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MINORS DNI - 18+ - 20s - a lot of the reblogs of fics I really enjoy ♥️

[starrvsn]

ꕮ ˚₊ ꒰ HOLLANOV ⁾⁾ AFTERTASTE

SYNOPSIS ⠆you can taste things your soulmate is eating/drinking.

TAGS: smau, this is so ooc! but oh well!, college!au, soulmate!au, very unhinged, this is all for shits and giggles tbh, this is what i made after ao3 being down for 15 hours lol. ignore the time stamps :/

bonus!

ownership of starrvsn. please do not repost, modify or translate.

[the-spicy-sugar]

The Winner Takes it All

Baby Blues Series - Part 26 📸

Ex!Verstappen x Reader x Norris

Masterlist - Baby Blues Masterlist & Playlist

Summary: Time passes between the birth of the baby and the season coming to an end, not without some sort of drama.

Note: The bitch is back and lowkey better than ever. Lost a lot of motivation for a while there but trying to be better, currently just working through stages of grief but we’ll get there guys. Tysm to anyone who’s ever supported the series ❤️

Faceclaim: Talia Mar

suggested listen: The Winner Takes It All by ABBA

liked by ynsurname, maxfewtrell, mclaren and 2.1M others

landonorris local adventures only this summer but I still managed to get sunburnt and outsmarted by my dog soooo 😌🙂‍↕️

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f1pets we need more Peanut cameos please!! 🐕

oscarpiastri little man already has a better tan than me

↳ hattiepiastri youre haunting this house with your whiteness, Oscar ✋

lilymhe obsessed with the family photo 😭🩵

user1 their first son Keegan being there with their second son Sonny dvyebthwicbekwo I have nobody to talk to about how happy this makes me

↳ user2 literally the way she’d adopted Keegan as her baby before her and Max had even ended but now his parents are together 😭

danielricciardo you look way too happy for a man who’s definitely been pooped on this week

f1wagupdates YN bouncing back immediately actually WAS on my bingo card 👀😌🔥

user3 you can see how happy they look omg 🥹

landonorris peanut is currently grounded for attempted homicide on mum’s laptop if anyone cares

↳ ynsurname she’s just a baby, she’s sorry!!!

↳ landonorris old enough to know better, she’s gotta set an example to Sonny 🧐

↳ ynsurname booooooo JAIL

f1gossip peanut, Sonny, AND mama of the year??? this post has everything 🙏🏼

kikacgomes my girlfriend looks sexy (respectfully)

↳ pierregasly 😟

martingarrix missed you in Ibiza mate! Summer at home suits you both though, big love ❤️

carlossainz no pictures of padel?? Because you lost haha

liked by landonorris, mclaren, kikacgomes and 1.6M others

ynsurname I’m a ‘-ber month’ girlie at heart, goodbye summer, hello autumn 👋🍂

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user1 everyone worried about dad!Lando but he’s literally buckling Sonny’s teddies in…. SLAY 💅🏼

iamrebeccad family goals. Miss you guys ❤️

↳ ynsurname visit soon! Don’t know whether my fur baby or my real baby misses you more :)

user2 wholesome content only 🥹

mclaren autumn looks so good on our favourite little family!! 🍂🧡

↳ ciscanorris send merch for the baby pls 😎

kikacgomes that tattoo 🥹 stop it, I’m emotional. My beautiful loves, always your biggest cheerleader

user3 mind you this is baby Verstappen-Surname so can we stop calling it a Norris rn

pierregasly so I blinked and Sonny isn’t even a day old anymore… how did that happen ❤️

susiewolff Teddy looks very responsible, great technique 👍

user4 not to be dramatic but I’d die for this family

f1wagupdates I’m so hoping to see you on DTS next season queen, real ones still with you

↳ celebrityblinditems not me still trying to process everything that happened with Max lol

↳ f1gossip i’m happy for them but it’s gotta be complicated

↳ user5 I support her but this whole ‘family’ image feels a bit soon imo

↳ f1wagupdates yeah no ew fuck that, max literally is the instigator of this whole fucking breakup, what about his family image? The guy is selling baby clothes on his merch site - one of his baby’s is the product of cheating and the other is being fathered by Lando Norris lmfaoooooo grow uppppp

↳ user6 YES BITCH CLOCK HER MF TEA

danielricciardo make the guest bed up for uncle Danny! Can’t wait to meet the little smiler 🩷

khloekardashian mamacita 🌶️❤️✨

liked by ynsurname, mclaren, landonorris and 389k others

f1 In a class of his own - Nobody came like @lando in Mexico and he clocked the biggest margin of victory all season! #F1 #Formula1 #MexicoGP

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user1 surely… SURELY someone proofread this first???

user2 let’s go Lando!!! ❤️❤️

danielricciardo “nobody came like him” is CRAZY wording but i support it 😂💀

ynsurname admin is a reliable narrator :)

↳ yukitsunoda PAHAHAHA NOOO IM SCREAMING

f1gossip admin knew EXACTLY what they were doing be so fr 💅

user3 nobody came LIKE WHO?? LIKE WHERE?? 🗺️

maxverstappenfanpage I’m honestly getting so sick of the camera pans to YN every time she’s in the garage during the race. At this point they’re just looking for attention and it’s so gross. As if it’s not bad enough they’re trying to take the champ’s title this year 😤

↳ f1 wag culture is only growing, unfortunately we don’t have control over what the race broadcasters show! Though it’s always an honour to have any of the beautiful wag’s or family members join us ❤️

↳ f1wagupdates 👏 well said

↳ user4 I get it, it’s annoying when @skysports prioritises wags over important parts of the race but otherwise I love seeing the wags!!!

↳ kikacgomes ❤️

oscarpiastri that double meaning making the mclaren pr team sweat rn

user5 lmfao he got lucky ☘️

mclaren one step closer to the championship for one of our boys, we’re so immensely proud of the team and Lando’s effort today!

↳ zakbrown good performance for the team today, good job guys 🇲🇽

kymillman WOMEN OF THE PADDOCK [Mexico] features Lando’s girlfriend and his mother - behind every strong man is a stronger woman 💪❤️

user6 umm people going feral over this caption while the real tea is the family dynamic

f1wagupdates living for this era of f1 honestly 🏎️🧡

landonorris can’t help being efficient 🤷‍♂️😏

↳ ynsurname babe you’ve baited yourself 👀

liked by landonorris, yukitsunoda, kikacgomes and 2.1M others

ynsurname since Lando ‘came’ in Mexico we’ve opted for a little break for sunny days, salty hair, sleepy baby boy. Mexico, you absolutely understood the assignment - nothing new 🇲🇽🌺🍹

tagged: landonorris, yukitsunoda, kikacgomes, pierregasly, francolapinto

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lilymhe beachy baby era unlocked 🔓🤍👼🏻

carlossainz55 sleepy baby? Lando or Sonny?

f1wagupdates that tiny little beach hat on Sonny made my whole week 😭

mclaren recovery strategy approved, get ready to get back to it next weekend 💪

↳ ynsurname it’s classless to talk work on vacation - don’t you know? 👀

user1 I feel like sonny’s honestly the most gorgeous baby ever, he looks just like Max! :)

↳ maxverstappen1 😊

heidiberger I’m obsessed with these colours?? teach me your editing ways pls

user2 “since Lando came in Mexico” - girl WE KNOW WHAT YOU DID 😭😭😭

f1gossip YUKIIIII I’ve missed this combo so dearly. Gonna charge my crystals tonight and pray that we get yukierre x YN content from this trip 🕯️🔮✨

↳ f1wagupdates or YN x Kika I love them sm 🩷

maxfanpage I like you but the caption is kind of disrespectful to your ex tbh.

schecoperez it was so nice to see you 🇲🇽 Mexico >>>

oscarpiastri I’m not reading that caption I’m not reading that caption I’m not- 😵‍💫

↳ landonorris 24 years old by the way everybody

↳ user3 pahahaha Oscar is literally your adopted child he doesn’t wanna think about his parents getting to it

↳ francolapinto actually, it’s me 🙋🏻

↳ isackhadjar FIGHT ME FOR IT.

↳ ynsurname behave boys 😭

↳ francolapinto 🐒🐒 or what

alexandrasaintmleux no invite? 💔

user4 sorry but it’s so fucking hot to me that she’s a mom and Lando is dad? Like? wtf

mommyblogger please do a YouTube miniseries of travelling with Sonny! I’d love to see that :)

user5 Max seeing this like 👁️👄👁️

kellypiquetfanpage it’s so weird that you’d use a picture of your baby alongside an innuendo

↳ user3 she’s only repeating what f1 posted, I don’t think it’s meant as a proper innuendo

↳ kellypiquetfanpage honestly YN fans defend everything 😬

↳ user6 lmfao WHAT you’re literally a Kelly fan page so surely you’re not credible regarding YN either? So weird …

yukitsunoda the most fun in a long time - happy to be a babysitter always ❤️😂

liked by f1wagupdates, mclaren, landonorris and 3.9M others

ynsurname To Lando (or daddy, these days) my love, on your birthday, you’ve made me feel seen in a way I didn’t even realise I’d been missing. You love loudly, gently and oh so intentionally - and every day with you feels like something I never thought I’d get. There’s a saying about not knowing what you’re missing and it’s so disgustingly true. I felt my life had peaked before I found this feeling within you, within our new family.

I spent years being looked past instead of being looked at. To look back on that first picture we took together, when neither knew the other’s name, just a silly pose in some stupid nightclub before we went home with different people (you never gave me my sunglasses back, by the way), is so overwhelming - to know that everything in the world happens for a reason.

To think that the boy in that photo would one day be the man who lets a tiny sleeping baby snore on his chest, who gets up early despite his busy schedule to sit with my while I breastfeed, or to change a dirty nappy, the same boy who’d quote Kim Kardashian when asked about tattoos, who’d roll his eyes at needles but still sat in that tattoo studio for the first time because he couldn’t face parting with that beautiful little baby for even a moment.

If nothing else, to carry his name over your heart forever. And somehow we’re still just at the beginning. I don’t know what our future will look like, unfortunately it’s true that life is anything but predictable - but I know as long as it’s with you, I’m not afraid of any version of it.

Happy birthday, my love. Thank you for seeing me, choosing me an and turning an accidental nightclub photo into a life I can’t wait to keep discovering with you 🤍🌞✨

Forever yours, YN.

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user1 it’s very long but happy birthday lando

quadrant HBD to our resident chaos creator 🍾

maxfewtrell MY SHAYLASSSS (message me back about the surprise party, stop spamming Instagram)

martingarrix awesome tat mate! Happy birthday ☀️

↳ landonorris yes mate!!! Wouldn’t even get one for YN, little man deserves the space ❤️

maxfanpage all of the max references are such icks from her girl you’re wishing your new bf happy birthday why mention your bd ewww

user2 obsessed with this family, what a gorg post 🥺

isackhadjar I live for YNLando lore crumbs, mom and dad! ❤️ hbd pops

khloekardashian when I enter a haunted house but its just the fact that I’ve never been with a man who looks at me like that 😭 love y’all 🤍🤍

↳ user2 I always forget that YN has done a Good American line with Khloe and that they’re literally friends lmfao

↳ user3 they’re such a random duo but it makes sm sense 👀

↳ ynfanpage the pics of them together at the Austin GP honestly are the sweeeetest

carlossainz55 vamos landinho! Feliz cumpleaños amigo🌶️

mclaren happy birthday to the best dad on the grid! To this year and the rest working together! 🧡

↳ sweetliespodcast SAY IT LOUDER FOR THE DEADBEAT DAD AT THE BACK 🗣️

↳ kellypiquet beating a dead horse at this point

landonorris I don’t even know what to say. I’ve read this like fifteen times and I still can’t believe I get to be the guy you wrote this about. You and Sonny are the best thing that ever happened to me. Thank you for choosing me every day. I love you more than you’ll ever understand, always 🤍

user4 THIS IS SO CUTE BUT ALSO WHERE ARE THE SUNGLASSES LADY

↳ ynsurname I don’t think we’ll ever find out what happened to them but it’s fine, he bought me new ones to apologise hehehe 💃🏻

f1wagupdates this is the most heartwarming post and it’s so THEM, love you both immeasurably. Hbd soon to be champion!

user5 the way I wasn’t even a Lando guy until he got with YN is insane btw 👀

kikacgomes happy birthday to my wife’s boyfriend I guess… not v happy ab sharing ngl 🙂‍↕️

↳ landonorris you know you love me really Kika

↳ kikacgomes no ❤️

user6 happy birthday Lando!! I still remember meeting you in Austria when you took 5 minutes to talk to my shy little brother - he still has the photo taped to his wall 🧡 I bet you’re such an amazing dad because of that too

Twitter replies:

user1 he looks so natural with P, love seeing him getting to be a dad, YN doesn’t give him the opportunity 😒

user2 so Lana coded

f1gossip rumour has it Kelly Piquet is arriving a day later than Penelope and Max so Penelope is with her uncle, Nelson Piquet Jr, and Max, in the meantime 👀 anonymous source

user3 awww look at P’s cute lil toy that’s sweet ❤️

user4 cute moment whatever anyone says, he seems like such a chill guy. It’s a shame what happened in the past and that some people can’t see past it 🤷

user5 this is sweet but also ironic given… everything.

mariabish please remember kindness this weekend, please don’t drag people into things that they don’t want to be a part of 🩷🩷

user6 wild how he can show up for a kid who isn’t his and pretend his own doesn’t exist ✋

user7 deadbeat behaviour stays deadbeat no matter how many photo ops you do

user8 swear this fanbase is wild, let the man breathe

kellypiquet thank you to whoever caught this beautiful picture of them, how beautiful 🇦🇪🖤

user9 2021 racing but 2010s drama off track

user10 everyone is arguing in the comments over whether Max is a good dad or not without any consideration to how grey the situation is rather than black or white I mean he literally cheated and YN didn’t know she was pregnant, there’s bound to be residual hurt on her side she’s honestly so valid if she doesn’t let him see the baby but YOU DONT FUCKING KNOW THAT, just bc it hadn’t been pictured YET sooooo

victoriaverstappen He’s the best father. Full stop. Speculating is so cheap ):

liked by ciscanorris, zakbrownceo, ynsurname and 983k others

mclaren WORLD CHAMPION. 2025 belongs to our very own, not-so-little (anymore) Lando Norris 🧡🏆

From the kid who walked into our factory with big dreams and even bigger determination - to the man who never stopped fighting, never stopped believing - and most importantly never stopped pushing us forward.

Today, beneath the lights of Abu Dhabi, he made history. He pulled himself and the team to the top. Thank you for a true masterclass Lando, in speed, determination, grit, ambition and incredibly, loyalty.

Lando Norris. Father. McLaren Driver. World Champion, 2025. 🏆🧡

tagged: landonorris, andreastella, zakbrownceo, ynsurname

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oscarpiastri let’s go champ!! Proud of you mate, nobody deserves it more, I’ll get you next time! 🍾🔥

↳ landonorris my brother 🧡

user1 unfortunately the better man did not win, rip MV1 fans

f1gossip let’s go Lando, let’s go 🧡

charlesleclerc CHAMPION!! Huge congratulations Lando, incredible season 👏

f1 a season for the books 📚 congratulations Lando!

user2 LANDO NORRIS YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS

lewishamilton Congratulations Lando. Beautiful driving all season. Enjoy this moment 🙏

landonorris it was absolutely a team collaboration and I’m so grateful to anyone who’s been a part of my journey, past or present, who’s helped me get to this point in my career. Thank you for believing in me and seeing something that I always knew I could be 👑

↳ zakbrownceo drinks on me tonight big lad 💪 so proud of you!

↳ landonorris 👀 don’t try to lead me astray, I’m a dad now, I’ve got a bedtime lmao

↳ schecoperez dads can party! Go wild!

kikacgomes when is it my bfs turn tho? 👀❤️

user3 as a max fangirl, it hurts, as a child of divorce from max and YN? I’m so happy for their family rn

ynsurname everything a man should be 🧡🙂‍↕️

↳ f1gossip @maxverstappen1 👀🙊

↳ ynfanpage @maxverstappen1 🔥

user4 never cried over a sport in my life but HERE WE ARE

fernandoalonso watching you grow into a championship winning young man is one of the most incredible things, well deserved title, champion 👏

f1gossip first Max lost the trophy wife and now the actual trophy. Norris having both would’ve made me laugh 12 months ago istfg

↳ landonorris 😂❤️

user5 fucking iconic tbh

landonorrisfan god he’s so hot it hurts

↳ user6 I’ll probably get off to that champagne pic. Congrats to him for winning but congrats to YN Surname for getting to bounce on it ig

lilymhe CRYINGGGG WE LOVE YOU CHAMP 🧡

pierregasly bring the trophy to the after party. I wanna touch it 😤😩

f1wagupdates okay but like the common denominator among champions for the last half decade has been YN? Take a moment to reflect on that 😏

liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing, f1gossip and 1.1M others

kellypiquet some wins don’t come with trophies, we’re grateful for what truly matters 🤍✨

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user1 you really didn’t have to post this right now

↳ user2 lmfao right it’s the fact that she sat and chose a caption purposefully and thought she ate but it’s just so tone deaf and weird :)

user3 lucky max lmao

f1gossip posting this 14 mins after the YN’s comment on the McLaren post is wild I’m sure she stalks 😭

f1wagupdates mind you Max fumbled humble queen YN for this….. 👀

user4 i’m sure this is innocent but it doesn’t look innocent

↳ ynfanpage be so fr every time she posts it’s either shade at YN or a fucking alo yoga sponsorship

↳ user5 pahahaha so true she must be worried ab max leaving an taking his big bank acc w him 🤡

kellyfanpage so eloquent and beautiful, I love your family so much ❤️

redbullracing have a lovely winter break Max and family! 🎅🏼🎄

ynsurname so true, family is everything 🤍👼🏻

↳ kellypiquet to ynsurname keep your name out of my comments please!! ❤️✨

↳ maxverstappen1 to ynsurname 👼🏻

↳ kikacgomes to ynsurname omg girl lmfao you knew EXACTLY what you were doing with that one…

↳ ynsurname to kikacgomes 👀 oop

↳ user6 what is going on in the House of Commons

↳f1gossip lmfao max responding to YN’s comment on Kelly’s post but not on the actual post? And it’s about family meaning everything? 😑

↳ user7 the irony is writing itself istg 👀

aloyoga beautiful mama 💓

user8 not even shade if it’s true tbh, love u queen ❤️

mommyblogger P is getting so big and grown up and look at Lily! Oh my goodness!!

↳ kellypiquet it’s love and gentleness that makes children grow big and strong :)

↳ scienceblogger girl wtf 😬

user9 love a woman who speaks her truth 🤍

maxverstappenfanpage sorry about Max losing the title to that idiot, he absolutely deserved it 👑

user10 I think Max Verstappen still loves YN idk

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Baby Blues Taglist 💙

@freyathehuntress @ibetyouthinkaboutmefics @onlydeadcells @strawb3heart @raynetargaryan2 @d3kstar @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @mimisweetz @piston-cup @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @gandalfthegoatsblog @a-library-ofmy-own @lando-505 @okdokeygryssel63 @esw1012 @loveitwhenhelies @chaoswithus @dontsupressthejess @ravyn94 @bowielovesyou @mayax2o07 @remussbitch @wolfbc97 @camillyb @chlmtfilms @enjoythebutterflies11 @emluvsbunnies @ilovechickenwings @hi26loveie @fromsaltandsea @sesamepancakes @ohwhoisyou-rubyjane @v3nd3ttal3on @mel164 @bands-messed-me-up @yourbane @shawnscurlz @destinyg237 @lovelylunas-world @hey-there9-its-me @mel164 @fulla02 @fastandcurious16 @howling-wolf97 @maggiedog98 @czennieszn @raccoonintheforest @sukunassfinger @the-fandom-ness

[ibetyouthinkaboutmefics]

THAT LAWSUIT!!! LETS FUCKING GOOOOO 🎉 Do it, add Max to the lawsuit. Absolutely loving our girl and Lando so much 🥰 They’re genuinely the cutest 💕

[the-spicy-sugar]

I'm so happy I can't wait for the next Baby Blues ❤️❤️💙

YOURE GONNA FUCKING LOVE IT. HERES A PREQUEL TO THE SMAU BECAUSE I LOVE YOU ALL LMAO

Champion of the World

Baby Blues Series - Drabble

Lando Norris x Reader

Masterlist - Baby Blues Masterlist & Playlist

Summary: Lando wins the Drivers’ World Championship, 2025.

Note: Just a short Drabble before tonight’s smau about Lando’s win this afternoon 🧡 next part coming at 9pm tonight SMAU

wc 797

recommended listen: Electric Love by BØRNS

Heat clings to everything in Abu Dhabi, even now with the sky gone velvet dark and the track lights blazing like a thousand suns. The world feels too bright, too loud, too unreal as the cars pull in and the cheers surge around you. You’re crying and getting emotional already, seeing him pass the finish line means everything. It doesn’t matter that he’d beaten Max. 

For a moment there, you’re back in the moment in which the two of you met, a sweaty nightclub, pushed together by the surging crowd, not unlike the rush of entourage in Abu Dhabi that make up the McLaren team. Sweaty bodies pushed together, crowded by friends as Lando plucked the sunglasses you’re wearing for a joke, putting them on his own face instead, while someone snapped a picture of the moment. 

His win is everything. Every moment before now, every good and bad and hard and slow and painful and fast, every single fucking moment, an amalgamation of who he is, who he’s been, who he’ll become. Because it’s so clear that this is just the start for him.

Your hand presses over your mouth as the screens confirm what everyone has been hoping for. Lando has done it. Your Lando. Champion of the world. 

Cisca wraps an arm around your shoulders, steady and warm. Adam stands on your other side with a hand placed gently at your back, the kind of quiet support that tells you it is alright to let the emotion hit you as hard as it wants. You try to wipe your cheeks, but your mascara only smears more, leaving black tracks down your skin. You cannot stop shaking. All you can think is he did it he did it he did it.

You hear him before you see him. The roar of the crowd rises again, louder, sharper and then he appears through the cluster of papaya tops and flashing cameras.

He hugs his crew, he says something to an engineer, but his eyes are not staying anywhere for long. They keep searching, darting over shoulders and past the barriers, sweeping frantically like he cannot breathe until he finds you.

And then he does.

Everything else falls away for him in an instant. His whole body changes. His shoulders drop with relief. His smile cracks wide open, bright enough to burn through the night. He shoves off his gloves, throwing them carelessly to the floor despite someone waiting to take them, his helmet off after a moment, hair dripping and curled as he launches for you, scooping you up with an unrivalled desperation, crying into the crook of your neck. 

You try to say something to him, anything at all, but the sob that breaks from you makes your words useless.

He kisses you before you can catch your breath. It’s messy and fast and perfect. He kisses you like he needs you to anchor him, like he can’t quite believe his own reality until he feels you under his hands. You cling to him, fingers digging into the back of his suit, breathing in the sweat and heat and the sharp scent of celebration that lingers, though really, it doesn’t exist, just as much as it does.

He pulls back only enough to look at you, foreheads pressed together. His voice is rough and half-swallowed by the noisiness of the parc ferme. “I’m here for you, baby. Fuck.” He’s crying properly, tears sliding down his cheeks as he clasps you, unwilling to let go even for a second. “For Sonny.” Your feet lift from the floor and you’re spinning, taken into Lando’s arm with ease as his lips meet yours again, the cameras and noise and the hands of his parents on his shoulders fading to nothingness now that he’s got you, his reason and purpose. 

His life. 

Racing used to be his life. This title used to be his life. God, he remembers, he’d have given anything in the world to get to this moment, to right here, right now. But it all seemed so insignificant compared to the woman he loved and the son he’d found himself with. 

You shake your head, crying harder - and he laughs a little louder because he knows you’ll argue argue with him later about the idea of him winning for you or Sonny, probably when he’ s less overwhelmed. For now, he kisses your cheeks, your forehead, the corner of your mouth, every touch an unspoken promise that it’ll be like this from now on - good. 

Cisca and Adam watch with soft smiles, letting you both have this bubble of victory, understanding that somewhere along the way, Lando had grown up.

Back home, Sonny is sleeping, unaware that his father has just conquered his own small corner of the world.

Baby Blues Taglist 💙

@freyathehuntress @ibetyouthinkaboutmefics @onlydeadcells @strawb3heart @raynetargaryan2 @d3kstar @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @mimisweetz @piston-cup @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @gandalfthegoatsblog @a-library-ofmy-own @lando-505 @okdokeygryssel63 @esw1012 @loveitwhenhelies @chaoswithus @dontsupressthejess @ravyn94 @bowielovesyou @mayax2o07 @remussbitch @wolfbc97 @camillyb @chlmtfilms @enjoythebutterflies11 @emluvsbunnies @ilovechickenwings @hi26loveie @fromsaltandsea @sesamepancakes @ohwhoisyou-rubyjane @v3nd3ttal3on @mel164 @bands-messed-me-up @yourbane @shawnscurlz @destinyg237 @lovelylunas-world @hey-there9-its-me @mel164 @fulla02 @fastandcurious16 @howling-wolf97 @maggiedog98 @czennieszn @raccoonintheforest @sukunassfinger @the-fandom-ness 

[ibetyouthinkaboutmefics]

So happy to see Baby Blues back 🥰 Admittedly, in the Baby Blues world I was rooting for Lando. In real life I was rooting for Max 😭 The way I’m opposite

[teffyx]

The lost sister 14

Poly! Saja Boys x Mira’ Sister! Reader

PREV | NEXT

W.C: 4k+

Warnings: Angsty dreams, Explicit Sex, dirty talk, voyerism, a confession, kisses (?

N/A: I’m so so sorry for the long wait my loves. Being honest I’m kinda stuck for what is going to happen after this chapter so if you have any idea you can let me know! I would really appreciate it. Anyways hope you guys are okay, and if you celebrate Thanksgiving Happy Thanksgiving y’all!

You woke with a start.

The weight in your body was unbearable, a heavy stillness that pinned you down until your breathing steadied enough to move. The memory of your dream—or what you wished had been only a dream—looped endlessly in your head. That same choking darkness, the heat of invisible hands, the sound of fire breathing against your skin. You inhaled deeply, trying to believe the air would stay, that it wouldn’t vanish again.

When your arms finally obeyed you, a sharp sting flared along your left forearm. You froze. Slowly, you lifted your hand and turned it toward the faint light from the window—only to feel the blood drain from your face.

Five marks.

Not bruises. Not ink.

Faintly red, almost carved beneath the skin, circling your arm like a band. Each one different in shape and width, uneven yet deliberate, as though branded there by something that knew exactly what it wanted.

You touched them with trembling fingers.

One was thin and clean—Jinu’s precision.

Another curved like a smile—Romance’s charm.

The third felt solid, steady, grounded—Mistery’s quiet strength.

The fourth pulsed faintly, unpredictable, like Baby’s laughter when he tried to hide it.

And the fifth—deep, unwavering—felt like Abby. Constant. Watchful.

Together they formed a ring, something binding. Something alive.

You pulled your hand back as if burned.

It wasn’t a dream. And that terrified you more than anything.

You’d been avoiding them for days—snapping, hiding, pretending the distance was your choice. Because they seemed fine without you. Because they didn’t need you. Because if they ever had to choose, it wouldn’t be you.

You sat on the edge of the bed, tracing the marks again, your breath uneven. For a moment, you almost wished they’d hurt more. Pain would have been easier than whatever this was.

When you finally glanced at the clock, it was a little past nine. Only three hours since you’d fallen asleep. You already knew there would be no more rest tonight.

Your body ached to move—to feel something familiar, something real. You wanted the rhythm, the structure, the discipline of motion. You wanted to dance until the air stopped burning in your lungs.

You showered quickly, scrubbing the heat from your skin until it dulled. Then you dressed—soft gray sweatpants, a white tank top, and an old cropped hoodie you’d worn for years. You tied your hair back loosely, slipped on socks, and stared at your reflection one last time before stepping into the hallway.

The silence was unnerving.

The building always hummed with life, but now it was still—so still it made the back of your neck prickle. You walked quietly, almost gliding across the floorboards, the faint hum of the elevator down the hall your only guide.

Until you heard it.

A sound—low, drawn out, caught between a sigh and a gasp. Then another, heavier, layered with something rougher. You stopped before you could stop yourself. The sound came from one of the rooms ahead, a door slightly ajar.

Mystery’s room.

You should have kept walking. You knew that. But curiosity, or something dangerously close to longing, rooted your feet to the spot.

You took one hesitant step closer.

The faint golden light from inside spilled through the narrow crack in the door, cutting across the floor. You could see movement—shadows shifting together, breath catching, skin against skin in the half-dark. You couldn’t see faces, only outlines, but you could feel the rhythm of their closeness, the heat that filled the air between them.

A low, guttural groan sliced through the silence, followed quickly by a sharp whimper.

Curiosity overriding caution, you peered through the narrow gap. The sight immediately sent a hot flush up your neck.

Mystery was straddling Baby —no, he was pounding into him. His back was slick with sweat, the muscles in his legs and arms taut as he drove his hips forward with brutal efficiency.

You could only hear the high-pitched cries and the low, possessive growls, punctuated by the rhythmic slapping of skin and the creak of the headboard.

He leaned down, his voice a gravelly murmur that you could barely catch.

"Don't try to hide that face, " he commanded, the Spanish word dripping with dark pleasure. “Are you thinking about her. Don’t you?”

Baby choked on a scream, burying his face in the pillow, tears mixing with sweat. "Myst, please! You’re too deep, a- ah!"

His thrusts didn't slow; they intensified, pushing Baby against the mattress. "Too deep? Good. You like it when they take you hard and leave a mark, don't you? Beg for them. Beg for the one you want to ruin you."

His voice broke in a frantic, desperate plea. "I want it! God, I want them both! Please! I can’t—I can’t!"

Mystery laughed, a rough, triumphant sound. "You're all mine right now. You'll take everything I give you, and you’ll remember who put you here."

Something in his words—hard, teasing, intimate—made you understand without needing to hear everything. There was no place for you in that room, but part of you ached to be there anyway.

A potent mix of shock and scalding desire hit you. Your breath hitched, your throat constricting. The explicit mention of the baby's fantasy—Begging for her—sent a dizzying, intense yearning pulsing between your legs. An insane, desperate craving seized you to be the one beneath him, to be the focus of that brutal, consuming attention. Or both of them. The sheer power of the scene was overwhelming.

Your breath stilled.

You pulled back quickly, your pulse thundering in your ears, the marks on your arm burning again as if in answer. You didn’t look again.

You just walked.

Faster this time. Past the door, past the silence, into the elevator where the mirrored walls caught the flush on your cheeks.

You stared at your reflection and saw it all—the wanting, the shame, the confusion, the way your chest rose too fast.

When the doors opened again, the air below felt different—cooler, steadier. The practice rooms stretched out before you, empty and waiting.

You stepped inside, dropped your bag by the wall, and stood in the center of the room. But you couldn’t stop hearing them.

Baby’s breathless sounds, Mystery’s low, commanding growls—each one replayed in your mind like an echo that refused to fade.

And the words. I want her.

They haunted you more than the sounds themselves.

Your heart, reckless as ever, begged to believe that her meant you.

But your mind shut the thought down before it could take form. There was no way. Not you.

You shoved those thoughts deep into the corners of your mind, shaking your head as if you could physically push them out. You weren’t going to fall into that spiral again—not today.

The practice floor in front of you felt like salvation. Bright lights glared softly against the polished wood; the mirrored wall reflected an image you barely recognized. Yet somehow, standing there, surrounded by silence and space, you felt more at home than you had in months.

You exhaled slowly, letting the breath leave your body like a quiet surrender.

Then you moved.

You slipped off your shoes and sat on the cold floor, lacing up a pair of worn, pale ballet slippers—scuffed, frayed at the edges, but still familiar. You wore black cycling shorts and a loose grey long sleeve shirt tied at your waist; simple, practical, nothing that demanded attention. Just something that allowed you to move.

Your phone connected to the sound system with a soft chime, and the room filled with the first few notes of a song you didn’t even remember adding to your playlist.

And then—it all vanished.

The memory of Mystery’s voice, the marks on your arm, the ache in your chest—gone.

There was only rhythm. Breath. Motion.

Your body remembered before your mind did.

Your arms extended, feet pointed, spine curved with the precision of muscle memory older than your fear. You turned once, twice, your reflection spinning into a blur of movement and light.

It was instinct. The choreography flowed from somewhere buried deep inside you, something untouched by time. You didn’t have to think; your body knew.

The music swelled and you followed it, every motion threaded with the grace and restraint you’d once been praised—and punished—for.

When you were younger, dance had been your entire world. Ballet had given you purpose, control, perfection—but also hunger, exhaustion, and loneliness. You remembered the diets, the whispered critiques, the hours staring at your reflection, picking apart what was wrong instead of what was beautiful.

But on stage, none of it mattered.

The world disappeared under the lights. And for a moment—just like now—you forgot that life could hurt.

You kept moving until your breath came in ragged bursts, your skin glistening with sweat, your heart beating in rhythm with the fading music.

When the final note broke, so did you.

You stopped mid-spin, one hand hovering near your chest, your eyes closed. Silence wrapped around you like fog.

And then—applause.

Soft, slow, deliberate.

Your eyes flew open.

Someone was standing at the door.

Jinu.

His expression stole the air right out of your lungs. His usual calm was there, yes—but now it was threaded with something warmer, deeper. His eyes followed you as though he were trying to memorize every part of you, as though he couldn’t believe what he’d just seen.

For a long, fragile second, neither of you spoke.

You blinked, stepping back slightly, instinctively looking down. You couldn’t stand that look in his eyes—not when you didn’t deserve it. Not after yelling at him less than a day ago.

You swallowed hard. You deserved anger, not tenderness. Disdain, not awe.

But he only smiled. A soft, breathtaking smile that pulled at the corners of his lips like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.

“That,” he said quietly, his voice low and reverent, “was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

You froze.

He took a hesitant step forward, rubbing the back of his neck, his smile turning shy.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude. I—I couldn’t find you for breakfast . I heard the music and... I shouldn’t have watched. It just—” He paused, meeting your eyes. “It was impossible not to.”

You shook your head quickly. “It’s nothing. Really. I’m just... rusty.”

He laughed softly under his breath. “If that’s rusty, then I’d hate to see what you look like in full form. You’re—” He stopped himself, exhaling. “You’re incredible, Y/N.”

You felt your chest tighten, the words too much, too kind. “You don’t have to say that.”

“I’m not saying it because I have to,” he replied, a flicker of seriousness in his tone. “It’s the truth. It’s the best thing I’ve seen in years. And trust me, when you’ve lived more than three hundred of them, that means something.”

You let out a weak, disbelieving laugh. “You don’t have to lie, Jinu.”

His smile faded, replaced by something deeper—steady, unwavering.

“I’ve never lied to you,” he said simply.

The silence that followed was heavy, fragile.

He took a slow step closer. Then another.

Your breath caught.

“I owe you an apology,” he said softly. “For yesterday. For pushing too hard.”

You shook your head, cutting him off. “No. I owe you one. I shouldn’t have yelled. I shouldn’t have said those things. I know you’re interested in Huntrix—how could you guys not be? The girls are... they are everything I’m not.”

You forced a weak smile, but your throat felt tight, your words trembling as they left you. “You all deserve someone like them, attractive, famous, stars like you guys are. I get it. I’m no one, I shouldn’t—”

“Stop,” Jinu murmured.

But you couldn’t.

“I mean it, Jinu. I shouldn’t have gotten involved. You should hate me for how I’ve acted, and honestly—”

“Y/N.” His voice rose, just enough to make you stop.

You blinked at him.

He took one more step until he was standing right in front of you, so close you could feel the warmth radiating off him. His voice dropped again, lower this time, steady and sure.

“It’s not them.”

You frowned. “What?”

“It’s not they that we want.” He hesitated, then said it again, firmer. “It’s you.”

Your breath hitched. “No—”

“Yes,” he interrupted, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your knees weak. “It’s you we can’t stop thinking about. You we’d burn the world for.”

You shook your head, your voice trembling. “Don’t say that. You don’t mean it. You just—pity me, and I’m not—”

You didn’t finish.

Because Jinu closed the space between you and kissed you.

It wasn’t careful. It wasn’t rehearsed.

It was real—raw, sudden, electric.

His hand found your cheek, thumb brushing your skin with a tenderness that broke something open inside you. The warmth of his mouth against yours made everything else blur—the room, the silence, even your fear.

You gripped his shirt in your fists, clinging to him like you might fall apart otherwise.

The kiss deepened, not rushed, but full—like a confession he’d been holding in for lifetimes.

The faint sound of your breath mingled with his, and when you finally pulled back, barely an inch apart, you realized your heart was still racing in time with his.

And for the first time in a very long time, you didn’t feel like running.

Yesterday, when you arrived…” Jinu’s voice comes out low, almost trembling, like he’s afraid that saying it too loud might shatter something fragile between you. His thumb brushes against your cheek as if he’s trying to memorize the shape of your skin. “I swear, Y/N, I… I froze. Seeing you like that—your eyes, your face—I didn’t even know what to do. We were terrified. Not because of what happened, but because we knew…” His voice breaks softly, and his jaw tightens. “Because we knew we were the reason behind your pain.”

Your breath catches. His eyes are filled with that same kind of regret that twists your chest until it’s hard to breathe. Jinu swallows, his words trembling but certain. “You’ve always said you see us. That somehow, even when the rest of the world can’t, you do. I can’t forgive myself, not if I ever make you doubt that again. Not if I ever make you cry again because of me.”

You laugh then—weakly, brokenly, tears still tracing your cheeks. The sound surprises both of you; it’s too small, too fragile, but it feels real. “You sound like you’re about to write me a ballad,” you mumble between sobs, trying to smile, trying to believe him. “Next thing I know, you’ll be apologizing with a song and flowers.”

Jinu’s expression softens, almost in pain—but then he leans forward and kisses you again. It’s slower this time. Less desperate, more human. His lips taste faintly of salt and something warm, something like surrender.

When he pulls back, he stays close enough that his breath mixes with yours. “Oh, baby,” he whispers, so tenderly it almost hurts. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that. How many nights I’ve thought about what it would feel like… to finally tell you.”

You blink at him, dazed. “Tell me what?”

“That we’ve been idiots,” he says, a short, bitter laugh escaping him. “All of us. Idiots for not telling you sooner. Idiots for letting you think any of this—any of us—was just a game. You didn’t imagine it, YN. You never did.” His hand moves up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Since the moment I found you that night—when you fought off that man in the street—something inside me just… stopped. I looked at you, bruised and still standing, and my heart decided that was it. You were it.”

The room goes still, air heavy with the sound of your breathing. His confession feels too beautiful, too raw to exist in the same world as the pain you’ve been carrying.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” Jinu continues, voice shaking like he’s confessing a secret he’s held for too long. “Your voice. Your laugh. The way you make noise disappear when you walk into a room. It’s not quiet—it’s peace.” His eyes glimmer. “And that’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

You can’t stop crying now. The tears come harder, unstoppable, the way waves crash once they realize the shore won’t move away. He wipes them one by one with the pads of his thumbs, smiling faintly even as his own eyes water. “Come on,” he says softly. “Let me take you back to the apartment. The others are dying to talk to you—Abby, Baby, Mystery, Romance—they’ve been waiting all day.”

Your chest tightens again. You shake your head quickly. “No. No, Jinu, they must hate me. After yesterday—after what I said—how could they even want to see me? I was awful. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve any of this.” Your words come out fast, trembling. “I’m the worst.”

“Hey.” His tone is a whisper, but it cuts through everything. He cups your face again, thumb tracing the edge of your lips to quiet you. “Don’t say that. Not even as a joke. You don’t get to decide what you deserve—we do. And we say you deserve the world.”

You want to argue, but his eyes won’t let you. They’re too sincere, too steady, holding you there until the trembling in your chest softens just a little.

He extends his hand, palm open, waiting. You stare at it for a long moment before finally taking it. His fingers close around yours with quiet certainty, grounding you.

The walk to the elevator feels both endless and too fast. You can still feel your pulse thrumming in your wrists, the ghost of his kiss lingering like a heartbeat that refuses to fade.

When the elevator doors slide shut, you finally let out the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. The hum of the machinery fills the silence. Then—a flicker of light, a sudden lurch—and you feel your knees weaken.

“Jinu…” you whisper, dizzy. “I think I’m—”

Before you can finish, his hand is already there, steadying you, his other hand brushing down your arm. “Hey, look at me,” he murmurs, voice low and reassuring. “You’re okay. You’re safe. I’ve got you.” His thumb draws lazy circles against your skin, and you breathe again.

The elevator dings. The doors open.

Light spills into the hall.

And there they are—the other four.

Abby is sitting forward on the couch, worry written all over her face. Baby stands with his arms crossed, eyes red-rimmed. Mystery lingers in the corner, expression guarded but soft. And Romance—Romance looks like he hasn’t slept at all. The faint shadows beneath his eyes make him look almost fragile in the golden light.

The moment they see you, all four of them rise at once.

Your pulse races. Jinu squeezes your hand once before letting go, whispering quietly near your ear, “Just breathe. They’re here because they care. Let them show you.”

And as you take a trembling step into the room, every ounce of fear, confusion, and love inside you collides—turning the air electric, suspended on the edge of something new.

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Part 15

[join-the-pride]

𝕊𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕥𝕦𝕒𝕣𝕪 |ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕋𝕖𝕟

Saja Boys x Demon!Reader

Summery: Kept hidden for nearly one thousand years, the daughter of Gwi-Ma, the demon king, is being tracked down by an unlikely bunch, hired by the king himself. To keep herself from her father's grasps, she makes an offer that they can't refuse.

All she asks in return, is for her identity never be revealed to the king.

Previous | Next(soon)

Reminder for Saja Boys new names-

Baby: Jae Mystery: Jeong Romance: Seo-Jun Abby: Beomseok

"You sure I'm not too heavy, Beomseok?" Y/n asked the buff man beneath her. Beomseok, raising up from another pushup scoffed. "Please. This is nothing." He said before going down again. Beomseok insisted that Y/n sit on his back while he does pushups, said it would help with his work out.

"If you say so." Y/n said before turning her attention back to her phone screen. She came across a post involving the Saja Boys and read closer.

'Saja Boys on hiatus! The beloved idol group gone quiet? Ever since the major success of the Saja Boy's hit single "Soda Pop" and their rapidly spreading fame, the idol group has steadily gone silent. With no news of their return, new music, or live performances, the future of the Saja Boys is unknown.'

Y/n smirked. 'That's because they aren't coming back.' She thought to herself. It was for the best. Their music and idol personas were nothing but a vessel for Gwi-Ma to steal souls of countless fans. No idols. No souls.

Y/n looked down from her screen to Beomseok. "Why do you like working out so much?" She asked. Beomseok paused a moment. "Keeps me strong." He says before continuing.

"Yeah, keeps most people strong." Y/n shrugs. "But you seem to really like it, and your muscles. I swear, there is more shirtless pictures of you online than not."

Beomseok chuckles. "Well, can't lie there. I do enjoy having them. But it's not a vanity thing."

"Then what is it? Just to be strong?" Y/n asks curiously. Bemonseok pauses again, but this time, Y/n could sense there was something on his mind. She got off his back and took a seat next to him. "Is it something you want to talk about?" She asked carefully, not wanting to force an answer out of him.

Beomseok gave a humorless laugh. "I haven't really talked about it to anyone before." He sat up straight, his gaze landing everywhere but Y/n. "I wasn't always strong. In fact, I was a pretty scrawny person before I became a demon. All skin and bones."

Y/n listened quietly, allowing him to continue when and if he was ready.

"My family was poor. We couldn't afford to eat, and because of that we were all feeble and weak. Me, being the oldest of my two brothers, and with a dying father, I stepped up to take charge and keep us fed somehow. I worked job after job, but with me being so weak, I couldn't keep up and therefor, never made much money."

"Eventually...my father died of his sickness. Leaving only me, my two little brothers, and our mother. It was only a matter of time before death took my mother or my little brothers. Or me, but I didn't care much about that. So long as I could keep them fed and healthy, I was happy. But I never could...and that's when I started hearing his voice..."

'You're too weak to save them...they'll all die one by one...and there is nothing you can do to stop it...But I can help you...'

"Gwi-Ma made me strong, every day, my muscles started to show until I was finally able to work multiple jobs without much rest. I was bringing food home to my family, medicine to treat their sickness." There was the smallest of smiles on Beomseok's face, at the memory of his family finally being healthy. But his smile quickly faded as he went on.

"Then our village was raided. I stayed behind to keep my family and the rest of the villagers safe. I managed to fight most of them off...and then...that's when it started. The smell of their blood, how it felt on my hands, on my face...it was...overwhelmingly addictive. The fight for survival had turned into a fight for the thrill of fighting." There was a look shame on his face as he continued.

"I didn't stop...not until they were dead, a bloody mess at my feet. My marks had appeared, my true form showing at last. My family saw me like that...and they swore that I was not their own. I wasn't. Not after that. I was no longer my mother's son. I was no longer the big brother my siblings looked up to. I was...a monster. A demon..."

His fists curled tightly, shaking. "I never saw them again...Next thing I knew, I was in the Underworld. And there Gwi-Ma was...my king. And I, his loyal slave..."

"I promised long before then, that I would use my new strength to protect those who couldn't protect themselves...but after that night...I completely lost myself and what I was fighting for."

Y/n carefully placed her hand onto Beomseok's hand, he looked to her with teary eyes. Y/n's thumb gently stroked over his palm as she spoke. "You wanted to do good. Gwi-Ma made you believe your strength would have helped more than harmed. I believe you would have been a great protector, I believe you still can be."

Beomseok tried to speak, but felt a warming sensation at his hand. He looked down to see his demon markings showing. He tried to pull back, but Y/n's hold remained firm. Her own markings were showing as well.

"This is the third time it's happened." Y/n tells him. "I don't think it's a bad thing." Beomseok looks to her after taking his eyes off his hand. "It's...warm." He murmured. "You're warm. You're so unlike Gwi-Ma...his fire harms, I feel as if my entire body is burning whenever I'm around him. But you...it's like coming in from a snowstorm, and sitting close to a fireplace."

Y/n smiled slightly. "I'm glad. At least we know I'm not harmful to you or the others. But my fire is just as deadly..."

Beomseok moved his free hand up to cup her cheek. "It doesn't have to be. Remember, Yeong-Cheol said if we can protect you and keep you away from Gwi-Ma, your powers will do good instead of evil."

Y/n leaned into his touch. "I hope so. I'm just...I'm so tired of running. I hate him and I'd rather die than be anything like him."

"You're nothing like him." Beomseok said firmly. "You've proven that time and time again. Don't worry, this whole mess will be behind you soon." He looked into her eyes as he spoke. "I promise. Me and the rest of the guys will make sure of it."

Later that night, Y/n was atop the roof of her apartment building. She sat with her legs crossed, breathing in and out deeply. She raised her hands and tried to summon a bit of fire in her palms. Her marks began to shine through, but nothing else came of her demonic powers.

She opened her eyes and looked down at her hands, trying desperately to summon up some fire. And still, nothing. Y/n sighed. "How am I suppose to get rid of Gwi-Ma if I can't use my powers?" She murmured.

"It's probably best you don't for now."

Y/n looked over her shoulder to see Jinu, he approached her, standing at her side. "It'll be easier for him to track and send more demons after you." He tells her. "Though, that last display of strength might have sacred some of them."

"I didn't like doing it." Y/n murmured. "But I have to, it's the only way I can get rid of him for good."

Jinu looked down at her. "You don't think the hunters can do it?" He asked. Y/n sighed. "It's not that I don't have faith in them, it's just...Gwi-Ma is far more powerful than they might realize. You know it to be true. His words alone...have the power to break even the strongest of minds. Even demon hunters..."

There had been many demon hunters who have lost their lives to demons, and many more, who have lost their lives to Gwi-Ma himself. By his power...or by their own hands...

"My only chance of stopping him is to work along side them. Though...other than Rumi, I doubt they would be willing to accept it." Y/n murmured. "I've never known a demon hunter who is also a demon...But, I've never known anything like myself either. So I guess anything is possible."

Jinu sat down next to her. "Even defeating Gwi-Ma." He concludes. "We'll figure something out. We have to. Because I for one am so tired of it all...he holds my memories over me like a constant reminder of how I ruined...everything."

Y/n looked to him. "He made you believe that."

"No." Jinu said firmly. "I made my choices all on my own. It's my fault I'm where I am today. The only real harm Gwi-Ma has done is reminded me of that."

"Jinu..." Y/n try to reach for his hand, but stopped once he flinched away.

"There's no changing the past, I know that." Said Jinu. "But that doesn't mean I can't help better the future for other lost souls like mine. And if it means saving a soul as bright as yours..." He looked to Y/n. "I swear, I'll help you defeat Gwi-Ma. Even if it costs my life."

Y/n smiled slightly. "It won't come down to that. I'll make sure of it."

"Oh, will you?"

Jinu and Y/n froze...they both heard it...Him...

Before any of them could make a move, Jinu was gone, forcibly drug to the Underworld. He could hear Y/n crying his name before everything went dark...

Jinu landed roughly, he groaned as he pulled himself up. He looked around, and of course, he was back where he started. Only, the others were here too. They all looked to each other, slight panic in their eyes.

"After everything I've done for you..."

The boys all turned their attention to the mass of pink and violet flames atop the large stairway.

"And you decide to betray me?"

None of them spoke...

"You...ungrateful, pitiful, worthless souls!"

As Gwi-Ma's anger spiked, so did the pain he unleashed onto each one of them. They all crumpled to the ground, writhing in agony.

"You've already made a grave mistake by not returning my daughter! To lie and go behind my back as you did!" Gwi-Ma yelled. "But to utterly betray me like this! It is unforgivable!"

Another wave of pain shot through them. It felt as if there were a wildfire bursting to life within the very deepest parts of their being. Their souls crying out in pure, horrible agony...

"Have you forgotten who you each were before me!?" Gwi-Ma growled, venom lacing his voice as he spoke, looking to each of them one by one.

"Useless!"

Baby, Jae, bit down hard on his lip, drawing blood. He would not allow Gwi-Ma to hear his cries. He's heard enough...centuries worth...

"Hideous!"

Romance, Seo-Jun, could not bare to look to any of them. He wanted to believe that Gwi-Ma was wrong, but his words cut him deep...

"Weak!"

Abby, Beomseok, growled trying to fight back against Gwi-Ma's hold. But, he wasn't strong enough...

"Beast!"

Mystery, Jeong, whimpered his head lowered in submission. He felt pitiful doing so...but it was only right he did. He was nothing but a worthless mutt...

"Selfish!"

Jinu felt tears brimming in his eyes, the memory of his sister and mother pleading for him not to leave them...it was too much...Too fresh in his mind...

"Do not forget...I gave you a second chance. I am the one made you better! You'd all be nothing, forgotten to time, without me!" Gwi-Ma hissed sharply. "I should have you alle erased right now...But I won't."

The pain finally started to die down, but never completely left, just enough for them to fully comprehend what Gwi-Ma was saying.

"You five are lucky, you have served me well over the last centuries. Otherwise I would not so much as give this a second thought. You have one last chance to redeem yourselves, and to save yourselves from nonexistence..."

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[ibetyouthinkaboutmefics]

I’m so stressed 😭 I don’t think they’d turn on her but….I’m also not 100% sure

[yogirl-willow]

The Crimson Pact | Part 1

Parts: Characterizations | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

SoulBond!AU

Pairings: Yandere!Saja Boys x F!Reader Synopsis: You were never supposed to remember them.

Four hundred years ago, a pact was made—a blood-soaked bond tying five demons to one human soul: yours.

They’ve waited lifetimes for your reincarnation, cursed with obsession, tethered by fate.

And now that you’ve returned?

They’ll burn the world before they let you go again.

Warnings: Soul bond with the Saja Boys, Yandere themes!, soulbonding without full consent, obsessive behavior / possessiveness, mild stalking, romantic psychological tension, mentions of implied past death / reincarnation, intense emotional fixation, yearning, non-graphic threats of harm from a third party (Gwi Ma).

Author's notes: Hey guys! My first fic on Tumblr. I've been deep in a hole for Saja boys x Reader fics and have been inspired by all the ones currently out. Thought I'd give it a go and make my own. This is also just me purely projecting my fantasies (lol). But will post more on this story and will make more parts!

───────── ༺🜃༻ ─────────

The Saja boys are all demons.

They are wrath and ruin. Jealousy and death.

And yet, before her, they kneel.

Because she is the Heart. Because her soul is what keeps them from unraveling into true monsters. Because they were bound by her love and her curse.

They don’t just crave her—they depend on her. Without her presence, their minds deteriorate. Their bodies decay. Their hunger becomes unbearable.

Only Y/N’s touch tames the demon inside.

────────── ⚘ ──────────

A Sudden Encounter

You’re just… tired.

You work long shifts at a cramped little gallery café in Hongdae. Your boss forgets to pay you on time. Rent’s due. Your roommate’s a ghost (figuratively). Your family doesn’t call.

It’s not tragic. Just quietly heavy. Most days are filled with the same mundane routine. The stress of adulting weighs in on you most nights making you feel more fatigued than you should.

Your art is the only thing that feels like yours—until it doesn’t. Lately, even your sketches look like someone else’s memories. The past few weeks of downtime have been spent sketching images you vaguely recognize from dreams you forgot you even had. 

You walk through life like it’s background noise.

Then, one afternoon, on the way to grab milk and instant ramen…you hear music on the street.

Lugging your grocery trolley (because god knows you don’t have the strength to carry a week’s worth of grocery bags on your arms), you spot that a crowd has gathered in the plaza. The atmosphere buzzes with excitement. People are pushing each other to get a view of whatever it was that was making the crowd go nuts.

Curiosity gets the best of you, and next thing you know you’re walking towards the center of the square. Grocery trolley rolling behind you. Someone steps on it, warranting a quick “Sorry” and they scurry to the front. You turn your head forward to see whatever it was they desperately wanted to see.

You stop.

Up on a raised platform, five boys move like a single body—synchronized, supernatural, magnetic. Their colorful outfits shimmer under the lights, a kaleidoscope of sugar-rush perfection. The crowd is screaming, but all you hear is the song—“Soda Pop”—sickeningly sweet and pulsing like thunder in your chest.

You don’t recognize them.

Were they new? A secret debut? A niche group you missed? 

And then you see them.

The Saja Boys. Five gorgeous faces, carved out of dreams and danger, singing like they already know you.

Your heart stutters.

Front and center is the one with the jet-black hair and fire behind his smile. His eyes sweep the crowd like he owns it—until they lock on you. And then it’s like the world tips sideways.

You can’t breathe.

Something ancient uncoils in your ribcage—a thread pulling taut, like it’s found its anchor.

The stage beneath them morphs—no, rises—into a giant soda can, and the absurdity nearly makes you laugh, but the pressure in your chest is louder.

The song ends. The crowd erupts. They strike their final poses like gods frozen mid-conquest. And still—he’s looking at you. Right at you.

He lifts a hand, brushes off his shoulder like he’s dusting you into place. “That’s it for now,” he says to the crowd.

His speaking voice slides down your spine like silk dipped in fire. Familiar. Impossible.

“See you tonight on everyone’s favorite variety show…” His gaze doesn’t waver.  “Saja Boys love you!”

You don’t know how you’re still standing. The other members turn too—one by one, their expressions shifting. Eyes no longer playful. They’re looking at you like they remember something you haven’t yet.

And then—pink smoke.

They vanish.

You’re left in a sea of people, lungs hollow, skin prickling like it’s just been marked.

You don’t know who they are. You don’t know what just happened. But your hands are shaking on the trolley handle. And you’re sprinting home like something inside you just woke up and started screaming.

────────── ⚘ ──────────

They apparated back into the apartment in a burst of cold smoke.

Jinu collapsed first.

Not into a chair. Not onto the couch. He sank straight to the floor.

Hands tangled in his hair, breath shallow. Like the air couldn’t reach deep enough. Like he’d been holding it for centuries. His voice cracked like something ancient being unearthed.

“It’s her.”

Romance was already pacing the length of the living room, long strides restless, fingers tugging at his shirt collar like it was choking him. “I—I thought I was hallucinating,” he muttered. “Some kind of cruel glamour. A mirage. But the bond—” His voice shook. “The bond snapped tight.”

Abby dropped into the couch, the cushions barely softening the weight of his frame. His knuckles were white, gripping his thighs. “I felt her heartbeat.” He looked up, dazed. Wild. “During the bridge—our hearts matched. I know it was her.”

Mystery hadn’t moved. He stood near the window, face shadowed, fists clenched so tight his nails carved into skin. His lips were moving in a near-silent whisper—over and over like a broken prayer.

“She’s scared… she doesn’t remember… but she felt it. She felt it.”

Baby sat furthest from them all, on the floor beside the armchair.  Blood dripped from his palm—he didn’t seem to notice. Eyes wide. Hollow. Haunted.

Like seeing you broke the silence inside him. Like he’d finally found the ghost that’d been crawling under his skin for lifetimes.

No one breathed. The room felt cracked. Like a single touch would shatter it.

Abby ran a hand down his face. “What do we do?” He was still staring at his hands. Still disbelieving. “Is this a trick? Is Gwi Ma playing with us again? Using her face to haunt us?”

Jinu looked up slowly, lashes damp, lips pale. He bit the nail of his thumb, the taste of anxiety sharp on his tongue.

“We wait,” he said softly. “We plan.”

Romance scoffed, but there was no humor in it. He was trembling as he smiled.

“We charm.”

Mystery let out a low snarl. “We go to her. She’s alone. She’s hurting. I can feel her.”

And then—finally—Baby spoke. Just one line.

Quiet. Final. Unshakable.

“We take her back.”

────────── ⚘ ──────────

You curl up on your couch with a microwaved dinner, phone propped up on a cushion. You don’t normally watch idol shows. But…

You press play.

They’re charming. Playful. Competitive. Too beautiful. Too perfect. You watch them struggle with the hot sauce challenge, lips curling upwards at some of the boys’ faces. 

Your chest aches.

You don’t know them. But you can’t look away.

When they joke, you laugh. When they flirt with the camera, your stomach flips. When Baby stares dead into the lens, you freeze. 

You watch as Baby wins the spicy challenge, somehow a part of you knew he would. You couldn’t explain why. You watch as Huntrix makes a surprise appearance. You weren’t a crazed fanatic or anything, but you did enjoy their music. When they bowed at each other, a part of your chest ached. You don’t know why, but something didn’t sit well with you seeing the boys interact with the girl group. Why? You had no claim over them. You felt like you were going crazy.

You don’t sleep that night.

────────── ⚘ ──────────

Later that night, after filming wraps…

The Saja Boys find themselves ambushed by Huntrix—Rumi, Zoey, and Mira—demon-hunting girls who are too fast, too smart, and too close to the truth.

The boys run, Jinu being caught into a fight with Rumi which leads to him finding out her secret. A Hunter who’s part demon. He gives it some thought as he walks out of the bath house. Then, his thoughts shift to you.

Did you watch the show tonight? What were you doing right now? Did you remember him at all?

Then suddenly he’s pulled into Gwi Ma’s chamber.

Smoke. Fire. Screams locked in stone. The demons are cheering for the boys, now in their demon forms. Gwi Ma sings the chorus of Soda Pop. 

“It’s catchy” 

He brings up Rumi- the hunter who bears his mark. He tells Jinu he has no control over her. Jinu remains curious, telling him that he can find out her shame and use it against her to bring the Hunters down. 

Then, Gwi Ma’s flames rise. The tension in the air thickens as the four other boys on the ground below are brought to stand next to Jinu before the Demon King.

“However, I sense that you’ve lost your focus,” the Demon king hisses. His flames grow —and conjures a mirage image of you, asleep in bed, cheek pressed to your pillow. The boys tense at the sight of you. 

Their anger rises. They don’t like that you’re being presented to them like this- in front of all demons to see. Of course- everyone else in the Demon realm had an inkling- an idea of what you were to the five. It was unspoken, a rumor that spread throughout the years - that they had tied their ancient souls to a human hundreds of years ago. But no details of that pact had been known. And now, the boys were livid as every demon knew your face.

Abby grit his teeth, immediately standing and stepping forward. He didn’t want any other demons seeing you, gazing at what was his. “Don’t-!”

Jinu grabbed his shoulder back, willing his friend to calm down, even though he was struggling to contain his own anger. 

“That girl... is she going to be a problem? A… distraction?” His voice was teasing. A sickeningly playful tone meant to mock them.

The boys bristle, their jaws clenched as they see the demon king’s image of you. You- who was so precious to them. Jinu steps forward, eyes hard. “She is ours. You made it so. The pact cannot be undone.”

Gwi Ma’s image of you faded and the boys all visibly relaxed, though still tense.

Gwi Ma spoke once again, voice teasing. “You remember, don’t you, Jinu? How you came crawling to me, weeping like a child the moment she died in your arms.”

Jinu’s eyes widened, haunted at the memory.

Gwi Ma continued. “You begged me to bring her back. But I gave you something better.

A deal.

Bind four others to her soul. Trap their power. Anchor her across lifetimes—and I’d let her return.

And you did it.

You found them. Broken little things. Monsters like you. You forced the bond. You made her the center of your madness.

You cursed her to be wanted. Needed. Torn apart by obsession.

All for what?

To share her?

To watch her slip through your fingers again and again?”

The boys visibly grew more tense with every word he uttered. Romance grit his teeth, and Baby’s nails dug so deep into his palms they began to bleed again. They were monsters who desperately clung to the only light they had. Demons who tainted the purest thing they had ever laid eyes on. The guilt. The shame. All weigh heavy on their hearts, but not as heavy as their deep desire for you. 

Gwi Ma continued. “No matter how close she gets… she’ll never truly be yours.

But if you succeed—if you finish what I told you to—maybe I’ll give her to you.

All of you.

For good.”

Their heads snapped up at that. Disbelief and false hope gleaming in their yellow demon eyes. 

Gwi Ma’s flames shift to a smile as he saw their non-subtle desperation. “Then here’s my offer.”

“Succeed. Harvest the souls before the Honmoon seals, bring down the hunters. Do your job. And I’ll let her live.”

“Fail… and I rip her from the cycle. She’ll never be reborn again.”

The boys snap their heads up. Shock, desperation, and fury ablaze on their faces. He wouldn’t dare. The boys don’t speak. But silent thoughts race through their heads. They wouldn’t have to wait centuries for you? All the endless years of loneliness and suffering… if they succeeded, they’d be gone. And you would be theirs. Fully. No more dying, no more waiting. Theirs, for all eternity. 

The offer was weighing heavy in their minds. But it wasn’t even a question. How far would they go to have you? The answer was that there were no limits. No lines they wouldn’t cross. No world they wouldn’t burn to keep you.

They just kneel, a silent agreement. 

They’ve waited centuries. They can wait a little longer.

But this time, they won’t just protect you.

They’ll possess you.

────────── ⚘ ──────────

The boys apparated back to their apartment in silence.

No music. No lights. Just the faint, cold glow of Seoul’s skyline spilling through the penthouse glass like a wound that never closed.

They didn’t speak. They couldn’t. The memory of Gwi Ma’s offer still echoed like ash in their throats. The price was steep, yes—but the reward?

You. Untouched by his claws. Unwatched. Unmanipulated. Free.

If they could ensure your soul was yours—and theirs—forever… they would pay that price a thousand times over. So they agreed. Without hesitation. Without question. Now they sat in the dark, five demons and the shape of a girl in their hearts.

It was Abby who cracked first. “She looked cold,” he muttered.

His elbows rested on his knees, large hands clenched together so tightly the skin over his knuckles had gone pale. He wasn’t looking at the others. Just the floor. Somewhere past it. Somewhere where you had been.

“She looked cold in that vision. Like she hadn’t been held in years.” He swallowed thickly. “I’d keep her warm. She’d never feel cold again. Not even for a second.” His voice broke near the end.

“She should’ve been with us.” Romance was standing by the tall windows, framed in moonlight, arms crossed tight like he was holding his chest together. “She doesn’t even remember us,” he said softly. “We’re strangers again.”

He tried to sound nonchalant—but his voice cracked on ‘again’.

Baby didn’t move from the couch. His legs were crossed, jaw tight, nails digging crescent moons into his thigh. “Then we make her remember.” He looked up. Eyes black.

“Tie her down if we have to.”

No one told him to take it back. Because all of them had thought it.

From the corner, curled on a throw blanket like a resting animal, Mystery breathed out a long, aching sigh. He was clutching something close to his chest. Your scarf. One from a lifetime ago. The threadbare edges frayed, carrying a scent only he still recognized. He’d stolen it then, kept it hidden through each century. He never let it burn.

“She cried last night,” he whispered. The room went still. “I felt it.”

They turned.

“She misses us,” he said. His voice was too soft for the size of his pain. “Even if she doesn’t know why. Even if her brain doesn’t remember—her soul does. She sees us in dreams. She reaches out.”

No one doubted him. Mystery had always been the tether. The first to feel you across lives. The first to know. He curled tighter around the scarf like it could bring you back. “She reaches,” he whispered. “But we’re not there.”

Silence again.

Then Jinu stood. The weight of four centuries in every breath he took. He moved like a monarch of grief—shoulders squared, spine straight, eyes dark and steady.

“We need a plan,” he said. The words dropped like stone. “No chaos. No claiming. Not yet.” His gaze passed over each of them, firm.

“We woo her. Win her. Make her feel safe.”

Abby let out a bitter snarl. “I don’t want to pretend. I want to take her.”

Jinu’s jaw tensed.

“So do I,” he said. “But not if it means she runs. Not if she thinks we’re monsters.”

“Are we not?” Baby asked coldly. But it wasn’t really a challenge. It was despair.

“We’re hers,” Jinu replied. “That’s all that matters.”

The silence that followed wasn’t empty—it was thick with agreement. Each boy looked down. And one by one, they nodded. For now, they’d wait. But not forever.

You would remember.

You would come back.

And when you did— You’d never be allowed to leave again.

────────── ⚘ ──────────

You didn’t know why you were out this late.

You told yourself it was for a snack. The cold night air. The glow of convenience store signs. But the truth was burrowed beneath your ribs—tight, restless, and waiting. Something inside you itched, tugged. Like an invisible string pulling you down familiar streets.

You turned the corner and froze.

“Y/N?”

A voice. Soft, velvety, soaked in a sadness you didn’t understand. You looked up.

Jinu.

Standing beneath a flickering streetlight like a secret carved out of the night. Hoodie loose over his frame. Hair tousled, moonlight catching in the strands. His eyes locked with yours. 

Your breath caught.

He took a step forward, hands raised slightly—like approaching a wounded animal. “Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said gently. “I just… recognized you.”

Recognized? Your heart began to pound. Hard. “How do you know my name?” you asked.

Jinu smiled. But it wasn’t cocky or flirty. It was aching. “Because it’s the only name that ever mattered to me.”

And that’s when it happened. A flicker behind your eyes. No—it wasn’t a flicker.

It was a memory. A feeling. A lifetime cracking through your skull like thunder.

You saw him.

Not here. Not in this hoodie, not on this street. But in crimson silk beneath a palace moon. A hanbok embroidered in gold, eyes lined with kohl. He reached for you across a garden of foxglove. Your name spilled from his lips like scripture.

And then—

“Y/N.”

Another voice. Close. Too close. Romance stepped beside you, holding a book. One from your wishlist. The exact one you’d looked at two days ago online and never bought.

You took it in trembling hands. His voice dropped to a murmur. “Because I’ve been whispering it for hundreds of years.”

The world spun.

Another vision. His fingers on yours. A past version of you, crying. Him kissing your knuckles in the candlelight.

“Because I’ve never stopped saying it,” Abby said now, appearing at your side, holding— Your scarf. The one that went missing days ago. “Even when you weren’t alive to hear it.”

FLASH. There was blood on his hands. A blade meant for you. Abby standing between it and your body, screaming your name.

Your knees went weak. You staggered. The breath in your lungs turned jagged. 

A gentle touch. Behind you.

Mystery. Quiet. Wide-eyed. Fingertips brushing the sleeve of your coat like he was afraid you’d dissolve.

“I’ve known your name longer than you have,” he whispered.

You blinked—

And you were in the mountains. Your hands small. Younger. A fox curled against your legs. You were humming. He was warm. It wasn’t possible. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.

Across the street— Baby. Still. Watching. Eyes black as obsidian. And then—

The fire.

A palace burning. Bodies. You, screaming. Baby dragging corpses away with one hand while shielding you with the other.

You gasped. Your vision blurred. Your hands shook. You didn’t know if you were crying. But you felt like you were breaking.

Romance reached out, arm around your shoulders, steadying your frame.

“She’s remembering,” Mystery said, voice trembling. “She’s starting to remember.”

You didn’t hear them clearly. Your ears rang. Your body pulsed like a struck bell. Romance’s forehead pressed to yours, voice like velvet and ashes. “We missed you,” he breathed. “So much it drove us mad.”

Abby was pacing now, unable to stay still. His eyes burned. “You smell like home,” he choked. “I forgot what that felt like.”

Baby hadn’t moved, but he looked like he might lunge. His fists were clenched. His shoulders tight. His jaw locked.

His eyes were nothing but shadow.

He wanted you.

Jinu stepped forward, palm raised like a commandment. “Stop,” he said. Sharp. Firm. “She’s scared.”

He was right. You were. Tears blurred your eyes. The world spun again. “Who… who are you?” you asked, barely a whisper. “What do you want from me?”

Abby took one step. “We’re yours,” he said, voice low.

Jinu caught his arm. “Abby—”

“You were ours,” Romance added, lips brushing your temple. “You will be again.”

“No—no, this isn’t real—this can’t be—” You backed up. “You’re crazy.”

You looked into their eyes for the first time. And your blood ran cold. 

Not human.

They were glowing. Amber. Topaz. Garnet. Glasses of gold and rage and want. 

You didn’t think—you ran. Your footsteps slammed into the alleyway pavement. Breath heaving. Vision swimming. You ran like your soul was on fire.

And behind you— They didn’t follow.

They stood, the five of them, like statues in mourning. Longing. Rage. Grief. Hunger.

Mystery whimpered once.

Baby’s fists dripped blood from his own grip.

“We scared her,” Jinu muttered, teeth grit. Shame painting his face. “We were supposed to make her feel safe.” His voice was raw.

“She looked at us like we were monsters.” Abby slammed a fist into the wall. “She didn’t even recognize me.” 

Romance still watched the alley’s end where your shadow had vanished. His lips curled into something bittersweet. “Not yet,” he said. “But she will.”

The other boys turned. He smiled wider. Devastating. Determined. “Now?”

His voice dropped.

“We seduce her.”

────────── ⚘ ──────────

You don’t remember getting home. One moment you were running. The next, your apartment door slammed shut behind you. You locked it. Bolted it. Double-checked it.

Then you fell.

Not gracefully—like a collapse, like a marionette whose strings had been severed. You’re curled on the floor now, your fingers tangled in the hem of your clothes, your back pressed to the side of the bed. Shaking. Silent. Your chest is heaving, but the air doesn’t reach your lungs. You’re not crying because you’re sad.

You’re crying because you’re losing your mind. Every time you close your eyes… they’re there.

Jinu in royal silk, kneeling in the blood-soaked courtyard of a Joseon palace—his eyes hollow, your lifeless hand in his lap.

Romance cradling your head by a lake turned black from poison—screaming into your mouth like he could breathe life back into you.

Abby roaring over a field of corpses—his armor cracked, clutching you as smoke swallowed the sky.

Mystery baring his fangs at priests dragging you away—his form shifting between beast and boy, voice howling your name like a prayer.

And Baby—oh god.

Baby in a burning chamber, crawling toward your corpse through ash. His smile was carved wrong, twitching, shattered—his arms cradling your body like a doll as fire devoured the world around him.

You cover your ears. You curl tighter. Your bones ache. “These aren’t mine,” you whisper. “They aren’t mine—”

But they feel like they are.

The grief. The rage. The longing. The love. Too much love. It presses against your ribs like a dam waiting to crack. And deep—deep—within your chest… something stirs. Something ancient. Something hungry.

You drag yourself under the blankets. Trembling. Numb. You don’t sleep. Sleep claims you.

And you never hear the figures outside your window. Five of them. Silent on the balcony.

Jinu’s hand is on the glass, forehead pressed lightly to the cold. His eyes are shut, breath fogging the surface. He had to see you. Just once more. Even if it killed him.

Romance stands beside him, one hand in his coat pocket, the other pressed to his lips like he might say something—but doesn’t. He just watches. Unblinking.

Abby paces behind them, boots scuffing against concrete. Every noise inside your room makes his head whip toward the door. He wants to kick it down. Drag you into his arms. Keep you warm. Keep you close.

Mystery is curled beside the potted plants. His ears twitch. His claws dig into the concrete. He hears your breathing. He knows when your sleep shifts. He knows you’re dreaming.

And Baby— Baby stands furthest from the glass. He doesn't move.Just stares at your sleeping form through the sheer curtain. His eyes are too wide. His hands are in his pockets, but the blood dripping from them gives him away. He clenches his jaw. He had wanted to go after you. To hold you. To punish anyone who scared you. But Jinu made them promise.

No chaos. Not yet. They all told themselves they were here to make sure you got home safe. But deep down, none of them believed that. They were here because they needed to see you one last time. Because you were in their veins now.

Because the bond was waking.

And soon—you’d be theirs again.

───────── ༺🜃༻ ───────── Author's note: Let me know if you guys enjoyed this? I plan to expand more into the backstories as their relationship develops. I've got characterizations up just for a teaser that I might post tonight. :) With love,Willa x.

[youremysodapop]

The Pride Responds

Pairings: Saja Boys x fem!Reader

Tags: Reincarnation, Soulmates, Polyamory, Fluff

Rating: T+ (for general online horny behavior LOL)

Summary: Your interview with the Saja Boys practically went viral- how's the internet been responding to your presence both in the boys' lives and in general?

Word Count: 2.0k

(A semi-spin off of "Who Is the #SajaGirl?" - makes direct references to the fic so I recommend reading it first!)

(masterlist)

[Comments under the Interview YouTube Video]

@ gggitsez  Polaymory? In MY K-Pop group??? It’s more likely than you think.

@ justafordf-150  FIVE Boys?? I can’t even catch one 😩😩

@ bldvnbln I don’t know who I want to be more- her or one of the boys.

@ simplyshrimp1n You guys looking for a 7th?? I can make really good brownies I promise 🥺🥺

@ lezzzBh0nest Do you think she swings both ways?? Cause DAMN she’s too pretty for them

@ how_about_never Hey hey Y/N- I lost my number, can I have yours? ;)))) 

@ prettymuchthatguy  Catch me looping 21:40 - her laugh is adorable???

@ 33waystosaygoodbye Oh my gosh 19:43 ?? Her and Baby’s banter is so CUTE???

@ abbsssplez Abby when you’re ready for a girl who can commit to JUST YOU 😤😤😤 give me a call

@ pridebb-138   Okay but??? New album??? Hello??? 12:32 We’re just gonna GLOSS OVER THAT??? They’re CLEARLY talking about a new album????

@ anonynproud girl, Y/N, bestie - what mall do you shop at?? Where can I go that I can walk in looking for one thing and walk out with 5 hot boyfriends??? PLEASE

@ whatsthatguy Dude Y/N gets free BL every day- WHAT'S IT LIKE BEING GOD'S FAVORITE??

[Instagram]

(Reader posts the selfie that her and the boys took before the interview to her Instagram)

Caption: Figured I should share something to confirm that- yes you found my Instagram 😅😅 I don’t post on here THAT often, but you can have this cute selfie me and the boys took right before the interview <33 Our stylist did SUCH a great job with the outfits, I’m still obsessed  🤩🤩 

Edit: Holy crap 1M likes??? And 300k new followers??? You guys are wild. Thank you <33 Hope you enjoy the minimal content I occasionally add to your feed LOL 🫶🫶

↳ @ babysaja shared this post to his story “In case you wanted to admire our cute gf yourself ;)”

↳ @ romancesaja shared this post to his story “😍😍😍”

↳ @ mysterysaja shared this post to his story

↳ @ abbysaja shared this post to his story “We’re lookin’ fine af 💪💪”

↳ @ jinusaja shared this post to his story “Because I know some of you guys would appreciate this photo <3”

@ jinusbabymama - Jinu looks EDIBLE UGH

@ zebraprinted821 - share your stylist PLEASE i love this look?????

@ valval-ox14 - who else is here from Baby's story?? 🤚🤚🤚

@ sajasajasaja - 😍😍🤩 need more of these selfies YESTERDAY

@ sajapridemama - Mommy? Sorry- Mommy? Sorry- Mommy?

  》 @ proudfory/n - no HONESTLY she is such a lioness she needs her own lil Saja Figure

  》 @ lionessy/n - she's so pretty i CAN'T 

@ pretty-in-violet - now THAT'S a sandwich i want to be in the middle of 🥵🥵

@ thesajarabbithole - is it in Abby’s contract somewhere that he always has to have his chest showing? Or is it a personal choice? (Not complaining either way)

@ w0man1zer_x2 - if my hair could hold even HALF the shape that Romance’s seems to, i’d be elated 

@ queers4h1re - i need to have a polycule meeting with my squad, clearly we need to step up our wardrobe game because i dont think we’ve EVER looked this coordinated #goals 

@ immab4dbetch - WALK EM LIKE A DOG SIS!! 🗣🗣 WALK EM LIKE A DOG!!! 

@ huntrxd0ntquit - i swear I saw Y/N hanging out with Huntr/x the other day- IS SHE DATING THEM TOO?? IS ALL OF KPOP POLY??

  》 @ theansweris7 - lbsfr idol groups are sooo queer coded i mean come on?? U travel the world with a bunch of hot people and live with them?? Gay???? 

[Baby's Twitch Stream]

Baby grinned to himself as chat quickly began to fill up. He'd only been streaming for a little over a week now, but he was really enjoying it. He was glad Y/N had shown him Twitch, because it really was a fun way to game and connect with fans at the same time.

“Alright yes, yes, we're all excited to be here,” he said as chat kept flying by. “Yes, Mystery is here too.”

Mystery, as per usual, was tucked into their bean bag chair next to Baby's desk. They had a laptop open with the stream pulled up and a Steam deck with Valorant open in their lap. They held up a hand so the camera could see and waved to everyone.

“You need a cat cam but it's Mystery instead,” Baby read out of chat before laughing. “Maybe someday, but Min doesn't usually prefer to be on camera.” 

“Would you ever consider playing Fortnite?” He read again. “Eh, maybe if the Saja Boys were added into the game.” He points at the camera. “I see Huntr/x in there Fortnite, so where's our cameo huh??”

“But I do play other games sometimes,” he shrugged, “Valorant is just one of my favorites. Min plays more games than I do, actually. Recently he and Y/N started a Stardew Farm together.” He grinned. “We got Y/N one of the new Switch 2s. Doll thought it was too much but,” he waves a hand dismissively, “what's the point of having money if you can't buy things for your partners?”

He glanced at chat again as he waited for the next match to start up. “Do we all call her doll? No, I call her doll,” he said, pointing to himself. “Min calls her starlight. Jinu calls her angel,” he rolled his eyes dramatically. “Rome usually calls her darling and Abby calls her sweetheart.”

“What does she usually call us?” He thought for a moment. “She's said things like babe a few times, but usually she just calls us by some variation of our names.” He smirked as a thought came to mind. “Loudly if I'm doing it right.”

Baby continued to smirk, proud of himself, as chat exploded at the comment. 

Mystery shook their head. “She's gonna get you for that,” he said, just loud enough for chat to hear.

Baby waved a hand. “No she won't. She's probably not even watching-” his speech cuts off as light flooded the space behind him. His eyes widen as he turned to face the light, laughing nervously. “Wait, wait, doll, listen-”

A pillow smacks Baby in the head as he keeps laughing, bringing an arm up to defend himself. Y/N stepped into frame for the camera, just off to the side and partially turned away to face Baby.

She reached out and grabbed his headset by one of the cat ears, pulling him closer to her. “On stream Yujin??” She hissed at him.

Baby curled in on himself, bringing one leg up to further shield his body. He kept laughing, while also trying to plead with her. “Doll, I’m sorry, I can't help it that you're so hot- OW! Hey!”

Y/N grabbed the pillow and thumped him upside the head again. “A menace Baby. And here I was going to bring you some of the cookies Rome and I made-”

“No, no, Y/N,” Baby whined.

“Hey don't punish me for him being dumb,” Mystery added softly.

Y/N looked off screen fondly at the lavender haired boy. “Don't worry Min, I'll still bring one for you.” She whipped her head back to glare at Baby, pointing at him. “Thin ice, Yujin.” She said before walking away, closing the door behind her.

Baby turned to watch her walk away, his smirk slowly creeping back onto his face. He shook his head as he turned back towards his mic. “God she's hot when she gets riled up.”

Baby yelped, jumping in his chair suddenly and glaring down at Mystery, who had smacked him on the leg.

“I'm not following you this time if you get kicked out of bed tonight,” Mystery said.

Baby stared down at them, lips parted in shock. “But Min,” he whined.

“No.”

[TikTok]

A video from TikTok user @ imsajaandimproud. It’s a slide show with cute edits of Y/N with the song Spotlight playing in the background. The pictures are blank minus the last one that says, “Has anyone else been being like bombed by an account called @ notsobabysaja?”

The caption of the video says, “i know you’re watching this right now notsobabysaja.”

(Comments on the TikTok)

@ trackr3cord no fr they're so obsessed with all the Y/N edits, i swear i see their username in every comment section on my fyp

@ sajaboylov3r i swear they liked my most recent edit within seconds of me posting it. Obsessed much??

@ sajaboyscollective Honestly they should change their username to something to do with y/n cause clearly their bias shifted 🤣🤣 not that i blame them

  》 @ babysbabygirl  No FR like let someone else have that username who deserves it 😤

  》 @ sajaboyscollective Ok no chill its not that deep

@ y/nspride Theyre trying to take my “Y/Ns biggest SIMP” award away from me and i wont stand for it 😤😤

  》 @ notsobabysaja  Sorry Y/N personally handed me that award so its already mine 

  》 @ y/nspride  HELLO??? 🫵🫵🫵🫵

(@ notsobabysaja's profile on TikTok)

Bio: #1 Y/N SIMP

Following: 125 Followers: 5.2k Likes: 80k

Scrolling through their videos, they're all stitches of Y/N edits with reaction memes next to them. The memes all consist of fangirling and fainting, or wolf whistling.

Their most recent video is from 1 hour ago. Unlike the other videos on their page, this one they made themselves. It's a slideshow of pictures of Y/N.

Picture 1: Y/N is seen curled up in the corner of a couch. Golden light pours over her figure as she stares fondly at the camera, putting up a small peace sign.

Picture 2: A side profile picture of Y/N. She is grinning at someone unpictured, off screen. There are buildings behind her as this appears to be taken somewhere downtown.

Picture 3: Y/N is seen tucked under the arm of another person, who's cropped just out of frame. She is leaning into their side and sticking her tongue out at the person taking the picture. She has on an oversized coat that clearly belongs to someone else.

Picture 4: Y/N and Mystery are cuddled up together under one blanket. Both of them have their Nintendo Switch's in their hands. Y/N has her head rested on Mystery's shoulder, and they have their head rested on top of hers. 

Picture 5: Y/N is sitting at a cafe table, checking her phone. On the table in front of her sits a drink and a pastry. The lighting is soft and the sky is lightly overcast, the sun clearly still rising. She looks content.

The caption of the video says, “prettiest member of the Saja Boys and she doesn't even know it 🙄🥴”

(Comments on the TikTok)

@ sajaboyscollective Wait wait wait these pictures literally arent online anywhere else???? HELLO IS THIS ONE OF THE SAJA BOYS??

@ y/nsfavoritepride SIR?? WHATS YOUR SOURCE I NEED 50 MORE OF THESE PHOTOS NOW?!!

@ follow4pride Guys guys… what if this is Baby's alt??

  》 @ notsobabysaja (Creator) It literally says *not* so baby saja so obviously not 🙄

  》 @ follow4pride HELLO??? 

@ g1rlpowerplease I'm gonna combust she's SO PRETTYY UGH

@ noticemey/n Guess who has a new lockscreen picture now?? 🤗🤗

@ dreamsrlost Mommy?? Sorry- Mommy? Sorry- Mommy?

  》 @ notsobabysaja (Creator) Unoriginal + L + not your mommy 

  》 @ dreamsrlost Not *yet* 😏😏

  》 @ notsobabysaja (Creator) Well GET IN LINE THEN YOU GOT A LOT OF MEAT TO GET THROUGH TO GET TO HER

  》 @ thankyouy/n This crash out feels a little too personal 🤔🧐🧐

@ friends2lov3rs Come on OP share your source, dont be shy

  》 @ notsobabysaja (Creator) ~no~ 🤗🤗🖕

  》 @ friends2lov3rs Rude???? 

@ abbsgirlfr Achtualley 🤓☝️ Abby is the prettiest Saja Boy

  》 @ notsobabysaja (Creator) Wrong. Source: me

@ bitemejinu Im no better than a man 😔😔 i see a pretty woman and i must bark 

3 hours after the video was posted, it has skyrocketed to 1.3 million likes. 

(@ notsobabysaja's profile on TikTok)

Bio: #1 Y/N SIMP + L + ratio + crash out

Following: 125 Followers: 182.5k Likes: 1.6m

TAGLIST:

@wolfiafuntime @lobsterwithaknife @sammy-a-87 @edgycatx @deputy-videogamer @originaltyphoonkryptonite @gamer-kat @craftygamerscrafts @chin-chii @mrsbabysaja @chaoticfivesworld @thestardeli @kpopgirliez @winter-solstice24 @sxlsvv @blackbirdystar @elemental-of-magic @yourtownidiot @simpdevil66 @myjointpainismoderatetosevere @unadulteratedwizardrunaway @golbincat @call-me-nyxx @what-just-happened-to-me @vipxl @colorfulotaku @nyxnightshade7656 @allezoboli @lizzy121599 @julia-loves-cupcakes @marydragneell @ashleygryffindor @the-sweet-psycho @lafy-taffy @viper-0800 @lavenderficwriter @ifera-ilsa @holaaaf @motherspider @bunniotomia @3xclusivemariii @foxinaforestofstars @mizuchan24-blog @princessmika224 @justwantsleepandcoffee @teffyx

[join-the-pride]

𝕊𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕥𝕦𝕒𝕣𝕪 |ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 ℕ𝕚𝕟𝕖

Saja Boys x Demon!Reader

Summery: Kept hidden for nearly one thousand years, the daughter of Gwi-Ma, the demon king, is being tracked down by an unlikely bunch, hired by the king himself. To keep herself from her father's grasps, she makes an offer that they can't refuse.

All she asks in return, is for her identity never be revealed to the king.

Previous | Next(soon)

Silent. The room was so quiet, the air thick with unspoken tension. The sound of breathing seemed too loud. No one spoke. What could even be said after what they were told? Y/n's eyes stared out into nothingness, unfocused, as her mind buzzed with panic.

Demons would not rest until they capture her. Gwi-Ma will always claw at the back of her mind. The smallest slip up, will send her right back to that awful, god forsaken place.

Why? Why now did this shake her so deeply? For a thousand years, this was always a possibility. But now...that possibility was becoming more and more real by the day.

"We wont let him take you."

Mystery's voice nearly made Y/n flinch. "You've fought so hard all this time, to keep him away. And still, you must continue fighting. But...you won't be fighting alone this time."

Y/n looked to him, but she was unable to respond. She feared that if she started speaking, her emotions would get the better of her, and all that would come out would be desperate and pitiful sobs.

"The old demon was right." Abby added. "You've worked your ass off trying to save our souls. Least we can do is return the favor, and protect yours."

Y/n finally spoke, she tried to keep her voice steady, but was unable to hide the tremor that laced every word. "He'll kill all of you...if you betray him." She says. "Then...then this all really will be for nothing. Don't waste your souls for a pointless endeavor."

"Who says it's pointless?" Asked Romance. He approached Y/n, taking her shaking hands into his. "You might not think so, but what you've done for us has yield some pretty positive results. If we felt like this was a waste of time, we would have already had you back in the Underworld a while ago." He continues.

"I've never known anyone to look at me the way you do. Not with hatred, or disgust, or fear. But with sympathy. Not even pity. You actually tried to understand why I became this way...And even after learning, you...you still looked at like I was worth looking at. And not some selfish monster. You even gave me a name. A real human name. For that, I'll be forever grateful."

Baby spoke next. "Pretty boy's right. What you heard from me, and still wanting to try and help...at first, I thought you were stupid. Someone like me isn't worth the trouble. But you're the only one who's ever made me feel human, whether you know you're doing it or not. I...I don't want to loose that. Someone like you, doesn't deserve to share the same fate were were given."

"Your soul is one of a kind. It'd be a shame for Gwi-Ma to ruin it, like he's ruined everything else." Said Jinu. "You didn't give up on us. We're not gonna give up on you."

"Pretty soon this whole mess will be behind us. So stop the frowning already." Abby says, his hand ruffling Y/'s head. "You have a pretty smile, so lets see it!"

Y/n almost couldn't believe it. In the little time she's spent trying to help these five demons, they've already made great progress. And now, they even wanted to help her in return. She hasn't even done that much, and yet...

"You all..." A small smile graced Y/n's face. "Your souls are warm."

The five boys glanced at each other, confused. Y/n continued, better explaining what she meant. "Before, when I first saw you, your souls were...cloudy. I could sense the malice and the evil within them, but still, I was unsure. I couldn't say that was all there was to you. And now..."

"Your souls look a little more clear. The warmth of them...it's like a flickering candle light. It doesn't seem like much, but...it's the warmest your souls have ever been. If I had any part in making it so then..." Y/n's smile grew, more genuine and true. "Then I'm happy. And I'm proud of your progress so far."

There it was again. They all felt it at once now. The way she made them feel. The warmth her words alone brought to their cold hearts. She could do so much with so little, it was amazing. And yet, terrifying.

If her soul was steered in the wrong direction, could that feeling be warped? Would it feel the same as when Gwi-Ma's voice clawed it's way into their minds?

That question alone was more than enough reason to try and save her. If there was any hope left for them, for anyone who was tricked by Gwi-Ma...then she must be protected at all cost.

"Do you think we could ever be human again?" Baby asked, his voice quiet and uncertain.

Y/n shook her head. "No. There is no undoing what's been done." She looks to him. "All you can do now, is find a way to snuff out the voices that tell you that you're nothing more than what you are. Demon or not...you have the potential to be something greater. To become better."

Her attention was on all of them now. "But if it helps, if it will make you feel more human...How about you guys finally have some real names?"

It's been years the last time he was here. To this dark and empty...hell. That's what it was. Hell. A place for only the wickedest and twisted souls to linger, to fester, to rot...

Life here, if one could even call it life, was nothing but an everlasting purgatory. Demons would starve, as no human souls could reach them, until they faded away like the dust in the wind.

Their king, was close to becoming nothing more than that dust. Dying slow, starving, and growing weaker by the day.

Yeong-Cheol sought to make sure it happens. That Gwi-Ma's fire would someday finally go out, never to light again.

There was only one reason Yeong-Cheol was here now. It was not because he was summoned. It was not even to hatch a plan to further Y/n's progress. He was simply here for one thing, and one thing only.

To free the soul, of the woman he loved...

Years ago, she died. And her soul, instead of entering eternal peace, was condemned to this horrible place. She had broken a code she she swore to live by, all in the name of love. And that alone was enough to send her here.

For so long, Yeong-Cheol had fought tirelessly to free her. To ensure she gets the afterlife she deserved. And every time, he was met with failure.

But with Gwi-Ma weakening, his chances of freeing her were steadily growing more promising.

Yeong-Cheol approached a shrine, hidden far from the swells of demons. He stopped just as he made it to the entrance, knowing he could go no further without triggering the seal that kept him out.

But he could see her. The soul of his beloved. Pure, glowing, warm. Untouched by demons...

Yeong-Cheol made it so, the moment she died. He ensured that no demon would be able to take her soul. But of course, that meant him as well.

He had no intentions on keeping it, she needed to finally be at rest. Even if it hurt him to let her go...

"Soon, my love. Soon you will be free of this place." Yeong-Cheol murmured quietly. "Y/n is the key to it all. To Gwi-Ma's defeat, and for your freedom. I promise you...you will never know suffering again..."

The silence after was broken by the faintest of whispers, too quiet for human ears. Yeong-Cheol smiled weakly. "Yes...she's fine. Sadly she's in a bit of a messy situation. But soon her pain will end as well." He raised his hand, the barrier fizzled to life, and like a stone wall, kept him from pushing further.

"If only you were here instead of me..." Yeong-Cheol whispers. "You would have known what to do. Rumi needed you far more than she needed me..."

Whispers, so quiet, so faint...

"I know...she needed us both...I promise I'll protect her, my love."

"How about...Beomseok?" Y/n asks Abby. She had been thinking of names for the boys for the last ten minutes. They weren't particular, but Y/n was, even if it was names for them. She wanted to make them count, given their real names were forgotten to them.

Abby thought it over. "Beomseok...Beomseok." He tried his new name out. Then he smiled. "I like it!" He beams. Y/n smiles as well. "So let's go over it again." She starts before looking to each memeber.

"Jae." Y/n looks to Baby, who gave a nod of approval.

"Jeong." She looks to Mystery, who grinned at hearing his new name.

"Seo-Jun." Romance tips his head, sending a wink her way.

"And Beomsok." She finishes with Abby.

"And of course, Jinu. But everyone knows him." Y/n said with a smalle laugh. Jinu nods. "It's the only thing I don't mind remembering."

Y/n recalled that night in her head a few days after, smiling fondly at the memory. One step closer to making the boys feel more human. Her smile faded slightly as she then remembers the situation she's currently in.

Being stalked isn't something Y/n would imagine ever happening to her, much less, being stalked by a demon. But, here she was...

And yet, she wasn't tense. Because thankfully, the demon stalking her was someone she knew.

Y/n looked over her shoulder, she couldn't see him right away, she felt him first. But he was there...Just out of sight...In the shadows...

Mystery, or now, Jeong.

He wasn't the only one Y/n could accuse of this creepy behavior. The other boys had been doing something similar. Anytime Y/n went out, one or all of them would follow.

She wasn't upset with them, she knew they were only doing it to keep her safe. But still, she couldn't help but feel just a slight bit uneased by it.

Y/n stops in her tracks and sighs, the turns in the direction of where Yeong was. After a moment of staring his way, he finally walked over. To keep himself from drawing attention, he wore a disguise. A face mask and a large hoodie with the hood pulled over his head.

"You know if you're gonna follow me, you might as well keep me company." Y/n tells him. Yeong simply nods and follows close at her side as she walks again. Y/n glances up at him as they both walk.

"So...you do have a pair of eyes under all that hair, right?" She asks, curiously. Yeong nods.

"Use your words, I know you can speak."

"I do." Yeong murmurs. "But...they are unnatural. Hard to look at..." He tells her.

"Most demon eyes are." Y/n raises an eyebrow, not fully understanding his point. Yeong shakes his head. "Too much. Too...distracting, even with my human illusion."

"Distracting how?" Asked Y/n. Yeong pauses a moment before he answers. "Many find them...alluring. But, it's not good. It's the bad kind. Romance is jealous of them."

"Is that just another way of saying you have pretty eyes?" Y/n teasingly nudges his arm. Behind his facemask, the smallest of smiles grew on his face. "Somewhat. But, my demon form has warped them. It's...hypnotizing almost. My demon form has warped many things about myself."

Y/n hesitates, but carefully brings it up as she asks. "Like how?"

"I was never human to begin with." Yeong tells her.

Y/n looked to him again, wide eyed. "You weren't?"

"I was born a demon." Yeong explains. "But not the type I am now. I was born as an demonic animal. A beastly dog, who feasted on human souls. But...not always." He continued. "I was good once, well, I was after I met him. A little boy who found me injured and alone near the woods of his village. He took care of me whenever he'd sneak away, tending to my wounds and feeding me."

"I can't remember his name, I barely remember what he looks like. But I do remember...we we're friends. Good friends. But..." Yeong's voice dipped into one of sadness. "One night, the little boy's parents saw me with him, and thought I was trying to take harm him. They dragged him away from me, even when he pleaded form them to let him go..."

"I followed, worried for the little boy. When I arrived at the village, I was met with arrows and spears. I could have turned back...I should have. The boy...he tried to save me. But he was stuck by an arrow, trying to protect me, and he...died."

Y/n's heart ached at the sound of his voice, and how it weakened and cracked as he tried to explain further.

"I ran away after the pain of the arrows became too much...and that's when I started to hear his voice..."

Gwi-Ma. Of course. When he was at his lowest, of course that's when Gwi-Ma would make himself known...

"He kept telling me that I failed to protect him...that I just let him die. But that I could take revenge on the ones who took my friend away...I grew legs, arms, a body. I was strong, I was fast, and...I killed every single one of them..."

Yeong had stopped walking, his gaze casted downward shamefully at his trembling hands, as if he could still feel their blood on his palms. "I took the boy's body, and buried him at the same spot he found me. And I was never the same again..."

Y/n took his hand with hers, Yeong felt a feeling of comfort wash over him. Before they knew it, their marks began to show, so they quickly separate.

Again, it happened again. First with Baby, or Jae, now with Yeong...

"You did what you thought was right in the moment. They killed your friend, even if it was an accident, and you thought you were doing him right by taking revenge." Y/n tells Yeong. "Gwi-Ma made you think it was right. Instead of letting you grieve his death, he poisoned your mind and made you think you allowed him to die. But that's not true. It was an accident, a terrible accident that was out of your control."

Yeong looked as if he wanted to say something, but kept quiet. Y/n took his hand again, thankfully their marks didn't show, and she lead him as they walked again. "How about I treat you to some coffee at this cafe I go to? They make the best lates."

Mystery...Yeong, nods a small smile forming behind his facemask. "I'd like that. Thank you, Y/n..."

Tags-

@nightlark100 @s1nzari @placeofsupercooltopics

@itzkawaiix @winter-solstice24

@simpdevil66 @allezoboli

@lunaryoongie @avadakadabra93

@rainbowcake1212  @doggyteam2028

@yourtownidiot @eyes-ofhell

@yaminions @teffyx

@ashleygryffindor @vipxl

@sebbystans1fan16 @scre4mera

@satansdaughter123 @hvrricanq

@kpopgirliez @yourmom132

@bunniotomia @procookie2007

@sxlsvv @julia-loves-cupcakes

I'll make sure to remind you guys of the new names every chapter to avoid confusion

[ibetyouthinkaboutmefics]

The way I’m locked in right now✨

[the-spicy-sugar]

Separation Anxiety

Baby Blues Series - Part 25

Ex!Verstappen x Reader x Norris

Masterlist - Baby Blues Masterlist & Playlist

Summary: Lando is hesitant to go back to work, knowing he’ll miss both you and Sonny more than he has before.

Note: Just some soft sweet fluff before the smau of the century drops… 👀 thank you for your patience :)

wc 1.6k

suggested listen: She Will Be Loved by Maroon 5

The morning light in Monaco always feels too gentle to be real - soft, golden, painting shapes of watercolour across the sheets like the day is trying not to wake you. There’s a relaxed subtlety about it that the rest of Monaco seems to harbour like an old secret or tradition. 

You blink yourself awake slowly, heavy with that particular kind of tiredness that only comes with a newborn. Sonny’s still asleep in the bassinet by the window, bundled and peaceful, one tiny fist half-cupped within his scratch mitt, near his cheek. The soft sound of his breathing steadies your heart before you even move, relaxing back into the pillows, having a moment of still before getting up to pump and prepare breakfast or pack Lando’s case for Zandvoort. 

His warmth is a solid weight beside you. He’s lying on his stomach, cheek pressed downward, head turned toward you on the pillow, face softened by sleep. Hair a wild mess, sticking up in every direction wnd his lips are parted. The morning sun catches the curve of his shoulder, the freckles scattered over his skin, the slow rise and fall of his back. 

He’s wearing nothing but boxers and the sight of him - so completely at ease, so utterly Lando, makes something ache deep in your chest. You don’t mean to stare but it’s hard not to when every inch of him feels like the warmth of summer after a long, cold winter.

At first, both of you had assumed Lando would be the one to struggle with the six week hiatus on sex, but fuck. He seemed to be dealing with it better than you. You shift closer, hand slipping out from under the sheets until your fingertips brush against his arm. His skin is warm and soft and he makes a small noise, somewhere between a sigh and a hum, but doesn’t stir fully.

Your lips find his shoulder first, a slow, quiet kiss against the freckled skin. Then another, closer to his neck. The faint smell of salt and the girly exfoliating scrub of yours from the shower, that he insists he’s never used, mixed with the slight morning breath that leaves his parted lips. 

He shifts again, his brows furrowing slightly, the edge of a smile tugging at his lips. “What’re you doin, trouble?” He mumbles, voice rough, lazy, still half-asleep.

“M’just waking you up gently so your bloody alarm doesn’t give me a headache.” You whisper against his skin, letting your tongue move down the side of his thick neck, planting kisses in its wake. 

He hums, eyes still closed, grin deepening as he feels himself stirring in his boxers. “You’re doing a good job of ‘waking me up’, that’s for sure.”

Your nose nudges his cheek as you move back up, pressing another soft kiss as he turns onto his back, then one to the corner of his mouth. He catches your wrist under the covers, fingers wrapping loosely around it, thumb tracing slow circles on your skin before bringing your palm to brush over his slight erection for a casual moment like he’s taken to doing. The way he looks at you when he finally opens his eyes makes your breath hitch - bleary but eager, full of that sleepy affection that always makes you feel weightless.

“Mmm, good morning.” He murmurs, voice soft enough that it barely disturbs the quiet. 

Then his hand slips to your waist beneath the blanket, palm wide and warm. “You look pretty today.” He says simply, eyes soft on you, voice thick with honesty as he tugs you closer and folds you into his big arms, lips pressing down into your hair. 

You roll your eyes but your heart trips over itself. “You always say that.”

“Cause it’s always true.” For a moment, the two of you just stay like that, breathing the same quiet morning air, listening to the city outside beginning to wake up, morning traffic and the quiet hum of life beginning to flow through the old streets that are lined with gold. 

“I’m gunna miss this when I go back to work. Shit getting loud again, you know? It’s been quiet here for the past couple weeks and I was just getting used to it.” There’s a quiet hum of consideration as he decides how to continue before he says something that stops you entirely. 

“I’ve been thinking about Allie.“

Your breath catches a little at the mention of her name. It’s soft the way he says it - careful, like the word itself might shatter if he isn’t gentle enough.

You shift slightly in his arms, trying to read his face, the faint crease between his brows, the uncertainty sitting just behind his sleepy eyes. “About Allie?” The words are hesitant and slow as you ask quietly. “Why?”

He exhales slowly, eyes tracing the ceiling for a moment before dropping back to you. “I don’t know, really, not that I didn’t ever think about her before - I always have, course I have.” He admits. “Guess she’s just been on my mind more now that he’s here and we’re settling. I’ve been here, holding Sonny, watching you with him, and I just keep thinking…” He trails off, searching for the right words. “It’s not fair that she didn’t get this. That you didn’t get this before.”

“Max was considering retirement and I wish I felt like I was in a position where I could too, driving is my dream, yeah, but God, it feels so stupid now that I’ve felt like this.” His chest tightens under your hand, and you feel it,  fingers curling around your hip, firm but loving.

“Don’t be silly, Lando. That’s your dream. It always has been.”

Lando shakes his head, a small, self-conscious smile tugging at his lips, though his eyes stay on you. “Yeah, I know. But lately… I dunno, it just feels different. Like there’s this whole world outside of racing that I didn’t really understand before. You and Sonny - you’ve made everything else feel quieter, I guess. No more Ibiza, no more hangovers, no more stupid decisions. I like it.”

You watch him for a moment, fingers tracing idle patterns against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your palm. “Don’t worry baby, you definitely still make stupid decisions. But you don’t have to feel guilty for loving what you do. You’re allowed to have both. We’ll still be here when you come home. Me and Sonny, and if we ever decide to have any more in the future… we’ll always be waiting.”

He hums lowly, eyes flicking toward the bassinet by the window. “Still feels wrong sometimes, though. Leaving you both here. I don’t feel ready.”

You know what he means. The fear that something might go wrong again, that you might wake up one morning to find the quiet a little too still. You swallow the lump in your throat, leaning forward until your nose brushes his. “Nothing’s going to happen this time, Lan. You’re not going to lose us. Definitely not like that.”

His hand finds the back of your head, fingers slipping through your hair to squeeze slightly at the nape of your neck, tilting so you look up at him, keeping you close. “You say that like you can promise it.”

“All I can do is try and hopefully you can trust me when I do.”

There’s something in the way he looks at you then - like he’s memorising every inch of your face. “You know I do, right?” He murmurs, lips pressing kisses down the side of your jaw to distract himself from how overwhelmingly deep this conversation about his life feels all of a sudden. “You, him, even the tiny parts of the life I never got to have before… I trust all of it. I trust you.”

“Come with me.” He finally says, fingers loosening from your hair as he drags his thumb down your jaw. “Come. Not to the race, if you’re not ready for that, if Sonny isn’t, just travel with me? I get so fucking anxious at the thought of not being with you both.”

He takes his bottom lip between his teeth and chews for a moment while he waits for the judgement or the frustration - though it never comes. You only blink up at him before nodding slowly. “Actually, I was thinking about that too. I don’t want to go to the race but I wanted to go and see Victoria and the kids. It’s been a bit and she’s been asking to see us again.”

He goes tense but doesn’t say anything about you visiting your ex’s family, only giving a quiet sigh and a nod. “Yeah, that’ll be nice for Sonny’s cousins, too. They’ll surely be at the race but you’d be okay for a couple of hours, wouldn’t you?”

“Mm, yeah, I’ll be fine. It’ll be good for me too, I reckon. Nice to have someone around who knows… everything.”

He immediately snorts and shifts you over, moving to lay between your legs as one hand travels down the outside of your thigh, tugging gently at the pyjama shorts. “So all of the Verstappen’s are know-it-all’s? Good to know.”

Baby Blues Taglist 💙

@freyathehuntress @ibetyouthinkaboutmefics @onlydeadcells @strawb3heart @raynetargaryan2 @d3kstar @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @mimisweetz @piston-cup @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @gandalfthegoatsblog @a-library-ofmy-own @lando-505 @okdokeygryssel63 @esw1012 @loveitwhenhelies @chaoswithus @dontsupressthejess @ravyn94 @bowielovesyou @mayax2o07 @remussbitch @wolfbc97 @camillyb @chlmtfilms @enjoythebutterflies11 @emluvsbunnies @ilovechickenwings @hi26loveie @fromsaltandsea @sesamepancakes @ohwhoisyou-rubyjane @v3nd3ttal3on @mel164 @bands-messed-me-up @yourbane @shawnscurlz @destinyg237 @lovelylunas-world @hey-there9-its-me @mel164 @fulla02 @fastandcurious16 @howling-wolf97 @maggiedog98 @czennieszn @raccoonintheforest @sukunassfinger @the-fandom-ness 

[ibetyouthinkaboutmefics]

I’m so stressed for the next SMAU, but this just made it 10x worse 😭

The sweet domestic morning moments is absolutely everything. Our girl is so dow bad, lol. I love how they thought it would be him. No but they’re so cute with the soft morning kisses and talking comfortably. Like he’s thinking about Allie 🥺 Like what do you mean this man is always thinking about Allie and our girl. How she was robbed of having these moments with Allie but that Allie was robbed of having her as a mom 🥺 That is genuinely so sweet in so many ways, but he doesn’t just forget about Allie and how much she obviously means to our girl, but also because he also cares about Allie.

The fact that this man just wants them to be there with him. He’s not trying to push her to do anything, he just wants them to be there, not to mention how worried he is after the last time he left 🥺

Ok, but for the big part, HE’S CONSIDERING RETIREMENT!!!???! Like, he wants more than just his dream, because he realizes there’s more to his dream than he ever thought about — that partying is basically stupid as hell and he loves the domestic life.

I don’t know why but some of the Lando vibe is reminding me of when Max went back to racing after Allie. I’m not sure why, but there’s something that feels so opposite. I could be wrong, but I don’t know, it’s weirdly giving, Lando wouldn’t have done what Max did. I don’t know if that make any sense, but it’s making me feel like Lando loves her more than Max ever did (I mean he also cheated so…)

I know I already said I was stressed for the SMAU, but shit, her seeing the his family with Sonny 👀 shits not gonna be good. I’m assuming Kelly will also be there. Oh it’s gonna be such a shit storm. Lando also saying she’s a Verstappen 😭 I know she is but it’s still kinda funny, I don’t know why.

I absolutely adore our girl and Lando, it’s absolutely insane. They are 100% the endgame of all endgames. They’re talking about more kids, like the cuteness is too much 🥺🥺

[illicitlimerence-writes]

sentimental | c. leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x actress!reader word count: 2.6k words request: yes/no, by a nonnie :) "Hello there. Would you consider to write something about Charles Leclerc being in a relationship with Y/N!actress? It just popped in my head an scenario where they try to keep it private but anyways walk in the paddock holding hands at the begging of the season 🥺" i went completely overboard with this but i'm pretty happy with how it turned out. warnings: allusions to sex, swear words, i think that's it. this has several flashbacks so pls tell me if u find this confusing so i can correct it! it starts in 2019 and ends in december 2022. also, this was inspired by "billie bossa nova" by billie eilish, so i'd recommend listening to it as you read. a/n: i took a nap and i still feel so incredibly sad for lando. if this might take a while for me, i can't even imagine how he must be feeling :( also! thanks so much for all your messages and requests, and i'm sorry in advance if i don't post your fic as soon as you hoped. i write based on how i am feeling and sometimes writer's block hits me.

my masterlist

your relationship with charles was complicated. there weren't any issues between you, only your tight schedules and very public and busy lives stood in between your relationship. but you made it work in any way you could.

he'd fly to you as soon as his races were over and on his off weeks. and you'd join him whenever you weren't filming.

you'd been a fan of the sport since before you even scored your first acting role as a teenager. the first thing you'd bought with your first paycheck was a ticket to your home grand prix. and since everyone knew your love for racing, the italian team in particular, nobody questioned your presence in the paddock whenever you attended a race.

one thing that the public didn't know of, was your relationship with the ferrari driver. you'd met the monegasque at the 2019 italian grand prix. the scarlet team invited you on a tour of the factory in maranello. and who better to walk you through the historic building than their newest addition to the team. fresh-faced charles leclerc.

you spoke about your favorite drivers, his idols, and heroes. he talked about his last race, which he was still buzzing with excitement from.

it was something so surreal, seeing the hundreds of trophies and other awards they'd won over the years. he'd laughed at your shocked face, patting your shoulders when tears welled up in your eyes, feeling overwhelmed. as you took in all the history in front of you, he confided in you about the pressure he felt as they headed off to monza, which you completely understood. you reminded him of those that came before him, and everything he'd already accomplished for the team.

"but look at everything you've done already! pole positions, podiums, wins. not many drivers can say they've done all that in their first season with a new team. and those who've done it have become legends. no matter what happens in monza, you will be a ferrari legend. i've got a good feeling, though. mark my words, charles leclerc wins in spa, wins in monza." you said, watching as his face changed from disturbance to pride.

"have you ever thought about being a motivation coach?" he asked, making you laugh.

you exchanged numbers that day, promising you'd stop by the garage over the weekend to wish him good luck. as it turned out, he won the race in monza, his second win in a row. after all the champagne and interviews and celebrations, he made his way back to the garage, where you sat waiting for him. the team was going out to celebrate and had invited you.

"i don't want to say i told you, but..." you said, raising one eyebrow. he chuckled, nodding his head. "i told you."

"you did. i'm going to the hospitality, come with me?" he asked, you nodded and walked next to him. he was holding his huge trophy in his hand.

"that was an incredible race, you deserved this win. how are you feeling?"

"it doesn't feel real. two wins in a row i-" he didn't finish his sentence, but you nodded your head, understanding the feeling.

as your attendance to the paddock became more of a usual thing you saw each other more and more often as time passed, which meant it was only a matter of time before you became close friends. you stayed up talking with him at ungodly hours of the early mornings, he flew to you once when you were feeling incredibly nervous about an audition for an academy award-worthy role and waited with you until you eventually got the call.

in return, luckily, you were able to be there when he scored his next two podiums, and he couldn't help but look for you in the crowd, locking eyes with you and pointing to his chest. therefore, claiming you as his good luck charm.

the feelings came in the blink of an eye. he became the only thing in your head, making you mess up lines, stay up way past your ideal bedtime. he couldn't seem to focus during his practice sessions, too lost in his thoughts. thinking about when you would follow the f1 circus next.

it had been almost two months without your cheerful presence in the paddock when you finally made your awaited return at the very last race of the season in abu dhabi.

you ran into each other at the hotel, and you couldn't help but run to his arms, holding him so impossibly close and saying how much you'd missed him. he grasped your waist and repeated your words back to you. that night you confessed your feelings for him, and you watched as his chest filled with happiness, telling you he felt the same as well. when he stepped onto the top spot on the podium that sunday, you felt a different kind of pride and excitement as you saw him lifting his trophy up. that was the night that you became an official secret.

when lockdown happened, you couldn't see each other for a few months, but miraculously, you'd managed to squeeze in a few days to travel to monaco and see him.

you waited for the elevator doors to open, it was nearing midnight and you hoped no one was there.

the hotel lobby was empty except for one person. not even the nice lady at the front desk was there. sitting on one of the perfectly chosen sofas, with his back towards you, there he was.

the ding of the elevator doors opening was enough to catch his attention. he turned, covering his head with the hood of the sweater he wore. he met you halfway, his arms immediately wrapping around you, yours on his back. you hid your face in his neck, inhaling his scent.

"tu m'as tellement manqué, mon amour," charles whispered, kissing your head. you lifted your face, a lazy smile on your lips.

"i missed you, too, champ." you kissed his chin. feeling your insides warming as his green orbs scanned your face. your recent change of hairstyle caught his attention.

"you've cut it," he said, running his fingers through your strands. you walked back to the elevator, nodding.

"it's for a role. apparently, miss poppy nightingale is really going through it," you said, pressing the button for the top floor. as soon as the doors were closed, he pushed you against the mirrored wall and grabbed your face, clashing your lips with his.

it had been too long since you'd felt his hands roaming your body, caressing spots only he knew, handling you the way only he could.

since then it became a game of midnight reunions at empty hotel lobbies, taking long flights just to see the other for a few hours. fake names at hotel check-ins, lame excuses to friends for skipping get-togethers and hidden jealousy whenever someone placed their eyes on either of you.

for the past two years in every single interview there was always the same question.

"are you and charles leclerc dating?"

you'd smile, laugh, shake your head and deny something other than a really nice friendship between you and the monegasque.

neither of you could prevent paparazzi from taking pictures of you whenever you hung out together, the question always lingered in the air, but you always managed to dodge it and change the subject to something else.

meanwhile, in the darkness of your room, your secret came to life. your relationship became something carnal, full of desire and love and longing.

it was nearing the beginning of pre-race testing for the upcoming 2021 season.

you sat on the comfortable cushions of the cockpit in charles' yacht with your legs up. the hardtop protecting you from the warm monaco sun. you scrolled aimlessly on your phone, double-tapping when you saw pictures or videos that made you smile. a clip of charles caught your attention. it was from one of his streams during winter break.

he was talking about some things he'd bought online, clothes, gaming stuff, and other random things that caught his attention. he forgot that in that order there was also a few articles of clothing you had bought, including a bright pink bralette that he tried his best to hide, but it was too late. he'd played along as if someone had messed up and added the item by mistake. the caption of the video said something along the lines of 'charles leclerc has a secret girlfriend.'

you smirked, that much was true.

you locked your phone, tossing it to one side as you heard charles' footsteps nearing.

"here you go, ma belle," he said handing you a refreshing glass of ice-cold lemonade, you smiled at the french pet name. after all this time, his mother tongue still affected you.

"thank you, beau," you said as he lifted your legs for an instant as he sat next to you, only to place them back down on his lap. his hand stayed on your thigh.

"i was on the phone with the team, i'm leaving for bahrain next week." he said, you nodded. thinking about the last few days you had with him. "i want you to come with me,"

"i'm always there," you said. which was true. no one in the scarlet team knew of your secret relationship with their driver, yet they still invited you to attend to as many events as you like.

"i mean, i want to walk to the paddock with you. i want to hold your hand and show everyone you're mine,"

you were not, at all, ashamed of your relationship with the green-eyed boy in front of you. in fact, he was one of the most important people in your life, and you only kept it a secret so the stupid tabloids could focus on your achievements as individuals, instead of '(y/n) (y/l/n)'s boyfriend or charles leclerc's girlfriend'.

you nodded, feeling your cheeks getting hot, not from the sun. but from how you felt inside.

"okay, let's do it." you barely finished speaking when his lips met yours in a fight for dominance. you let him have his way with you, knowing a reward was coming your way.

a few days later, as you waited for the private jet to take off, you scrolled through instagram, the same video from the other day popped up on your feed again.

you decided to comment under that video, sending the emoji of the two eyes. immediately, your phone was being flooded with tags and mentions.

@ user1: omg she knows @ user2: (y/n) tell us who it is! @ user 3: @ yourusername are you and charles dating?

you let the internet go up in flames, locking your phone and paying attention to the brunette in front of you.

"are you ready?" charles asked, gripping your hand. you sat in his ferrari, waiting to walk into the paddock. you'd done that walk countless times, but this time would be different.

"as i'll ever be. i love you," you brought his hand to your lips, kissing his knuckles.

"je t'aime aussi," he said. you nodded, and he let go of your hand, stepping out of the car and walking to the passenger side where you sat. nerves and excitement swimming in your body. he opened your door and helped you out. his hand found yours instantly, like two magnets pulled together by an invisible force.

it was no surprise that you were walking the paddock, you were basically another member of the team. but heads turned as you walked with the beautiful monegasque beside you. you kept your head up, smiling when people said 'hi' to you two.

you were used to the cameras flashing and your name being called by hundreds of people at a time, and so was charles.

but this time was different, this time it was both your names being called, together. one after the other. his arm circled your back, the design of your dress was backless, his fingers curling around your waist as his thumb pressed into the skin of your back.

it was a beautiful evening in february, your high heels were pressing against the red carpet below you. you'd refused to do any interviews before the ceremony, therefore, you were of the last few people to walk the carpet of the 2022 academy awards. you were nominated for best leading actress, your best nomination to date. you made your way inside the theater, where the greatest of the film industry sat, waiting for the biggest night in film to start.

charles sat next to you, his hand never left yours as the night ticked by and awards were presented. nearing the end, anthony hopkins, the winner for last year's best actor award, walked onstage and your heart begun beating faster. this was it.

they called the names for all your fellow nominees, you clapped for each one of them, and charles applauded even louder when finally, your name and a small clip of your movie were named.

your hand flew to charles' again, as the envelope was opened and the actor onstage read the winner. he smiled, looking straight ahead.

"the oscar goes to... (y/n) (y/l/n),"

time stopped. people around you rose to their feet as you remained seated, you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath and opening them in the span of two seconds. charles grabbed both your hands and pulled you to your feet, he pressed you close to his body.

"you did it, ma belle. you did it!" he whispered before letting you go. you were beaming with excitement, you grabbed his face and kissed him quickly as someone ushered you onstage. charles held his arm to you as you walked the few steps to where the golden statue waited for you.

you hugged the legendary actor as he handed you your very first academy award. you looked ahead of you at the sea of people, the blinding lights preventing you from looking up, so you settled for looking at charles instead.

"wow, i- i don't know what to say. i-" you began, swallowing the knot forming in your throat. as you paused the applause of the crowd roared back to life. "i guess i should start by thanking my team. the people on set who made all of this possible. thank you to the academy for this incredible night and unforgettable moment." you paused, looking at the award in your grasp. "thank you to charles, my fiance, he- he was with me the day i got the call. i thought i'd completely blown it at the audition and he jumped on a plane and flew to new york just so he could be with me that day. thank you for never giving up on me, for never letting me give up on my dreams even when i so desperately felt the need to." you felt your eyes tearing up, as charles stood with his palms together over his lips, and with all the lights you could see he was on the verge of tears as well.

"this is a night that i'll never forget, and i've loved spending every second of it with you. thank you for everything you've done for me. thank you to every one at home, those who supported this film. thank you for tonight, a night i will never forget."

you thought back to that night in february as you stood with the rest of the ferrari team, watching as charles made his way on to the top spot on the podium. the podium which now gave him his first world championship title.

as the national anthems played, charles' eyes met yours, he winked and placed a hand on his heart, then pointed at you with his finger. you smiled, with your palms pressed together over your lips, the same position he was in just months ago as you achieved the biggest goal in your career. it seemed that history was repeating itself, but the roles were reversed as it was now your turn to stare in awe at the man who stole your heart completely, achieving the biggest goal in his career.

there was no doubt in your minds that you two were meant to be. your lives circled around each other, you took turns in the spotlight as your professional lives progressed, you'd accomplished so much together. you felt ready for whatever curveball life threw your way, because you wouldn't face it alone. he had you and you had him, and you didn't need anything else.

[the-spicy-sugar]

A Heavy Elephant Enters the Room

Baby Blues Series - Part 24

Ex!Verstappen x Reader x Norris

Masterlist - Baby Blues Masterlist & Playlist

Summary: A visit to the Norris household to meet the ‘grandparents’(?) is well overdue for baby Sonny.

Note: The way I wrote all of this literally today hehehe I’ve got so many parts planned honestly but also working on smau!

wc 3.5k

suggested listen: The Night We Met by Lord Huron

Cisca has been waiting at the door for both of you all morning, practically bouncing on the balls on her heels, which Adam teases she shouldn’t be doing at her age or she’ll break something. 

She’s made pies and puddings and sandwiches and tea, the table littered with a spread that would rival a feast for a king, then again, the company she’s expecting isn’t short of royalty, considering the reputation Lando has given them. 

The door swings open as you stand on the other side, holding the suitcase you’d brought between you for a week, Lando holding Sonny in his car seat, beaming smile on his face as he leans in to kiss each of his mum’s cheeks when she greets him. 

Cisca’s eyes flick to you almost immediately after kissing Lando’s cheeks, and her whole face softens. “Gosh, look at you,” she breathes, voice thick with warmth as she pulls you into a hug before you can even put the suitcase down. “Oh, darling! It’s so lovely to see you again under such different circumstances, we’ve been desperate to see all of you since Sonny was born but we didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

There’s a sense of belonging that’s so overwhelming as you melt into her gold, dropping the suitcase to hug her back tightly with your own cheesy grin now blooming. You laugh against her shoulder, caught off guard by how natural it feels to be welcomed like this. “It’s lovely to see you again Cisca, rather than just hearing you over the phone or seeing you in passing as Lando’s mum at the podium.”

Cisca gasps, forgetting the formalities when her eyes fall upon Sonny, fussing quietly in his car seat but not being unpleasant, stretching and wriggling slightly in the way babies do at a month old. 

She’s already crouching down beside Lando to get a better look at the baby seat, cooing out gently as she touches his chubby little cheek. “And this - ohhh, hello, little one, yes, hi, this must be Sonny.”

Sonny stares up at her with wide eyes, fascinated by her blonde hair and bright earrings. Then he grins and Cisca gasps like he’s just performed magic. “Oh, he’s perfect! Look at those little cheeks! Lando, he’s got your smile. And look, mummy’s nose, oh, gosh. He’s just wonderful!” She clasps her hands together and looks up at the parents, faltering slightly at Lando’s sheepish frown. 

“C’mon mum, you know he’s not got my smile. Don’t be daft. He’s Max’s bloody double.” It’s something he’d never said aloud to you, but he felt emboldened now, part of him bitter that his mum was meeting his baby, that wasn’t technically his although he wished Sonny was, so desperately, more than anything in the world. He’d trade all of his wins and all of his money, he’d let go of his dream of being a champion, if it made Sonny his. But nothing could ever make that real, not biologically, though he’d always love him all the same. 

“Lando Norris, don’t you bloody dare blaspheme like that in my house. That man’s name isn’t to be mentioned, not after what he’s done to this beautiful doll and my darling new grandchild. Alright? He’s got his daddy’s cheeky smile and mummy’s sunny disposition - END. OF.” 

It’s said with enough finality that Lando goes quiet, other hand reaching to squeeze your waist before gesturing you to follow his mum into the kitchen, relief and content fills your expression as you go, grateful to have been welcomed with such open arms, flattered that Cisca would so easily call Sonny her grandson, her heart as big and full of love as her son’s. 

 Adam appears from behind the doorway when Cisca pushes open the kitchen door, drying his hands on a towel. He’s quieter than his wife but the twinkle in his eye gives away the same fondness. He shakes your hand warmly and presses a kiss to your temple in an overfamiliar way, then bends to get a better look at Sonny. “He’s a handsome little devil, isn’t he? Poor lad’s doomed to drive cars for a living with all the influence he’s surely got, though.”

“Don’t start,” Lando warns playfully after it had just been established that Sonny looks so like his biological father, setting the car seat on the table so the baby can see everyone.

Cisca gestures toward the dining spread that he sits among, upon the table, like a proud chef. “I didn’t know what you’d fancy after travelling, so I made a bit of everything.”

A bit of everything turns out to be sandwiches stacked high, two pies, scones, a lemon drizzle cake, just enough tea to take a bath in. You’re half-tempted to ask if the King himself is joining.

The conversation flows easily. Cisca keeps touching your arm when she laughs, and Adam teases Lando relentlessly - about his hair, his messy driving, his obvious nerves. The sound of it all, the laughter, the soft clinking of tea cups, Sonny’s quiet gurgles, is so cosy and real, it’s of a unit than you’d felt since, well, Max’s family. 

You can feel Lando’s eyes on you every so often, that proud, content little smile that says see? I told you they’d love you.

“So?” Adam finally asks, a heaviness descending upon everyone at the table with the weight of the elephant in the room. 

You glance up from the sandwich you’ve been half-picking at, pretending to be more interested in the crumbs than the direction of the question. “So… what?” You ask, careful and clipped as you feel your jaw tightening in anticipation of what might be coming. 

He puts his scone down, eyes following as he takes a glob of butter to spread it across the cake. “Well it certainly looks a way - and that’s not what we think, is it Cisca?” She chips in with a quick ‘course not’ before he continues. “Well, you know, none of what happened with the little one’s dad is your fault. But going from one driver to another?”

He leans back in his chair, eyes flicking between you and Lando. Cisca gasps and it’s clear that what she had been agreeing with, hadn’t been that. A wave of nausea rocks you momentarily as the sandwich finds the plate, entirely forgotten as you look from face to face around the table, Lando’s jaw slack. 

Cisca’s chair scrapes back sharply against the tiled floor. “Adam Norris!” She hisses, angry now, her voice cutting through the air like a whip. “You will not start that nonsense at my table.”

Adam blinks, startled by the ferocity of it, but doesn’t immediately back down. “I’m not starting anything,” he begins mildly, hands raised with his palms showing in defence, eyes slightly wide. “I’m just saying what everyone online is already-“

“We are not ‘everyone online.” Cisca snaps, her palm thudding against the table before she points an accusatory finger towards him, not full of malice but of warning, of passion. “And I’ll thank you to remember that this isn’t a headline, it’s our bloody son, who’s judgement I trust more than my own, with a gorgeous baby and this lovely girl who’s been through enough without you flapping your gums.”

The room is silent except for the faint gurgle from Sonny’s seat. You’re frozen, pulse hammering. The back of your neck prickles hot with shame and disbelief as you move to pick Sonny up, holding him against your chest like a comfort blanket. 

You manage to speak, though your voice comes out smaller than you intend. “I know how it looks, I do. Really.” You admit, eyes darting between them before finding Adam, trying to be brave and remind yourself that he’s just being a parent. “But I’m not… I didn’t jump from one to the other, Adam. That’s not what this is. Lando was my best friend when I was with Max. And Max and I… we’d had problems, we lost-“

Lando’s chair scrapes too as he leans forward, his hand immediately finding your thigh under the table, grounding you. “Enough, baby, you don’t have to... Fuck! Dad, you don’t get to reduce her to that. You know nothing about what she’s been through.”

“Really, I wasn’t.” Adam offers, panic-stricken now at the way he feels he’s been misconstrued, his approach to the subject entirely wrong and offensive as he shakes his head in apology. 

You exhale shakily, the tension in your chest cracking wide open as the tension seems to slowly begin dissipating with the unsaid apology. Adam looks from Lando to you, his stern face thawing, guilt setting in behind his eyes.

He sighs loudly and runs a hand down his tanned cheek. “I spoke out of turn,” he admits finally, voice quiet. “That was unfair. You’re right, both of you. ‘M sorry, love.”

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. “It’s alright,” you manage. “I get where you’re coming from. I just… I don’t want people thinking Sonny was ever part of that overlap. He wasn’t.”

“I know.” Adam’s tone softens further. “You have my word, alright?”

Cisca presses her lips together and exhales through her nose, visibly releasing the tension. “Well,” she says after a long pause, “now that that’s out of the way, how about we all stop behaving like we’re on an episode of EastEnders and have some of the lemon drizzle before it goes dry?”

Lando snorts, the sound breaking the fragile stillness. You let out a nervous laugh too, grateful for the out. 

Adam cuts slices of cake in silence for everyone, muttering something about never winning an argument in this house, Cisca rolls her eyes as she hands out plate by plate. Lando’s fingers brush over yours under the table, a silent reassurance that he’s there but it doesn’t yet feel like enough. 

“Sorry, am I okay to use a room for a moment? I should feed him before he gets restless now that he’s awake. We’ve got a bit of a routine going at the moment.”

“Cisca’s face softens immediately, the last of her irritation melting away. “Of course, darling,” she says, standing up at once. “You take as long as you need. You can use Lando’s bedroom if you’d like, do you want me to bring your cake and a fork?” She offers maternally but you shake your head and smile, rising from the chair as Lando follows, hand pressed to the small of your back. “I’ll show her to the room, thanks mum.” 

Cisca gives Lando a knowing look, something between affection and quiet approval, before shooing the both of you away with a wave of her hand. “Go on then, the pair of you. And don’t let that tea go cold or I’ll be cross.” She calls after you, flicking a tea towel playfully towards Lando’s backside as he passes to shoo the both of you on, though she doesn’t mean it at all, already beginning to fuss with the plates.

Lando keeps his hand at the small of your back as you leave the kitchen, the warmth of it seeping through the thin fabric of your top. The walk down the hall feels longer than it should but when you step into his old bedroom, everything falls away. 

It’s just so him. The walls carry a faint whiff of clean linen and the aftershave he used to use when you first met him, cheap shit that he practically showered in, the desk littered with old photo frames, books, bits of his younger life that have somehow survived his move to Monaco. Everything is perfectly dusted and seemingly as he left it. There’s a framed picture of him from his karting days above the pinboard on the desk, maybe thirteen or fourteen, grinning with his helmet under his arm, so happy and eager. 

There’s medals and trophies that stand on the shelf above his bed, football, cricket, cross country, karting. School certificates are pinned to the wall in the corner. A poster of some spy film. A nudie calendar boasting a picture of a woman with huge tits, sucking her pointed finger seductively, stuck on August 2021. A month after you’d started dating Max. A cold chill passes over you as you look back at Lando, offering a sad smile at the reminder that he’d loved you before you’d even started seeing Max casually. 

“She keep you company while I was with him?” It’s a way to ease the tension but he only stiffens and looks away, offering a hard shrug before he sighs out and shifts to sit on the bed, shoving his hand beneath the mattress to pull out an old magazine, faded and crinkled at the edges as if it’s been wet and dried funny. “Nah, had this bad boy for that.” 

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up at that while you settle down to feed Sonny, the easy, ridiculous kind that comes when the air’s been too tight for too long. The sound breaks through the heaviness like sunlight through clouds and Lando grins at the sight of you, his head tilting in that way that says there she is.

“You’re fucking disgusting, you pig. Didn’t you use pornhub like a normal hormonal teenage boy?” You manage between giggles, swatting lightly at his knee.

He shrugs with mock solemnity, flipping the magazine open to some painfully overexposed centre spread where she splits her sticky cunt with slender fingers, pouting at the magazine-holder. “Don’t judge me. I was a teenage boy with raging hormones and Wi-Fi limits, alright? This was top-tier entertainment back then. D’you wanna see my favourite page?” 

“Don’t be gross, course not. Unless you’ve got a print out in there of my Instagram, dickhead.” You smile and wave him away slightly, the laughter dying in your throat as you look away from the crusty porn mag and to the childhood room that he spent so long in before he was the way you knew him. But he’s still the same boy in those photos, in a way. The one who’s always wanted to make people laugh, to make you laugh.

Lando catches the shift in your expression and lets the magazine fall shut, setting it by his feet, his tone turning quieter. “Sorry about my dad.”

Sonny stirs again, letting out a tiny squeak that makes both of you smile despite the nature of the conversation, gulping down his lunch hungrily. “It’s only because he loves you, Lando. One day, we’ll be the same, y’know? Wary of everyone in his life, wanting to know that they have his best intention in mind. It wasn’t pleasant for me but I don’t blame him.”

Lando hums softly in agreement, his elbows resting on his knees, eyes fixed on the small rise and fall of Sonny’s tiny chest as he feeds. “Yeah, I know. Still - he could’ve picked a better time to go full protective dadmode. Had a bit of tact, y’know? You’ve barely been here ten minutes and he’s already interrogating you like a weirdo.”

You smile faintly, shaking your head. “It’s fine, really. I’m not any worse off for it and at least I know he cares. Better that than indifference, right? Besides, your mum way makes up for it. She called Sonny her grandchild, that’s a bit mental. I love her.”

“Mm,” Lando nods, running a hand through his hair in thought. “She’s a good mum. A good grandma to Mila, don’t see any reason Sonny would be any different. She seems smitten.”

That earns a soft laugh from you - quiet, tired, real. “I like her. She’s… she’s warm. I didn’t realise how much I missed that. All of the grid mums are just… special.“

He glances over, studying your face in the muted light filtering through his old curtains. There’s something wistful in your tone that makes his chest tighten. “You mean… with Max’s family?”

You hesitate, eyes falling to Sonny’s hand where it’s gripping the fabric of your top. “Yeah. They were always polite, you know? But it was formal. Careful. Like I was a guest who might spill something.” You look up, meeting his gaze. “Cisca hugged me before I even stepped inside. I haven’t had that in a long time.”

Lando swallows hard, throat working as he tries to find something to say that won’t sound clumsy or too much. “You deserve people who make you feel like that’s normal.” He decides finally, voice low but steady, gently bumping his shoulder against yours before reaching for the magazine once more. “Here.”

He opens the crinkly pages and you cringe at the noise, knowing what it means. It should be creepy when there’s a picture of you both on a beach. You look like babies and it makes you gasp softly, studying the image and remembering that day. It was early summer, the day after the race, your dad had attended, though you hadn’t. It was the day you’d met him. 

The day he’d introduced you to Max, too, who was almost in the corner of the picture. 

“Fucking hell, Lan…” For a moment, the only sound in the room is Sonny’s quiet suckling and the faint ticking of a clock on the desk. The world suddenly feels smaller at the sight of this photo, that you’d never seen before, which had been taken on Daniel’s phone. You’d not known them well enough to ask for a copy, hadn’t known who they were. 

“Never jacked it to the picture or anything. Used to jack it to the titty pictures then clean up and go to sleep looking at this. Fucking soft, isn’t it?”

You blink down at the photo again, thumb brushing the edge of the glossy paper where it’s begun to curl. You both look so impossibly young, the sunlight painting your faces, a world of things still ahead of you. Lando’s hair is too long, your bikini straps are uneven from the sea, and Max is a blurred figure in the corner — smiling, unaware of what would come later.

Your throat tightens. “You really kept this all that time?”

He gives a small, half-embarrassed shrug, eyes still on the photo. “Yeah. Stole it from Danny’s camera roll before I even had the guts to talk to you properly.” His mouth twitches in the ghost of a grin. “You looked so… happy that day. I wanted to remember it. God, I just knew. I was so naive and daft, what a little muppet, kid got it right though. Knew I’d end up with you someday, doesn’t matter that it’s taken a bit.”

Lando reaches for your hand and brings your knuckles to his lips, pressing a soft kiss. “I’ve got the girl, we’ve got a beautiful little boy. A dog that’s got far too much energy for me. The most perfect house. A championship on the way, hopefully. This kid…” He touches the picture fondly and nods his head slowly, his thumb grazing over your face and then his own. “This kid’s got it fuckin made. Couldn’t have turned out any better if it had gone differently, I reckon.”

Your eyes sting and you blink fast, shifting Sonny a little higher against your chest as if the movement might distract from the lump in your throat, agreeing quietly. 

He smiles softly at that - the kind of smile that breaks your heart because it’s full of relief and regret all at once. Then, quieter: “I just wish I’d told you sooner.”

“Maybe it wasn’t meant to happen sooner.” You say gently, turning the photo over so you don’t have to see that frozen version of yourselves, smiling at the inscription on the back - marry her one day. “We had to go through… all that. To get here.”

Lando nods, slow, thoughtful, knowing that you’re entirely right. It’s all been worth it. 

Baby Blues Taglist 💙

@freyathehuntress @ibetyouthinkaboutmefics @onlydeadcells @strawb3heart @raynetargaryan2 @d3kstar @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @mimisweetz @piston-cup @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @gandalfthegoatsblog @a-library-ofmy-own @lando-505 @okdokeygryssel63 @esw1012 @loveitwhenhelies @chaoswithus @dontsupressthejess @ravyn94 @bowielovesyou @mayax2o07 @remussbitch @wolfbc97 @camillyb @chlmtfilms @enjoythebutterflies11 @emluvsbunnies @ilovechickenwings @hi26loveie @fromsaltandsea @sesamepancakes @ohwhoisyou-rubyjane @v3nd3ttal3on @mel164 @bands-messed-me-up @yourbane @shawnscurlz @destinyg237 @lovelylunas-world @hey-there9-its-me @mel164 @fulla02 @fastandcurious16 @howling-wolf97 @maggiedog98 @czennieszn @raccoonintheforest @sukunassfinger @the-fandom-ness

[ibetyouthinkaboutmefics]

This is so beyond precious and adorable 🥺 I love seeing the in a fluffy situation 💕

[the-spicy-sugar]

WHERE THE HECK IS MY ANALYSIS GIRLIE 😭❤️

[ibetyouthinkaboutmefics]

I didn’t know if you still liked the or I was being delulu from my thoughts on the previous parts 😭 I didn’t wanna go off without having a vibe check, because I don’t wanna be so completely off base😭

[the-spicy-sugar]

A Heavy Elephant Enters the Room

Baby Blues Series - Part 24

Ex!Verstappen x Reader x Norris

Masterlist - Baby Blues Masterlist & Playlist

Summary: A visit to the Norris household to meet the ‘grandparents’(?) is well overdue for baby Sonny.

Note: The way I wrote all of this literally today hehehe I’ve got so many parts planned honestly but also working on smau!

wc 3.5k

suggested listen: The Night We Met by Lord Huron

Cisca has been waiting at the door for both of you all morning, practically bouncing on the balls on her heels, which Adam teases she shouldn’t be doing at her age or she’ll break something. 

She’s made pies and puddings and sandwiches and tea, the table littered with a spread that would rival a feast for a king, then again, the company she’s expecting isn’t short of royalty, considering the reputation Lando has given them. 

The door swings open as you stand on the other side, holding the suitcase you’d brought between you for a week, Lando holding Sonny in his car seat, beaming smile on his face as he leans in to kiss each of his mum’s cheeks when she greets him. 

Cisca’s eyes flick to you almost immediately after kissing Lando’s cheeks, and her whole face softens. “Gosh, look at you,” she breathes, voice thick with warmth as she pulls you into a hug before you can even put the suitcase down. “Oh, darling! It’s so lovely to see you again under such different circumstances, we’ve been desperate to see all of you since Sonny was born but we didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

There’s a sense of belonging that’s so overwhelming as you melt into her gold, dropping the suitcase to hug her back tightly with your own cheesy grin now blooming. You laugh against her shoulder, caught off guard by how natural it feels to be welcomed like this. “It’s lovely to see you again Cisca, rather than just hearing you over the phone or seeing you in passing as Lando’s mum at the podium.”

Cisca gasps, forgetting the formalities when her eyes fall upon Sonny, fussing quietly in his car seat but not being unpleasant, stretching and wriggling slightly in the way babies do at a month old. 

She’s already crouching down beside Lando to get a better look at the baby seat, cooing out gently as she touches his chubby little cheek. “And this - ohhh, hello, little one, yes, hi, this must be Sonny.”

Sonny stares up at her with wide eyes, fascinated by her blonde hair and bright earrings. Then he grins and Cisca gasps like he’s just performed magic. “Oh, he’s perfect! Look at those little cheeks! Lando, he’s got your smile. And look, mummy’s nose, oh, gosh. He’s just wonderful!” She clasps her hands together and looks up at the parents, faltering slightly at Lando’s sheepish frown. 

“C’mon mum, you know he’s not got my smile. Don’t be daft. He’s Max’s bloody double.” It’s something he’d never said aloud to you, but he felt emboldened now, part of him bitter that his mum was meeting his baby, that wasn’t technically his although he wished Sonny was, so desperately, more than anything in the world. He’d trade all of his wins and all of his money, he’d let go of his dream of being a champion, if it made Sonny his. But nothing could ever make that real, not biologically, though he’d always love him all the same. 

“Lando Norris, don’t you bloody dare blaspheme like that in my house. That man’s name isn’t to be mentioned, not after what he’s done to this beautiful doll and my darling new grandchild. Alright? He’s got his daddy’s cheeky smile and mummy’s sunny disposition - END. OF.” 

It’s said with enough finality that Lando goes quiet, other hand reaching to squeeze your waist before gesturing you to follow his mum into the kitchen, relief and content fills your expression as you go, grateful to have been welcomed with such open arms, flattered that Cisca would so easily call Sonny her grandson, her heart as big and full of love as her son’s. 

 Adam appears from behind the doorway when Cisca pushes open the kitchen door, drying his hands on a towel. He’s quieter than his wife but the twinkle in his eye gives away the same fondness. He shakes your hand warmly and presses a kiss to your temple in an overfamiliar way, then bends to get a better look at Sonny. “He’s a handsome little devil, isn’t he? Poor lad’s doomed to drive cars for a living with all the influence he’s surely got, though.”

“Don’t start,” Lando warns playfully after it had just been established that Sonny looks so like his biological father, setting the car seat on the table so the baby can see everyone.

Cisca gestures toward the dining spread that he sits among, upon the table, like a proud chef. “I didn’t know what you’d fancy after travelling, so I made a bit of everything.”

A bit of everything turns out to be sandwiches stacked high, two pies, scones, a lemon drizzle cake, just enough tea to take a bath in. You’re half-tempted to ask if the King himself is joining.

The conversation flows easily. Cisca keeps touching your arm when she laughs, and Adam teases Lando relentlessly - about his hair, his messy driving, his obvious nerves. The sound of it all, the laughter, the soft clinking of tea cups, Sonny’s quiet gurgles, is so cosy and real, it’s of a unit than you’d felt since, well, Max’s family. 

You can feel Lando’s eyes on you every so often, that proud, content little smile that says see? I told you they’d love you.

“So?” Adam finally asks, a heaviness descending upon everyone at the table with the weight of the elephant in the room. 

You glance up from the sandwich you’ve been half-picking at, pretending to be more interested in the crumbs than the direction of the question. “So… what?” You ask, careful and clipped as you feel your jaw tightening in anticipation of what might be coming. 

He puts his scone down, eyes following as he takes a glob of butter to spread it across the cake. “Well it certainly looks a way - and that’s not what we think, is it Cisca?” She chips in with a quick ‘course not’ before he continues. “Well, you know, none of what happened with the little one’s dad is your fault. But going from one driver to another?”

He leans back in his chair, eyes flicking between you and Lando. Cisca gasps and it’s clear that what she had been agreeing with, hadn’t been that. A wave of nausea rocks you momentarily as the sandwich finds the plate, entirely forgotten as you look from face to face around the table, Lando’s jaw slack. 

Cisca’s chair scrapes back sharply against the tiled floor. “Adam Norris!” She hisses, angry now, her voice cutting through the air like a whip. “You will not start that nonsense at my table.”

Adam blinks, startled by the ferocity of it, but doesn’t immediately back down. “I’m not starting anything,” he begins mildly, hands raised with his palms showing in defence, eyes slightly wide. “I’m just saying what everyone online is already-“

“We are not ‘everyone online.” Cisca snaps, her palm thudding against the table before she points an accusatory finger towards him, not full of malice but of warning, of passion. “And I’ll thank you to remember that this isn’t a headline, it’s our bloody son, who’s judgement I trust more than my own, with a gorgeous baby and this lovely girl who’s been through enough without you flapping your gums.”

The room is silent except for the faint gurgle from Sonny’s seat. You’re frozen, pulse hammering. The back of your neck prickles hot with shame and disbelief as you move to pick Sonny up, holding him against your chest like a comfort blanket. 

You manage to speak, though your voice comes out smaller than you intend. “I know how it looks, I do. Really.” You admit, eyes darting between them before finding Adam, trying to be brave and remind yourself that he’s just being a parent. “But I’m not… I didn’t jump from one to the other, Adam. That’s not what this is. Lando was my best friend when I was with Max. And Max and I… we’d had problems, we lost-“

Lando’s chair scrapes too as he leans forward, his hand immediately finding your thigh under the table, grounding you. “Enough, baby, you don’t have to... Fuck! Dad, you don’t get to reduce her to that. You know nothing about what she’s been through.”

“Really, I wasn’t.” Adam offers, panic-stricken now at the way he feels he’s been misconstrued, his approach to the subject entirely wrong and offensive as he shakes his head in apology. 

You exhale shakily, the tension in your chest cracking wide open as the tension seems to slowly begin dissipating with the unsaid apology. Adam looks from Lando to you, his stern face thawing, guilt setting in behind his eyes.

He sighs loudly and runs a hand down his tanned cheek. “I spoke out of turn,” he admits finally, voice quiet. “That was unfair. You’re right, both of you. ‘M sorry, love.”

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. “It’s alright,” you manage. “I get where you’re coming from. I just… I don’t want people thinking Sonny was ever part of that overlap. He wasn’t.”

“I know.” Adam’s tone softens further. “You have my word, alright?”

Cisca presses her lips together and exhales through her nose, visibly releasing the tension. “Well,” she says after a long pause, “now that that’s out of the way, how about we all stop behaving like we’re on an episode of EastEnders and have some of the lemon drizzle before it goes dry?”

Lando snorts, the sound breaking the fragile stillness. You let out a nervous laugh too, grateful for the out. 

Adam cuts slices of cake in silence for everyone, muttering something about never winning an argument in this house, Cisca rolls her eyes as she hands out plate by plate. Lando’s fingers brush over yours under the table, a silent reassurance that he’s there but it doesn’t yet feel like enough. 

“Sorry, am I okay to use a room for a moment? I should feed him before he gets restless now that he’s awake. We’ve got a bit of a routine going at the moment.”

“Cisca’s face softens immediately, the last of her irritation melting away. “Of course, darling,” she says, standing up at once. “You take as long as you need. You can use Lando’s bedroom if you’d like, do you want me to bring your cake and a fork?” She offers maternally but you shake your head and smile, rising from the chair as Lando follows, hand pressed to the small of your back. “I’ll show her to the room, thanks mum.” 

Cisca gives Lando a knowing look, something between affection and quiet approval, before shooing the both of you away with a wave of her hand. “Go on then, the pair of you. And don’t let that tea go cold or I’ll be cross.” She calls after you, flicking a tea towel playfully towards Lando’s backside as he passes to shoo the both of you on, though she doesn’t mean it at all, already beginning to fuss with the plates.

Lando keeps his hand at the small of your back as you leave the kitchen, the warmth of it seeping through the thin fabric of your top. The walk down the hall feels longer than it should but when you step into his old bedroom, everything falls away. 

It’s just so him. The walls carry a faint whiff of clean linen and the aftershave he used to use when you first met him, cheap shit that he practically showered in, the desk littered with old photo frames, books, bits of his younger life that have somehow survived his move to Monaco. Everything is perfectly dusted and seemingly as he left it. There’s a framed picture of him from his karting days above the pinboard on the desk, maybe thirteen or fourteen, grinning with his helmet under his arm, so happy and eager. 

There’s medals and trophies that stand on the shelf above his bed, football, cricket, cross country, karting. School certificates are pinned to the wall in the corner. A poster of some spy film. A nudie calendar boasting a picture of a woman with huge tits, sucking her pointed finger seductively, stuck on August 2021. A month after you’d started dating Max. A cold chill passes over you as you look back at Lando, offering a sad smile at the reminder that he’d loved you before you’d even started seeing Max casually. 

“She keep you company while I was with him?” It’s a way to ease the tension but he only stiffens and looks away, offering a hard shrug before he sighs out and shifts to sit on the bed, shoving his hand beneath the mattress to pull out an old magazine, faded and crinkled at the edges as if it’s been wet and dried funny. “Nah, had this bad boy for that.” 

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up at that while you settle down to feed Sonny, the easy, ridiculous kind that comes when the air’s been too tight for too long. The sound breaks through the heaviness like sunlight through clouds and Lando grins at the sight of you, his head tilting in that way that says there she is.

“You’re fucking disgusting, you pig. Didn’t you use pornhub like a normal hormonal teenage boy?” You manage between giggles, swatting lightly at his knee.

He shrugs with mock solemnity, flipping the magazine open to some painfully overexposed centre spread where she splits her sticky cunt with slender fingers, pouting at the magazine-holder. “Don’t judge me. I was a teenage boy with raging hormones and Wi-Fi limits, alright? This was top-tier entertainment back then. D’you wanna see my favourite page?” 

“Don’t be gross, course not. Unless you’ve got a print out in there of my Instagram, dickhead.” You smile and wave him away slightly, the laughter dying in your throat as you look away from the crusty porn mag and to the childhood room that he spent so long in before he was the way you knew him. But he’s still the same boy in those photos, in a way. The one who’s always wanted to make people laugh, to make you laugh.

Lando catches the shift in your expression and lets the magazine fall shut, setting it by his feet, his tone turning quieter. “Sorry about my dad.”

Sonny stirs again, letting out a tiny squeak that makes both of you smile despite the nature of the conversation, gulping down his lunch hungrily. “It’s only because he loves you, Lando. One day, we’ll be the same, y’know? Wary of everyone in his life, wanting to know that they have his best intention in mind. It wasn’t pleasant for me but I don’t blame him.”

Lando hums softly in agreement, his elbows resting on his knees, eyes fixed on the small rise and fall of Sonny’s tiny chest as he feeds. “Yeah, I know. Still - he could’ve picked a better time to go full protective dadmode. Had a bit of tact, y’know? You’ve barely been here ten minutes and he’s already interrogating you like a weirdo.”

You smile faintly, shaking your head. “It’s fine, really. I’m not any worse off for it and at least I know he cares. Better that than indifference, right? Besides, your mum way makes up for it. She called Sonny her grandchild, that’s a bit mental. I love her.”

“Mm,” Lando nods, running a hand through his hair in thought. “She’s a good mum. A good grandma to Mila, don’t see any reason Sonny would be any different. She seems smitten.”

That earns a soft laugh from you - quiet, tired, real. “I like her. She’s… she’s warm. I didn’t realise how much I missed that. All of the grid mums are just… special.“

He glances over, studying your face in the muted light filtering through his old curtains. There’s something wistful in your tone that makes his chest tighten. “You mean… with Max’s family?”

You hesitate, eyes falling to Sonny’s hand where it’s gripping the fabric of your top. “Yeah. They were always polite, you know? But it was formal. Careful. Like I was a guest who might spill something.” You look up, meeting his gaze. “Cisca hugged me before I even stepped inside. I haven’t had that in a long time.”

Lando swallows hard, throat working as he tries to find something to say that won’t sound clumsy or too much. “You deserve people who make you feel like that’s normal.” He decides finally, voice low but steady, gently bumping his shoulder against yours before reaching for the magazine once more. “Here.”

He opens the crinkly pages and you cringe at the noise, knowing what it means. It should be creepy when there’s a picture of you both on a beach. You look like babies and it makes you gasp softly, studying the image and remembering that day. It was early summer, the day after the race, your dad had attended, though you hadn’t. It was the day you’d met him. 

The day he’d introduced you to Max, too, who was almost in the corner of the picture. 

“Fucking hell, Lan…” For a moment, the only sound in the room is Sonny’s quiet suckling and the faint ticking of a clock on the desk. The world suddenly feels smaller at the sight of this photo, that you’d never seen before, which had been taken on Daniel’s phone. You’d not known them well enough to ask for a copy, hadn’t known who they were. 

“Never jacked it to the picture or anything. Used to jack it to the titty pictures then clean up and go to sleep looking at this. Fucking soft, isn’t it?”

You blink down at the photo again, thumb brushing the edge of the glossy paper where it’s begun to curl. You both look so impossibly young, the sunlight painting your faces, a world of things still ahead of you. Lando’s hair is too long, your bikini straps are uneven from the sea, and Max is a blurred figure in the corner — smiling, unaware of what would come later.

Your throat tightens. “You really kept this all that time?”

He gives a small, half-embarrassed shrug, eyes still on the photo. “Yeah. Stole it from Danny’s camera roll before I even had the guts to talk to you properly.” His mouth twitches in the ghost of a grin. “You looked so… happy that day. I wanted to remember it. God, I just knew. I was so naive and daft, what a little muppet, kid got it right though. Knew I’d end up with you someday, doesn’t matter that it’s taken a bit.”

Lando reaches for your hand and brings your knuckles to his lips, pressing a soft kiss. “I’ve got the girl, we’ve got a beautiful little boy. A dog that’s got far too much energy for me. The most perfect house. A championship on the way, hopefully. This kid…” He touches the picture fondly and nods his head slowly, his thumb grazing over your face and then his own. “This kid’s got it fuckin made. Couldn’t have turned out any better if it had gone differently, I reckon.”

Your eyes sting and you blink fast, shifting Sonny a little higher against your chest as if the movement might distract from the lump in your throat, agreeing quietly. 

He smiles softly at that - the kind of smile that breaks your heart because it’s full of relief and regret all at once. Then, quieter: “I just wish I’d told you sooner.”

“Maybe it wasn’t meant to happen sooner.” You say gently, turning the photo over so you don’t have to see that frozen version of yourselves, smiling at the inscription on the back - marry her one day. “We had to go through… all that. To get here.”

Lando nods, slow, thoughtful, knowing that you’re entirely right. It’s all been worth it. 

Baby Blues Taglist 💙

@freyathehuntress @ibetyouthinkaboutmefics @onlydeadcells @strawb3heart @raynetargaryan2 @d3kstar @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @mimisweetz @piston-cup @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @gandalfthegoatsblog @a-library-ofmy-own @lando-505 @okdokeygryssel63 @esw1012 @loveitwhenhelies @chaoswithus @dontsupressthejess @ravyn94 @bowielovesyou @mayax2o07 @remussbitch @wolfbc97 @camillyb @chlmtfilms @enjoythebutterflies11 @emluvsbunnies @ilovechickenwings @hi26loveie @fromsaltandsea @sesamepancakes @ohwhoisyou-rubyjane @v3nd3ttal3on @mel164 @bands-messed-me-up @yourbane @shawnscurlz @destinyg237 @lovelylunas-world @hey-there9-its-me @mel164 @fulla02 @fastandcurious16 @howling-wolf97 @maggiedog98 @czennieszn @raccoonintheforest @sukunassfinger @the-fandom-ness

[ibetyouthinkaboutmefics]

This is so beyond precious and adorable 🥺 I love seeing the in a fluffy situation 💕

[the-spicy-sugar]

Serving Papers 📝

Baby Blues Series - Part 23 [part 4]

Ex!Verstappen x Reader x Norris

Masterlist - Baby Blues Masterlist & Playlist

Summary: Sonny is finally released from hospital but not everyone feels the joy of the occasion.

Note: If you’re on the taglist and you don’t want to be - please let me know! It’s so long atm and I’m thinking of beginning fresh, also let me know if you’d like to remain on it!!

wc 2.8k

suggested listen: Ghost Town by Benson Boone

The darkness of night slowly retreats, making way for the warm glow of morning to come in through the small gaps in the blinds of Sonny’s hospital room. You’ve been awake for what feels like days, your body running on autopilot, the hard plastic of the bedside chair carving lines into your back. Eventually, you’d given in to the fog of exhaustion and stolen ten minutes in the bathroom to wash your face, brush your teeth, just feel human again.

There’s something that might seem unnatural about the way that Sonny seems to wail almost immediately as soon as he can sense your presence has shifted. You’re too far down the hall behind the closed door to hear it, opting for the vending machine for any kind of caffeine to keep yourself awake. The irony of the decision isn’t lost on you either, the bottom row full of Monster and Red Bull, side by side. Eventually the warm drink machine wins out - the comforting pull of coffee too apparent to refuse. 

In the room, the baby’s cries are soft sniffly whines, breaking out into a low pitched wail, gradually getting louder as Sonny tries to get attention. The hands that lift him are big, paler than he’s used to. Max’s hold is natural on the baby boy as he bounces him gently, bringing him into his chest to calm him, shushing and whispering sweet nothings to the baby boy. 

“Why are you crying for, schatje? Mama is going to be a minute, papa’s here though, huh? Just a little different, jongen.” He promised, despite not knowing where you are or where you’d gone, he’d been waken by the small cries. He rocks slowly and tries to rub Sonny’s back, his voice low and hurried, Dutch spilling from his lips like maybe the baby will understand the comfort in his tone. But Sonny only arches his tiny back, fists balled, cheeks blotchy red and the noise doesn’t falter even for a moment. 

He’s trying, really trying, but the baby only kicks harder against his baby-gro. “You’ve got to rub it side to side. He’s a bit weird that way.” Lando offered quietly, hands itching and shoved deep in his pockets as he held himself back from getting involved in the moment that his little deserved with his father, the latter not so much. 

The hand that swept back and forth over sonny’s back was clumsy and uncoordinated, Max unused to rubbing in a way that didn’t resemble a circle. The perfectionist in him let out a low growl of frustration, not liking that Lando, who had no parental experience, was trying to school him, a father of, technically, four. 

Max adjusts his hand, rubbing slower, but still in those tight little circles, stubborn in the way only he can be. Sonny’s cries pitch higher, his face scrunching in frustration, little body restless against Max’s chest.

You’re not there to hear it, and maybe that’s why Lando steps closer. His restraint has limits, especially when it comes to Sonny. His voice stays soft, even as tension knots across his shoulders.

“Here, let me.” He murmurs a quiet demand and before Max can object, Lando slips his hands beneath the baby, gentle but certain.

Max doesn’t fight him - he lets go, reluctantly, like he knows this isn’t the hill to die on. His jaw tightens, and his eyes flick down to Sonny as though he’s already anticipating what’s about to happen. Lando just scoops Sonny up into his arms like it’s second nature, tucking him against his chest with a gentle sway. His hand rubs slow circles on Sonny’s back before doing the back and forth, shoulder to shoulder, like he’d tried to show Max, his head dipping close, curls brushing against his son’s temple.

“Hey, hey, little man. It’s alright. I’ve got you. Daddy’s here.”

The words are soft, barely above a whisper, but the effect is immediate. The cries stutter, then weaken, Sonny’s small body trembling as the sobs taper into whimpers. Within moments, he melts against Lando’s chest, hiccupping quietly as he rubs his little mittens down the fabric of Lando’s hoodie.

“That’s it.” Lando coos out, fingers moving to brush down the downy fluff of his cheek, their eyes locked as the baby begins to calm. “There we go, my little sunshine. Good boy, that’s it. Mummy’s only going to be a minute. You don’t wanna give her a fright, d’you? No, course you don’t, sweet boy.” 

The silence that follows isn’t quiet at all, it thrums, heavy in the room, broken only by the soft sound of Sonny’s breathing as he calms against Lando’s heartbeat.

Max looks away first, sickened by the sweet scene that he wants to be angry about, knowing he has no right - his hands fall uselessly to his sides, then curl into fists before shoving to cross over his broad chest, a posture of surrender he’ll never admit to. His lips presses into a thin of a line as he manages, the muscle in his jaw working hard.

It’s as if you’ve been willed by the mention of your name alone just a moment ago. You push the door open, coffee clutched in your hand, the faint scent of it trailing in with you and seeping into the space. For a second, you don’t see the tension - you just see your baby, calm and settled, your boyfriend with his curls, unruly from a night in a hospital chair, bent over Sonny protectively - and Max, standing stiff as stone beside them.

It isn’t immediately clear what’s going on, but it’s enough that Max has a face of thunder and the baby is babbling away quite happily with Lando - the sentences are there and it’s easy enough to write the story alongside the image. Sonny giving Lando the reassurance that he’d needed last night, despite being given it by you. 

It’s clear that Sonny has found a safe space in the curve of Lando’s elbow and the warmth of his chest that Max had never provided. 

Your coffee cools quickly in your hand as you take a step in, careful to keep your tone light, not wanting to ruin the fragile peace in the room.

“Looks like someone’s finally settled.”

Lando glances at you, eyes softer now, and his mouth curves into the faintest smile. “Yeah. He’s okay.”

Before you can say anything else, the door creaks again and the doctor steps in, her white coat rustling as she flips open the file in her hands. She offers a quick, professional smile before her gaze flickers to Sonny, his big blue eyes drooping as he seems to be fighting sleep. 

“Good morning, Verstappen family and... yes. I have some good news for you all.” She says gently, her French accent wrapping around the words as an awkward grimace blooms on her features as she glances to both fathers and mother for a moment, not sure who is who to the baby other than that they’re a family unit. She moves closer to the crib, checking the monitors before nodding with approval, offering a bright smile to make up from the temporary slip of her mask. 

“Sonny’s vital signs are stable. His oxygen levels have remained consistent overnight and his feeding observations show he is tolerating well. I am happy to discharge him today and with the care plan I am providing, he should continue to improve at home.”

She sets the clipboard on the counter, sliding a few sheets of paper free. “I’ll give you instructions on feeding positions, frequency, what signs to watch for. You may also want to keep him slightly upright after feeds. We’ll arrange a follow up appointment in a few weeks to check his progress.”

Your chest eases with relief, the weight you’ve carried for the last forty-eight hours finally loosening. “So we can take him home? That’s it?” Your voice is cautious, hopeful, scared to believe that the nightmare is over too soon in case you’re pulled back. 

The doctor smiles and nods. “Oh thank fuck. I’m glad he’s okay and that but I couldn’t have managed another night in that chair, my poor back.” Lando offers a joke, hoping it won’t be taken badly by the professional before shooting you a grin, half cowering at the playful glare you send back, letting him know that he has no choice - he’d have slept there as long as Sonny had needed him to, which, of course he knew. 

Home. You picture your apartment, Peanut curled up - waiting by the door, the nursery with its soft blankets, already it the idea of tucking Sonny into his own bassinet tonight feels much safer than for him to be in a plastic hospital box, tiny body hooked to beeping machines and invasive wires. 

Lando rocks him gently, pressing a kiss into his soft hair with a teasing grin, bumping his nose to the baby’s temple gently. “Hear that, little man? We’re taking you home. Gonna get mommy’s milk again instead of that weird tube.”

Max exhales slowly through his nose, his throat tightening and chest aching at the thought of you breastfeeding the baby, somehow, he’s not considered it until now. He feels it as you glance at him, reading the tension still bristling beneath the cool exterior that found him seven championships, but his eyes are on Sonny, not you, and for once he says nothing.

His jaw works like he’s grinding something down before spitting out, “I’ll go. You two clearly have it handled.” The words are flat and clipped but there’s venom tucked just beneath them, a bite that can’t be missed.

You shift your weight, coffee still warm in your hand though it suddenly tastes bitter on your tongue, setting the cup aside to reach and touch the edge of his elbow, not wanting this to end this way. “Max…” You mean it as a warning, or maybe as an attempt to soften him, but he doesn’t give you the chance.

“You don’t need me here if you’ve already built your little happy family picture.” He adds, voice low, hard edges masked under a coolness that doesn’t quite stick. It’s rich coming from him, it’s the elephant in the room that goes felt but unmentioned as your eyes darken, feeling the anger and hurt coursing through you once again at the audacity that he seems to hold despite never having the power. 

“Okay, Max. If that’s how you’ll be. I didn’t want us to have the conversation like this, but I wanted to let you know that a lawyer will be by with some documents for you and your ‘happy little family’.” 

Lando shifts Sonny slightly, protective without even meaning to, his thumb rubbing over the baby’s soft back. The silence that follows feels heavy, like a storm pressing against the windows.

“Divorce?” He half scoffed, not seeming to care, he’d fobbed the divorce papers off a handful of times already, not letting you legally part from him. He moves towards the door, shaking his head slightly as he attempts to leave. You step closer, not willing to let Max just slip away in the middle of the room like a ghost before hearing you out, clearly not taking the mention seriously. 

“No, Max. Commercial exploitation, defamation, public disclosure of private facts and breach of confidentiality - over the Hello Monaco stunt she pulled. Tell your girlfriend that your wife is going to fucking end her. And that her lilies were wilted and cheap.” It was a lie but she knew that the mention of Kelly being cheaper than her in any sense would rile Max entirely. 

Max freezes mid-step, his hand still on the doorframe. His shoulders rise and fall once, a slow inhale through his nose, the only sign he’s been hit square in the chest. When he turns, his face is carved in marble, every line sharpened with fury he’s trying to hold together.

“You’d drag all of this into court?” His tone is even but you hear the jagged edge beneath, filled with disbelief and a bump to his pride. “You’d put me and my son through that circus? Over her?”

“He’s my son too.” You say, voice low and firm, more sure of yourself than you’ve felt speaking to Max in a long time now, the words landing heavier than you expect. “And you already dragged him into it the second you let her sell his name. That wasn’t me, Max. That was you, when you didn’t stop her. She tried to ruin my name, she tried to ruin my life. If you’re a man who can be so easily led astray, let her lead you. Let her guide you right down to fucking Hell where she’s going after what she did to me while I was pregnant with Sonny.”

His mouth opens, then shuts again, the muscles in his jaw flexing as anger and understanding seep from every pore on his body. There’s no defence that doesn’t sound hollow, no excuse that doesn’t reek of guilt. His eyes flicker briefly to Sonny, tiny chest rising and falling against Lando’s hoodie, the man being graceful enough not to acknowledge Max’s situation, pretending he can’t hear rather than becoming a leering audience, though Max knows perfectly that his successor is listening. His eyes settle on you with a bitterness that makes your skin prickle, so unlike the soft blue that used to be reserved for you. 

“You think you’ve won something here.” He mutters finally, voice rough with the kind of anger that comes from defeat more than certainty. “But that little family picture you’re clinging to? It won’t last. You don’t really think he’s ready for a baby, do you? Lando can’t even dress himself most mornings. He cries when he 

when he loses a race. You think that man can hold it together for a child? For you?”

His voice is sharper now, cutting through the room like glass underfoot. He wants it to sting, wants to find the crack in your armour. But all it does is hang there, bitter and sour, with no weight behind it because Sonny’s soft, steady breaths are pressed into Lando’s chest and not his.

Lando doesn’t flinch, doesn’t bite back the way Max probably expects him to. He just rubs Sonny’s back, steady and rhythmic, his gaze fixed on the tiny boy in his arms like Max’s words don’t even touch him. That silence, that lack of reaction, somehow infuriates Max more than if Lando had lashed out.

You take a step closer, voice low, controlled, deliberate. “You’d better go before you’re asked to leave, Max. We need to get our son ready to go back to our home, where he belongs. With his mummy and daddy.”

He pushes the door open with a controlled shove and walks out, footsteps hard against the linoleum until the sound disappears into the corridor.

The silence left behind feels too big, too heavy, pressing down on you until Lando shifts, murmuring softly into Sonny’s hair, like the baby can hear the reassurance meant for you. “Mummy was pretty fuckin’ badass there, huh baby?”

Baby Blues Taglist 💙

@freyathehuntress @ibetyouthinkaboutmefics @onlydeadcells @strawb3heart @raynetargaryan2 @d3kstar @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @mimisweetz @piston-cup @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @gandalfthegoatsblog @a-library-ofmy-own @lando-505 @okdokeygryssel63 @esw1012 @loveitwhenhelies @chaoswithus @dontsupressthejess @ravyn94 @bowielovesyou @mayax2o07 @remussbitch @wolfbc97 @camillyb @chlmtfilms @enjoythebutterflies11 @emluvsbunnies @ilovechickenwings @hi26loveie @fromsaltandsea @sesamepancakes @ohwhoisyou-rubyjane @v3nd3ttal3on @mel164 @bands-messed-me-up @yourbane @shawnscurlz @destinyg237 @lovelylunas-world @hey-there9-its-me @mel164 @fulla02 @fastandcurious16 @howling-wolf97 @maggiedog98 @czennieszn @raccoonintheforest @sukunassfinger @the-fandom-ness 

[ibetyouthinkaboutmefics]

LET’S FUCKING GOOOO!!!!!!

Her going off and talking about the lawsuits, that I was hesitant she was going forward with since she had so much going off, is like Christmas. GET HIS ASS!! GET FULL CUSTODY OF SONNY!! GET THE DIVORCE!! Ugh, I’m so excited for what she has going for her. We have Sonny, Lando, & getting justice 🎉 Also, low-key Max doing that with the divorce papers is giving manipulation and power. That paired with the other stuff she’s going after them for will have to help her tremendously with custody. I’m not saying Max can never see him, but Sonny by no means should be away from her. He has a stable home with his parents, in a world Max probably couldn’t even comprehend because the man ignored her.

Lando fighting his instincts to not comfort Sonny, so Max could have that moment and even trying to help him comfort Sonny was everything. It felt like it said all that needed to be said about his growth and how he feels about Sonny. Not only when Lando soothed Sonny, it cemented his relationship with him. That’s his son, and Sonny to him is just as equal to his feelings for our girl. That’s love. She assured him, but it took the other missing piece to make him feel whole again. Ugh, I love this series so much. Our girl, Lando, and Sonny are everything.

[the-spicy-sugar]

In the Arms of Another

Baby Blues Series - Part 23 [Part 3]

Ex!Verstappen x Reader x Norris

Masterlist - Baby Blues Masterlist & Playlist

Summary: After storm prevents Lando from getting to Monaco as soon as he’d like which leads to unexpected insecurity.

Note: Maybe I lied and there’ll be a Part 23 - part IV rather than just the III parts! Apologies but hopefully you’re enjoying 🩷

wc 3.7k

suggested listen: Beautiful Boy by John Lennon

It’s late into the night when Lando finally pushes through the glass doors of the paediatric ward, exhaustion tugging at every step. His shoes squeak faintly on the polished floor and the scent of disinfectant clings heavy in the air. He drags a hand over his face, eyes stinging from the long drive after a diversion, unable to land in Nice because of a tropical storm rolling in from the East.

He’d left the shoot without a moment of consideration after Pierre had called to update him on the situation when everyone had arrived to the hospital - initially, he was hurt for the first hour or two that you hadn’t made the call, but ultimately, he understood that Sonny was your priority in the moment.

The hospital is quiet and the lights have been lowered to accommodate the sleeping children in the respiratory ward, the fluorescent bulbs making his vision blur and warp slightly with tiredness as he approaches the front desk with a small smile, suddenly nervous.

He clears his throat, quiet, immediately made uncomfortable by the noise echoing in the stillness of the hallway. “Hiya, sorry, I know visiting times are over - I called ahead. My girlfriend is here with our baby. Sonny Verstappen?”

The nurse gives a small nod, glances at her clipboard and gestures down the dim corridor as if he’d have been unable to find it without being shown as well as told. “Oui, d’accord. End of the hall, left-hand side.”

Lando nods, mutters a soft thank you and follows the muted glow of nightlights until he finds the door. There’s only five rooms down this hallway, two on the left, it’s easy to see which one is correct and his chest tightens as he reads the little plaque with Sonny’s name on it, the sight stinging in a way he doesn’t want to admit. Sonny Verstappen. Always Verstappen - the arsehole is winning competitions he doesn’t even know he’s having, Lando thinks to himself.

He takes a breath, steels himself and slips inside.

The room is hushed, the only sound the rhythmic drip of an IV pump and the low wheeze of the ventilator system. His gaze falls first to the bassinet, where Sonny sleeps, the room is dark and it’s hard to make much out as he steps into the room almost blindly, his hands outstretched to steady himself on the plastic edge of the little bed as he approaches, letting his hand come to sit on Sonny’s fluffy hair for a long moment.

He’d spent the whole day feeling scared and afraid and god, so far away. To see him now, calm, sleeping, okay - it felt like everything he needed.

But then his eyes shift - and the relief shatters into something unsatisfactory and miserable.

You’re curled in the chair beside the crib, head tilted, cheek resting against Max’s chest. His arm lies slack over the armrest but close enough that your shoulder brushes his ribs, his head bowed as if exhaustion finally claimed him too. The two of you, side by side, tethered by the baby in the crib ahead of you.

Lando freezes. He feels it in his chest like an arrow, the overwhelming sense that he’s an intruder in this moment, like someone’s cracked his sternum open with their bare hands, ripping him clear in two. For months he’d let himself believe it - the late nights on the cosy new sofa he’d helped pick up, Peanut’s paws padding around the kitchen, your laughter when you leaned into him.

He thinks of the kisses and cuddles, quiet words whispered against your belly before Sonny’s arrival to remind him that he does have a daddy that loves him.

Lando’s phone rings in his pocket, the loud chiming of FaceTime feeling obnoxious as he answers it, immediately self conscious of passers by hearing the noise and turning to look at him.

Your sweet face is pressed close to the screen with a dazed smile, its late over in Japan and he knows that’s why you’re drunk, Yuki being, as always, the best worst influence on you after the breakup with Max.

“I love you Lan. For stickin’up f’me.” The words are slurred but he knows what the sentiment means, knows you mean it too. He moves aside as he stands there in the middle of the supermarket, smiling down at his phone, at you. There’s mascara smeared beneath your eyes from tears that’ve been wiped away and he finds himself longing to be the one distracting you from all of this. From Max.

“Course. Love you too, y’know I’d do anything for you whether you asked for it or not.” He offered, unable to pull his eyes from your lazy smile and clumsy movements as you climb into bed, make up and all, face pressing to the pillows, phone finding darkness as you flop down and momentarily forget him with your interest in comfort.

“Get some sleep muppet, you’re off your tits on whatever Yuki’s been ordering you.” He teased with a small smile, crowding closer to the nearby freezers as if to hide the intimate moment, to keep this small moment all to himself.

Even now, he doesn’t know what you remember from that night. The way you’d called him back just a few minutes after hanging up to tell Lando that you wish you’d never chosen Max.

There had always been something magnetic between you both though - he was seeing it again now, the memory slipping away from him as he crashed back down to reality, his girlfriends head on her husbands chest. It sounded far less sympathy-worthy that way than if he considered that the love of his life was still in love with the man that dismantled her life brick by brick and gave her two beautiful children.

He’d let himself believe he’d been stepping into a role, and slowly, he’d let himself think that maybe it was his family that you were building.

But standing here now, staring at you pressed into Max’s side, he sees it for what it is. A fantasy.

Because no matter what Max has done, no matter how badly he’d ruined everything, it doesn’t for a moment change the fact that the baby in the crib is his. Yours and his. And Lando is just… outside, as he’d always been, albeit not as far as he used to be.

His throat burns as he shifts his weight, stepping up to gently brush your hair from your face, his thumb ghosting over your bottom lip. You stir, lashes fluttering before your eyes blink open, groggy and disoriented by the hardness of a chest that clearly isn’t Lando’s based on him now stepping away.

You don’t move at first - your face still laid on Max’s chest - but then you begin to process Lando standing there in the sluggish, newly-woken manner, his jaw tight and stare unreadable.

“Lan?” Your voice is rough with sleep as you push yourself upright, blinking at him in the dim light. Your hand lifts from Max’s sleeve and falls into your lap, slowly becoming aware of the situation and how it must look.

Reaching for his hand is instinctive but he pushes both fists deep into the pockets of the new Quadrant hoodie he’s wearing, pulling away from you for the first time.

There’s no space for either of you to be hurt at the moment as your gaze flicks to Sonny, sleepily soundly, suddenly feeling more guilty about falling asleep while he’s so helpless than being seen sleeping against Max’s chest. It’s bigger than both of you, bigger than something so silly and juvenile.

“Did Pierre fill you in about what the doctor said?” Your tone is hushed, not wanting to wake Max, despite his hurt, wanting Lando to yourself before the two men inevitably butt heads because they’re unable to do anything else for the past nine months, it seems.

He gives a small nod and his anger cracks, the vulnerability that lies below becoming clear as you stand to scoop him into a tight hold, hand coming to pull the back of his neck so his head presses comfortably to your shoulder, the scent of you and your warmth surrounding him.

His voice is small and scared as he wraps his arms tight around your waist, pulling you deeper into him. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. When he was crying last night, I should’ve-“

Your fingers slide up into his curls as you give short, stern words in response. “Don’t you dare Lan. Don’t feel guilty. You never could’ve known that it wasn’t just him crying to be fed, I should’ve noticed sooner, if anything. He’s okay, that’s all that matters.”

Lando exhales shakily against your collarbone, his hands cling tighter to your waist, fingers rubbing slow circles, he’s not sure who he’s trying to calm though, his body trembling with adrenaline and anxiety from the long drive, the storm, the sight he walked in on - from Sonny being unwell and him not being there to comfort him, comfort you.

He mumbles into your skin, voice almost breaking. “But it’s not enough, is it? I’m not… him. I never will be.”

You can feel the weight of Max sleeping just behind you, the undeniable proof that Lando’s fear is real, that there’s a truth here you can’t soften with a hug.

You tilt back just enough to see his face, your hand still steady at the back of his neck. His eyes are glassy in the low light, his lips pressed tight like he’s trying to stop more words from falling out.

“Lando,” you say, quiet, deliberate, because you know you can’t lie to him, not about this. “You’re not him. And thank god you’re not. I don’t need you to be.”

He shakes his head, a bitter sound catching in his throat. “But he gets everything. He gets you, he gets Sonny, he gets to sit there and—” His voice fractures, and he glances at the crib before biting back the rest.

“Sonny’s got Max’s name, yeah. His blood. That’s true. But you’re the one who drove through a storm to be here. You’re the one he’ll know is here when it counts.” There’s a crack in the words as emotion washes over you, lapping now like a wave, ready to carry both of you away from this.

“You changed his first nappy, you did skin to skin with him when he was born. You painted his room when I was too pregnant to manage myself - built half of the furniture. God, I want you to cry when we do the school drop off and when you realise the penny drop for the first time in his eyes when he realises how proud he is of you, of his daddy, Lando Norris. He’s half Max, sure. But that doesn’t mean he’s his.”

Your thumb strokes across his cheek, catching the dampness he can’t hide. “You’re the one I asked to stay.”

For a moment, he doesn’t breathe. Then he closes his eyes and leans into your touch like he’s been holding himself together for months and finally, finally, it’s safe to let go. Because he has, there’s always been an uncertainty, deep down, that maybe he was a placeholder. He’d spent so much of your late pregnancy reassuring you that he wanted you and the baby, no matter what, that neither of you had realised he needed the same.

He searches your face, aged by the birth of your son and the worry of tonight, though just as beautiful, every line and shadow, like he’s trying to memorise the promise you’ve just made him - that you don’t see him as a podium finisher, second-best to the champion.

And then he kisses you.

It’s desperate at first and you can’t help but murmur softly at the taste of Monster on his tongue as his hand cups your cheek and brings you closer, other hand snaking down to your thigh to lift your leg around his hip. It doesn’t feel like the right time or place, but somehow, it’s everything you need. A moment of normalcy.

Behind you, Max shifts faintly in his chair, and your stomach drops with the sharp reminder of where you are. The reminder that this moment, tender as it is, is dangerous. But Lando doesn’t move away. He kisses you again, slower this time, like he’s proving his point: you asked him to stay. He doesn’t ever plan not to stay, for both of you.

It’s nothing special but it feels like everything. Just Lando, his breath mixing with yours, the taste of him reminding you of every laugh, every late-night confession, every time he’s shown up when you needed him most.

When you finally pull back, both of you are breathing hard. He racks a hand up through his hair and steps back with a shaky sigh, looking over at Max, who seems to be blinking sleep away, both men seeming to tense with something unspoken as they give acknowledging nods to one another.

They go back to not acknowledging each other soon enough, Max still sporting a mottled brown mark on the side of his face, though neither have shared that they’re familiar with the story of it.

Max shifts, his posture stiffening as he blinks himself awake. The dim light casts shadows across his face, exhaustion deep in the lines under his eyes, but there’s alertness too - sharp and wary at the sight of Lando, a hesitance you’ve never noticed before. His gaze lands first on you, then slides to Lando, lingering with an unspoken question that feels heavy enough to choke on, unaware of what had transpired moments ago when you’d woken in a precarious position.

The nods exchanged are nothing more than brittle acknowledgements. Max’s chin dips once, curt, his mouth pressing into a hard frown. Lando mirrors it, shoulders squared and eyes dark.

The air in the room changes, thick with tension that wasn’t there a minute ago. You can almost hear the words neither of them are saying: mostly bullshit, both men wanting to piss about and mark some sort of territory, both wanting to stake a claim on ‘their’ family.

You step forward, instinctively placing yourself between them, though it’s not like either of them is moving. It’s more the need to hold ground, to remind both men where the centre of the situation is - not Max, not Lando. Sonny. And that, ultimately, you’re the boss of all of this.

“Don’t,” you whisper, quiet but firm. Your eyes lock with Max’s, then with Lando’s. “Not here. Not now.”

Max lets out a low breath through his nose, rubbing at his temple, maybe too tired to bother fighting but unwilling to let it go either. He doesn’t look at Lando again - his eyes are on you now and it’s the dark sadness in your eyes that makes him relent, letting it go.

“I’ll get some water.” Max mutters, voice gravelly as he stands slowly, careful not to jostle you as he goes, taking a wide berth where you stand closer to Lando now, as if he can’t bear to be any closer because that would mean acknowledging that you’re no longer his.

He moves toward the door, each step heavy but purposeful, the kind of retreat that still feels like possession. Like he’s leaving for brownie points with you rather than because it’s the right thing to do, to show that he can listen.

When the door clicks softly shut, Lando exhales, the sound trembling out of him. He drags his hands down his face. “He’s such a fuckin’ arsehole. Thought he was gonna hit me back for a minute.” He scoffs as he goes, rolling his eyes, knuckles whitening with the effort he’s putting into balling his fists in his hoodie pockets, only letting them unclench as he lets out a shaky breath, trying to push it all away for yours and the little one’s sake.

There’s a soft huff of air and your head shakes, fingers gently brushing over Sonny’s little foot in his baby-gro, beeping and whirring with the effort of the machines he’s hooked up to for observation. Your back is to Lando now so he can’t see the moment of confusion but he surely hears it. “Hit you back?”

Lando freezes at your words, jaw flexing like he hadn’t meant to let that slip. He swallows, eyes darting anywhere but at you - the floor, the IV stand, to your hand that’s settled comfortably on Sonny, no doubt not for long. There’s a surprised laugh that comes from you before you know it, it’s strangled and frustrated as you realise what might’ve happened. His wordless evasiveness being answer enough. “Tell me you fucking didn’t, Lando. Because I swear-“

He drags a hand through his curls, the gesture jerky with pent-up frustration, then finally lets his eyes meet yours. They’re glassy and exhausted, darkening with an anger that’s more intense than his usual frustration with Max and Kelly.

“When he sent you those texts when Sonny was born, when he was just being a total fucking dick. I just couldn’t stop… God. I went over to his, I didn’t plan for it to happen but he was pretty much asking for it. He was saying you and Sonny were his and I just… I seen red. He shoved me and I bit back, punched him in the face. Burst his nose.”

He expects a chewing out so he’s surprised when you give a shy smile, glancing back over your shoulder at him in the most coquettish way that makes his skin tingle and his dick twitch despite the situation.

“I hate to encourage that type of behaviour, but I suppose it was bound to happen at some point. Better to get it over and done with so we can work things out sooner. Part of me wishes I’d seen it. Was it satisfying?”

Your voice is low, teasing, but there’s something underneath it too—a crack of nerves, a sharp edge of disbelief that he actually admitted it out loud.

Lando stares at you, caught between shame and pride, the corners of his mouth twitching like he doesn’t know which way to fall. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, hoodie sleeves pulled down over his fists like he’s trying to hide them from you, hide the fact that his knuckles had once been raw from that night.

Your eyes glint with the kind of mischief that makes him want to drag you into his arms and kiss you senseless, but your tone is careful, too careful, like you’re testing the waters of how far he’ll go.

He lets out a breathy laugh, low and almost guilty. “Yeah. It was. For about ten seconds. Then I realised I’d just punched the father of your kid and…” He shrugs, curls falling into his eyes as he tilts his head down. “Didn’t exactly feel like I was a winner after that.”

You lean back against the edge of Sonny’s crib, arms crossing over your chest, watching him like you’re trying to decide whether you want to give him a telling off or show your appreciation once you’re home and all of this shit is finished. Maybe both.

“Part of me thinks you’re a complete muppet.” You murmur, though your lips curl into the faintest smile, shaking your head and letting it fall away just as quickly. “The other part thinks… maybe you were just doing what I should’ve done sooner.”

Lando lifts his gaze, his eyes soft even though his jaw is still tight. “I wasn’t saying it for me. I was saying it for you. For Sonny. He doesn’t get to talk about you like that, like he’s entitled to you both just because he gave you both his name.”

Your throat tightens, emotion rising sharp and unexpected. You glance at Sonny, so small and fragile under the soft hospital light, then back at Lando, whose chest is rising and falling too quickly, who looks like he’s about to break all over again.

“I love you, Lando. Fist-wielding or not. But don’t make a habit of punching him or his ego will be hurt and he’ll press charges. You’re lucky he didn’t.” The feeling of his lips against yours once more is enough to make your whole body melt into his, so appreciative and in awe and love of a man who’s so completely devoted and understanding and mature compared to the marriage that was so… different.

Outside in the corridor, you hear the faint sound of the vending machine clunking, a reminder that Max is only steps away. But for this moment, it’s just you and Lando, standing in the hush of beeping monitors and steady baby breaths, knowing full well this fragile balance can’t last forever.

Baby Blues Taglist 💙

@freyathehuntress @ibetyouthinkaboutmefics @onlydeadcells @strawb3heart @raynetargaryan2 @d3kstar @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @mimisweetz @piston-cup @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @gandalfthegoatsblog @a-library-ofmy-own @lando-505 @okdokeygryssel63 @esw1012 @loveitwhenhelies @chaoswithus @dontsupressthejess @ravyn94 @bowielovesyou @mayax2o07 @remussbitch @wolfbc97 @camillyb @chlmtfilms @enjoythebutterflies11 @emluvsbunnies @ilovechickenwings @hi26loveie @fromsaltandsea @sesamepancakes @ohwhoisyou-rubyjane @v3nd3ttal3on @mel164 @bands-messed-me-up @yourbane @shawnscurlz @destinyg237 @lovelylunas-world @hey-there9-its-me @mel164 @fulla02 @fastandcurious16 @howling-wolf97 @maggiedog98 @czennieszn @raccoonintheforest @sukunassfinger @the-fandom-ness 

[ibetyouthinkaboutmefics]

“Sonny’s got Max’s name, yeah. His blood. That’s true. But you’re the one who drove through a storm to be here. You’re the one he’ll know is here when it counts.”

I think this has to be the best part of the entire series, which is saying something because it’s such a fantastic one. We’ve been seeing this anxiety from him, but hearing her say this to not only reassure him, but to say it with certainty is absolutely everything. There’s so much that went into her saying that and everything that is unsaid with it. Especially after seeing her laying on Max, which honestly he was valid for being nervous about on first glance, but he also knew Sonny was what was important. I truly, absolutely adore them.

Her not being mad at the fight is also everything, these two are meant for each other💕 I’m nervous about Kelly entering the picture at some point though.

Also, I’m not sure if it was written before or after Carlos and Charles having to drive back to Monaco, but despite the poor anxiety he had to feel, in this context it took something that was funny and happy to something completely different.

[harrysfolklore]

can you do a blurb with little bitch ? with oscar dnf and carlos podium !!

a little late but HERE IT IS !!! i've been so busy but i had to write for them. short but hope you like itttt

"P2?" Your voice cracked with excitement. "In a Williams?"

"I still can't believe it." Carlos ran a hand through his hair, still damp from the shower. Even through FaceTime, you could see the mix of shock and joy on his face. "The car felt amazing, but P2? Against Max?"

"I'm so proud of you." You shifted in your airport seat, trying to hide the departure board behind you. "You deserve this."

"Just wish you were here." He flopped onto his hotel bed. "It's not the same without you."

"I know, baby. But tomorrow will be amazing regardless."

"If I can hold position-"

"When," you corrected. "When you hold position."

He smiled softly. "Always so confident in me."

"Always, little bitch," You heard your flight being called. "I should go, need to finish some work."

"At this hour?"

"Important deadline." You blew him a kiss. "Te amo."

"Te amo más, mi vida."

As soon as the call ended, you sprinted for your gate. Six hours to Baku.

You made it to the track just as the formation lap started, heart pounding. The security guard did a double-take at your pass.

"Weren't you in-"

"Surprise visit," you winked, hurrying through.

You made it to the track just as the formation lap started. Security recognized you immediately, waving you through with knowing smiles.

The race was chaos from the start. Your heart stopped when Oscar hit the wall in turn one, only starting again when he radioed he was okay. You were heading towards Williams' garage when he found you.

"What the fuck?" He blinked. "Sister? When did you get here?"

"Just now." You hugged him tight. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just frustrated. But seriously, why-" His eyes widened. "Oh my god, Carlos doesn't know, does he?"

"Nope."

"He's in P3."

"I know."

"Does he know?"

"Nope."

Oscar's face lit up, then suddenly fell. "Oh shit."

"What?"

"Nothing!" He said too quickly.

You narrowed your eyes. "You're being weird."

"I'm concussed."

"No, you're not."

"Could be. Better stick close to make sure."

The race was torturous to watch. Carlos held P3, defending against the other cars lap after lap. Every time they got close, you grabbed Oscar's arm.

"Ow," he complained. "I need that arm."

"Shh!"

When Carlos crossed the line third, the Williams garage exploded. You could hear the cheers from McLaren too.

"Come on," Oscar grabbed your hand. "I know a shortcut to parc fermé."

You waited until Carlos had hugged his team, watched him get congratulated by other drivers. He was walking towards the podium when you stepped out.

"Nice driving, podium boy."

He froze mid-step. Turned slowly.

"Piastri?"

"Surprise?"

The next thing you knew, you were off your feet, wrapped in his arms as he spun you around.

"How- when- what are you-"

You kissed him, tasting the champagne spray from earlier. "Last night. Couldn't miss this."

"But we were on call-"

"At the airport."

"You're crazy." He kissed you again. "Absolutely crazy."

"PODIUM TIME!" Oscar yelled. "MAKE OUT LATER!"

After the ceremony and interviews, you and Carlos found a quiet moment in his drivers' room.

"I still can't believe it." Carlos paced his room, still in his race suit, trophy gleaming on the table. "P3. In a Williams."

"Believe it." You caught his hand, pulling him down next to you. "You were incredible."

He buried his face in your neck. "I can't stop shaking."

"Happy shakes?"

"The happiest." He lifted his head, eyes bright. "Even better now you're here. I can't spend the rest of my life with you, soon you'll-"

The door burst open.

"We had the worst race ever," Lando announced, dragging Oscar behind him. "So we're joining the podium boy's celebrations."

"Don't call me that."

"Podium man?"

"No."

"Podium prince?"

Carlos threw a towel at him.

"Rude." Lando dodged it. "Is that any way to treat your guests?"

"Uninvited guests," Carlos grumbled, but he was smiling.

"Never stopped us before." Oscar sprawled across a chair. "So, dinner? Your treat, Mr. Points?"

"Don't you have your own money?"

"Yes, but we're celebrating you."

You kissed Carlos' cheek. "They have a point. Your podium, your treat."

"Fine." He stood, pulling you up with him. "But I'm choosing the place."

"As long as it has cake," Lando declared.

"It's not my birthday-"

"Every podium needs cake!"

Later, watching Carlos laugh with his friends, trophy catching the restaurant lights, you couldn't stop smiling.

"What?" he asked, catching your eye.

"Nothing." You squeezed his hand. "Just happy for you, little bitch."

"One day you'll stop calling me that."

"Never."

[ibetyouthinkaboutmefics]

The little bitch universe! ✨

[the-spicy-sugar]

Just a Baby Born Blue 💙

Baby Blues Series - Part 23 [part 2]

Ex!Verstappen x Reader x Norris

Masterlist - Baby Blues Masterlist & Playlist

Summary: A trip to the hospital leads to a conversation that nobody was expecting as Max steps in to fill Lando’s shoes in his absence.

Note: Maybe my personal favourite part of the series apart from the SMAU parts? The song contributes to 80% of the vibe here so listen!! Inbox is open for requests or BB chat! :)

wc 4.0k

suggested listen: Blue by Billie Eilish

Your hands shake as you lay him onto the medical bassinet, doctors rushing him deeper into the hospital, clearly worried by one or more of the symptoms you’d stammered out on arrival. You try to keep up, vision blurred by tears, led only by Pierre’s strong hand on your elbow and Kika’s wobbling voice calling out to the doctors, begging them to explain what the fuck is going on, why it’s happening.

Her heels are almost comedic as they clack along the tiles in front of you - but there’s not a single funny thing about the panic in her tone. “He hasn’t fed in hours, he’s been screaming since morning - can someone please just tell us something? Obviously you’ve realised something and it’s only scaring his mum! This is ridiculous!”

The corridor feels endless, lights humming, white walls closing in, everything too bright. For a moment, you remember the clinic, the day Kelly had found out about the pregnancy and tattled to Max before any of you were ready for that stupid can of worms to be opened. You press your hand against your chest as if that might hold the pieces of you together. All you can hear is the echo of Sonny’s cries fading down the hall until even those are swallowed by the heavy doors the doctors push through.

“Wait here.” A nurse with thick shoulders and an absent expression says firmly, holding up a hand like a barrier, like your love isn’t enough of a credential to follow. She looks more like a bouncer than a nurse and it makes Sonny feel even further away. The door slams shut, leaving you staring at your reflection in the tiny square of glass, warped and unrecognizable.

Kika folds you into her arms without asking, your body slumping against her as if you’ve lost control of every muscle. Pierre hovers, pacing tight circles, muttering French curses under his breath before pulling his phone out.

“Who could you possibly be calling right now instead of consoling our friend?” Kika hissed below her breath, your silence telling compared to what was normal. He looks as if he’s been caught for a moment as he holds his phone up as if it’ll explain. “I’m calling Max. She needs someone who isn’t just us. Max has done a lot of shitty things in the last twelve months but he deserves to be here.”

“No.” The word rips from your throat too fast, too sharp. “No, call Lando. I just-“

“Chérie,” Pierre interrupts, softer now but just as steady, “Lando is in London. He can’t get here as quickly as Max would be able to. But Max… I know you’re angry at him. We’ve all taken our turn too, but he’s his father. Max knows the hurt and fear you’re feeling, with Allie…”

He’s silenced by a dark look as you turn to him upon hearing her name. It doesn’t deserve to be spoken in such a tense situation, her memory doesn’t deserve to be defamed in a hospital, while you’re so sad and scared. Kika springs to a gentle defence but you can’t hear it right now. “She died in this fucking hospital, Pierre. So don’t say her name, not now. I can’t remember losing her when my other baby is in a room that I can’t follow him too, crying and screaming because of god knows what!”

Kika brushes your damp hair from your face, her dark eyes searching yours. She pulls you in closer, knowing you won’t like what she’s about to say. “Pierre’s going to call Max.” She tightens her hold on you, her cheek pressed against your temple, whispering soothing nothings in Portuguese in hopes that you’ll soften. The words aren’t received, they’re foreign and unfamiliar but they soothe you the smallest amount, eyes burning with the familiar tears of grief, empty arms becoming heavy although weightless and a heart that aches for a baby that isn’t with you. 

Your lips part but no words come, you can’t bring yourself to agree but you don’t fight either. The silence paired with her gentle command is enough for Pierre to step away, phone pressed to his ear.

Somewhere down the corridor a machine beeps, a child cries, a door swings open then shut. Perhaps other parents are being closed out too. Be angry. Be loud. Demand to know what’s happening, you will yourself, but nothing happens. And you don’t ask any questions. It all blurs into one endless hum of hospital panic, enveloped by your own silence you can’t seem to break. 

She’s a fucking witch and the lilies must’ve been some kind of a curse. 

When the door strikes open only a few minutes later, your stomach flips with a new kind of nervousness. It’s thrown open with such fervour that it batters against the wall behind it, Max strides in, wild-eyed and only in grey sweats and a white top, hair sticking up like he’s just pulled his headset off and dashed to the car without an ounce of care for anything else. He doesn’t even look at Pierre or Kika at first - his eyes lock straight on you, frantic and broken.

“Where is he?” His voice cracks in the middle, low and raw and for the first time in months you see him not as your ex, not as Kelly’s fiance, not as the man who destroyed you with every single little piece of bullshit he spoon-fed you - but as Sonny’s father, terrified out of his skin.

For a second, you can’t answer. Your lips part but the words are lost somewhere in the lump that’s lodged in your throat. The memory of Allie chokes you, Sonny’s tiny cries still echoing in your ears, and Max’s face… desperate, pale, more unguarded than he’d been with you since he’d met Kelly, feels like too much.

“They… they took him through.” Your voice is hoarse and your hand moves to gesture uselessly toward the double doors that swallowed your son. “He wouldn’t feed, he just kept screaming and then… then he wouldn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop screaming Max.”

Max’s chest rises and falls too fast, like he’s been running for miles, though you know it’s fear squeezing the air from him. His hands hover, as though he wants to grab you, hold you, but he doesn’t dare. He settles for slumping down in the seat next to you, his hand running through his messy hair, tugging at the ends in an unvoiced panic. 

Pierre clears his throat, stepping forward. “They’re checking him now. We don’t know what’s going on yet, they told us to stay here.” His words are clipped but even he (Lando’s co-captain of the fuck Max squad) softens as he sees the Dutchman flinch with the news of no news. 

Max drags a hand down his face, fingers trembling. “Jesus Christ.” He swears under his breath, he gets up from where he’s just sat, unable to keep himself still as he paces two short strides before swinging back to you. His eyes are glassy, and when he speaks words that knock the air from your lungs, it’s almost a whisper. “I can’t fucking- I can’t. Not again. Not another one.”

The words tear at you and you want to scream that he doesn’t get to say a single thing about her with that broken tone, not when he replaced her so easily, not when he made her memory feel like a wound instead of love. Not when he left you with the ghost of her. 

But your own grief swallows you whole, leaving only silence.

Kika shifts beside you, her hand pressing firmly between your shoulder blades like she can remind you to breathe. Max notices it and his jaw tightens as if it burns him to see someone else anchoring you, seeing so clearly that it’ll never be his job again, as badly as he wishes it was. It’s not something you consider in the moment, but Max is happy that Lando isn’t there and he can’t help but wonder why he’s absent. 

For a long moment, the four of you just stand in the hum of the waiting room together in silence. A fifth person appears after a while. A doctor, with his clipboard clutched against his chest, eyes scanning the small group before settling on you and Kika, unsure which to address. His voice is calm, practiced but ut doesn’t hide the fact that the news could go either way. 

“Mrs Verstappen? Sonny’s mother?”

Your heart stops before you stand and step forward, Max immediately following suit, his hand slipping into yours like an old habit. 

It’s as if your voice isn’t your own anymore, as if you’re trying to shout beneath the surface of the ocean. Your words bubble and melt in the wrong ways as you give a desperate, “yes”.

“Yes,” you manage, though your voice sounds as if it isn’t your own anymore, as if you’re trying to speak beneath the surface of the ocean, waves lulling you into a gentle rhythm before preparing to suck you down and drown you. 

The doctor nods, his eyes flickering from you to Max, then back again. “Sonny is stable.” He says first - two words that make your knees buckle as your whole body presses to Max’s side, his grasp on your hand tightens until it almost hurts but you let him, because otherwise you might crumble into the tiled floor and remain there until a cleaner sweeps you up on their next rounds.

“He was severely dehydrated. The screaming and refusal to feed were his body’s distress response. We’ve given him fluids intravenously and he’s already perfectly settled. We’re running further tests but at this moment there’s no sign of infection - one of my colleagues did suggest it may be a case of gastroesophageal reflux, though. The less scary name for that is silent reflux, a build up of stomach acid, all natural - don’t worry, may have made his stomach irritated. Feeding can be more painful for babies with GERD.”

There’s a confusion now, about whether this would be permanent or passing, there’s a furrow in Max’s brow and his hand squeezes yours tighter, it’s a possibility, you remind yourself, Sonny doesn’t have this for definite. 

You need to know he’s okay, to press a palm to that tiny ribcage and feel it move. “I want to see him, can I see him?” It’s not logical for you not to ask more about what the doctor is talking about but it fades away, the need for all of the information immediately. He’d mentioned that Sonny had stopped crying and all that matters in the moment is seeing his little chest rising and falling with a calmness that had escaped him in the last few hours. 

“He’s in the paediatric observation bay. He’s on a pump for fluids, a small cannula in his hand, and we’ve given the first dose of an infant paracetamol. He’s drowsy but settling. You can go in now. Only the parents I’m afraid.” He offers a glance to Kika and Pierre, who’d been temporarily invisible to the scared parents. Pierre steps forward and presses his lips to your forehead, squeezing a shoulder before stepping back, Kika’s thin arms enveloping you once more in relief before pressing you away and towards the double doors while you and Max cling to each other still. 

“Go, I’ll bring you some spare clothes and some pyjamas for Sonny. Give him a kiss from me, tell him auntie Kika loves him.”

You nod and then to head through the doors, realising wordlessly that it’s the first time max is meeting his week old son. 

The doors swing shut behind you with a heavy click, sealing the three of you off from Pierre’s pacing and Kika’s whispered prayers. The ward is quieter than the waiting room, the air cooler and the lighter softer, the only sound the low hum of machines and the steady drip from an IV pump. The visiting hours are over so some parents sit by tiny bedsides, looking over their little ones, someone snores down the hall. 

The nurse smiles and gestures to an open doorway with ‘Sonny Alain Verstappen’ on the door, Max falters. And there he is.

Sonny, impossibly little even in the hospitals plastic crib, his little hand wrapped in tape to hold the cannula steady with his IV drip plugged into it. His cheeks are red and blotchy from hours of crying but his wet lashes rest finally against his skin, dark crescents on pale flesh. His tiny chest rises and falls in a rhythm so delicate you could mistake him for a little doll, so peaceful. For a moment, so like his big sister despite being so entirely different. 

Your hand flies to your mouth as a sob breaks free, knees threatening to buckle again. You stagger closer, drawn to him, desperate to touch, to make sure he’s real and warm and breathing. To make sure that he isn’t her. That it isn’t a cruel joke played by a cruel doctor. 

Beside you, Max stills completely. His hands, so often restless, hang uselessly at his sides. His lips part, breath catching as if the sight of his son has knocked the air out of him. He takes a slow step forward and lets out a shaky laugh, his eyes brimming with tears as he looks at the little baby. The real shock, is the nasal cannula, it makes him look far sicker than you could’ve even considered when all that was wrong was him crying. 

“Jesus Christ…” His voice fractures, not much louder than the whisper of the pumping air. His hand hovers above Sonny’s head before retreating. “He’s so… he’s so small.” He changes his mind before stroking a soft thumb over sonny’s fluffy head of hair. 

Unused words make your throat ache as you listen to the soft snuffling of the baby. “Bigger than his sister.”

Max’s eyes flicker to you, wide and broken, then back to the baby, drinking him in like a man starved. He lowers himself into the chair by the bassinet, leaning in, close enough to feel the warmth of his son’s breath. One shaking finger finally dares to stroke along Sonny’s soft cheek.

“Hello,” he murmurs, his accent thicker than normal with emotion, far more formal than you’d expected his first words to be. “I’m your dad. I know you’ve had Lando the last few days… I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner.” His voice cracks and he presses his lips together hard, fighting to keep control.

It makes your heart ache - your little boy had been so distressed only hours ago, and now he looked impossibly peaceful, even with the wires and tubes that muddied the illusion.

Max’s gaze finally shifts from Sonny to you, his eyes wet but certain. He doesn’t dare speak her name again, not now, not when Sonny’s chest is rising steadily in front of him. Instead, he lowers his voice and touches your elbow from across the crib. “He looks like you.”

You shake your head, wiping at your face with the heel of your palm, knowing he was surely only saying it only to be polite. “No. He looks like you. The mouth, the nose. He’s you, Max. Only smaller.”

His lips twitch into something that wants to be a smile but doesn’t quite make it. He leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees, head hanging low for a moment as though the weight of everything has finally landed on him all at once.

“It’s hard to look at him sometimes. And I know that makes me a really fucking shitty mum. Sometimes I look at him and he blinks up at me and it’s just you. Other times he blinks up at me and it’s just her. I mean, god… I love them him as much as I loved her and the other way around. And I still love you. More than I wish I did.”

His elbows pressed to his knees and his head fell into his hands as he heard that, silent and unapologetic. There’s a moment before he begins to cry in which you wish you hadn’t said anything, assuming that maybe he wishes you’d shut up, maybe he’s judging you, thinking the baby would be better with him and Kelly before you kill another one. 

It comes all at once, not a rough sob so much as a desperate sort of weeping. He cries into his hands, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes to try and stop the hurt that plagues him so entirely these days despite having a houseful of girls that loved him, as a boyfriend and as a dad. 

The regret bites him, the hatred for himself over all that’s happened in the last few years but mostly how he’s allowed the woman in his bed to treat you. “I’m so sorry schatje. I’m so sorry. I’m so, fuck, I’m so fucking sorry.”

A gruff laugh of bitter hurt comes from him as he drags his fingers down his face from his eyes, cheeks red and splotchy like Sonny’s had been, skin going white beneath his pressing touch as he sobs out. 

You reach across the tiny crib, your fingertips brushing Max’s sleeve before you can second-guess yourself. He only cries harder, though not any louder, not wanting to wake the sleeping baby, crumbling for your touch like a man desperate for whatever he can get. 

The chair next to him is empty and you move around, opting to sit at his side, your shoulder brushing his as you ease his trembling hands out of his hair. They’re damp with tears, knuckles pale from pressure and you hold them in both of yours, squeezing hard enough to anchor him.

“Max.” You whisper his name, steadier than you feel. “Stop. Just… God, stop hating yourself for a minute.“

His chest shudders with another broken breath, and he shakes his head, lips parted like he wants to argue but can’t find the words. His eyes dart back to Sonny, to the steady rise and fall of his chest. The cannula taped to his tiny hand makes him flinch again but you squeeze his fingers until he looks at you.

“I’m not saying I forgive you. I don’t. Not for Kelly, not for what you put me through, not for how you let her treat me like I was dirt on her shoes. That doesn’t just vanish because we’re sitting here together.” Your throat burns with raising bile as if you’re about to be sick at the thought of the conversation you’re having, of practically absolving him, but you push through, your voice soft but firm. 

“I don’t hate you, Max. So don’t hate yourself.” A shaky sigh falls from your pouting lips as you look over him, still so handsome even in his hurt and anger, his lips pursed but still full. A long time ago you might’ve reached forward to brush that frowny expression away. Kissed him, perhaps. 

“And I understand why it happened. As much as it hurts - the cheating, I mean. But I don’t want to get into it now, not when our baby needs us to be strong and together. Just know that I don’t hold it against you, for his sake, as much as I wish I could. So let yourself off the hook.” 

Max’s jaw works, his lips pressed tight, but his hand flips in yours so his palm can cradle yours back. The gesture is raw, almost childlike. He bows his head until his forehead nearly touches your entwined fingers, close enough that his damp breath warms your skin.

“I don’t know how to be what he needs…” He admits, voice cracked and broken like a mess of shattered glass. “I can’t even keep it together with Lily. Kelly does everything, and I’m… just… please.” His voice goes again, frustration and shame mixing with a need to be heard. “I already feel like I’m failing everyone I even look at. I’ve been spiralling since the moment I met her. I can’t fail him too. I can’t. You can’t let me.”

Just looking at Sonny provides a comfort as you let your hand rub reassuring circles on Max’s back, knowing he needs it as he looks at you as if worshipping, praying to his God, she really is a woman. “Do you want me to just hear your words or give you advice?”

He nods and sniffles, brushing his tears away with the space at the back of his thumb where it meets his wrist. His words are decisive and low, his gaze needy. “Advice, schatje. Please.”

“Don’t run from us or hide behind Kelly and so help me… don’t let her dictate how you love your kids. Don’t let him be the forgotten one.” All he can manage is a small nod, bringing you in for a moment to press a wet kiss to your temple before letting his hand settle into your shoulder, though it doesn’t last long. 

Sonny lets out a soft murmur in the crib, letting out a quiet noise as he begins to stir and wake. You freeze for a moment before peering over the plastic rim of his makeshift bed for the next couple of hours, watching as his big blue eyes blink up into the room, shifting around without much focus like a typical week-old baby. 

Sonny’s soft whimper grows just enough to tug both of your hearts in the same direction. Max stiffens, eyes darting to the tangle of tape and tubing around the tiny body, then to you, a question without words. 

“Do you want to hold him, Maxie?”

Max’s hands hover in mid air for a moment like they had before, trembling like they don’t belong to him. He blinks away the confusion before nodding. You guide him easily, sliding one palm beneath Sonny’s head and shoulders, the other cradling his bottom. The baby stirs, a soft, almost questioning squeak leaving him as his father lifts him slowly for the first time, every movement reverent, terrified of doing it wrong despite his most recent interaction with another small child being a few hours ago, her timeline only accelerated by a few months. 

His breath hitches as he looked down, Sonny is impossibly small in his large arms, swallowed by the folds of the hospital blanket and the little hat he wears. Max tucks him closer to his chest, one large hand splayed protectively across his back, careful to keep the IV line slack and untangled as he sways instinctively, like muscle memory he didn’t know he had, it’s not something he’s ever done with Lily, they hadn’t bonded much yet and holding his first son makes him realise that. Sonny quiets, those big, cloudy newborn eyes looking up at the unfamiliar face. Max lets out something between a laugh and a sob, pressing his lips to Sonny’s forehead.

You move closer, brushing your hand over the tubing to make sure it isn’t tugged, your fingertips ghosting over Max’s forearm. His eyes flick to you, entirely overwhelmed by the love he feels, it’s as though sharing this moment with you feels like both punishment and salvation.

“He fits you.” You say softly, unable to help yourself as your eyes meet his hesitantly. “It’s nice to see you being a dad.”

There’s a gentleness in the touch as you let your hand rest lightly on Sonny’s blanket, just over Max’s arm - and for a moment the three of you are tethered together, a fragile circle of grief and relief and love despite everything. 

Baby Blues Taglist 💙

@freyathehuntress @ibetyouthinkaboutmefics @onlydeadcells @strawb3heart @raynetargaryan2 @d3kstar @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @mimisweetz @piston-cup @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @gandalfthegoatsblog @a-library-ofmy-own @lando-505 @okdokeygryssel63 @esw1012 @loveitwhenhelies @chaoswithus @dontsupressthejess @ravyn94 @bowielovesyou @mayax2o07 @remussbitch @wolfbc97 @camillyb @chlmtfilms @enjoythebutterflies11 @emluvsbunnies @ilovechickenwings @hi26loveie @fromsaltandsea @sesamepancakes @ohwhoisyou-rubyjane @v3nd3ttal3on @mel164 @bands-messed-me-up @yourbane @shawnscurlz @destinyg237 @lovelylunas-world @hey-there9-its-me @mel164 @fulla02 @fastandcurious16 @howling-wolf97 @maggiedog98 @czennieszn @raccoonintheforest @sukunassfinger @the-fandom-ness 

[ibetyouthinkaboutmefics]

I’m still a Max hater, but I enjoyed him for once, lol. It was really sweet seeing the three of them together and see what that potential dynamic will be going forward. Obviously, things are different because they’re in the hospital and his health is what matters, but it’s going to be interesting. Especially with him saying she and Sonny have Lando. Which hell we love him with his baby and our girl 🥰 I’m also so happy that Sonny’s ok, I already knew but still ✨

No but this is genuinely, one of the few times I haven’t wanted to throw my phone across the room when Max is there. I think he took on a really good role of just simply being there. Kept her from falling apart completely, and got to meet his son after a week, which…seriously? I still can’t get over that. It was sweet though, it’s interesting his comment about Kelly doing everything and not bonding with the baby. I’m still thinking is it his….👀🤷‍♀️ either way, it did make me think of Allie and that dynamic. I’m not sure exactly how to word it.

I also love that she said that she doesn’t hate him but she doesn’t forgive everything he did and allowed. Didn’t love that she wants him to let himself off the hook, but honestly I’m proud of how far she’s come throughout the series.

Great chapter! I hope things with Lando are going to be chill, I think he’ll be chill because he has to be, but going forward is going to be interesting.

[the-spicy-sugar]

A Floral War 🌷

Baby Blues Series - Part 23 [part 1]

Ex!Verstappen x Reader x Norris

Masterlist - Baby Blues Masterlist & Playlist

Summary: The world seems to come crashing down with the realisation that something just isn’t right, though nobody could predict what.

Note: I’m trying to get back on a roll with the series my loves, as well as working on other projects, I have so many angsty ideas rn but I’ve been ill with covid and super delayed - forgive me! Part 23 is going to come in 3 parts over the next week or so, expect faster updates now ❤️

wc 2.7k

suggested listen: Take Me Home by Jess Glynne

From the moment the day had started, there was a bad omen. The energy in the house was stiff and uncompromising, there was something that just wasn’t right, something that was off.

The flowers arrived just after eight o’clock, far too early for anyone to be ringing your buzzer. You shuffled to the door with Sonny tucked against your chest, chest aching with the need to express milk or feed the sleeping baby yet again, ankles swollen and sore post-birth, bleary-eyed from a night of truly broken sleep. A courier stood there, thrusting a bouquet at you with a polite smile before disappearing back down the hallway. 

Lilies. Big, waxy, beautiful lilies. You stare at them as if they might bite, their fragrance heavy and suffocating. They hadn’t been chosen at random - clearly sent because of their own baby’s name, a reminder you didn’t ever need, that Max had ruined it all. It’s deliberate, cruel, the kind of message that doesn’t need many words to make its point.

Your hand shakes as you tug the card from its plastic sheath. To being a first time mom, from Kelly & Max.

Kelly’s name comes first, her handwriting curling like a smirk across the paper. It’s her doing and you can’t help but scoff softly, hating how fucking conniving and clever she’s always been, since the first moment you’d seen her name written down in that Instagram handle where the pregnancy was announced, always a step ahead - waiting to hurt. 

It cuts deep because it rewrites you, erases you. As if Allie never existed. As if you weren’t already a mother, grieving the daughter you never got to raise. And worse, you know this is retaliation. Payback for the tulips you sent them, your wedding flower, a jab meant for Max. Lando comes out of the bedroom and presses a soft kiss to your neck, nose bumping your jaw as he slips a hand around your stomach from behind, leaning down to kiss Sonny’s head. “Pretty flowers.”

“They’re lilies.” He’s not the sharpest tool, he’d say the same himself, but he knows instantly, a look of surprise and disappointment flash across his face and he takes the card, not quite believing what he knows must be true. 

“Look cheap.” He corrects himself with a quiet scoff though both of you know it’s not true, they look expensive and beautiful and they smell so fresh. They’re perfect. “I’ll bin them, yeah? We’ve got plenty flowers. I’ll buy you new ones.” He offered, already taking them towards the bin, shoving them deep down into the plastic bag with a knowing frown on his face. He thought about the tulips and then his fist meeting Max’s face, either could’ve caused this, though you only knew about one of those happenings. 

It feels so deliberate. As if they’re watching you, waiting for you to stumble so they can point and say they were right all along, that you weren’t ever really meant to be a mum, that you should’ve stopped trying after the first time. 

You stand in the kitchen with Sonny pressed close, his little head warm against your collarbone as you rock slowly side to side, staring down at the card until the words blur. Rage crawls under your skin, an old ache twisting into something sharp until Lando takes the card, holding it over a vanilla candle until flames lick up the inky words, curling the edges and turning them angry and black, as ugly as the words written. 

He sets the burning card in the sink and opens his arms wordlessly, bringing you and Sonny in close, both of you watching the smouldering pile beginning to extinguish itself. 

Lando’s arms stay around you for as long as you’ll let him, chin resting against your temple, the three of you huddled together as the last curl of smoke dies in the sink. His breath is warm against your hair when he murmurs, “You know none of it means anything, right? It’s just them. It’s her. She’s twisted.”

You nod, but it doesn’t land. Not when the air still smells faintly of lilies or when the note still burns across your eyelids every time you blink.

By the time you realize how long you’ve been standing there, his phone alarm is buzzing from the counter. A reminder that his car would be arriving any moment to take him to the airport.

“Fuck sake.” He whispers with a slow sigh, his forehead pressing against yours as though he can will the clock to stop and give you both a few more minutes. “I don’t wanna leave either of you yet, are you sure you’ll be okay?” His hands squeeze your hips like he’s memorizing the shape of them. “What’s the worst that happens if I don’t go, the whole shoot collapses? Shit… It’s not just me, y’know, there’s a whole team counting on this, say the word and I’ll stay.”

It’s clear he’s being serious but you swallow the lump in your throat, rocking Sonny gently between you. “I’ll be fine. Lily’s coming this morning, Kika tonight. You’ve already set us up, I’ve got a frozen lasagne there from Rebecca, I mean, I’ve got it made here, babe.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t hate it.” He says, voice thick, clearly emotional. He bends to kiss Sonny’s soft head, lingering there, whispering so low you almost miss it. “Bye bye, little man. Look after mummy for me while I’m gone, yeah? You’re the man of the house now, big strong boy... daddy loves you, loves you both.”

Your chest aches as you watch him tuck Sonny’s tiny hand into his palm for a second like he’s trying to graft the memory into his skin. Then he’s pressing a desperate kiss to your lips, hands framing your face as though he’s worried you’ll break in the 48 hours he’s gone.

The door closes too loudly behind him. The home suddenly feeling too big and too quiet except for Sonny’s soft fussing, snuffling softly in his sleep like he’s having a dream. And still, maybe because of the flowers, maybe not, something felt wrong. 

“Just now until Auntie Lily and uncle Alex turn up, huh baby? What shall we do first? Maybe mummy can try to shower, maybe we can try having a little nap…” You murmured softly, more to yourself than the sleeping baby, knowing you’d have to occupy the next chunk of time before anyone arrives. 

And though you know Lily will be here soon, and Kika later, you can’t stop the way your mind drifts back to the lilies, to Kelly’s handwriting and the feeling that something in the universe has shifted against you. A bad omen, a seed planted before the day had even begun.

The anxiety manifests in the weirdest way though nothing seems to be amiss. 

The door knocks and then opens without waiting for any answer. “Your second favourite best friend is here! And I’ve brought Lily!” Alex jokes, calling from the hallway as the couple come in, both with wide smiles and waving hello, excited to meet the newest member of their little Monaco family. 

You can’t help but crack a smile, worries fading with Alex’s joke as you move to meet them, Lily melting to practically a puddle as she holds her hand to her mouth with a quiet gasp. “Oh, honey, he’s perfect.” She crowds in as Alex peers over her shoulder with his usual bright smile. 

“He’s been waiting to meet his Auntie Lily.” You offer, shifting Sonny carefully from your shoulder to your arm so she can get a closer look.

Alex grins, fingers reaching out to pull Lily’s hand away from cupping sonny’s cheek so that he can see the little boy properly for a moment. “Aw, wow, he’s so tiny! Like… even tinier than I thought. Lando must be losing his mind over him.”

“He is, he didn’t wanna go this morning but I’ve managed to convince him that between this little man’s aunties and uncles… we’ll be all good.” Lily doesn’t look sold on the idea that everything will be okay despite your promises, a small scold settling over her shiny lips as she crosses an arm over her chest before turning her attention back to Sonny with a gentle exhale. “You don’t need to pre-“

You immediately cut her off and shake your head, Sonny beginning to wake up in a whining cry now as you reaffirm that it’s okay. “You’re overestimating how helpful that muppet is when he’s here. He’s good at washing bottles and does the nappy changes but that’s about it.”

Alex plops himself down on the sofa, glancing at Sonny with a kind of awe as you slowly bundle him over to Lily’s arms despite the way he was beginning to cry, her being insistent that she could calm him, she’s practically a pro. “Crazy though. We were saying on the way over… can you believe Max still hasn’t even come to see him?” He shakes his head, disbelief etched on his face. “Like, whatever’s gone on between you two, this is his kid. His blood. And he’s just - what? Posting with Kelly instead?”

The words land like stones in your stomach, heavier than you expect. You stare at Sonny’s downy head as Lily jostles him lightly, your thumb brushing the curve of his cheek. 

“His loss babygirl.” Lily says firmly, cutting across before the silence can thicken, reassuring you before beginning to coo softly. “You don’t need him. Sonny doesn’t need him. He has you. And he has all of us. And we love him so much, don’t we Uncle Alex? Cause look at him, look at you, little Sonny, you’re such a precious little man, aren’t you?”

It’s a shame the rest of the night didn’t go so easily. 

When Lily and Alex finally gather themselves to leave, it’s almost reluctant, both hovering in the doorway as though one more minute might change the weight of the air around you. Alex gives a one-armed hug, his other hand still balancing a plate of pastries someone had gifted you and Lando after sonny’s birth, knowing you’d not eat much breakfast but the carbs weren’t what either of you wanted - he swears he’ll eat them all tomorrow for breakfast. Lily presses a kiss to your cheek, whispering something about texting her if you need her, if he doesn’t settle, if you feel even slightly off. Anything in the world, she’s not even two minutes away. 

And then the door clicks shut, the flat suddenly too quiet, the walls swallowing the sharp edge of Sonny’s cries. 

Kika arrives not long after, breezing in with her hair piled up, a soft cardigan draped over her shoulders, the kind of ease that should make you feel calmer but doesn’t. Sonny is already wailing in your arms, red-faced, his fists balled tight against his cheeks as if he’s at war with the world.

“Oh, my love.” Kika’s voice drops instantly, gentle and steady, her bag falling to the floor as she comes straight over to you, though it isn’t clear whether she’s talking to you or Sonny when she talks initially. “How long has he been like this?”

“Since… honestly? Maybe this morning, he woke up not long after Lily and Alex got here and he’s been… fucking on one, really.” Your voice cracks with the admission, shame sitting sour in your throat at the realisation that you should’ve noticed how off the cries were sooner than six in the evening. “He didn’t feed well last night, not much this morning either. He’ll latch and then scream like it hurts or like he doesn’t want it.”

She doesn’t waste time with placating your worries, just nodding as she takes him from you with practiced arms from the number of cousins she has despite her young age, swaying as though her body is made for it. He only screams louder at the transfer, the sound splitting you down the middle. You press your hands against your face, dragging them down slowly, trying not to sob along with him.

“Babes,” she murmurs, glancing at you over his squirming little body, “this isn’t your fault, okay? Sometimes they just have off days. Sometimes they just have a bit of a scream.”

“But it’s different. It’s just… it’s not right. He sounds like something’s really wrong. And I know it’s not wind and it can’t be his nappy because god knows I’ve checked about ten times…” Your head shakes and there’s a shaky sigh that comes without meaning to, stomach twisting in a way that feels too familiar. “It’s not just crying. It’s like - like something’s wrong. Properly, Keeks. He barely slept, he’s just not eaten much and now it’s been hours.”

The panic makes your chest tight, your breath shallow. The lilies flicker in your mind, Kelly’s curling handwriting, the bad omen of the day.

Kika lowers herself carefully onto the sofa, Sonny still thrashing in her arms, her expression unreadable as she rocks him. “Okay. Then we’ll figure it out. You and me. We’ll try again, one more feed, and if it doesn’t work, we’ll call the doctor, yeah? You don’t have to do this alone.”

You nod, but it feels fragile, like your head might snap clean off your neck. Sitting beside her, you touch Sonny’s sweat-damp hair, his furious little body, and whisper an apology he can’t possibly understand.

Kika leans her head into your shoulder, grounding you as Sonny’s cries rattle the room, bundling the baby back over to his mummy to give feeding one last go before there’s any real cause to panic. “I used to think I’d give anything for this sort of feeling. Even the dread and the panic and the worry, with Allie… you know? I’d have taken anything.”

You adjust your hold on Sonny, his little body trembling against you as his cries pierce through the quiet of the apartment. The sound isn’t just loud - it’s frantic and at this point, fucking desperate. You’ve read about different cries, how mothers are supposed to instinctively know the difference but in this moment you don’t feel like a mother at all and it makes the note from the Lilies hurt even more deeply. 

You feel like you’re failing him, the second chance slipping away. 

He latches for a heartbeat - hope sparks, then he pulls away with a scream that makes your stomach lurch. It’s like he’s telling you, no, no, no.

A tear splashes on his red cheek and Kika leans in to wipe it away, the ringing tone low on her phone as she holds it to her ear, already speaking in a hushed tone but the words fade away in the realisation that this is a big deal, it feels like a big deal. 

The lilies burn your lungs at the distracted thought of them, their perfume cloying even though the bouquet lies buried deep in the kitchen bin. A curse wrapped in ribbon, a warning disguised as a gift. 

Kika’s hand comes to rest on your thigh, grounding. “Trust yourself.” She murmurs, not looking away from Sonny’s blotchy, furious face. “If you think something’s wrong, then we go. No shame in being sure. Pierre’s on his way so he can give us over to the hospital, if that’s the call you’re gonna make. We’ll stay with you. I’m here, I love you.”

A decision hardens in your chest. Hospital. Not later, not after another failed feed - now. Shoes are dragged on with one hand while the other cradles your son, his body writhing against you. The pram sits folded by the door, but there’s no time for straps and fuss, the car seat will have to do.

Kika scoops up the nappy bag, shoving bottles and wipes inside without caring for order the moment you give the nod, making the decision. Her voice stays calm and practical and it’s everything you need in the moment to keep you moving, though her pace gives her away. “Text Lando on the way, let him know. I’ll call the hospital, let them expect you.”

Hallway lights blur as you step out, Sonny’s screams echoing against the walls as the car seat rocks in a way you’re hoping will soothe though realistically, does not a lot. Neighbours will hear but none of it matters now. The only thing that matters is the way his tiny fists clench as though he’s fighting for something unseen and the sinking certainty that you can’t afford to wait and see if he grows tired of crying.

Baby Blues Taglist 💙

@freyathehuntress @ibetyouthinkaboutmefics @onlydeadcells @strawb3heart @raynetargaryan2 @d3kstar @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @mimisweetz @piston-cup @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @gandalfthegoatsblog @a-library-ofmy-own @lando-505 @okdokeygryssel63 @esw1012 @loveitwhenhelies @chaoswithus @dontsupressthejess @ravyn94 @bowielovesyou @mayax2o07 @remussbitch @wolfbc97 @camillyb @chlmtfilms @enjoythebutterflies11 @emluvsbunnies @ilovechickenwings @hi26loveie @fromsaltandsea @sesamepancakes @ohwhoisyou-rubyjane @v3nd3ttal3on @mel164 @bands-messed-me-up @yourbane @shawnscurlz @destinyg237 @lovelylunas-world @hey-there9-its-me @mel164 @fulla02 @fastandcurious16 @howling-wolf97 @maggiedog98 @czennieszn @raccoonintheforest @sukunassfinger @the-fandom-ness 

[ibetyouthinkaboutmefics]

The way I was on this app when it dropped and Tumblr didn’t tell me until 20 hours later 😭 I hope you feel better! I’m so excited to have more baby blues ✨ hopefully after this chapter we’ll get some cute, Lando, Sonny, and our girl moments of them being happy.

The note on the card is absolutely abhorrent and made my stomach drop. I genuinely cannot express how disgusting that is, like what happened with Allie, her daughter, just absolutely disgusting. Sending the flowers is one thing but the note completely gets rid of any positive and kindness towards them. Just gone. There is not a world in which she should associate with them. The tulips is one thing but this is another. God do I hate Max. Like I genuinely don’t see a redemption arc and to be completely honest, I don’t think he deserves one.

Not gonna lie, at first I thought maybe he might be allergic to the flowers but knowing it’s been going on for a bit, and that they have flowers at their place, it definitely can’t be that. Her and Sonny are going through it still, but they’re so loved and surrounded by a good support system. So that’s reassuring and really good.

The way Lando loves Sonny is absolutely everything to me, because that’s his son 🥺 He loves him and our girl so damn much. It’s funny to think I used to be against Lando, and now the three of them are everything to me😭 Like I was a team Daniel girl 🙈 that’s insane to think of. It was funny when she said that they’re giving Lando too much credit, lol. She was like, yeah he’s helpful but don’t get crazy now.

I’m absolutely terrified that he’s going to need something and they’ll have to call Max or something 🙄 but we can only pray it’s not, and that Sonny will get better soon. I’m definitely afraid for what’s coming since there’s two more parts to this chapter 😬

* I feel like if Max comes into the fold, because somehow it needs to be the closest match, idk how it works I saw something like that on a show before — but that that somehow we’ll find out the Kelly cheated.I also just want revenge and for him to be sad 🙈