife, and the way you were pretending like it wasn’t affecting you.

Mingyu had hated Jungkook, he hated the way he still held power over you, even though your relationship had ended long ago and you were trying to come to terms with the fact that you and him were no longer a thing.

The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. He wanted to scream at the injustice of it all. How could someone like him — someone who had hurt you so deeply — be allowed to waltz back into your life, throwing you off balance again? And with his perfect, picture-perfect life in tow.

It wasn’t fair.

His breathing quickened as the anger built inside him, mixing with the helplessness he was already feeling.

Minhee seemed to notice and placed a hand on his arm. “Hey,” she said softly, “you look like you’re about to explode, calm down” she told him.

He shook his head, trying to steady himself, but the emotions were too strong. “I just...I can’t stand him, you? After everything he’s done” he muttered, his voice thick.

“Me neither, but right now we need to focus on Y/n, okay? She needs us” she said as she gave his arm a gentle squeeze.

Her words were like cold water dousing the flames of his anger, and he nodded, taking a deep breath.

She was right. He needed to be strong right now, for you, not consumed by hatred for someone who didn’t matter anymore. What mattered was that you were going to be okay. You had to be.

┄┄┄┄┄

The second you slowly began to regain your consciousness, the sterile smell of the ward welcomed you.

You blinked a few times, trying to clear your vision and make sense of your surroundings. The room was white — too white — and the lights overhead were painfully bright, making you squint.

When your vision slightly stabilised, your eyes scanned around the room. The walls were decorated with a few abstract paintings, likely meant to make the sterile environment feel a bit less clinical.

Then you noticed the tubes connected to you by an IV drip, and a heart monitor was attached to your chest. The soft beeping of the monitors were persistent and it was starting to get annoying.

You tried to sit up, but the weight of your body resisted your efforts, forcing you back down against the pillows.

It was as if your limbs had forgotten how to work, and the smallest movement sent waves of weakness coursing through your body.

Your hands trembled slightly as you reached up to touch your forehead, and you could feel the light sheen of sweat there. Your head felt like it weighed a hundred pounds.

You felt disoriented, as if you were floating somewhere between consciousness and an inescapable void. Everything was a haze.

You blinked slowly, trying to piece together how you had ended up here. Your heart pounded in your chest as fragments of memories started to drift back, like broken pieces of glass coming together to form a jagged reflection.

The last thing I remember...you thought.

Then it hit you like a sudden jolt.

You remember feeling dizzy and lightheaded, a sharp, searing pain blooming in your head. You remembered making your way to the restroom when suddenly your nose started to bleed.

And then, Jungkook’s face swam in your memories, remembering how you bumped into him. You remember losing your balance, but he caught you just before you fell backwards and almost smashed your head against the nearby desk.

You remember his worried face, and him trying to help you, but you recoiled at his touch and pushed him away. All you knew at that moment was that you didn't want him near you, not anymore.

But then what?

Your head throbbed as you tried to recall. The nosebleed, the dizziness, the world spinning uncontrollably. After that, there was nothing. Just darkness.

Now, here you were, lying in a hospital bed, alive but barely functioning. Your body felt foreign, heavy like lead, and your mind was still clouded with confusion.

You tried to move your fingers, to test if you still had control over your limbs. Slowly, shakily, your fingers twitched, and you exhaled in relief.

Just then, the door creaked open, and a nurse entered the room. She smiled gently as she approached the bed, clipboard in hand.

“You're awake,” the nurse said with a soothing voice.

“How are you feeling?” she then asked.

You swallowed, feeling your throat dry and scratchy. “Weak,” you managed to croak out.

“As expected, your blood pressure was very high” she sighed, “have you been eating and drinking well?” she then questioned.

The question lingered in the air, and you didn’t respond. Your lips parted slightly, but no words came out.

What were you supposed to say? That you hadn’t cared enough to take care of yourself? That food felt like an unnecessary burden? That since the breakup, you had barely had the will to get out of bed most days, let alone nourish your body?

The silence stretched, uncomfortable but truthful.

The nurse waited for a moment, her expression softening as if she could sense your unspoken troubles. “It's important to take care of yourself, you know. Your body needs it so you can function” she told you.

You nodded again, still silent.

How could you explain that your mind had become your worst enemy in the past few months? Ever since the breakup, your life had unraveled in a slow, agonising way.

At first, it was just the small things — forgetting meals, skipping showers, neglecting your apartment. But then it grew worse. Days would go by where you wouldn’t eat anything at all, surviving on coffee and maybe a piece of toast if you could stomach it.

You had lost weight, felt your energy drain away, but none of it seemed to matter. There was a hollowness inside you, and you didn’t know how to fill it.

Yet, despite your own self-destructive spiral, there were moments of light. Minhee and Mingyu had refused to let you drown. They showed up, even when you ignored their calls.

They dragged you out of bed when you had no will to move. It was their gentle yet firm hands that had begun to pull you back from the edge, slowly helping you to rebuild your routines, though the pain of the heartbreak still lingered.

When the nurse left the room, you stared at the ceiling again, your mind replaying the last few months in pieces. The pain of the breakup still lingered, but you knew you couldn’t live like this forever.

The first step to healing was acceptance.

You had to accept that you had to continue your life without Jungkook.

He loved someone else, and was now married — you had to accept that. You had to accept that he was no longer part of your life, that he wasn’t the soulmate the universe had made for you.

Your thoughts were interrupted when the door opened again. With your vision now more steady and clearer, you turned your head towards the door.

Minhee and Mingyu.

“Y/n” Minhee gasped, rushing to your bedside. Mingyu wasn’t far behind, his eyes already glassy with tears. They moved as if they had been holding their breath for hours, waiting for this moment.

You watched the way their faces flooded with relief seeing you awake. As they both sped towards you, you noticed that Mingyu’s eyes were red and puffy, like he had been crying for hours. His bright and easygoing demeanour was nowhere to be found. Minhee on the other looked equally worn. Dark circles marred her eyes, her face pale and drawn like she hadn’t slept all night.

“Oh my god, you’re awake” Minhee whispered as she reached you.

“Do you have any idea how worried we’ve been? You scared the hell out of us” she said, her voice breaking. All you could do was give her a weak hum, your eyes giving her a silent apology.

Mingyu stood on the other side of you, his hand hovering over yours as if he wasn’t sure whether he should touch you or not. His eyes, still bloodshot, were filled with a sadness that tugged your heart.

“Are you feeling okay now?” he asked, trying his best not to break down.

You turned to him and gave him a gentle smile before nodding, “I’m fine Gyu” you told him.

Silence engulfed the room for a minute or two, until he broke it. “You scared the hell out of me,” he choked out. His usual calm composure was slowly crumbling, and it was clear from the way his shoulders trembled.

“I—” his voice broke, and he took a step back, running a hand through his hair, trying to regain some control over his emotions. “I thought something happened to you” he breathed out.

Your eyes softened in guilt. You scared him — really scared him. “I’m sorry” you said with your hoarse voice.

You reached out and grabbed his hand, your fingers cold against his warmth. “I'm so sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you, but I'm fine now, really” you reassured him.

You swallowed hard, feeling your chest tighten. You sat up slowly though your muscles protested the movement, but you pushed through the discomfort.

Mingyu saw you struggle, and quickly moved to help you sit up. “Hey, take it easy” he said softly.

“I’m fine,” you lied, managing to prop yourself up with a pillow behind your back. But the truth was, you felt anything but fine. Your body was weak and your head was still spinning.

“How long have I been here?” you then asked.

“It’s almost 8a.m. right now, so you’ve been out since 4p.m. yesterday” Mingyu replied.

Your eyes widened. That was almost twenty hours. But it felt like you had blinked and woken up in a different reality. “Fuck” you mumbled under your breath.

“It’s okay though, you needed that long rest” Minhee said, patting your shoulder.

“I know, I just…” you sighed, trailing off.

“You have to start taking care of yourself more Y/n. I know you’re trying but, we don’t want to see you in this condition again” she worriedly said, taking your hand in hers.

“Okay nurse” you weakly chuckled, trying to lighten up the dull mood in the room.

Minhee couldn’t help but roll her eyes, “I’m being serious Y/n” she deadpanned, shutting you up almost instantly.

“I know, I know. I’ll do better, I promise” you told her.

“We just care about you Y/n, a lot. We just don’t want you to lose yourself in the dark when you have us to support you” Mingyu spoke up.

You weren’t used to being vulnerable, but maybe that was what you needed most right now — to let yourself be vulnerable, to lean on the people who loved you instead of carrying the weight of everything alone. You realised that if you were ever going to heal, you couldn’t do it alone. You needed your friends, the people who had always been there for you.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you guys,” you whimpered. You were grateful for them, truly, and you couldn’t imagine your life if they weren’t your best friends.

“You don’t have to find out,” Minhee replied with a smile. “We’re here. Always” she said.

“Thank you” you sniffed, wiping your eyes.

It wasn’t until one of the nurses came in to give you your breakfast that interrupted your conversation. For a moment your attention went to the tray of food that sat on the table next to you. The bland, unappetizing smell was enough to make your stomach turn.

“I can’t believe they expect you to eat this stuff,” Mingyu said, wrinkling his nose. “It looks like it was left out overnight”.

He knew you too well.

You chuckled weakly, “I know. I was hoping it wouldn’t be as bad as it looks, but I’ve been too scared to even try it. Honestly, I think I’d rather starve” you frowned, eyeing the meal with distaste.

Minhee chuckled softly, “yeah, hospital food is notoriously bad” she said.

“Say no more,” Mingyu replied, standing up with a grin. “I’ll head to the canteen and get you something edible. Anything in particular you’re craving?” he asked.

Your eyes lit up, and you smiled at him gratefully. “Anything that doesn’t look like…that,” you said, pointing to the tray. “I trust your judgment”.

Mingyu gave a mock salute. “One gourmet meal coming up” he winked at you and waved to Minhee as he walked out of the room, leaving the two of you alone.

“Such a goofball” Minhee giggled, and you couldn’t agree more.

You and Minhee talked amongst each other for a while. And after a few minutes, the door swung open, and Mingyu reappeared with a grin on his face. He held up a brown paper bag and a bottled drink, stepping toward your bed like a hero returning from a quest.

“Ladies, I have returned bearing gifts,” he announced.

You sat up a little with a flicker of anticipation crossing your face. “Please tell me it’s not worse than the hospital food” you looked at him.

Mingyu pulled out a neatly wrapped sandwich and a small side salad. “I bring you a chicken Caesar sandwich and the finest salad this hospital has to offer”. He placed the meal on the table beside your bed, along with a bottle of iced tea.

You eyed the food with cautious excitement, “you really outdid yourself Gyu. I actually think this is…edible” you said.

Mingyu feigned a bow, “my culinary expertise knows no bounds” he said with a proud smile on his face.

Minhee smiled as you gingerly unwrapped the sandwich and took a tentative bite. You chewed thoughtfully before nodding, “okay, not bad. Definitely better than whatever they served me over there” you spoke out. You had no idea what exactly it was but it was certainly not appetising at all and you’d rather starve than eat that.

The three of you then continued to talk for what felt like hours, catching up with things that you had missed while you were out cold, or of random topics that Minhee and Mingyu forgot to talk to you about.

But there was an elephant in the room, a subject none of you wanted to touch: Jungkook. It was almost laughable how carefully you all danced around the subject, considering how central he had been in your life for so long. Although, you were kind of grateful that they didn’t bring him up. The thoughts of him for the past few months had caused you enough heartbreak.

┄┄┄┄┄

Jungkook walked into the house and closed the front door behind him with a soft but heavy thud. The faint light in the hallway illuminated his furrowed brow and the dark circles forming beneath his eyes.

His heart was still pounding, and it wasn’t just from the hurried drive home. His mind was racing, entangled in a mess of emotions that he couldn’t easily shake.

He was only supposed to a business meeting, expecting nothing more than the usual pleasantries and discussions about growth strategies with his collaborator. But the moment he saw you, his entire world had tilted on its axis.

You weren’t supposed to be there. Or at least, he didn’t expect you to work at his collaborator’s company.

The image of your pale, bloodied face was burned into his memory. The soft thud of your body against his chest had sent his protective instincts into overdrive. He had acted out of reflex, cradling you, trying to call for help.

But before he could do anything, Mingyu had rushed over, his eyes blazing with anger and disgust.

His heart clenched again at the memory of that moment. He had wanted to stay, to make sure you were alright, but the hostility in Mingyu’s eyes had left him feeling powerless and ashamed. He knew he lost the right.

He loosened the tie around his neck with shaking hands, pulling it off and throwing it onto the couch. His skin felt too tight, like his clothes were suffocating him.

He stood in the middle of his living room with panic that had followed him home. His mind swirled with questions: Were you alright? Was it something serious?

He barely noticed Aera watching him from the other side of the room, her arms crossed, her lips pressed into a thin, angry line. He was too caught up in his unrest to sense the storm brewing in her.

But she saw everything — the tension in his shoulders, the worry etched into his features, the way his hands trembled slightly as he ran them through his hair. It was all too obvious.

And she hated it.

She had been there, too. She had seen you collapse. She had seen the way he reacted, how he had rushed to catch you as if some instinct still bound you both together. And she had seen something in his eyes that had made her stomach turn. It wasn’t just concern. It was something deeper, something she thought she had banished from his heart long ago.

Finally, unable to stand it any longer, Aera stepped forward, her voice cold, tinged with a bitterness that she could no longer suppress.

“Why are you so worked up about her? You broke up with her, remember?” she snapped.

Her words cut through the air like a knife, and he stopped mid-stride, his body freezing as if struck by a blow. Slowly, he turned to face her, his eyes dark with something raw — anger, regret, pain — all bundled together, swirling dangerously beneath the surface.

Aera recoiled slightly, startled by the intensity of his glare. She had expected guilt, perhaps even an apology for how distracted he had been the entire evening, but not this. Not pure, unfiltered rage.

And when he spoke, his voice was hoarse, almost a growl.

“Of course I remember,” he spat, his voice low, trembling with barely contained fury. “It’s not like I had a choice, did I?” he glared at her, slowly taking a step towards her.

“What do you mean?” she frowned, instinctively taking a step back, “you ended it with her, you chose me” she reminded.

He scoffed, a harsh, humorless sound escaping his throat as he raked a hand through his hair, the strands standing on end with the force of his agitation.

“Chose you?” he repeated, his voice louder now, almost incredulous. “I didn’t choose anything. You think I wanted to end things with her?” he questioned rhetorically.

Aera’s breath caught, her stomach knotting as the room seemed to tilt for a moment. She had never heard him speak like this before, about you, or anything related to either of your past.

His words were barbed, tinged with a depth of emotion she hadn’t anticipated. Her jealousy flared anew, but now it was mingled with something else — fear.

“What are you talking about Jungkook?” she whispered, her eyes searching for him.

“Oh please!” he snapped, raising his voice.

“Quit acting like you don’t fucking know anything!” he yelled, letting his pent up anger finally blow up.

“This is all because of you! You and your fucking family!”

NEXT ➜

[shadow4-1]

(Based on a true story) I'm imagining being a military contracted funeral director (from this post) that is surprised when the giant Lieutenant of the man you just cremated is waiting in your office.

"Oh! Um...h-hello Lieutenant Riley." You huff, completely caught off guard. "How long have you been waiting here?"

He doesn't respond. Just looks up at you with tired, distraught eyes. You've seen men bigger than him sobbing in the funeral home's lobby. He's no different despite the soft ski mask he wears to hide his face.

"I take it you're here for Mr. MacTavish?" You asked him, setting down your purse and keys on your desk. He doesn't nod or anything but he doesn't have to. You offer him a soft smile and place a hand on his shoulder. "Can I offer you something to drink? Coffee? Tea?"

"Tea..." His voice is rougher than before from disuse.

You nod and gesture for him to follow you. You lead him down the hall and into a small family room. On the side of the room there's a table with a few beverage heaters and pastries. You pour him a cup of steaming water, then thumb over the organized packets of tea.

"Black? Green?"

"Black."

You rip open the packet and place it in the cup. You offer him sugar and milk but he refuses with a shake of his head. He doesn't touch the pastries either so instead you usher him to follow you once more.

You bring him into the selection room. Caskets and urns line the walls. You can feel Mr. Riley's eyes wander from squarely between your shoulders. You take the opportunity to use your key and unlock the mahogany cabinet at the back of the room.

Inside the cabinet are a handful of different sized velvet bags. You reach for the largest one in the middle of the main shelf. With careful, gentle fingers, you pull down the velvet drawstring bag to reveal a simple urn. It's round, smooth and silver in color. Before you can pick it up, you hear something with significant weight hit the carpeted floor behind you.

You whirl around to find the Lieutenant on his knees. You stop what you're doing and immediately tend to him. You grab at his shoulder and try to keep him upright. If he passes out you'll at least be able to keep him from falling directly on his face.

"Mr. Riley?"

At first it's just sniffles. He covers his entire face with one of his large, broad hands. After a few moments though, he starts to sob. His breath hitches and his voice quavers.

"Mr. Riley?" You ask again, this time softer.

He continues to cry. His body starts to shake and he almost begins to wail. You press a comforting hand between his shoulder blades. All you can really do is comfort him until he's done.

Riley pulls his hand away from his face. He tries to rub the tears off of his lower lashes but it doesn't work. His sobbing slows down but doesn't stop. He seems tired, defeated. His entire body sags with an invisible weight.

"Mr. Riley?" You whisper, patting his back.

He finally breaks from his stupor. He looks up at you with a sort of fear you've only seen a few times in men's eyes. He's being vulnerable and so he believes he's being weak. You're not supposed to see this of him. No one should. You don't agree with that sentiment and never will, so you offer him another soft smile.

Riley shifts on his knees. You think he's going to move to stand. He leans over to you, pressing the side of his face against the meat of your hip. One of his arms wraps around your thighs. He squeezes you tight, like a son would his mother. He doesn't pull away either. He just holds you.

Once again, you're caught off guard. Now this, this is something you've never experienced before. You're unsure. You don't know if you should pry out of his grip or let him continue. He's a large man. You wouldn't want to offend him. He's grieving. He lost his best friend.

You lean over again, patting at his shoulders but moving up towards his head. You cup at his jaw to get his attention.

"I never met Mr. MacTavish, but something tells me he would hate to see you like this." You swallow hard. Sometimes, to support, you realized you need to have a little bite.

"Please, get up Mr. Riley."

Something about your command seems to stir something within him. His eyes grow pointed, his brow lines deepen. He immediately lets go of you like your body heat burns. And with that, hd staggers up off his knees. He refuses to look you in the eye.

Now free, you walk over to the cabinet. You replace the velvet bag around Mr. MacTavish's urn. You glance back at Riley and sigh.

"I know this is hard. Are you sure you want to pick up Mr. MacTavish today?" You hum. "I can call Captain Price to come instead. I'm sure he'd understand."

Riley stands there on shaky ankles still sniffling. He won't meet your eyes. He seems to be thinking hard about your words. He nods once.

You close and lock up the cabinet before escorting Mr. Riley to the lobby. The midday sun casts beautiful shadows across the white walls. The receptionist must've taken her lunch break as it was just the two of you.

"Here's my card. I'm sure you don't need it but um...if you need anything. Need someone to talk to? You can call me anytime." You smiled earnestly, placing the small card in his palm.

"Don't be ashamed, Mr. Riley. It's nor-"

"Simon."

You raised a brow but realized what he meant. You nodded. "Mr. Simon."

"No. Just Simon."

You give him a sheepish smile. "Simon."

He nods back at you, his regular demeanor having seemed to return. He tucks your card away.

"I'll be back for you."

You open your mouth to question him. You can't tell if his words are a threat or simply an odd promise. He's already turned to leave. You watch him walk out of the facilities' glass double doors. He dissappears into the sunlight a moment later.

You feel nervous but you feel...fulfilled? Mr. Rile-er Simon...is a peculiar man. You didn't want for him to break down and cling to you, but the fact he did make your heart swell. You'd always heard comments that you were just that type of person, the kind that even the most closed off people could open up to. For a moment you sat there lost in that thought. You enjoyed the feeling.

Then you had to get back to work.

You picked up the receptionist's phone, pulled a card out of your pocket, and then dialed the number of the Captain scrawled on the back.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Welcome to the 1993 Bubble House in Karalee, Queensland, Australia. 3bds, 2ba, 4,477 sq ft. The price isn't available unless you sign in, but you can see the photos. (It's over $1m.) It has 11 domes and 20 rooms.

We're goin' in. It's actually very beautiful inside.

The hall is like entering a space tunnel.

Not bad, huh? It's not a new house, but it's so spacey, it's still relevant. So, this is a dining area.

The living/family room is round and clustered around an elevated fireplace.

The stovepipe goes clear thru the 2nd floor and out the roof. I'm thinking that this is a bedroom suite- look at the niches in the walls, and there's a door, possibly to a bath.

Down here there's a multi-level TV room with home theater seating. Look at the swirling window.

Off the main area there's a bar in a separate room.

A kitchen in the round. The island is round and makes a nice table when chairs are placed at the counter.

2 floor library.

Downstairs, there's a proper library, also.

That window looks like it should open, but I doubt if it does. Either that, or it reminds me of the Nautilus. I think that this could also be a bedroom with a lofted area.

Upstairs is a larger, more formal living room.

The round home office has room for 3.

The bath looks like a mini pool with an escape hatch.

Even the laundry room is spacey. And, there's also another fridge in here.

Out on the large patio there's a pool, an outdoor kitchen, and a terrace above.

And, here is another view of the house.

Check out the entrance gate.

The lot size is 1.27 acres.

https://www.realestate.com.au/property/79-81-elanora-way-karalee-qld-4306/9

[thebearer]

Ugh I love your writing 🫶🫶 could you do something where the reader and Carmen have that asshole to everyone but his partner trope 🫶like the staff see how he acts around the reader when they drop by to see him during his lunch break and they’re in shock ?

yes yes yes!! I feel like that's such a good trope for him!!

"Guys, what did I tell you? House keeping, please, fuck!" Carmen yelled, running a frustrated hand through his hair, a chorus of "yes, chef!" following him.

"Hey, Carmy," Neil puffed, carrying the ladder towards the bathroom. "Your girl's in your office."

Carmen's eyes lit up, frustration dissipated at the sound that you were here, waiting for him- surprised him. "Thanks, Neil." Carmen grumbled, non-slip shoes padding across the floor, rounding the corner with an announcement, slipping into the office.

There you were, sitting in the chair, legs propped up on his desk, lazily flicking through recipes. "Hey," Carmen greeted, lips curling when he shut the door behind him. "What're you doin' here? I didn't know you were stopping by."

You spun towards him, feet clomping on the ground at the movement, a tiny smirk on your lips. "Came to see you." You hummed. "Thought I'd take up your offer tonight and come have family with you."

"Yeah?" Carmen's eyes lit up, bright and excited- still a little bashful, even after all the time you'd been together. "That's nice, real nice. I'm glad you came, baby."

You giggled, flinging the recipes on the desk, hands cupping either side of his head to pull him closer when he ducked down for a kiss. Your lips slotted over his, hands sliding through his hair to push him further into you. Carmen laughed into the kiss, hands reaching for your jaw, tilting your head up towards him.

"Stand up," Carmen muttered, lips moving against yours.

You obliged, switching places with him so he was in the chair, you straddling his waist. Your arms looped around his neck, his on your back, the other cradling your ass, sliding and squeezing over the fatty flesh there.

"Hey, cousin, time for fami- oh!" Richie recoiled, slamming the door just as quickly as he opened it. "Oh, for fuckssake, lock the door if you're gonna be nasty! Christ!"

"How about you knock!" Carmen shouted back, cheeks tinging with the red tint of embarrassment. You bit your lip, biting back a laugh. Carmen glared at you lightly. "That's not funny."

"It's a little bit funny, Carmy." You grinned, gently petting down a stray curl tugged out of place. "Like a teeny tiny bit." You pressed your fingers together for emphasis, ignoring his light snort of laugher.

"Richie's runnin' his mouth in there, you know that right?" Carmen muttered, hands smoothing sweetly down your waist.

You shrugged. "He always is."

"Yeah," Carmen laughed. "You're right about that, c'mon." He patted your ass lightly for you to get up. You grabbed his hands, tugging him lightly out of his chair, swinging your arms between the two of you.

"Who cooked tonight?" You asked, arms looped around his waist, padding down to the back room.

"Sydney." Carmen replied, grinning at your hum of satisfaction.

"Oh, everyone avert your fucking eyes, here they come." Richie announced loudly, turning to the table before him. "Cousin, that was fuckin' quick, eh?"

"Shut up." Carmen rolled his eyes, annoyed, pushing past Richie. He ignored the snickers from Tina, placing a hand on your back, pulling your chair out for you.

"Here, baby, you want a pop or somethin'?" Carmen asked you in a hushed tone, reaching to grab a glass from the spaces behind him.

"I'll just do water." You nodded towards the pitcher in the middle.

"Sure. You want lemon?" Carmen asked, pushing your hand away lightly when you went to pour your glass, a simple "I got it" that shouldn't have made you as flustered as it did. You blamed the make out session that got cut short.

Tina's eyes cut to Richie, watching the two of you whisper gently. Carmen looked relaxed, shoulders not tensed and eyes not darting. No, he was calm when he talked to you... maybe even sweet? The smiles he gave you certainly were.

Tina shrugged lightly at Richie, a smug, knowing smile on her face.

[fortglobal]

Unlock generational wealth protection strategies with SWFI's Convergence Platform. Join the Family Office Round Table Dubai fort event 2024 to network and learn. Visit https://fort.global/

[propertyofwicked]

HOMESICK - LN

content warnings: just fluff really, mentions of anxiety, being far from family

2.4k words - lemme know if u want a pt2 for this one :)

masterlist

y/n hated new places, she hated change, and most of all she hated being away from home. y/n knew she would eventually feel a sense of comfort and familiarity in woking, but for now, her blood ran hot, and an icy sweat took over her body, her eyes tearful even though she couldn’t pin point why she felt so upset. the flat was silent, and yet deafening, every whistle of wind or creak of a floorboard serving as her constant reminder - you are alone, your are miles away from your family, everything is unfamiliar.

she found herself constantly shaking her head, trying to knock some sense into herself

you’ve done this before, you went to university even further from your family, you did this for 3 years, you can do it again. you are a grown woman now sort yourself out.

her thoughts battled loudly with each other, one side of her brain logical, the other trying to sabotage her.

it just didn’t make sense - she travelled across the world almost weekly, filming and editing content for the mclaren social media pages, working closely with the drivers, engineers and management and never once felt overwhelmed with the distance from home comforts. she supposed being constantly on the move, keeping her mind and body occupied with her work boded well in distracting her from feeling homesick. the close bond she’d formed with everyone in the garages probably aided her even further, provided her with a new sense of family away from home.

but for now, she sat cross legged on her desk chair, arms resting on the table, her head balancing precariously in her hands, deep in sleep. y/n had arrived at the offices at 10pm, unable to sleep in her empty flat, the feeling of constant nausea and upset overbearing, and deciding that being productive was a much better use of her time - a great distraction from her loneliness. she hadn’t intended to fall asleep, especially not in a position that put so much strain on her back, and yet here she was.

3am in the mclaren offices and all that could be heard was heavy, exhausted breathing and the soft whir of a computer fan that ran idly in the background.

this is something that lando found peculiar - who was sleeping in the office? and why were they sleeping here? he thought to himself as he and oscar snuck into the building from the side door.

as they rounded the corner, oscar’s mouth opened, starting to ask the same thing lando had been questioning, but was cut off by lando’s finger raising to his own lips, shushing the younger man before pointing to y/n’s desk, her head now resting on the table cheek smushing her forgotten glasses further into her face uncomfortably.

the two of them, stared at the girl before moving to look back at each other, a mix of confusion and amusement glossing their faces.

“wh- why is she here?” he asked, out of pure concern for the girl.

“i don’t know oscar, we walked in at the same time?” lando responds, taking long but quiet steps to stand behind her chair.

“didn’t she just get a new flat near here? why wouldn’t she go home?” oscar asked again, mindlessly, knowing that lando was also bewildered to the sight in front of them. the older man simply shrugged in response, moving to rest a hand on the sleeping girl’s shoulder, bending slightly till he was level with her face.

“y/n? y/n?” he asked her softly, moving her shoulder gently in his hand as to not startle her, “you need to wake up, darlin’, can’t sleep here,” he adds, noting her breathing change as she came back to reality.

“lando?” she asked, startled, despite his best efforts, “what are you doing here it’s like -” she wiggled the mouse on her computer to bring up the home screen, “3am?”

“what are you doing here at 3am? not to mention, fast asleep at your desk,” he retorts, standing back and crossing his arms over his chest. she finally clocks oscar stood awkwardly behind him, sending him a quick smile, before leaning back in her chair, looking at lando again.

“i asked first.”

“we’re breaking in to decorate zach’s office for his birthday,” he says as though it was obvious, laughing slightly at the thought of the hello kitty balloons stuffed into the bag oscar held behind his back, “now, what are you doing here?”

“working,” she replied, offering no more to her story.

“with your eyes closed? drooling on your desk? i don’t think so.”

“i was not drooling,” she argues, confident in her words despite the back of her hand moving to wipe her mouth just in case.

“you we-”

“didn’t you just move in to a new flat y/n?” oscar asks, interrupting what he was sure would be an entertaining round of bickering between the two.

“i did,” she says with a nod, “i just got so caught up in my work. didn’t realise what the time was,” she adds, dodging the subject of her empty flat. the flat so empty of life, but so full of overwhelming silence and dread, and yet she found solace in the silence of the mclaren offices.

“do you want a ride home?” lando asked, sensing there was more to the story, but leaving the can unopened, for now.

she shook her head, breathing out a long sigh as she did.

“no thanks, i might just stay here till the work day starts,” she adds, her hand rubbing her eyes slightly, feeling the exhaustion still looming in her brain.

“are you sure?” oscar asked, concern rising in his voice again.

“yep,” y/n replied, the ‘p’ exaggerated.

the boys looked at each other, a silent exchange of words between the team mates as they moved in the direction of zach’s office once again.

“we’ll come check in with you before we leave, yeah?” lando added, before turning on his heel and following oscar down the long hallway. she nodded even though they couldn’t see her, before pulling the hood of her jumper over her hair, and letting her head fall back onto the desk, using her arms as makeshift pillows.

it was nearing 4am when the two returned, once again guided down the hallway by the sound of y/n’s heavy breathing. they stopped just before they could see her, turning to each other.

“we gotta get her home. her back is gonna be ruined if she keeps sleeping like that,” oscar says, keeping his voice low.

“i know - she still hasn’t forgiven jon for letting her sleep curled up under a table a year ago. spent the whole week complaining about her spine aching,” lando replied, smiling softly at the memory of her trying to bend herself backwards over a chair to ‘reset’ her back, as she had claimed.

“how do we get her to leave? willingly? without the kicking and screaming?” lando asked after a moment of silence, the boys plotting their next moves.

“you’ll think of something, im sure. she’ll never say no to you,” oscar replies, his hands moving to grip his car keys in the pockets of his joggers.

“what do you mean? ill think of something? you’re not leaving me to deal with her on my own, are you?” lando asked, suddenly doubting his abilities to contend with the strong willed woman asleep not 3 metres away from them.

“i left lily sleeping 2 hours ago, and i don’t feel like explaining this,” he says, pointing at the room in general, “when she wakes up and realises im not there,” he finishes with a shrug.

“fine,” lando says with a huff, “wish me luck.”

“good luck. lemme know how she gets on,” the australian replies, walking away from lando slowly, but glancing into the office space to check on y/n one last time.

lando sighed again, before sauntering back into the room he had left her in an hour ago. he moved to crouch next to her again, his fingers moving to pull her hood back, tucking her hair out of her face as he did. she looked so peaceful like this, her eyes twitching slightly under the pressure of sleep, a lose strand of hair blowing with every exhale. he didn’t want to wake her, but there was no other option unless he wheeled her out on the chair she sat on.

“angel? y/n?” he paused, grimacing slightly at his slip up, “it’s time to go,” he said softly, stroking her arm gently. he hoped she was too sleepy to notice the pet name.

“go where?” she mumbled, in her half-asleep state, eyes opening to look at him.

“home, y/n. need to get you in a proper bed.”

“no, im fine here,” she said, quickly defending her choice of sleeping position, “you go, ill see you later.”

“nuh-uh,” he tutted, standing in front of her to grip both her arms, dragging her up from the chair, “you are going to go home and sleep in a proper bed.”

“i don’t have my car and there’s no buses at this time.”

“ill drive you home.”

“it’s out of your way, you’d be wasting a journey.”

“don’t care. you’re getting in my car and im taking you home,” he argued back, finalising the argument she knew she wouldn’t win.

“fine,” she huffed, still clawing for the last word even if she had lost the battle.

soon, they were stood in the car park, lando stepping to the side to pull the passenger door open, a hand firmly on her back pushing her into the car. she wanted to argue that she was fully capable of getting in the car on her own, but the pure exhaustion took over as she adjusted the seat to her comfort, clicking her belt in as lando started the engine.

the car was silent, asides from the fans that pushed warm air into the vehicle and the low humming of the engine. he tried his best to take the roads slow, especially as he neared her flat, fearing waking up the neighbourhood with the growling of his car when he accelerated.

“what’s the real reason you didn’t wanna go home?” he asked, arm coming to rest at his side.

“i told you, i didn’t realise what time it was,” she said, refusing to let her lie catch up with her.

“bullshit.”

“what?”

“i said, bullshit. that’s not the real reason.”

“im homesick,” she spat out, “ok? im an adult woman who can’t handle the prospect of being home alone, 200 miles away from her family. happy now?”

“happ- why would i be happy about that?” he asked, his tone softer than his previous outburst. they were now pulling into her apartment building, y/n still neglecting to answer him until the car pulled to a complete stop.

“you wanna come in, for a bit?” she asked, biting her tongue.

“do you want me to come in?”

“yeah, if you want to. only for a bit,” she said again.

“ok,” his response was simple, he didn’t really need to think it through. he glanced down at his watch, 5:15am, and yet, he could not feel more awake. he didn’t mind staying, especially if it gave her the comfort to move freely in her own home.

walking into her flat felt oddly natural to him, despite him having never been there. the two could be considered close friends, not that either of them would acknowledge it, but spending years working closely together, travelling around the world, tends to do that. they’d started working at mclaren at similar times, him as a driver and her as a content creator for the brand, the new job nerves acting as almost a trauma bond between the two. they’d spent many nights in each others hotel rooms, playing games, watching films, often with oscar in tow - anything to pass the time in between races - but the two had never crossed the personal boundary into each others homes.

and yet, lando strolled in, took his shoes off by the door, and threw himself down on the sofa as if this was a daily thing. y/n dropped herself down next to him, sighing as she did.

“you need to sleep,” he said, turning to look at her, his arm thrown over the back of the sofa where she sat.

“my brain is too awake now,” she said, voice never faltering despite her stomach turning as she realises how close they were sat, the way his warmth surrounded her as his fingers tapped a steady rhythm on the seat behind her head.

“you wanna watch something till you settle again?” he asked, tv remote already in hand.

“sounds good,” she replied, tight lipped, eyes focusing as he scrolled through her netflix, settling on a film she didn’t care to remember the name of.

before the opening credits had even started, y/n body slumped against lando’s, head dropping to rest below his shoulder. he tensed slightly, relaxing again when he looked down to see her eyes closed, chest heaving deep breathes once again. his arm resting on the sofa dropped behind her back, his hand moving to hold her waist gently, fingers drawing light circles on the fabric of her leggings.

a while later, he moved his hips slightly, trying to re adjust his position to stop his legs going dead. he feared he had woken her, when she mumbled something incoherent and began moving. lando allowed himself to let out a shaky breath as she twisted herself into his side, her arm moving to wrap around his waist, her leg bending upwards to rest on top of his.

he waited a moment, as if to check she was really sleeping, before leaning down to press a soft kiss to the top of her head.

“goodnight, angel,” he whispered.

lando told himself he’d leave when the film ended. in his silence he planned how to move from the sofa without waking her. but then his eyes grew tired, and he told himself he’d shut them, just for a moment.

the two of them lay on the sofa, fast asleep. his posture had sloped in his slumber, shifting their bodies into a recline, his arms wrapped tightly around her and she settled onto his chest. their legs entwined with each other, a blanket lando had attempted to wrap around her had fallen haphazardly to the floor.

[pathologicalreid]

If your down could u write an imagine where reader is new to the bau and Spencer is just coming back from jail and he makes reader nervous and when he notices he starts to mess with her nothing to wild but he teases her every now and again -🖤

drop | S.R.

in which reid seems to be there every time you drop something

who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader

category: fluff

content warnings: fluff, lighthearted teasing, clumsiness, obliviousness, reader is mentioned to be shorter than 5'7" (sorry it just worked for the story)

word count: 1.1k

a/n: hey anon! thanks for requesting, i think i may have verged away from the request on accident. also this is the one i posted about earlier that had been deleted by word so i had to rewrite it and therefore it's not very thoroughly proofread. hope you enjoy.

It came as a shock, most people needed to apply to the BAU and even then, they spent years trying to get in. You had gotten a call four months ago and were told you were leaving IOD in the Hoover building and would be expected at the BAU the next morning.

Years ago, you had a run-in with Emily Prentiss while she was heading Interpol in London, but you didn’t think she remembered you – let alone wanted to work with you. She brought you on to the team to help catch Peter Lewis

Now, Peter Lewis was dead, and Spencer Reid had been exonerated. You thought your time with the team was done, but when Emily caught you packing up your things, she told you she had no intentions of sending you back to the International Operation Division.

So, you made yourself comfortable at your desk across from Luke’s, even adding a picture of your family, just to make it seem a little lived-in.

It was something you’d had drilled into your head by your father: if you’re not early, you’re late. That was the reason why you were usually the first to the BAU, only sometimes being beaten by Dr. Reid.

Penelope said he was harmless, but that didn’t change the fact that he made you nervous. Not nervous in the sense that you were scared of him, but nervous in the way that he was something of a legend in the FBI.

Even more so since his recent release from prison.

You felt a sort of disconnect from the team when it came to them trying to get Reid out of prison, whenever Nadie Ramos came up in conversation, you picked up your files on Mr. Scratch and distracted yourself. Of course, you helped where you were needed, but you didn’t know him like they did.

This particular morning, you had beaten him to the office, taking your spot at your desk and flipping through a file you had abandoned in the name of sleep last night. A slight crash made you jump so badly that you fumbled with the papers in an attempt to not drop them. You looked up to see Spencer had dropped his bag on his desk, “Good morning, Y/N.” He greeted you.

Blankly, you stare at him for a moment before giving him a half smile. “Good morning, Dr. Reid,” you responded.

“I told you that you could just call me Reid, or Spencer,” he said, sitting down at his own desk.

Nodding, you found yourself interested in your coffee cup. “Yes, you did,” you took a deep breath. “Good morning, Spencer,” you tried again, offering him a fuller smile.

That seemed to appease him for now because he flipped open his own files and started inspecting them.

As you were preparing for the 10 o’clock debrief, you found yourself in the office kitchenette, pouring a cup of coffee from the pot that had been brewed an indeterminate number of minutes ago. Vaguely aware of the person standing behind you, you turned around to find Spencer, holding his own mug in both hands. “Oh! Hey,” you said, mentally smacking the palm of your hand to your forehead.

You moved out of the way as you added cream to your mug, watching as Spencer poured his coffee and followed it up with an almost equal amount of sugar. As you were about to make your way to the round table room, Spencer spoke, “You know, before 1975 you wouldn’t even have been able to be an FBI agent.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you stopped in your tracks and turned to face him, “Wait, what? Why?”

“Before 1975 people shorter than 5’7” couldn’t be FBI agents,” He responded plainly, but there was a bit of mischief in his eyes.

You looked at him curiously, warmth flooding your cheeks. You stammered something about being late and rushed to the roundtable room, taking your usual spot next to Luke, and watching what Garcia presented to you—pretending not to notice Spencer across the table from you.

The BAU had been asked to consult on a case, but there were no precincts that had asked the team to make a trip to them. You had finished the paperwork on a recently closed case and got up to bring it to Emily, stuffing the papers in a file folder, you turned around and ran into Spencer. “Sorry!” You squeaked out, dropping to the floor to pick up the papers. To your surprise, he crouched down next to you and helped to pick up the papers. “Oh, jeez, now they’re all out of order,” you moped, setting the papers back down on your desk.

“It was my fault,” Spencer said. The honesty in his voice made your shoulders slouch.

Shaking your head, you smiled at him, “It’s okay, Spencer. They’re just papers.”

He looked at you like there was something more he wanted to say, but he didn’t, he just turned from your desk and walked out of the bullpen, leaving you staring.

When you finally brought your papers to Emily, she asked you to close the door behind you. Patiently, you stood in her office while she added your file to the menacing pile she kept on her desk. “I’ve been meaning to ask how you’re doing. With the BAU, I mean,” she told you, leaning over her desk.

“Good, I think. I’ve gotten very few complaints so far,” you told her, unable to help the uneasiness you felt. Had someone said something?

Emily nodded, her dark hair shining with the movement, “Good, I haven’t heard anything negative about you at all. Which is actually uncommon for the BAU.”

You let the rest of the day pass, but as the team trickled out of the bullpen, only you, Emily, and Spencer were left.

At the sound of rustling, you looked over to see that Spencer was packing up his things and putting them into his familiar leather bag. Resting your cheek on your hand, you went back to your case file, marking thoughts in the margins.

Jumping when something hit your desk, making the metal rattle, you dropped your pen on the ground. Peering up to see Spencer giving you a lopsided smile before he bent down to pick up your pen, “Hey, at least you didn’t drop a bunch of papers again.”

You flushed as your eyes followed him out the glass doors of the BAU, turning around to see Emily watching on, leaning on the railing outside her office, looking between you and Spencer as if she knew something you didn’t.

[cheriladycl01]

No because that hurt me! Lando Norris x Girlfriend! Reader Part 2

Plot: Lando goes one step too far ...

As you'd promised you'd gone straight back to London, you thrown yourself into your work. You spent the days on the construction sight for the new house you were flipping, overseeing the progress. You spent the evenings in the studio working on more plans for the interior of the house.

But you did miss him, of course you missed him.

He was your person ...

Your guy...

The love of your life.

In the time that you'd come home however, videos had surfaced, many videos had surfaced...

The first was of you and Lando in the club, someone from a table across from the one your friends had been sat in showed how Lando had acted towards you and how his friends had tried to back you up. The next was of you running up to Alex, begging for a lift.

Afterwards, videos were leaked of the rest of Lando's night where he celebrated his win, by dancing with his friends and random girls that were being pulled into the big group. Nothing scandalous but enough to upset the fans who really liked you.

Later on, after the first few videos came out a video came out of Max Fewtrell and him arguing before him and Pietra left. Max actually pushed him a little and lots of hand gestures were flying round, but Lando looked just as angry as Max did.

Normally when you were in London, people knew they'd get content on your Instagram stories of you doing what you do best. People had suggested you to start a YouTube because your live's and reels were so funny that they'd definitely spend the time watching.

But you'd been dark since the argument with Lando and people were getting worried including Lando. So when you posted a titkok with your team, in the trend that AstonMartin did where the camera is up high above and you all do funny things, the media went crazy.

You then posted a video on instagram talking about the new house and the progress that was coming on.

"Hey guys! Y/N here! Just wanted to show you how the latest project is coming on. We've torn down the living room and put all new flooring in, which actually has built in underfloor heating which i think here in the UK is a real money move. We're going to hook it all up to a central network from the hallway as you walk in, which we finally finished the painting for that last week" you pan showing the round the areas you'd been talking about.

You showed you and one of the girls tearing down the kitchen.

Captioned 'Best Part of the Job, Free Rage Room', which is how you'd always referred to the demolition phase of house flipping. People on twitter of course took it out of context and rumors started flying that you and Lando had in fact called it splits, even one of those WAG update pages 'confirming' the breakup from close sources.

You'd found it laughable really, but you knew it would be hurting Lando, and no matter how much he hurt you ... you weren't a bitter person. You didn't want him hurting as well.

You were sat in your studio at your desk, sketching for the garden. The pen was currently in your mouth, sat back debating whether you should reach out to Lando or wait for him to come to you.

It had been three weeks at this point with no communication. You'd spoken to Lando's family, who had talked with you about everything that had happened. Cisca and Adam had apologized for their sons behavior.

As you were about to pick up your phone, caving in to messaging Lando first when you swore you wouldn't on knock on your wooden studio door sounds.

You frown, wondering who on earth would be coming to you at this time of the night. You weren't even open, office hours were long over. It was about 11pm, so your clients knew you weren't taking calls even though you were still here and working with a light on.

You open the door, bolt and latch on for added protection.

"Lando?" you ask seeing the curly haired boy, hoodie up and his eyes looking more tired than you'd ever seen them.

"You want to open up and let me in baby?" he asks softly, a slight crack to his voice.

"I was just about to call you" you admit, unlatching the door so it swings open fully. He stops just under the arch of the door observing you. It was like he was having a small inward debate with himself.

"Gonna cave coz you miss me?" he jokes, testing the waters. He didn't know how you were now that you'd have some time apart. He was hopeful that he could talk to you again and fix what had happened.

"Honestly yeah. I hate you and how much of a hold you have on me" you admit, leaning back into your chair directing him to the sofa.

"I came here, to say I'm sorry and that I was horrible to you. And I know it's not excuse but I want to explain what happened. In full... I think you deserve more than an explanation... but I think you need one for if we are ever going to go back to what we were" he sighs. He leans forward and takes your hand into his.

He explains how, after the race people told him you'd said you were leaving the race track. So he went to the hotel to find you, only for you not to be there, Max came round and said you were probably getting ready with the girls as P had told him you were all gonna meet them there.

"I didn't think this was too out of the ordinary for you, your especially close with P and Lily, and it wouldn't shock me if Kelly and Kika would drag you all into a girl pre-club party in their hotel room..." he laughs knowing that normally you and P would do each other's makeup when Max and her came to race weekends. Or you and Lily would switch outfit's loving to venture into each other's styles.

When he got to the club and no-one had seen you, and Pierre and Charles had come up to him with celebratory shots, he hadn't declined.

"The shots were the start of what slowly just went downhill, I don't think i ever want to drink that much again, I was so happy at the start" he laughs flushing red and the thought of him knocking back shots, which was rare considering he didn't like to drink. He wouldn't be doing it anytime soon that was for sure.

"You deserved to celebrate though baby, don't make it seem like you shouldn't have had a fun night" you admit, both of you were being open and mature adults right now. You were so glad you'd both spent some time apart to think before you fought more, now you were both talking and listening to each other and you couldn't help but think it was beautiful and intimate.

After the three hour mark he was fed up that you hadn't bothered to show up at such an important night for him. Talking to Charles and Pierre who were also drunk, weren't the best influences on suggesting places you could be. All of them being ones his drunk mind could picture vividly, his sober mind would have known his girl would never dream of doing that to him.

"Charles said some things and I know sober me would have known you wouldn't do that, but i was already angry thinking you'd just ditched me. I shouldn't have drunk as much and I know its no excuse... but" he starts and you nod.

"The main thing is you know how you would have acted. Yes you upset me, yes your hurt me because you said some horrible things to me..."

"Yeah, I've heard the video and It wasn't my intention to embarrass you the way I did, especially in front of our friends. I'm so so sorry!" he admits.

The other group, had tried to convince him that maybe you'd just got held up and thats where Oscar, Lily, Max and P had all messaged you.

"Baby, I'm so so sorry that i wasn't there for you after what happened!" he says tears in his eyes. This would forever be one of his biggest regrets in life, not being there for you when you needed him.

"How did you find out?" you gulp, not really wanting to think about what could have happened that night if it wasn't for the Mclaren Mechanics.

"Well, after having a scolding from Oscar, and Max, and Alex, and Zac... the mechanics also threatened to botch my pit stops. So i listened to what they did for you"

"Mmmm it was scary. All i wanted was you" you nod, rubbing a thumb across his hand.

"I'm so so sorry, I promised you that i'd protect you always. And I've failed!" he says with a little snivel and tears brimming his eyes.

"You've not failed, you just made a mistake, there's been some miscommunication and Charles and Pierre didn't help with their boyish meddling but ... we'll get there" you smile before pulling closer to him and nuzzling into his neck breathing in his sent.

"Do you think you'll ever forgive me?" he asks softly pulling you back so he can fully look at you.

"I already have, darling" you smile.

"What did i ever do to deserve you, I don't think i do" he smiles.

"Hmmmm, well I think the historians will argue one day its me who didn't deserve you" you sigh, brushing some of his hair back.

"I doubt that" he scoffs, knowing that when you first started dating, even with your lack of status people still thought you were too kind, too sweet and too innocent for someone as jokey and brash as Lando was seen to be.

"I've never had anyone treat me the way you do, I'm so so in love with you. And I don't ever want the feelings I have when i think of you and see you to stop. I feel like i can do anything when i have you by my side. Why do you think the first person i seeked out was you?" you offer, softly leaning in and placing a kiss on the corner of his lips.

You guys, talked more that night. About how you actually had fun helping the Mclaren boys pack up, regardless if you thought Lando had forgotten about you.

A week later and the media had picked up on the sighting the paps had got of both of you. Some fans had seen you both at a restaurant and make posts on it.

The comments bashed you either way, being between saying how silly you were for taking him back or the others saying they were upset you were back. It got to the point where you had to release a statement saying that you and Lando, are grown adults who can talk through the miscommunication and issues you'd experienced and were better for it now.

"I love you so much, and I'm never ever ever acting up like that again" he says as you help him do up his fire suit for the race you were currently at with him.

"I love you too, now go out and get another win for me baby so we can celebrate properly this time" you smile, kissing him before Jon comes forward asking for Lando's presence in the front of the garage.

A/N: I hope you guys think this did the first part justice as so many people requested a Part 2, so I'm really scared that this hasn't done it justice! If you want a rewrite with something better... something longer where its more of a series. Or where it goes the opposite way and it takes her longer to forgive him let me know. I just thought that Y/N and Lando in this one specifically would be the type to maturely talk about things!

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