OH MY GOD!!! This Was Aooo Good... I Looovvveeedd It💜💜

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The pretty interviewer

Max Verstappen x reader

Summary: You are Max's favorite interviewer...so much that he will not stop flirting with you.

Warning: None

Three Races Earlier...

You stand off to the side of the paddock, fidgeting with your Sky Sports F1 microphone. Being the newest member of the broadcasting team means you usually get the less prominent interviews, while the veteran reporters get drivers like Max Verstappen. Today, you're supposed to be interviewing one of the midfield teams.

The buzz in the paddock suddenly intensifies as Max emerges from the Red Bull garage after his stunning pole position. A swarm of reporters immediately crowds his path, microphones thrust forward, voices overlapping with "Max! Max, a moment, please!"

You watch from your quiet corner as he walks past them all, his expression neutral, barely acknowledging their presence. It's a familiar scene – Max is known for being selective with media, often choosing to speak only with a handful of senior reporters.

That's why your heart nearly stops when his eyes suddenly lock onto you. His face transforms with a smile, and before you can process what's happening, he's changing direction, walking purposefully toward your corner.

"Sorry," he says to the shocked reporters behind him, not sounding sorry at all. "I'm giving my first interview to her."

Your producer's voice crackles in your earpiece: "Wait, what's happening?"

Max stops right in front of you, that signature half-smile playing on his lips. "Hi," he says simply, as if he hasn't just snubbed every major broadcaster in the paddock.

"I... um..." You scramble to gather your thoughts, acutely aware of the jealous stares from the other reporters. "Hi?"

He laughs softly at your confusion. "You're new, right? I've seen you around. You ask good questions – technical ones. Not just the usual PR stuff."

"I... yes, I started this weekend," you manage to say, still stunned. "But shouldn't you be talking to—"

"I'm talking to exactly who I want to be talking to," he interrupts, his Dutch accent somehow stronger when speaking quietly. "So, would you like to hear about that qualifying lap?"

𐙚

That first interview changed everything. Since then, Max has insisted on giving you his post-session interviews, each one becoming progressively more flirtatious than the last. Which brings you to today...

The Red Bull garage looms ahead as you adjust your Sky Sports F1 microphone for the thousandth time. Post-qualifying interviews are routine by now, but nothing about interviewing Max Verstappen has ever felt routine. Especially not since he started doing... whatever this is.

"Three minutes," your producer says through your earpiece. You try to focus on your questions, but all you can think about is last week's interview, when Max had deliberately held your gaze so long you'd forgotten the second half of your question.

He emerges from the garage, race suit tied at his waist as usual. Your heart does that familiar stutter-step as he approaches, wearing that infuriating half-smile that makes you forget basic English.

"Max, congratulations on another pole position—" you begin professionally.

"Thanks," he interrupts, eyes twinkling. "I was hoping it would be you interviewing me today."

You feel the heat creep up your neck. Stay professional, you remind yourself. "That last lap was incredible. How did you find the grip through—"

"The grip was good," he says, then leans slightly closer than necessary. "But you seem a bit nervous today. Everything okay?"

Your producer snickers in your ear. Traitor.

"I'm perfectly fine," you manage, though your voice comes out higher than intended. "About turn three—"

"You're cute when you're flustered," he says quietly, just low enough that the microphone won't pick it up. The smirk playing on his lips tells you he knows exactly what he's doing.

You nearly drop your notebook. "I'm trying to conduct an interview here," you whisper back, fighting a smile.

"And I'm trying to ask you out," he counters smoothly, before raising his voice back to interview level. "But yes, turn three was tricky today. The crosswind made it challenging."

Your face feels like it's on fire. You're painfully aware of the camera rolling, capturing what must be the most unprofessional blush in F1 broadcasting history.

"Speaking of challenges," Max continues, clearly enjoying himself, "there's this great restaurant in Monaco that's almost impossible to get into. I have a reservation for two tomorrow night... if you're interested in discussing race strategy, of course."

You hear your producer choking back laughter. "The interview, Max," you remind him, trying to sound stern despite your racing heart.

"Right, right. The interview." He grins. "But about dinner..."

"Maybe we should finish talking about your qualifying lap first?" You're fighting a losing battle against your smile now.

"Fine," he sighs dramatically, then winks. "But just so you know, I'm going to keep flirting with you until you say yes."

Your producer is practically cackling now. "Best. Interview. Ever," she whispers in your ear.

"The qualifying lap, Max," you insist, but you're grinning too.

"The qualifying lap," he agrees, finally straightening up and attempting to look serious. "But I should warn you – I'm very persistent. Almost as persistent as I am on track."

You shake your head, trying to remember your questions through the butterfly storm in your stomach. One thing's for certain – this interview is definitely going to go viral on F1 Twitter.

And maybe, just maybe, you'll say yes to that dinner in Monaco.

𐙚

You barely remember how you finished that interview, your mind still spinning from Max's dinner invitation. But the real chaos was only beginning...

Your notifications haven't stopped buzzing since that interview went live. #MaxAndTheReporter is trending on Twitter, and F1 TikTok is having a field day with edited clips of every interaction between you and Max from the past three races.

"OMG THE WAY HE LOOKS AT HER " reads one viral tweet, accompanied by a slow-motion clip of Max's eyes softening when he spots you in the paddock.

"Remember when Max used to HATE interviews? Now he's literally running to them. #MaxAndTheReporter" says another, with a side-by-side comparison of his usual stern media demeanor and his smile when approaching you.

Your producer sends you a link to a fan-made compilation video: "Every time Max Verstappen has flirted with the Sky Sports reporter (so far)." It has 2 million views already.

Not everyone's convinced, though. "She's just another reporter," one skeptic tweets. "Max is probably just being nice."

That theory gets blown out of the water during the next race weekend. You're in the middle of interviewing Carlos Sainz when Max casually walks by, then does such an obvious double-take that Carlos starts laughing mid-answer.

"I think someone wants to interrupt this interview," Carlos teases, watching Max hover nearby with poorly concealed impatience.

"He can wait his turn," you say professionally, though your cheeks warm as you hear Max chuckle behind you.

"Can I?" Max calls out. "Because I'm pretty sure my dinner reservation is in an hour, and someone still hasn't given me an answer."

Carlos raises his eyebrows, grinning. "Ah, so the rumors are true?"

Your producer's voice crackles through your earpiece: "The socials are going absolutely crazy right now. This is better than Drive to Survive!"

Later that evening, a photo surfaces of you and Max at that impossible-to-get-into restaurant in Monaco. He's looking at you instead of the camera, that soft smile on his face that F1 Twitter has dubbed the "reporter smile." The fan theories explode:

"HE REALLY TOOK HER TO DINNER, I'M SCREAMING" "The way he only smiles like that for her." "Remember when we thought Max would never date someone in the F1 media? This man really said 'Watch me."

Your phone buzzes with a text from Max: "Have you seen we're trending again? "

You send back an eye-rolling emoji, trying to ignore the butterflies that haven't settled since that first interview.

"Good," he replies. "Maybe now everyone knows why I only want interviews with you."

Your producer sends you a message: "Just wait until they see tomorrow's pre-race interview. The internet might actually break."

You smile, thinking about how a simple paddock interview three races ago changed everything. From reluctant interviewee to... whatever this is becoming, Max Verstappen has definitely kept his promise about being persistent.

And honestly? You wouldn't have it any other way.

BIRTH OF TWINS

DadLando Norris X Mom!fem!reader

Summary: To which Y/n goes into premature labor for the birth of the twins, however, Lando is at the airport returning home and fears that he will not make it in time.

Words: 5.9K+

Warnings: Mention of childbirth, complications of childbirth, twins, pain (??), a little distressing, cute, romantic and happy.

Author: English is not my first language, so apologies for any spelling, grammar and slang mistakes that may be in the story. This is part of a small universe, but can be read separately. ❤️🇧🇷

Universe Of NORRIS TWINS

MASTERLIST

There were still three weeks until the twins' expected delivery date, but Y/n had already been feeling light, training contractions for a few days. However, he didn't tell anyone, not even Lando, that he was about to catch a flight to a race and would be gone for four days.

"Are you sure you want me to go?" Lando asked, taking her hands in his.

"I do. I'll be fine. My mom and Cisca will stay with me." She smiled, trying to convey confidence.

Lando sighed and nodded, leaving a lingering kiss on her forehead before leaving.

Days passed and that morning, Y/n woke up feeling strange. The contractions seemed to be stronger, but they were still spaced out for hours. She decided to ignore it and went about her day as normal while Christy, her mother, and Cisca were at home helping her.

As the day went on, Y/n began to notice that the contractions were becoming more frequent and painful. A discomfort in her lower belly began to appear, and for the first time, she wondered if labor was starting. Still, I didn't want to alarm anyone.

As they talked in the living room, Y/n suddenly grimaced, holding her belly and leaning on the arm of the couch as a stronger contraction came.

"Y/n?" Christy called, worried.

She took a deep breath before looking up at her mother and Cisca.

"I think... I'm in labor."

The silence lasted for a second before Cisca hurriedly stood up.

"OMG, we need to go to the hospital!" She exclaimed, standing up.

"Calm down, Cisca." Christy placed a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Are you sure, honey?"

Y/n nodded and carefully sat down on the couch.

"The contractions aren't regular yet, but... I've been feeling them for a few days."

Cisca's eyes widened. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN A FEW DAYS AGO?!"

Christy sighed, massaging her daughter's back. "Daughter, you should have told me sooner."

"I thought it was nothing..." Y/n muttered, biting her lip.

Cisca took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "Then, let's go to the hospital now."

Y/n shook her head.

"Not yet. The doctor said we only need to go when the contractions get closer together."

Although reluctant, Christy and Cisca agreed to wait, but decided to monitor every detail. Christy took out her cell phone and began to time the contractions.

After a few minutes, Y/n looked at Cisca.

"Did Lando text? Is he coming back already?"

Cisca shook her head. "I haven't received anything yet, dear."

"Can you hand me your cell phone? It's over there on the counter." Cisca picked up the phone and handed it to her. "Thank you."

Christy continued to rub her back when Y/n unlocked her phone and saw that there were no messages from Lando. Her eyes burned and she placed the device aside, covering her face with her hands.

"I'm scared." Her voice was choked. "Lando should be here... the babies are too far along... I don't know if I can do it.

Cisca crouched down in front of her, holding her hand.

"You can do it, honey. You're strong. The babies might be a little early, but it'll be okay."

"Yes, you will." Christy reinforced, squeezing her daughter's arm. "Lando is coming, and you're not alone."

Y/n took a deep breath, running her hand over her stomach.

"Liam, Lola... stay calm, okay? Daddy's coming."

Cisca got up to get the maternity bags while Y/n tried to calm down.

An hour passed. The contractions had slowed down, but Y/n knew another one could come at any moment. Then, her phone lit up with a text from Lando.

'Honey, I'm boarding the jet now. In two hours I'll be home with you and the babies.

Y/n felt her heart tighten. Could she wait two hours for Lando to arrive?

She quickly responded.

'Lan...I'm in labor.'

He saw it at the same moment and, seconds later, the cell phone screen showed a video call.

When he answered, Lando appeared pale, walking quickly towards the jet.

"YOU'RE WHAT?!" He put his hands on his head, his voice filled with panic. "Oh my God, love, are you okay?! How are the babies?!"

Y/n tried to remain calm, but her voice still came out shaky.

"I... I'm fine. The contractions are still spaced out, but I think it's going to happen today."

Lando took a deep breath, trying to process.

"I'll be on time. I promise."

"Cisca and my mom are with me." Y/n turned the camera to show the two of them busy organizing their bags.

Lando shook his head.

"They need to take you to the hospital now."

"Not yet." Y/n replied. "The doctor said to go when the contractions get closer together."

"What if it speeds up all of a sudden? I don't want you having babies at home!"

"Lan, this wasn't supposed to happen for another three weeks. The babies can't come now, they need to stay a little longer." Her voice broke at the end, and a tear ran down her cheek.

Lando squeezed his eyes shut, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "Baby, it's going to be okay. I know it's early, but Liam and Lola are ready to come into the world. And I'm going to get there as soon as I can."

Y/n sniffed and nodded. "I wanted to wait for you..."

Lando closes his eyes for a moment, trying to remain calm, and says firmly: "Nothing will go wrong. You are strong, love. Liam and Lola have the best mommy in the world. I'm going as fast as I can, and if they decide to come before... then I trust that you will bring them into the world in the best way."

Y/n runs her hand over her belly and smiles with tears in her eyes. "Did you hear that, babies? Daddy's coming. But how about we wait for him?"

Lando smiles on the other side of the screen, visibly moved. He is about to say something else, but the call starts to fail. Yin realizes that the plane is taking off.

"I love you. I love you. I love you..." Lando repeats over and over, wanting Y/n to hear his words before the screen freezes and the call drops.

Y/n sighs deeply, holding her cell phone against her chest. Cisca places the delivery bag at the door, aware that the moment had arrived.

A new contraction arrives, more intense than before. Y/n lets out a moan and tears stream down her face, but this time it wasn't just from the pain-it was from fear. Christy quickly approaches, holding her hand tightly.

"Shh, my love... I'm here. It's going to be okay. You're strong, and I know you can do it."

Y/n lets out a sob, trying to control her breathing. "I want to go to the hospital. The pain is too much, mom... something is wrong."

Christy and Cisca exchange a worried look before nodding. Cisca grabs the bags while Christy helps Y/n to stand up carefully. Little by little, they leave the house, and Y/n leans on her mother, feeling another strong tightening in her belly. Lando's mother grabs the keys and locks the door, already sending a message to Y/n's doctor.

On the way to the car, Y/n cries softly, holding her mother's arm. "I thought we would have more time..." She murmurs, her voice breaking with emotion.

Christy runs her hand through her daughter's hair lovingly. "You've waited long enough, my love. Now it's time to meet your babies."

Cisca smiles as she gets into the car and looks in the rearview mirror. "I think Liam and Lola just want to meet their mommy, who they already love so much."

Y/n lets out a little laugh through her tears, feeling her heart warm with those words.

The drive to the hospital is long. Traffic is bad, the lights seem to take forever to change, and with each contraction, Christy holds Y/n's hand and helps her breathe. Cisca drives as fast as she can, trying to stay calm, but the worried look in the rearview mirror gives her away.

As soon as the car parks in front of the hospital, a nurse is already waiting for them with a wheelchair. Christy and Cisca rush out - one opens the door for Y/n, while the other grabs the bags.

Y/n hesitates for a moment before sitting down in the chair, holding her belly. "Lando isn't here yet..." She murmurs, concern evident in her voice.

Christy squeezes his hand. "He's coming, my love. But right now we need to focus on you and the babies."

"Honey, do you know how long there is between contractions?" The nurse asks.

Y/n responds with a shaky sigh. "They were an hour apart... but now they're closer."

When they enter the hospital, Y/n is taken straight to a room. Christy holds his hand until they have to part momentarily.

"I'll make your entrance, dear. Cisca will stay with you until I get back."

Cisca nods in agreement and smiles at Y/n.

In the room, the doctor who monitored the pregnancy performs some tests while the nurse checks Y/n's dilation.

"Three centimeters," the nurse says. "It's still too early to push. It may take a few hours to reach the ten centimeters needed for delivery."

Y/n lets out a shaky breath, looking at the doctor. "There are still three weeks until they are born..."

The doctor nods with an understanding look. "Yes, ideally they would stay a little longer, but twin pregnancies tend to come early. You were already receiving corticosteroids to help the babies' lungs mature, and we'll give them another dose now to make sure they're born strong."

Y/n nods, feeling a little more relieved. Closing her eyes for a moment, she tries to relax. Cisca sits next to her, holding her hand.

Shortly after, the nurse arrives with the medicine and applies it to Y/n, who takes a deep breath.

The nurse smiles at her before leaving. "You're doing great. If you need anything, just call."

And then, Christy returns to the room. "Okay, I've already checked you in and told Lando that we're here. I also sent a message to your father, and told him not to worry, that we're with you."

Y/n smiles, grateful. "Thank you, mom."

Christy strokes her arm. "Always, my daughter."

Cisca stands up. "I'll tell the Norrises too. I'll be right back."

"Thank you, Cisca." Christy smiles. "I'll take care of our grandchildren."

Cisca laughs. "Needless to say, you've already started."

Y/n lets out a weak laugh, feeling calmer.

Christy sits next to her, holding her hand and looking into her daughter's eyes. Now so grown up, a strong woman, married and about to have babies of her own.

"My love, I still remember the day I held you in my arms for the first time. You were so tiny... and now here you are, about to bring your own babies into the world." Y/n smiles weakly, still feeling the anxiety. Christy squeezes her hand tighter. "I always knew you would be an amazing mother. You have so much love in your heart, Y/n. Liam and Lola are so lucky to have you."

Y/n's eyes water. "What if I'm not strong enough?"

Christy runs her hand through her hair, her voice firm but full of affection. "You're already strong. You've been through so much, and look where you are. You've created a beautiful family, found someone who truly loves you, and now you're bringing these two little miracles into this world." Y/n closes her eyes, feeling a few tears fall. Christy wipes them away gently. "I'm so proud of you, my love. You've always been my brave little girl."

Y/n looks at her mother with emotion, her voice coming out as a whisper: "Thank you for being here... I couldn't do it without you."

Christy smiles and kisses his forehead. "I always will be, my love. Always."

And then a cell phone beeps inside the bag, Christy gets up and reaches for the cell phone inside and sees that it was from Y/n, smiling when she sees the screen lit up.

"It's a message from Lando," he said, handing the device to his daughter.

Y/n quickly unlocked her phone and opened the conversation.

Love❤️: "We're landing in 30 minutes. Are you at the hospital yet? I'll be right there!"

She smiled, feeling immediate relief at knowing he was so close. With slightly trembling fingers, she typed a reply.

Y/n: "Yes, I'm already at the hospital. The contractions are still bearable, so there's no need to run like crazy. Drive calmly, love."

Love❤️: "You know me, right? Running is part of my DNA. But I promise I'll arrive in one piece. I love you!"

Y/n: "I love you more. We're waiting for you, daddy."

After sending the message, he sighed deeply, closing his eyes for a moment and placing his hand on his stomach.

"Lando will be here in a few minutes," he said, his voice still thick with emotion.

Christy smiled, leaning forward and placing a loving kiss on her daughter's forehead. "So now you can relax a little. He's on his way, and soon you'll be together to meet these two little angels."

Before Y/n could respond, Cisca entered the room with an amused smile, holding her cell phone in her hand.

"I just told Adam and Lando's brothers. I think their reaction was even more intense than ours." He said with a laugh. "You should have seen the messages, it looked like they were freaking out!"

Y/n chuckled softly. "I expect no less from the Norris family." She commented, amused by the image in her mind of her desperate brothers-in-law.

"Flo, Cisca and Oliver's wife also sent their support to you," Cisca added, sitting down in the armchair next to the bed. "By the way! Flo already asked me to deliver flowers here for you!"

Y/n smiled, feeling their affection. "Tell them I appreciate it. And that they'll soon meet Liam and Lola."

Time passed and the contractions began to get closer together, but the dilation was still low. The doctor returned to the room to check the babies' heartbeats while the nurse performed some tests on Y/n.

Taking a deep breath, she looked at the monitor, listening carefully to the two little hearts beating loudly.

"They're both strong," the doctor said with a smile. "And look at their fast heartbeats. It's like they're ready to run."

Y/n chuckled softly. "Well, they're Lando's kids. And he's not exactly the epitome of calm."

The doctor laughed along. "That explains a lot."

The room was prepared for the arrival of the babies. In the corner, there were pink and blue balloons, some welcome cards and flowers sent to Y/n. Two large teddy bears were placed side by side, each with a name embroidered on the belly Lola and Liam. A gift from Y/n's father.

There was a knock on the door and Christy got up to answer it. When she opened it, a smile lit up her face. "Look who's here!!"

Y/n turned her head immediately, feeling tears well up in her eyes as she saw Lando standing in the doorway, holding a bouquet of flowers.

"You did it..." She murmured, sighing in relief.

Lando smiled and walked over to the bed, leaning down to kiss her forehead before looking into his wife's eyes.

"I told you I wouldn't miss this for anything." He handed her the bouquet and smiled. "To my strongest, most amazing girl. I love you more than I can put into words."

Y/n smiled and a few tears fell from her eyes, holding the flowers lovingly. "Thank you, love. I love you sooo much."

Lando then bent down to get closer to her belly, running his hand over her skin with an enchanted look.

"And you two, huh? You didn't even want to wait for daddy to get here." He joked. "But now everything is fine. Daddy came to help mommy, so you can rest easy." He looked up and only then noticed Christy and Cisca watching the scene with smiles on their faces. "Ah... I hadn't even seen you there." He said, laughing.

Christy laughed. "Don't worry, dear. We didn't mean to interrupt the moment."

Lando walked around the bed and hugged first his mother-in-law, then his mother. "Thank you for taking care of her and the babies."

"No need to thank me, Lan. We wouldn't leave her side for anything." Cisca said fondly.

"And now that you're here, let's leave you two to enjoy this moment." Christy added. She held Y/n's hand once more. "If you need anything, I'll be downstairs, my love."

"Thank you, Mom."

Christy smiled, kissing her daughter's forehead. "You're amazing, Y/n. Everything will be okay."

As soon as the two left the room, Lando turned his attention to his wife. But before he could say anything, he felt Y/n squeeze his hand tightly.

"One more..." She mumbled, closing her eyes as the contraction came.

Lando immediately grabbed her hand with both of his. "I'm here, love. Take a deep breath, this will pass. You're doing great."

Time passed and, with each contraction, Lando remained by her side, holding her hand, whispering sweet words and encouraging her. He felt her fingers tightening around his with increasing force, but he did not complain. Her pain was greater than anything he could feel.

And then the nurse came in again and smiled at Y/n. "I'm going to check your dilation, okay?"

Y/n nodded, taking a deep breath as a few tears ran down her face.

After examining her, the nurse smiled. "We are fully dilated. It's time to bring the babies into the world."

Y/n's heart raced. As the nurse began to prepare the room and equipment, she looked at Lando with wide eyes.

"I don't know if I can... I'm in a lot of pain, and it feels like there's something wrong with one of the babies."

Lando cupped her face in his hands and looked into her eyes, "Hey, nothing's wrong. They're okay, love. You can do it. I'm here for you."

The doctor entered the room with an excited smile.

"The time has come! Let's meet these little champions."

Y/n smiled nervously. "It seems so..."

As the equipment was sterilized and everything was prepared, Lando noticed that Y/n was watching everything with a frightened look.

He held her hand and called softly, "Love, lean forward a little."

"Why?" She asked, frowning but doing as he asked.

Lando smiled and swung a leg over to the other side of the bed, positioning himself behind her. "I'm making sure my first love is comfortable to bring my other loves into the world."

He hugged her from behind, holding her hand and kissing the top of her head, which was slightly wet with sweat. Y/n closed her eyes for a moment, feeling safer in his arms.

The nurse put on gloves and smiled.

"Come on, Y/n. When the next contraction comes, I want you to push as hard as you can."

Y/n took a deep breath, nodding.

The contraction came hard, making Y/n lean forward a little. Lando ran his hand over her back in a light, comforting caress, while holding her other hand firmly. She took a deep breath and began to push, trying to help Lola be born.

But pain, fear and fatigue quickly mixed together. Her breathing became ragged, and the contraction began to ease without her being able to finish the effort.

"I... I can't do it..." Her voice came out shaky, choked with tears that were building up. "I'm scared..."

Y/n laid her head on Lando's shoulder, tears streaming silently as her body shook with exertion.

The nurse gave her a gentle look, trying to calm her down. "You're doing great, honey. Just a little longer, we need to wait for the next contraction, okay?"

Meanwhile, the doctor monitored the babies through the ultrasound, paying attention to their heartbeats. Minutes passed, and then the new contraction arrived. Y/n took a deep breath and pushed again.

"That's it, Y/n, you can do it!" The nurse encouraged.

Lando leaned in close, whispering sweet nothings in her ear. "You're doing so well, love... our little girl is almost here."

But suddenly, the nurse frowned and looked at the doctor before muttering, "WAIT a moment, something's wrong..."

"What's wrong?" Y/n, panting, opened her eyes in fright.

Lando felt her hand grip tightly and tensed. "What's going on?"

The nurse manually examined the baby's position while the doctor kept his gaze fixed on the ultrasound screen.

"The umbilical cord is wrapped around Lola's neck. This is making it difficult for her to come out because the oxygen flow to her lungs is compromised. She is getting weak." The nurse explains.

Y/n's face drained of color. Her eyes instantly filled with tears, and her breathing became faster and more irregular. She squeezed Lando's hand tightly.

"She... she'll be okay, right?" Her voice came out in a shaky whisper.

Lando swallowed, feeling his heart hammer in his chest, but he kept calm for her. He kissed the side of her head and murmured, "Baby, trust them... Lola will be fine, I promise."

The doctor sighed and looked at the team. "We can't continue with a natural birth. We need to act quickly before her oxygen saturation drops any further."

He quickly left to call the OR team, reserving a room for the emergency C-section. The nurse began to organize the room and prepare Y/n.

Lando got up from the bed to stand beside her while the nurses adjusted the IV and monitors on her. The nurse explained everything calmly, but Y/n was already crying, distressed.

"Why is this happening? I was trying! Did I do something wrong?" She sobbed, turning her face to Lando.

He cupped her cheeks in his hands, resting his forehead against hers. "Hey, hey... this isn't your fault. You did everything right, my love."

"But I wanted to do this for them..." She whispered, her eyes filled with pain.

"And you still will, Y/n. You'll still bring our babies into the world, just in a slightly different way. What matters is that you're okay."

The door opened, and nurses came in with the gurney to take her to the operating room. Lando had to let go of her hand for a moment as they moved her, and the tightness in his chest grew when he saw the frightened look on her face.

"Lando..." Y/n called in a tearful voice, extending her hand.

He quickly grabbed hers and followed her as they pushed the stretcher out of the room. The nurse noticed Y/n's desperation and turned to Lando.

"You can come into the room and watch the birth if you want."

Y/n looked at him, eyes shining with tears.

"I'm going in, I just need to let our family downstairs know, okay?"

The nurse nodded. "We'll be heading up to the surgical floor, tenth floor. When you arrive, look for me at the nurses' desk, my name is Izzie."

Lando nodded and kissed Y/n's forehead as they entered the elevator.

"I'll be quick, I promise. I'll be there in minutes." Y/n nodded, but she was still nervous. "Soon, we'll be holding our babies."

She smiled weakly. "And you're going to be an amazing daddy."

"We already are. We'll just make it official in a little while." He chuckled softly.

The elevator doors closed, and Lando blew a kiss into the air before rushing out to tell his family downstairs.

Meanwhile, Y/n was wheeled into the operating room and prepped. The doctors explained the procedure, assuring her that they would pay special attention to the babies. They put the surgical cap on her and monitored her vital signs.

Sitting on the stretcher, Y/n listened to a nurse explaining: "We're going to apply spinal anesthesia, which will block the pain from the waist down. You'll feel touches and pressure, but no pain, okay?"

She nodded, but her breathing was fast. She looked around, missing Lando.

Before she could say anything, the door opened. Nurse Izzie walked in, bringing Lando with her. He was wearing a surgical cap and putting the mask on his face, smiling at Y/n.

"You came back quickly..." She sighed in relief.

Lando stepped closer, holding her hand. "And miss this moment? Not even if I were in another country."

She smiled at him, feeling immediate comfort.

The anesthesiologist came over. "I'm going to give you the anesthesia now, okay?"

Y/n nodded, squeezing Lando's hand a little tighter. Once they had applied the anesthesia to Y/n's back, they carefully laid her down on the stretcher, with the surgical field positioned so that she couldn't see the procedure.

"Now we're going to start the incision. You may feel some pressure, but no pain. If you feel anything different, let us know, okay?" The doctor explains some steps.

Lando squeezed her hand gently. "It's going to be okay, love. Lola and Liam will be with us soon." Y/n looked at him, feeling stronger with those words. "You've been so strong all these months... and you're going to be an amazing mommy now."

She smiled at him excitedly. "And you're going to be the best daddy."

The procedure began with precision and speed. Lando kept his attention divided between the surgery and Y/n, observing every detail with a mixture of fascination and anxiety. The environment around him was controlled, but the tension was inevitable. He watched the doctors and nurses working in a coordinated manner, monitors emitting rhythmic sounds, surgical instruments gleaming under the bright lights.

Time seemed to drag on until the doctor announced that they were about to take Lola out. Lando immediately looked at Y/n, and the two exchanged a smile filled with emotion and pride.

"Our first baby is coming, love." He whispered, squeezing her hand affectionately.

Y/n smiled back, her chest filling with anticipation. A few seconds passed, and then she realized that Lola had already been born, but something was wrong. Silence hung over the room. The cry she had been waiting for never came.

"Why isn't she crying?" Y/n's voice was shaky, her eyes filling with dread. "Why is our Lola so quiet?" She turned her head to Lando, searching for some answer.

Lando felt his stomach churn, fear seeping into every cell of his body. "What's going on?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady, but his tone held an undeniable urgency.

One of the nurses quickly took Lola to the next resuscitation table, while another began suctioning her airway. The pediatrician, keeping his tone calm and firm, explained, “She was without oxygen for a while, but we’re managing it.”

Y/n's eyes filled with tears. She tried to move, but Lando grabbed her hand, bringing her back to him. "Baby, calm down... they're taking care of her. She'll be fine."

The doctor looked at Y/n with concern. "We need to keep going. Liam is almost here, but we need you to stay calm so your heart rate doesn't increase too much, okay?"

Y/n closed her eyes, sobbing softly, while Lando stroked her hair, trying to comfort her.

The seconds felt like an eternity. The silence in the room was piercing. Y/n's heart was pounding, insecurity suffocating her. Lando tried to stay strong for her, but the fear of losing his daughter made him restless.

Then, a low, hoarse cry filled the room. Everyone in the room smiled, and Y/n sobbed in relief, letting out a tearful laugh.

"There you go!" The nurse smiled, looking at the couple. "I just needed a little help."

Lando sighed, running his hand over his wife's still sweaty forehead. "Our little one is already causing drama."

Y/n let out a weak laugh through her tears.

The doctor smiled at the comment and then focused again. "Liam is almost here."

"I hope this one is calmer than his sister." Lando looks at his wife, smiling.

Y/n smiled, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders. Now that she knew Lola was okay, she could breathe a little easier.

Seconds later, Liam was born, and a loud, characterful cry echoed through the room.

Y/n closed her eyes, smiling. Her babies were fine. She was fine.

"This one came in already making a fuss." Lando laughed, looking at his son over the surgical field, still holding his wife's hand.

"That's how I like it." Y/n replied, smiling weakly.

As the doctors finished the procedure, the nurses examined and cleaned the babies. One of them came over with Lola in her arms and smiled at the parents.

"Do you want to meet your little girl?"

Y/n, still lying down, turned her head and saw the nurse approaching with her little girl. Her eyes filled with tears of happiness when she saw her healthy, breathing and extremely cute daughter there.

"Hi, my love... mommy's here." She whispered, touching the baby's delicate cheek.

Lando came closer and smiled, completely enchanted. "Hi, little princess. You gave us a scare, huh?" He gently caressed Lola's cheek. "But I can see that you're going to be just like mommy... you like to keep everyone on their toes.

Y/n laughed softly, still emotional. But her maternal concern soon surfaced.

"Why is she so small?"

The nurse smiled reassuringly. "This is normal for twin pregnancies. The babies share nutrients in the womb, so they are usually smaller at birth. But she is fine, strong and healthy."

The explanation calmed Y/n, and she nodded, looking at her daughter tenderly again.

A few seconds later, the other nurse arrived with Liam in her arms and approached the other side of the stretcher, near Lando.

"Hey, champ..." Lando murmured, completely enchanted by his son.

Yin smiled, touching his cheek affectionately. "My love, look at you! So beautiful and strong!"

Liam shifted in the blankets, seemingly searching for his mother's voice, which made Y/n and Lando chuckle softly.

"They're perfect..." Y/n whispered, watching the two babies with her heart overflowing with love.

"Just like you." Lando replied, kissing her forehead affectionately.

The nurse smiled at the couple, holding one of the babies gently. "We're going to take them for some tests and monitoring while you rest, Mommy. Just in case."

Y/n blinked a few times, still feeling slightly drowsy from the anesthesia. "Will they need to stay in the neonatal unit?"

"We will evaluate, but apparently it won't be necessary. Just one night for observation."

Relief washed over her, and she nodded with a small smile. Watching them be taken away was strange—a tightness in her chest that only eased when she felt Lando's warm hand clasp hers.

"You can go with them, love." She looks at Lando, already feeling very drowsy from the anesthesia.

Lando smiled, his eyes soft and full of affection. "I know... But first, I need to make sure my first love is okay."

He brought her hand to his lips and placed a kiss there. And then he stood by her side throughout the rest of the procedure and when they took her away for observation.

••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was almost dawn when Y/n insisted on going to see them. Recovery from the anesthesia had been slow, and painkillers helped ease the pain, but the need to be with her children was greater than any discomfort.

With the help of a wheelchair and, of course, Lando, she finally made it to the pediatric ward.

Lando was different. Even with the dark circles under his eyes and the obvious tiredness, there was something about him that wasn't there before. A sparkle in his eyes, a smile that seemed impossible to contain. He looked at Yin as if he were seeing the love of his life transform before his eyes because that was exactly what was happening. She wasn't just his woman, his wife. Now, she was the mother of his children.

She held Liam in her arms, studying every little detail of the baby. He had delicate features, but the same way as Lando. His little nose, the shape of his lips, his serene expression. Everything she loved about her husband was there, condensed in that little boy who slept peacefully against her chest.

On the other side, Lando walked slowly, cradling Lola in his arms. The baby was so small that she seemed to get lost in the soft blankets they had bought for her. But her eyes were open, fixed on him, as if she already knew exactly who this man was who was holding her with so much love.

"You already know I'm your daddy, don't you, little princess?" He murmured, rocking her lightly. "I know I'm very handsome, hard to look away from."

Y/n chuckled softly, watching the scene with a smile.

"But don't get used to it, okay? You and your mom already boss me around too much, soon Liam will want to give orders too. I'll have to move to the garage." Lola just winked at him, and Lando let out a laugh. "Oh, so that's how it is? Are you going to pretend you don't understand?" He nuzzled her little face. "It's okay, I know you already love me."

The atmosphere was peaceful, with other babies nearby and a few parents sitting in the armchairs around them. The low sound of conversation and the occasional cry made the moment even more special.

Then a nurse approached with a warm smile. "There are visitors for the babies."

Y/n looked up and her heart sank as she saw, on the other side of the large glass window, the most important people in her life.

Cisca held Adam's arm, her eyes filled with tears of happiness. Y/n's father wore a proud smile, while her mother looked ready to cry. Flo, on the other hand, was restless, anxious to see her nephews.

Lando helped Y/n get up and walk to the window, with extreme care, he turned Lola in his arms so that everyone could see her. The little girl was sleeping peacefully now, surrendered to sleep, a pacifier in her mouth, which seemed almost bigger than her.

Flo smiled and spoke loudly for them to hear. "My God, that pacifier is bigger than her face!"

Lando laughed. "That's the cutest thing!!"

Christy and Cisca put their hands to their chests, completely enchanted. Y/n arranged Liam in her arms and lifted him slightly so they could see him. Her father's eyes lit up and he let out a laugh.

"He's all Lando!"

Cisca and Adam agreed, laughing. "Just like Lando when he was born!"

Y/n felt her eyes water, her heart aching at having her whole family there, even separated by glass. The squeeze of Lando's hand in hers brought her back. "They are already so loved."

She nodded, smiling excitedly. "From the first second."

Lando and Y/n exchanged a look before turning their attention back to the family.

"In a few days, you'll be able to hold them." Y/n said loud enough for them to hear.

"I can already imagine spoiling these two to the limit!" Cisca smiled.

Christy looked at her daughter, her eyes shining with pride. "You were amazing, my girl. They are perfect."

Y/n listened and smiled, feeling her heart overflow with happiness.

Lando was still talking to his family about Lola, but his attention turned to Y/n when he noticed the way she looked at the babies. Completely in love, radiant, exhausted, but happy in a way he had never seen before.

He bent down a little and touched her cheek affectionately.

"I love you, Mama Norris."

Y/n smiled, feeling her eyes fill with tears again.

"I love you more, Daddy Norris."

Lando chuckled softly, resting his forehead against hers.

Eunoia // Ch. 19

eunoia (noun): beautiful thinking, the possession of a well-balanced mind, which exhibits goodwill and kindness

Pairings: Hybrid! BTS x reader

Summary: You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job.You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognision, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness ins’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?

Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, eventual smut

Word Count: 7.5k+

Warnings: past abuse, past sexual abuse, cursing

Masterlist

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 chapter 18

The taglist is now closed

One thing you hadn’t considered before going undercover for the police was the sneaking around to reach your hotel room. A tiger hybrid that hadn’t been there for the rest of your stay was returning with you and John’s jacket was the only garment that was covering anything. You had to take the back door to avoid being seen by any too curious eyes and bribe someone from the hotel staff to let you use the staff’s elevator. As an excuse, you told him you were afraid someone was following you, paparazzi or some stalker. John and Taehyung stayed hidden until the staff member left after asking you at least three times if you wanted him to accompany you to your room.

You were lucky the corridors of the top floor were empty and the three of you made it to your room undetected. The reason you were staying at that specific hotel was that it was advertised as valuing their guests’ privacy and you had been trying to avoid the press. Now, you were thankful for that choice because there were no cameras in the hallways. If videos of you returning to the hotel with a mostly naked hybrid got out, your career would be over.

The door to your hotel room closed behind you and your shoulders sagged. The silk dress stifled you, pushing your chest more and more until there was nothing left but the impression of all the air you couldn’t take.

You collapsed on the couch and undid the straps on your high heels. When your feet were bare you felt lighter. The first piece of your costume was off.

“I have to go change,” John said. “I feel like the suit is going to eat me up.”

You rolled your neck, hearing tiny cracks. “Believe me, I get it.”

“I’ll be back in a few minutes, I need to change into something more comfortable,” John said, opening the door. “You should do the same. It’ll be a long night.”

Yujin was supposed to call you to update you after the raid. You would have to go back to the police station and officially recount all the events that took place at the auction and point out the ones who organized it. They would need your testimony to strengthen the case and guarantee Hyungjoon wouldn’t escape a prison sentence.

It was two hours past midnight and your flight was leaving Seoul at eight in the morning.

You cleared your head of police protocol and eleven-hour-long flights. Taehyung had stopped by the coffee table in front of the couch, John’s jacket draped over his shoulders. His expression was carefully blank, a statue sculpted to be still and perfect for the viewer’s enjoyment. Some statues displayed more life than he did.

“It’s late,” you said. “You should go to the bedroom and get some rest. Would you like that?”

He nodded and headed to your room without question. He deserved to sleep in a comfortable bed. He deserved everything the world had to offer after being through that monstrous night. And you didn’t know anything else about how it had been before or how many years he had been treated like a slave. Trained.

You took off the gold necklace and your earrings. You couldn’t look at your dress without getting the urge to rip it to pieces, listen to the green silk being torn apart. It was a reminder of a night you already wanted to forget, of a role you never wanted to play again. It was scary. Because you saw people you knew in the faces of those enjoying the show of hybrids being auctioned off. You saw your parents parading around wearing the most famous of designers in large ballrooms. You saw a version of yourself that didn’t exist but could have. And could haves were dangerous.

John returned. He had gotten rid of the suit and he was sporting gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt tight around his biceps.

“Are you going to stay in that?” he asked, looking pointedly at your dress.

“God, no,” you said. “I can’t wait to throw it in the trash.”

John sat down in an armchair facing you. “Are you going to throw a dress worth twenty thousand dollars in the trash?”

“I want to,” you said stubbornly. You weren’t going to throw it in the trash, as tempting as it was. You would donate it somewhere and they could sell it. You would be satisfied if you never saw it again. “You don’t have to be here, you know. You can go to your room and sleep. I will wake you up when Yujin calls.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Taehyung isn’t going to hurt me. Did you see how thin he is?” you asked. “Besides, I don’t think he would try.”

“He wouldn’t,” John said. Both of you were aware that he was probably too scared to do anything but obey you. “But it isn’t Taehyung that I’m worried about. Speaking of Taehyung, where is he?”

You laid back against the arm of the couch and rubbed the sore muscles of your feet. “I sent him to sleep in my room, he must be exhausted. And terrified. I don’t know what else to do.”

“You should sleep too. It will be a few hours until Yujin calls. Breaking up the auction and arresting everyone will take some time. Then they have to take everyone to the station and do whatever work they have to do there before she can call you.”

Yujin had promised to call you as soon as she could. She had been confident about wrapping up everything long before your flight. But John was right, you could fall asleep for a few hours.

“I’m not sure I can sleep,” you said honestly.

The orange bottle was hidden inside a pocket in your suitcase, you packed it for every trip out of habit. During demanding schedules, you had no choice but to swallow one of the pills and fall into a heavy dreamless sleep. You couldn’t afford to be sleepwalking at interviews and red carpets.

“You can try,” John said. “I will be right here.”

He made himself comfortable on the chair, crossing his arms and stretching his legs.

“I could fall asleep like this.”

You chuckled quietly. “Go ahead. Your back will be killing you tomorrow.”

His face scrunched up in distaste. “For the sake of my back, I’m not going to. I’ll be waiting for Yujin’s call. You should go change into your pajamas. The couch looks much more comfortable than my armchair.”

The couch was very comfortable and a few hours of sleeping on it wouldn’t be too bad. It had plenty of space to roll around and you could grab one of the pillows from the bedroom. As far as nightly accommodations went, it could be worse.

“I can try,” you said. “But I have another call to make before that.”

John offered you a bemused smile. “I’m surprised you waited so long. I thought you would have called them the moment we came back.”

You fiddled with your dress. “I was going to. But there was Taehyung… I can’t bear to look at him like that. He’s so… lifeless. Like a robot programmed to execute orders. Is that what they turned them into? Shells of themselves?”

“Their goal was a perfect servant. A well-mannered pet. This is exactly what they were aiming for.”

Hate was a strong word, to be used sparingly. When you were younger you used to throw the word around without meaning or rhyme. You hated your parents and you hated your aunt and you hated your friend who pushed you into the sand once. It was all quickly forgotten. Because it was never hate. Growing older you realized that throwing the word around diminished its meaning. You reserved it for the ones who would make your skin crawl and your blood boil.

And after years you found those people. Jimin and Yoongi’s past owner, the organizers of the hybrid fighting ring. Hyungjoon was the only one with both a face and a name. You hated them all.

“How can people be so cruel to them?” you asked bitterly. “They are breaking their souls. And for what? There were children in there. Do they have no conscience? Can they not see that hybrids are the same as us? All of them, every single one of them is sick.”

“They are,” John agreed. He glanced at the door leading to the bedroom. “You will need to wake him up when Yujin calls. They will probably take him in for questioning before returning him to a hybrid center.”

Being in a hybrid center wouldn’t help Taehyung. You couldn’t imagine him getting better there. He needed love and someone to care for him. He should have the freedom he had been denied all these years and anything else he would ever want. But who would adopt a broken hybrid? Because that’s what they would label him as at the adoption center. Not fit to play the happy and cute part. The people who would want to adopt him would have all the wrong reasons.

They couldn’t return him to the adoption center like this. But you could see that there weren’t any other options. Where else would he go?

“It doesn’t feel right,” you said. “He won’t ever be adopted. Not by someone who doesn’t want a slave. He will either spend all his life between adoption centers and shelters or with someone who won’t treat him any better than those people at the auction.”

“But that’s where our job ends. We did everything we could. There is nothing more we can do, we can’t micro-manage who each hybrid will be adopted by. You already saved him. Taehyung isn’t your responsibility.”

“Isn’t he?”

The plan had been clear since the beginning. You were supposed to get a hybrid, the second or third that would be auctioned off and make it believable that you genuinely wanted them. And then when the police had arrested everyone you would give them back to the police and they would attempt to hack the auctions servers and get all the money back, including yours. How could you have predicted that you would grow strangely attached to the hybrid?

John leaned forward, resting his forearms on his legs and clasping his hands together. “You can’t always play savior. Taehyung needs a lot of help and you’re right, as it is he won’t get it at an adoption center. But you are entitled to making a few demands of the police like asking them to offer counseling to the hybrids. You helped enough already.”

Resigned, you wrapped your arms around your legs, laying your cheek on your knees. “You’re right. I just can’t help but feel like I should be doing more for him.”

“What more do you want to do?” John asked in a way that showed he was willing to listen to you. To discuss the matter with you instead of dismissing it. You remained silent. “Are you thinking of adopting him?”

You opened your mouth to reply but closed it again. Were you? There was something tugging at the back of your mind but you hadn’t looked deeper into it. You were avoiding looking deeper into it.

“I shouldn’t be.”

“The police will ask to take him back,” John stated.

Taehyung was part of the case, you couldn’t grab him and leave before it closed. And you couldn’t make the decision by yourself. There were six hybrids back home waiting for you. Things were finally looking up. Yoongi was getting used to the other hybrids, he stopped hiding away and he was talking more. The pack was getting used to having two more hybrids in the house. You couldn’t throw another one at them.

“You should call them,” John interrupted your thoughts. He looked at your discarded purse on the coffee table. “They must be worried sick.”

You reached for your bag and pulled out your phone. John was right, it was about time you called them. You should have called the moment you arrived at the hotel. You blamed the adrenaline of the night and the anxiety that hadn’t yet dissipated. You went to your favorite contacts -the list of your contacts was too long to scroll through- and pressed on Namjoon’s icon.

It was a photo you had taken of him in Virginia. Namjoon was sitting on the grass out in the garden reading a book bound in red leather. He had discovered it in a thrift store on one of your trips to the city, his eyes lighting up at the little treasure. It was an old classic and it once belonged to someone who loved it dearly, evident by the little notes in the margins on every page. Namjoon adored it, keeping it in his room and carefully wrapping it in cloth before packing it for your trip back to Los Angeles.

The phone rang exactly once before he picked up.

“Hey.”

You were greeted by shouts of your name and questions about your well-being. All the hybrids must be gathered around Namjoon’s phone. You realized they had been waiting for you to call and you felt more guilty for not calling them sooner.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” you reassured them. “John and I are back at the hotel.”

You heard mutters and sighs of relief.

“Thank god,” Namjoon said. “Don’t ever do something like that again. I nearly lost my mind.”

You giggled quietly. “Never. I’m not putting myself through that again.”

You went on to tell them everything from when you arrived at the hotel to the car ride back. It was the exact same story you had told Yujin but now you didn’t focus on the details but the feelings. On the anxiety about revealing yourself and your disgust at the event as a whole. You summarized your experience as best as you could. It was for the best if they didn’t have to live it even if it was through a retelling. You would have refrained from telling them anything if they hadn’t pleaded.

After some hesitation, you mentioned Taehyung. You hadn’t shared with them the police’s plan, it had been too late to call them by then.

“Where is he now?” Jimin asked in a small voice.

“In the bedroom. Sleeping.” You glanced at the door. You couldn’t hear any sounds coming from inside. “I’m not sure he speaks English. He can mostly understand what I’m saying but… He doesn’t speak, keeps his eyes on the floor. I haven’t heard him utter a single word.”

“Maybe he only knows specific words,” Hoseok offered. “They must have taught him what he needed to know to understand commands.”

Whatever training they had put him through served one purpose; to make him a slave that would do anything for his owners. They had predicted that a lot of the potential buyers would be foreigners since the auction itself had been in English.

Yoongi surprised you by speaking up. “What will happen to him now?”

“I’ll take him to the police station with me, they need to ask him questions about the auction. But I don’t know if he will be of any help to them.”

“After that?” Yoongi asked.

“An adoption center or a shelter,” you said. The wrong feeling hadn’t left you, abandoning Taehyung at an adoption center made you feel unreasonably guilty. “They will take care of him.”

Yoongi made a scornful sound. “Right.”

You rose from the couch, your bare feet touching the cool tiles and your dress sweeping the floor. You shivered. In one hand, you gathered your dress to avoid stepping on it and falling on your face—its length was designed to be worn with high heels. John lifted his head from his phone.

“I don’t want him to be thrown at an adoption center either. Where else are they supposed to take him? I will make sure he will have access to therapy and anything else he needs. I’ll talk to Yujin, she can do something.”

Yoongi didn’t reply. You looked through the glass wall at the city’s millions of multicolored lights, the tall buildings, and the few cars speeding through the streets. Above, the sky was pitch black, the moon invisible and not a star in sight. You missed the clear night sky in Virginia, away from the pollution and the artificial lights. The moon and the stars were bright enough to lead your way.

“Will you come home today?” Jungkook asked timidly.

Your heart swelled at the bunny’s hesitancy. “I will. I’m not missing my flight. Yujin promised I will have more than enough time after giving my statement to go to the airport. We’ll be flying back on the private jet the company rented, they will wait for me if I’m late by a few minutes.”

“You better be here today,” Seokjin said shakily. “You’ve been gone long enough.”

New York, London, Paris, Berlin, Tokyo, Seoul. Private jets and red carpets and camera flashes. It was two weeks you were gone now and as much as you used to adore traveling you couldn’t wait to go home.

“I will be there, I promise.”

Your finger traced the largest building in your view as you said goodbye. The call ended and you placed your hand on the glass dividing you from the outside. An invisible barrier like the lines you couldn’t see anymore. You turned around and laid your back against the glass.

“You should go to sleep,” John said. “I will wake you up when Yujin calls.”

“Okay,” you said, too tired to argue.

You stayed there for a minute before pushing yourself forward and heading to your room. You would take your pajamas from your suitcase and go to the bathroom to put them on. You had to be quiet to not wake up Taehyung and alarm him. You hadn’t even thought to offer him some pajamas before sending him to sleep. Before you went to the police station you would have to give him some clothes to wear. The silks could be evidence so you would have to put them in your bag and hand them over.

You eased the door open and slipped inside through the crack. Your monster of a suitcase was laying on the floor next to the closet. You hadn’t opened the closet once, there was no reason when you were staying for only two days. You looked to the side to make sure Taehyung hadn’t roused and you almost screamed when your eyes fell on him.

Taehyung was kneeling on the bed, head lowered and hands behind his back. The light of the lamps on the nightstand cast shadows on his bare golden skin, his collarbones, and his ribs. You slapped your hand over your eyes so hard it stung and turned your back to him. The image burned itself behind your eyelids, pulsing in an incandescent glow.

For the umpteenth time that night, your stomach churned aggressively in disgust. This was what they had trained him for. You had known but it was much more horrifying seeing it up close. If you hadn’t been there that balding man would have been in your place. Hands touching his golden skin, trailing lower and lower- You clenched your hands into fists at the revolting images your mind conjured up.

You stayed frozen with your back to him, asking yourself what you should do. It was all proving to be too hard and you were lacking severely. You should say something, anything, but Taehyung might not understand you. He hadn’t understood when you asked him to rest, there was no guarantee that he would understand now.

In every hotel, there were spare sheets and blankets in the closet. You pulled out a white blanket that was more fitted for winter than summer and keeping your eyes down, you threw it over Taehyung. Bundling him up in it, you sat down on the bed keeping some distance between you.

His lips parted in surprise, the first sign of anything other than passiveness on his face.

“Sleep now,” you said, connecting your palms and laying your cheek on your hands, using body language to show him what you meant. He didn’t move, his grip tight on the blanket. “Look at me.” He raised his head, his yellow eyes staring at you under his long lashes. “Lay down and sleep. I won’t touch you.”

You held up your hands, palms open. He glanced at the bed confused, looking almost cute. You patted the bed to encourage him. Cautiously, looking between you and the pillows he lowered his body to the bed.

“Close your eyes now. Sleep,” you said.

He did but he remained tense. Like he was waiting for you to do something. You were progressively getting angrier and angrier. At Hyunjoon and the bastards working at the auction, the ones attending, the ones wgo knew about it and did nothing. The world.

You got up from the bed and although Taehyung kept his eyes closed his eyebrows jumped in surprise. You went to your suitcase and opened it, your pajamas were folded on top of the mess that was the rest of your clothes. They were a peach-colored silk set with branches of orange blossoms all over them, a sleeveless top and pants by an Italian brand.

After you changed and came back into the room, Taehyung was in the same position you had left him in. What you had told him could have been interpreted as an order he was obeying. Or he was still waiting for something that wouldn’t come.

Leaving, you made sure to close the door behind you.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

The ringing of your phone pulled you out of your slumber. In your blurry vision, you saw John picking it up from the coffee table. Yawning, you rubbed your eyes. You hadn’t gotten a restful sleep. The dream you couldn’t remember had filled you with anxiety and your body was so heavy you couldn’t move.

You pushed through the invisible mist, blinking quickly.

John ended the call before you could ask to take it. “It was Yujin.”

“What did she say?” you croaked, your voice scratchy.

A satisfied smile appeared on his face. “They caught them and they believe they found all the hybrids.”

Your shoulders slumped in relief, your whole body lighter than it had been in days. “That might be the best thing I’ve heard in my life.”

“Right after ‘the Oscar goes to…’?”

“Right after ‘the hybrid fighting ring has been dismantled’,” you corrected him.

“Fair,” John said.

In the past few months, your life had turned upside down. Once you had considered the Oscar ceremonies the most important nights of your life. That had changed without you taking notice. They were nothing more than a red carpet, expensive dresses, and little statues.

John slid his phone in his back pocket and reached for his shoes. “Yujin is waiting for us at the police station. She said they will ask you to identify the organizer.”

You rolled your neck, it was stiff from sleeping on the couch without a proper pillow. “That’s easy. I can’t wait for that bastard to be locked up behind bars. And to think that I believed he was nice two days ago. If I had any less composure I would have punched him in the face while he talked about how well-trained their hybrids are.”

“Be glad you didn’t,” John said. “You wouldn’t get to see him behind bars.”

“You’re right. That’s much more satisfying.”

“And way less dangerous,” John added pointedly. "Go wake Taehyung up. The earlier we go the earlier we can leave. We have a flight to catch in four hours and although it’s a private jet they won’t wait long for us.”

Your back cracked as you got to your feet and by John’s wide-eyed stare the loud sounds were mildly concerning. You told yourself that after this was over you would keep your head down and stick to less dangerous activities. You would take fighting with the producers and filming the same scenes over and over again any time over risking your life.

You knocked on the door leading to your room, determined to do this right. There was no response. You knocked again, waited, and pushed the door open.

Taehyung was sitting on the bed wrapped up in the blanket you had thrown over him. His eyeliner was smudged and the golden chains had fallen down his chest and tangled around his waist and arms. Sleep muddled his eyes.

“Did you sleep well?” you asked him, going to your suitcase to pick out an outfit that would be fit for both the police station and the airport.

Taehyung nodded slowly.

“I’m sorry I didn’t let you sleep for long but we have to go to the police station.” You didn’t know how much he could understand—most likely not a lot—but chattering away was your way of making the atmosphere lighter. “I have to find some clothes for you as well. Let’s see if I have anything that fits you.”

You rummaged through your suitcase for anything he could wear. Your clothes were already messed up, messing them up more wasn’t an issue. But it did make your task rather more troublesome.

“There!” You pulled out a white hoodie you had packed for the airport in London. It was one of the most comfortable articles of clothing you owned and it would be just about the right size for Taehyung. “Now for pants…”

That was going to be much harder. You could ask John but his pants would be way too large on him.

“These will do,” you said holding a pair of black sweatpants. If they didn’t fit, you would try something else. You got up —there were a couple of cracks from your legs— and laid the clothes out on the bed. You gestured to the clothes and then to him. “Put these on.”

You went back to your suitcase to find some clothes for yourself. Taehyung inched towards the clothes and let the blanket fall from his shoulders. He got up from the bed and pulled off the first chain.

You cleared your throat. “You can go to the bathroom.”

Taehyung tilted his head.

You turned your back to him and continued your search. The silks fell to the floor with a whisper. You picked up a pair of black jeans and the first shirt you came across.

Leaving the hotel undetected was easier than slipping inside because of the late hour—so late it was bordering on early. John had the keys to one of the SUVs the production company had rented for the schedules. You would be back before anyone noticed it was missing.

The lights were all on in the police station. A man with tired eyes led you to the second floor. Music was playing through the speakers, the kind that played in elevators. Officers wearing dark bags under their eyes were moving around the rooms, carrying folders and flipping through papers. Phones were ringing and doors buzzing. The bright lights were making you dizzy.

Yujin was talking to two officers when you walked inside a large office that smelled like sweat and old coffee. It was loud in the room, keyboards clinking and people talking into earpieces and walkie-talkies and to each other.

“There you are,” Yujin said with a smile. She told the officers something in Korean and they left with nods in your direction. “Everything went according to plan. I believe Mr. Mallory already told you our operation was completely successful.”

“He did. Some of the best news I’ve woken up to.” Yujin’s gaze fell somewhere behind you. John was standing almost protectively in front of Taehyung, the hybrid’s hair hiding his face. “That’s Taehyung.”

Yujin spoke to him in Korean but got no reaction. Taehyung remained perfectly still other than his tiger ear twitching.

“He hasn’t spoken yet,” you said. “I thought it was because he didn’t understand English but… He can understand orders.” You cringed at the word. “They were speaking English at the auction.”

“There were a lot of foreigners. Mostly foreigners,” Yujin said. “Everyone was taken to the station but have no worries, none of them will see you here. I just need you to give a statement and identify the organizer. He won’t be able to see you, we will be standing behind a two-way mirror.”

You were aware of the process. You had been through it once before with Hoseok, standing next to him while he pointed at the people that forced them to fight like animals.

“Okay, let’s get it over with.” A yawn escaped you, it was sudden and you couldn’t stop it. “Excuse me, I’m running on two hours of sleep.”

Yujin offered you a sympathetic look, one that said she had been in the same position many times. “I completely understand. We are grateful for everything you have done for the case. I know I have asked a lot of you.” Her expression changed, turning serious with a hint of what could have been guilt. “There’s something you must know.”

You braced yourself. Whatever started with that phrase wasn’t about to be good.

“We believe there are a couple of people involved in the auction who escaped.”

“Escaped? How?” you asked, cold sweat gathering at your forehead.

An officer appeared and spoke to Yujin in quick Korean. Meanwhile, you shoved your hands in your pockets.

During one of the interrogations, someone had cracked and told them that two people working at the auction had been on another floor while the police had ambushed them. They had their descriptions and would give them to airports and train stations and they would be found soon. But that didn’t change the fact that there were two people out there who could learn of your work with the police and inform others in their network.

John placed a hand on your shoulder, the solid weight anchoring something inside you.

Taehyung was taken away by a man in his mid-forties. He didn’t go with him until you gave him your permission or more accurately told him to follow him and do what he asked. You hated that part, ordering him to do something knowing he will do it without question. But you did what you had to do.

You gave your statement and pointed at Hyungjoon in a lineup of men, most of which you could recognize from the auction. Subconsciously you had memorized much more than just the way in and the way out. The police offered to give you back the money you had spent at the auction when they found a way to take over the auction’s accounts. You declined, asking them to give the money to organizations protecting hybrid rights.

After everything was said and done, Yujin asked to speak to you alone in her office. Puzzled, you told John to stay in the waiting room and you would be back shortly. In his face, you saw the split second he thought of protesting, of asking to come with you. He didn’t, only telling you he would be there if you needed anything.

“Take a seat,” Yujin said gesturing to the chairs in front of her desk.

You did, keeping your back straight. The posture of an A-list celebrity. “May I ask what you wanted to talk about?”

“Of course.” She took off her jacket and hung it over the back of her leather chair. “I don’t want to take up more of your time. But there is an important matter I wanted to discuss with you.” You nodded for her to go ahead. “It’s about Taehyung.”

Your body went stiff. You hadn’t stopped thinking about him since he had been taken away.

“Taehyung? Is there something wrong?”

“No, not exactly,” she said. “It’s about you as much as it is about Taehyung. That’s why I called you here. Two people escaped from the auction, who know you were there and they will expect to see you with Taehyung. You are one of the only four guests who left the auction before we got inside, they could be keeping an eye on you.”

A spike of ice pierced your stomach, it had been built piece by piece since you first heard they hadn’t caught everyone. Gathering until frost was spreading all around your body.

“We aren’t sure, it’s nothing but a speculation,” Yujin rushed to add but it didn’t make it any better. “The most possible scenario is that they are rushing to leave the country not caring about what happens to any of you. But we have to take into account every possibility. And the fact remains that they will expect to see you with the hybrid you paid millions of dollars to get. Not only them but also the ones who attended the auction and will be released later. We should have considered it before but we grabbed a lead and ran with it. We didn’t have enough time for proper planning.”

Someone was shouting outside. You rubbed your bare arms. The temperature was low in the offices.

“What am I supposed to do then?” you asked.

Yujin sighed. “I won’t force you to do anything. It’s your decision but- It would be better if Taehyung stayed with you for a while. A few months at most. Then you can take him to an adoption center and if anyone asks you can say you got bored of him, that he wasn’t what you had wanted.”

“That will be beyond traumatizing for him,” you said sharply. “Giving him a home only to take it away from him. You saw how he is. He doesn’t talk, doesn’t look anyone in the eye unless he is told to. He-” You almost told her of how you had walked into your room to find him kneeling on the bed naked, ready to do whatever was asked of him. You didn’t. Even thinking of it made you nauseous. “I can’t do that to him.”

You couldn’t welcome someone into your home, into your life, and kick them out after a few months. You had seen the show many times. You wouldn’t turn someone away, you could only let them go.

“He needs love and care. He has been through hell and back. I won’t do anything that will cause him harm.”

Yujin pinned you with a stare. “He isn’t going to receive any of that at an adoption center and that’s where he’s going if you don’t take him with you. I understand if you don’t want to. You already have six hybrids to take care of as well as a very hectic career. Regardless, I have to inform you of any dangers that you may face and any way to prevent them that we can come up with.”

You sank into the chair. “Are there no other ways?”

She shook her head. “Not any we have found.”

“I’m leaving for Los Angeles in a few hours. I can’t take him with me, all his papers are forged.”

“They had thought of that before auctioning them off. They have managed to trick the system. You will be free to travel with him anywhere you want. He is already registered under your name. Hyungjoon had lawyers and people in hybrid centers working with him, we have a few of their names. They have ensured that none of the buyers would face any problems that could be traced back to them.”

You scoffed. “For such a well-organized business, they went down quickly.”

“All thanks to you,” Yujin reminded you.

You checked the time on your phone. You had to make a decision and make it fast. You weren’t prepared to adopt another hybrid. Shouldn’t adopt another hybrid. But Taehyung was haunting your every thought. You felt responsible for him, you couldn’t deny it.

You sent a quick message to Namjoon hoping he had his phone close. The text bubble appeared, he was writing back. The first bubble appeared. And another.

“I have to book another flight.”

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

Amelia was a god-sent gift. You called her and the first thing you told her was; “Amelia, I don’t care how many strings you pull or how much it costs. I want a private jet to take me to Los Angeles this morning.” In twenty minutes, she had a private jet ready for you and every person in the crew signing an NDA.

John had frowned.

“Are you going to smuggle him out of the country?”

“I’m not smuggling him out of the country!”

You had explained to him what Yujin had told you, that the papers they had given you at the auction were enough to travel to Los Angeles without anyone asking questions. There, you would have to go to Amelia to tweak a few parts and make some changes. For now, they were good enough. He didn’t try to change your mind, you could tell that he had been thinking over the situation and how it would affect you long before Amelia had called you to her office.

Yujin had left after calling someone to bring the tiger hybrid to you. The case wasn’t closed yet and there was a myriad of things left to do. An officer accompanied Taehyung into the waiting area outside her office. There was a slight tremor in Taehyung’s hands.

Before the man could leave, you asked, “Do you speak English?”

He shifted from foot to foot, unprepared. “A little.”

“Could you translate a few things for me? I don’t think he understands English very well.”

The officer seemed nervous but he nodded. The hardest part about a foreign language was speaking it, understanding it came easier.

You turned to Taehyung, bending so you could look at his face. He looked as beautiful as he had when you had first seen him but the night had taken a toll on him. His makeup was melting, leaving his skin oily and shiny, and his hair was disheveled despite the products they must have used to style it before the auction.

You hoped they had explained everything to him, that you weren’t like the people who had held him captive.

“I’ll be leaving for Los Angeles soon. That’s where I live, where my house is.” You spoke slowly and waited for the officer to translate before you continued. “I would like it very much if you would come with me. But it’s your choice. If you don’t want to, you can go to a hybrid center. They will take care of you there.”

The man translated. Silence spread and you were almost sure Taehyung wouldn’t answer. He did. His low voice sent a shiver down your back.

“He said you are his owner and he will come with you,” the man said in a thick accent.

“If he doesn’t want to, he doesn’t have to. I won't be mad. It's his decision.”

The officer stared at you for a few seconds before repeating your words in Korean. “He said he’ll come with you.”

“Oh. Okay. Uhmm, thanks for translating.”

The officer bowed his head and left.

Taehyung was officially in your care. As official as it could be taking into account the forged documents. But you had the okay from the police and that had to count for something.

You went back to the hotel to pick up your suitcases and check out. You sent a message to the showrunner of Paper Hearts to let her know that something had come up and you wouldn’t be flying back with them. On the way to the airport, you stopped at a bakery and bought some breakfast for the flight. It had become a tradition to get takeout before a flight despite the fact that they offered food on the plane.

You asked Taehyung what he wanted but all he said was; “What you want, mistress”.

“You can call me by my name,” you said, uncomfortable with the title. “I would prefer that.”

He looked at you like it was a test. You were too tired and the language barrier was too hard to navigate so you let it go.

You were terrified you had made a mistake. Taehyung was in a vulnerable position and you had taken advantage of that to cover yourself. He was following you because he believed he should be serving you. However, it wouldn’t be much better for him at an adoption center where he would be gawked at by people looking to get hybrids or locked away in his room because they couldn’t sell him.

The private jet was a little larger than what you were used to, definitely larger than what you needed. You guessed it was the only jet Amelia could rent and get ready for a flight last minute. A long black leather couch stretched on one side with a table in front of it looking ahead at a plasma TV. A vase full of white roses was decorating the table. There were also two leather armchairs on either side of the couch that could spin around. Six more seats were ahead, two on one side and four on the other leaving an empty aisle between them. They were facing each other with two tables between them

This trip would cost you a pretty penny. Normally, you wouldn’t entertain the idea of spending that much money on a flight but given the special circumstances, you weren’t regretting it.

The flight attendant welcomed you, informing you that the jet would be taking off soon. You collapsed on the seat by the window in the group of four, John taking the seat facing yours. You crossed your arms on the table and buried your face in them.

“Finally,” you said. “This trip was endless.”

“Tell me about it,” John agreed.

Promotional tours could range from a couple of weeks to a couple of months so you were on the short end. It still felt endless. Being away from home was getting harder and harder.

You surfaced from your self-made pillow and you noticed that Taehyung wasn’t sitting.

“Take a seat,” you told him realizing he was waiting for you to tell him what to do. You would have to work on that. “You can sit down.”

Wordlessly, Taehyung took the seat next to yours.

“Do you want to sleep?” you asked. Taehyung looked up at you. You guessed the faint expression on his face was confusion. “Wait, I should call Hobi. Maybe he doesn’t know what sleep means.”

You pulled your phone out of your bag but paused.

“What?” John asked. “What are you overthinking about?”

You grimaced. “I’m not…” You couldn’t bring yourself to lie, not after a whole night of lying. Not to John. “I should have called them at the police station. I texted Namjoon but… He must have told them by now. What if they are angry?”

“I don’t think they will be,” John said honestly. “It’s for your safety. They won’t hold this against you, they want you to be safe. And it isn’t like it’s the first time you’re showing up with spontaneously acquired hybrids.”

“It’s the first time for Hoseok and Yoongi.”

“May I remind you that Hoseok and Yoongi used to be those acquired hybrids?”

The day Jimin had run after Yoongi felt like ages away but also like it was last week. A lot had happened since then, many things had changed. Some things you hadn’t noticed at first. Yoongi and Hoseok were a part of your family now, it didn’t matter if the panther hybrid wasn’t ready to admit it yet.

It wasn’t so long ago you had run out in the middle of the night before the crack of dawn and Yoongi had disappeared leaving no traces behind. Two months. How little that seemed. How long it could be. Lives could change in two months.

“They are still adjusting. And Yoongi,” you trailed off. “I don’t think I can handle his anger now. Things have been going so well and this could ruin that.”

Through the speakers the captain announced that you would be soon taking off, asking you to fasten your seatbelts. You helped Taehyung with his, you guessed it was his first time wearing one.

“Yoongi may surprise you,” John said when the captain stopped speaking.

“There are many kinds of surprises.”

“You have to learn how to think positively instead of always expecting the worst.”

The jet ran smoothly down the runway, taking off without a hitch. If you hadn’t been looking out of the window, you wouldn’t have noticed that you had left the ground.

“Ten hours to Los Angeles,” John said.

“Ten hours to home.”

Please comment and reblog it motivates me to keep writing

this was meant to be a late night ramble but i got carried away. will format once i'm on my pc, was written on my phone. not proofread or checked for grammar. also i wrote this in two hours so..............

tl;dr: my take on how the both of you will cope with one of max's worst crashes to date.

tw: crash, max having major injuries after the crash, struggles with alcohol abuse.

you had never been one to ever criticize someone for their choice of profession, especially not when it came to something that paid as high as this, but you wondered if you would ever see your boyfriend in one piece after every race.

it was nerve-wracking of course, seeing him go 350km per hour and hoping his car doesn't fuck itself up and end up in a barrier before then catching into flames. he was good at his job, he loved to drive the damn car so why was it such an issue then?

max didn't understand it either. one moment you would be happy for him and the next you'd be ridden with anxiety whenever he would step into the car, he would always reassure you though. the car was fine, he got the world's best engineers working on his car, that he would be safe.

you didn't understand what had happened though, one moment he was overtaking norris and the next he was in the barrier, a gasp escaped your lips and tears brimmed your eyes when you saw car number 1 in the barrier.

you wanted to claw yourself up there and pull him out of the car yourself but you were being restrained by a few red bull mechanics, telling you that it's gonna to be okay and the marshalls were going to get him out in one piece.

"max? are you alright? talk to me mate."

no response. that's when people started panicking.

max wasn't fine, he wasn't okay. so much force had hit him, he was going max speed when he hit those barriers. he couldn't feel his face, couldn't feel his arms and legs. he felt numb, and it scared him. his ears were ringing and the helmet was suffocating him, he needed air. right now.

he didn't know what happened next, through his blurred vision he could only guess that he had been pulled out the car and his helmet was pulled off his head, he could breathe better but not by much.

the next few moments were just a black void.

you were hysterical when you found out that he was being sent to the nearest hospital, the medical center said, 'it's too big of an injury for us to handle here.' you felt like you were the one dying when you heard he had to go through surgery. you knew he shouldn't have picked this profession, it's insane. how was any of this legal and approved by the government? you didn't know.

you weren't given the specifics because you were neither lawful spouse or family, and his family was hours away from being able to come visit him so you had to sit there and wait for him to come to before you could even know what was going on with him. his profession never scared you quite like this did before.

being in a coma wasn't something on his bucket list, he prayed that he would never go through an accident as traumatic to have to be in a coma.

max could hear the voices, they weren't the clearest. he could hear bits and pieces, but never the full conversation. it was almost as if he was half-asleep and the world around him was just so incredibly quiet. he didn't know what he would do or say to you when he woke up, he was most worried about what you would say. maybe kill him before the injuries from the crash could? max wanted to chuckle from that but nothing came out from his lips, just soft breaths. signaling that he was still alive in there to the outside world.

slowly, he would start hearing and feeling less and less of what happened in the world around him. no longer being able to hear your beautiful voice, and that's what hurt the most, not knowing if you were there with him or not.

you had stayed by his side almost everyday when that happened, not wanting to leave even when the visiting hours were unavailable. always waiting nearby in a coffee shop or booking a hotel room the closest to the hospital in order to be there as soon as visiting hours started.

life felt so empty. you were used to his playful banter and teases but you hadn't heard his voice in two weeks now. you weren't religious, having some religious trauma in life, you would never devote yourself to some invisible god ever again, but you prayed. you prayed to that invisible man upstairs to wake him up, that if he were to wake up, you would start going to church, but that didn't come.

you just wanted him to get better, to open his beautiful blue eyes, look at you and tell you that he loved you. faith was hard to come by but you would always come back to that disgusting sterile smelling room and hold his hand gently, some days you would talk to him, some days you would sing to him but it didn't matter what you did because you would always be there. never missing a possible moment where he would wake up.

the doctors said it didn't look good. they hadn't been medically inducing him in a coma for a week now, he should be conscious by the first few days of taking him off the medically induced coma and you didn't know what to think. you were scared.

you had told him so many times that it made you anxious that an accident like this would happen, that he would get in that car and you couldn't see him anymore but you didn't know it was going to be this soon.

at first you couldn't believe it, it had been almost a month since you heard his voice last. he couldn't be, right? he was the most talented driver you knew, there was no way he was in a coma after a big crash. he was always careful, never taking risks that was unnecessary, right?

you were in denial, you knew it. everyone knew it. you were spiraling out of control and there was nothing anyone could do about it, unless they would magically wake max verstappen out of his comatose state.

there was a hole left in your chest when you realized that maybe he was never going to wake up from this, that you would never see his beautiful blue eyes anymore. slowly, you started to lose hope. visits became far and few between, you just wanted to get away. not wanting to see the day that his family decided that there was no more hope for him and to pull the plug.

you buried yourself in work, not wanting to think, not wanting to feel, just wanting to focus on anything else other than the gaping hole in your chest.

drinking became your best friend, hitting up bars as soon as you finished your shift. downing shot after shot, your friends and his friends were all concerned, always asking if you needed anything, if you needed them and that they were there for you, but frankly you didn't care about anyone else.

coming home drunk wasn't something that was far and few between anymore, it would be every other night, then every night and then sometimes you would sneak a flask in when you were at work. just something to numb the pain of losing your boyfriend. it wasn't enough though.

you were angry.

who cared about all of those other people when the person that mattered the most was in a hospital bed? waiting for his own death that wasn't even entirely up to him? you were angry, you wanted to scream at anything, at someone.

why did it have to be him? why did it have to be your max? why did it have to be him at the wrong place at the wrong time? why? why? why? he did nothing wrong, all his life he was a saint. he was never cruel to anything or anyone in his life, all he did was try to please the people around him, why did it have to be him?

you wished you had the answers, you still prayed. almost like a devoted follower of that stupid god most of the population of the earth believed in. you laughed at the irony of your desperation, no amount of praying or bargaining could ever bring him back, it was too late but damn, if you didn't try you knew you'd regret it.

max's family checked up on you often, sophie and victoria being the ones to ask you how you were. you always appreciated them checking up on you when you knew that they were hurting the most out of all of this, they were his family afterall. you were just... the girlfriend. your feelings were not important in this equation.

trudging through life without waking up next to him was painful, the small pitiful meows coming out of sassy and jimmy were almost even more painful. the reminder that you were in his apartment, with his cats but without him. when was he going to wake up? when were you going to wake up from this bad dream?

a ring from your phone had woken you up from your drunken adventures from the previous night, you wanted to yell at them for interrupting your sleep. you wanted to sleep forever, maybe even be in a comatose state similar to max so then you would be able to wake up together.

"hello?" you mumbled through closed eyes, very much annoyed that whoever this person was, waking you up from your sleep. you didn't even bother to check the called id.

"you need to come down to the hospital, right now."

you haven't scrambled up and got dressed any faster than you just did, you didn't bother doing your hair or even brushing your teeth. one second you were in your shared apartment, the next you were in your car, speeding past the streets of monaco to get to the hospital, maybe breaking a few laws and going as fast as an f1 car.

"schatje."

you were crying when you got there, burying your face in max's chest, you wanted to yell at him, for leaving you alone for two months too long but you didn't have it in you. his hand found its way to your hair, petting your head. a gentle kiss was left against your temple as you continued to cry against his chest, you couldn't form words, basically inconsolable.

you were eventually able to peel yourself off of him though, his hand firmly wrapped around yours, mainly for your comfort and not his. the doctor's had explained that he had to slowly learn to walk and speak again because he was in a coma for so long but the first words out of his mouth when he first became conscious was schatje which made you cry a little bit more. some of his friends and family came throughout the day and he could recognize who they were, just had a hard time speaking.

it was only at the end of the day where you two had a time for yourselves, just basking in the presence of each other, finally being able to see his pretty blue eyes look at you.

"lay... ne-next to me..?" max asked, his voice a bit scratchy for not being awake in two months, tilting his head a little to the left, a little quirk of his which you thought was cute and complied with his request. he wrapped his arm around yours after scooting to make space for you, the both of you just laying there in each other's presence, not wanting to let go.

max didn't understand how much time had passed and understandably so, but he missed you. it felt like he had just gone to sleep and succumbed to his injuries but for you, it felt like a lifetime without having to see the love of your life. the atmosphere was quiet, but comfortable. seeing max alive and in one piece was all you needed before slowly drifting off into sleep, and for once the nurses didn't kick you out after checking in on max.

recovery was hard, max had been told that he suffered damage when he got a concussion from the crash. his spine had been mostly intact but since he suffered injuries to his brain, he had to learn how to walk and talk again.

"what about happiness?" a therapist had asked max as he sat across from her. they were doing some exercises to train max's speaking, something that the doctors had mentioned would help max recover faster. max's face lit up before pointing to you, who was sitting next to him, "nice try max, but you understand what i mean."

a giggle left your lips before he tried again, with a pout dancing on his lips, "joy, winning a race?" he tilted his head cutely before the therapist let him have the answer, it was cute. he was cute but he was a fighter.

the moment the doctors cleared him of any sustaining injuries, he was ready to get on the track again, only after six months after the crash.

"you can't be serious max," you shook your head as you paced around the apartment, "it's only been six months... you should just rest for the remainder of the season and get in next year. i don't understand the rush, you have your life in front of you to compete, what's wrong with waiting a few more months?"

max shrugged, he realized after the crash that he in fact did not have his entire life to race. what if his life was taken early and he couldn't spend the rest of his life with her, what then? he didn't want to waste any time. he wanted to get his head in the game while he was at his prime and get it over with before retiring and getting away with her on a private island and living there for the rest of his life.

he didn't want to race for the remainder of his life, nope. he wasn't like alonso who was going to be on the track when he's old and frail and no longer in the top teams. he wanted to win, and that's what he was going to do, to win. he knew that him coming back so soon even after his injuries were going to be hard on you, he was scared to even bring it up in the first place.

it had only been a few months, and he was so ready to come back to racing. his fingers were basically itching for it, but he was very mindful with how you were going to feel, he always was. he hinted at it a couple times before, but her response was always different than what he wanted.

max sighed when you were obviously going to be upset with his decision, "look, i know you're worried and you do not want me in the car so soon, but you have to trust me—"

you set your back straight before looking him dead in the eyes, "i trusted you six months ago! look where that got us!" you didn't mean to yell, but you were scared and you did not want to lose him because he was driving a silly fast car. max looked hurt, and rightfully so. you sighed before you walked over to where he was on the couch, wrapping your arms around him in a hug, which he welcomed with open arms, "i'm just worried, okay? you being in that coma was the scariest thing in my entire life. i even lost hope, do you understand how scary it was for me to lose hope?"

max nods before landing a kiss on your lips, wanting to reassure you that he made a mistake and that it wasn't going to happen again. he didn't mean to leave you for those two months, but he knew that he was never going to do that to you again. he didn't want to hurt you anymore than he already did.

"trust me, i'm not gonna make the same mistake twice and i'm gonna make you proud."

and max never did. he got in the car the next week, ready to fight. baring his teeth for anyone who could get anywhere close to him. he closed out the season with multiple trophies, even though the driver's championship was out of reach.

he celebrated that season with a big smile on his face and you knew it was the right decision to let him get back to racing. as much as you didn't want to admit it, he loved racing more than he loved you and you were okay with that. you were okay with being second to his ambitions and dreams because that's what good girlfriends do, let their boyfriend's risk their lives driving silly fast cars if that meant it made them happy.

unfortunately, you anxiety wouldn't go away even after all the constant reassurance your boyfriend gave you. the nights where you were alone, wondering whether if max was going to pull through still haunted you.

of course, alcohol was still a problem for you. you turned to it when you felt like you didn't have a choice. some nights, on particularly rough anxiety ridden nights, you would sneak out. just grab a drink or two to soothe your heart. it wasn't long before max caught on though.

"where have you been?" max had asked as you entered their apartment after coming home from work, it wasn't like you came home late and came home absolutely drunk which is why you didn't think he was suspicious. there had been a break between the current races, which is why he was home before you were.

a hiccup breaks the silence as you close the door behind you, you lock eyes with max and you can see the disappointment floating in his eyes, that's when you knew that he knew but you weren't sure how much he knew.

"answer the question, liefje," max sternly spoke up once again, walking towards you, in his eyes was a challenge. he was waiting to see whether you were going to lie to his face or not. he could practically smell the alcohol from there, he went out drinking a lot too, being a formula one driver meant parties like there was no tomorrow.

you didn't know what to answer with, so you answered as vaguely as possible, "i was out with some friends," hoping that the answer you gave him would satisfy him enough without him asking too many questions, you tried to brush past him but he held onto your arm.

max had heard stories from his friends, telling him that you weren't at a good spot after the accident. that you turned to drinking and it seemed like nothing could help except for max himself.

he took one whiff and he knew it was alcohol, "which friends?" he asked, not wanting to let you slip from his fingers, he knew how dangerous alcohol addiction was and he wasn't going to let his girlfriend fall into the grasps of it.

"work friends, max— let go. i want to take a shower," you tugged on his hand that was holding onto your arm, but he was unrelenting. he stared you down, not convinced with the bullshit answer you gave him. he knew you had been out drinking, it wasn't even race week. you didn't have an excuse.

max's eyes softened, he knew that somewhere deep inside of you that you were struggling, that you needed help but you just didn't know how to reach out. was it hard to reach out to him? has he made himself so unapproachable after the accident?

"talk to me, what's going on with you?" max's grip on your arm has softened but you could only sigh and look away, you didn't know how to face him. yes, you were struggling but you didn't know how to bring it up. just like everything in your life, you needed someone to comfort you and tell you it was going to be okay and that there were people there for you, but you were stubborn almost in a similar fashion to him.

you only looked back up at him when max squeezed your arm and the eyes that looked back up at him were no longer hard and guarded, but full of vulnerability and glassy, "i—"

"you've been drinking?" max cut you off and finished your sentence for you, now you knew how much he knew of your struggles. you swear it wasn't supposed to get this bad, you promised yourself you would stop on the weeks where he didn't have races, or maybe just stop altogether but that was easier said than done.

"yes," was all that left your lips and that was the day that max swore he was going to get you through this.

max had offered to take a break like you suggested for the rest of the year, just to ease your nerves but you told him that it was a hard no for you. you knew that it was going to get much worse if you got too used to his presence, the cycle would just repeat itself once he got back into racing.

this time there was another road to recovery, just not for him. max had been nothing but helpful, always offering you help, even offering to pay for your rehab. you contemplated whether you even wanted to go or not, you didn't want to feel weak. to feel like there was something was wrong with you, that you were a freak but at the end, after endless heart-to-heart conversations with max, he was convinced you to go.

the first few months were hard, there was no way you could attend the races while going through rehab so you had to just suck it up and go through it without watching. max felt bad, of course he did. that was the love of his life that he put in that rehab center, but he knew he had to make tough decisions if he wanted you to get better.

he felt horrible not having you there for even some of the races, not because he sent you to the rehab center but because he missed you. he knew that the accident hit you hard, but not this hard. he didn't understand how much anxiety racing did to you, and he was beating himself up for it.

he should've seen the signs, should've reached out sooner before they could fester into something as serious as alcohol addiction but there was no use in beating himself up for something he didn't do in the past, as least he was doing it now after he saw the signs of you struggling.

the initial withdrawal symptoms were insane, if you weren't in rehab, you would've probably relapsed the first day there. it was hard for you and you were trying your best, and you did. overtime, you were recovering and that's all that mattered.

max had received updates of course, he requested them. he wanted to see how you were holding up, if there were any signs of improvement. the therapists there all said that you were doing splendid, that she might get out in a few months which was great news to max.

it would only take you another six months to fully recover and the first thing you did when you saw max when he picked you up was jump into his arms, he breathed out a sigh of relief after not seeing you for a couple of weeks. he could live like this.

both of them had their own battles to fight through but the most important part was that they both overcame both battles, never forgetting to support eachother, even when one lost themselves along the way.

hiya, i have no idea if you do requests but i have a very brief and simple idea, which you can do your own take on - overly sensitive reader is dating oscar piastri & people are bothering her online but she doesn't tell oscar, instead she hides it and acts like she's fine but one night, she's in bed with him but then moves out to the living room & she's reading people's posts and messages about her not deserving him and she just sobs her eyes out, very quietly, thinking he's asleep - but he's not and he hears her, he walks out to the sight of her crying,,, then you can do whatever you want! just basically a hurt/comfort fic idea :) thank you!

𝒏ote , hi nonnie! thank you so much for requesting this. im convinced he is the sweetest sweetest bf and this thought goes so well with him . . .

fem!reader x oscar piastri. established relationship. hurt -> comfort. fluff. insecure!reader. mean online comments.

you knew better.

you knew better than to look. you knew better than to click on the notifications, the comments, the threads where strangers, bold and faceless, tore you apart like it cost them nothing.

you know it’s not true. these people don’t you. they don’t really know oscar. they don’t know anything about your relationship. and you knew better than to give them so much power over you, but you did it anyway.

it felt like a constant in your night routine at this point. after the steady rise and fall of oscar’s chest tells you he’s surrendered to sleep, you slip quietly from the bed.

you try to convince yourself you’re just stretching your legs, grabbing some water, anything to justify the gnawing pull toward your phone, toward the weight you tuck away during the day but can’t seem to ignore when it’s dark and that inner voice manages to convince you to look.

you curl up on the couch, wrapped in one of his hoodies that still smells faintly like him, like the smell of your safe space can wrap around you and stop the words from piercing as deep as they always do.

“he could have anyone and he settles for that?”

“you can’t convince me she’s there for anything but the money”

“he could do way better”

“why do the best guys always tend to settle for the most basic, gold digging girls”

one after another they appear on the screen. picking apart your body, your intelligence, your motives.

you don’t even realize you’re crying until the drops fall on the screen. little blots of water smearing and obstructing the words that had already twisted like knives in your chest.

you know you should turn it off. climb into bed and let oscar cuddle away all the insecurities gnawing at your chest. but it feels like you’re stuck. like if you just read one more comment, maybe you’ll find one that makes it all make sense, one that explains why you feel like you’ll never be enough for him.

you flinch when a familiar hand gently closes over yours, steady and warm, taking the phone from you. you hadn’t even heard him come in.

you don’t move, don’t blink, don’t breathe as he scrolls through the comments himself, brow furrowing more and more the further he goes.

after a few minutes he locks the phone and discards it on the table, settling next to you and pulling you onto his lap.

“you know none of it is true right?” he mumbles against your head, pressing a kiss to your temple and you sniffle

“osc—” you go to argue but he interrupts

“no” he says, the word so blunt and direct it catches you so off guard for a second that you pull your head away from his chest to look at him

“i’m not gonna sit here and listen to you justify what they’re saying. they don’t know you. they don’t know me. and they sure as shit don’t know anything about our relationship” he says, shaking his head slightly at the utter ridiculousness of what he just read.

“but it’s true. i’m not perfect and you could do so much bet—“ you mumble but he interrupts you again before you get the chance to finish, this time with his lips on yours, kissing you until those thoughts float away and the only thing you can focus on is the way his hand is running through your hair

“you’re perfect with me, to me, and for me. hell perfect doesn’t even begin to describe you baby. you’re everything. you’re all I want. the only way these people have any power over you is if you actually believe there’s some truth to what they’re saying. do you?” oscar asks, holding your jaw so you can’t look away from him.

“are you only with me for the money? the attention?” oscar asks, raising his eyebrows dramatically in a way that makes you wanna laugh and by the slight tilt in his lips, he knows.

“no” you say softly and he gasps in mock surprise

“really? I for sure thought you were” he teases and laughs when you hit him playfully.

“i’m just kidding baby. you hate attention even more than I do and you practically tackle me every time I try to pay for anything. and if you think for even one second that I don’t believe you’re the sexiest woman in the world, you come tell me and I’ll prove you wrong, yeah?” he says, pressing kiss after kiss against your temple, your cheek, your nose, your jaw, your lips. every inch he can reach.

“I love you” you say softly, hoping your gratitude for him shines through in your tone.

“I love you the most,” he murmurs back, no hesitation, no doubt. just the pure, simple truth.

his hands gently frame your face, thumbs brushing away the last of your tears with a tenderness that makes your chest ache all over again, but in a different way this time. a softer way.

“let’s go to bed,” he says, voice thick with exhaustion and affection as he picks you up and carries you to the bedroom, leaving your phone and all the negativity on it right there on the table.

Eunoia // Ch. 20

eunoia (noun): beautiful thinking, the possession of a well-balanced mind, which exhibits goodwill and kindness

Pairings: Hybrid! BTS x reader

Summary: You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job.You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognision, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness ins’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?

Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, eventual smut

Word Count: 10.7k+

Warnings: past abuse, past sexual abuse, cursing, past violence, mentions of blood

Masterlist

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 chapter 18 Chapter 19

Many thanks to my incredible beta reader <3

The taglist is now closed

Los Angeles wore its hot and dry summers with pride. You were sweating the moment you stepped out of the private jet, your shirt sticking to your back and your jeans stifling your legs. Above, there was no cloud in sight but an endless expanse of blue and the white-yellow of the sun. An orange hue tinted everything around you, strange and dizzying.

Inside the airport, the AC froze the sweat on your back bringing sweet relief to your burnt skin. The midday sun needed only a couple of minutes. Picking up your suitcases, you headed to the parking lot and got into the SUV. John got into the driver’s seat because when it came to John, he was always the one driving. He only allowed someone else to do the job when it was for official events like red carpets. Overseas, he would turn on the GPS and navigate the streets with ease.

You climbed into the backseat with Taehyung, reluctant to leave him alone. He had barely spoken a word to you the whole trip. He would answer every question with a nod and you were starting to doubt he could understand anything you were saying.

Half an hour into the flight, your eyes were drooping and John’s head was dropping back on his chair. You had been tired from promotions to begin with when you had first arrived in Seoul. The late hour of the auction, the anxiety, and the early visit to the police department had only made it worse. You woke up to the captain announcing you would be landing in ten minutes and to kindly put on your seatbelts.

You were finally back in Los Angeles, its beaches and palm trees. There had been a few dark moments in the blood-red ballroom that you had doubted you would see Los Angeles again. Maybe that’s why it looked more beautiful than ever because you had nearly lost it. One slip and your last memory of it would be watching it grow smaller through a jet’s window.

Keep reading

The Apartment Games | Series Masterlist

pairing: ot7 x f!reader (platonic?)

genre: crack, humour, smau

warnings/tags: non-idol!au, college!au, roommates!au, player!taehyung, literature student!namjoon, fashion student!hobi, comp-sci student!jin, music student!jungkook, sound production student!yoongi, business student!taehyung, veterinary student!jimin, communications student!yn, more warnings in individual parts

disclaimer: this smau crack fic is just for fun (that said, i’m probably going to put in way more time and effort than warranted) and since this is a wip, everything here is pretty much subject to change. also don’t ask me how the age differences work, there were No Thoughts

summary: when y/n’s roommate moves out, an opening at the nicest apartment complex on campus becomes available – and highly coveted within the crowded bangtan dorm. with seven chances to prove who can be the best roommate, the boys are prepared to do just about anything for some privacy and freedom. and y/n certainly intends to make the most of that desperation willingness. welcome to the apartment games.

index

>. character profiles

i. the end of an era pt.1

ii. the end of an era pt.2

iii. the list

iv. ground rules

Hold On to Me

Oscar Piastri x Reader

Summary: When your relationship with Oscar begins to strain under the weight of distance and silence, a harsh argument threatens to break it completely.

You don’t remember when the silence started feeling heavier than the words.

It had been creeping in slowly.

Missed calls. Short replies. Half-hearted kisses when he came home from long flights, and how he always seemed tired, too tired to talk, too tired to try. And maybe you were tired too. Of being second to the schedule. Of pretending it didn’t hurt.

Until one night, you broke.

“You forgot my call again,” you said softly, eyes on the cold dinner waiting between you.

Oscar didn’t look up from his phone. “I was in a meeting. I told you it might run late.”

You stared at him. “Do you even want to be in this anymore?”

That made him pause.

He looked up, defensive. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I feel like I’m dating a ghost, Oscar,” you snapped, heart pounding. “You’re here, but you’re not with me. I don’t need the trophies. I don’t need the glam. I just need you. And I don’t even know if you want to be needed anymore.”

He stood too fast, his chair scraping across the floor. “That’s not fair. You know what this career takes—”

“I’m not asking you to give it up,” you interrupted. “I’m asking you to see me.”

And maybe it was too much. Because he just looked at you like he didn’t know where to begin.

So you walked away.

Just for the night.

But then the next morning came. And he was already gone, on a flight, off to another city, another circuit. You didn’t say goodbye. You didn’t hear from him for days.

Until race day.

You sat alone in your apartment, watching from the couch because you couldn’t not.

Because even when you were angry, you loved him. A

nd halfway through the race, your breath caught in your throat when he spun.

A miscalculation.

A hit with the barrier. Smoke. Sirens.

And suddenly, nothing else mattered.

You were on the next flight before you even had time to pack properly.

The track, the hospital, it all blurred. He had a concussion. Some bruised ribs. Nothing life-threatening, thank God. But still, you sat by his bedside like he might disappear if you blinked.

When his eyes fluttered open, his voice rasped, “You came.”

Your throat tightened. “Of course I did.”

He looked at you like he was trying to memorise the moment.

“I thought… I lost you,” he whispered.

You reached for his hand. “You almost did.”

There was a long pause. One filled with regret and something heavier.

“I’ve been stupid,” he said. “I thought the best way to handle the pressure was to shut everything else out. But you’re not everything else. You’re everything.”

Tears welled in your eyes before you could stop them. You leaned down, pressed your forehead to his.

“No more shutting me out,” you whispered. “No more doing this alone.”

He squeezed your hand, his grip just strong enough to make you believe in tomorrow again.

Cry Me A River | Masterpost

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst, slight fluff, poly!au, mafia!au, arranged marriage!au

— status: ongoing

— warnings: (triggering topics! please read at your own discretion) childhood trauma, mental abuse, allusions to physical abuse, child neglect, manipulation, gaslighting, violence, mentions of assault, hurt and comfort, divorce, emotional neglect, minor character deaths, kidnapping, some emotionally unstable scenes

one. the breaking | you tried so hard to be enough

two. the lie | a house made of cards, they lived in your beautiful fairytale

three. the promise | if you told them about the darkness inside of you, would they still look at you like you're the sun?

four. the gentle heart | keep your heart warm, no matter how cold they have been to you

five. the void | no matter how many times you read a story over and over again, it always ends the same

six. the puppeteer | father wanted perfection, you fell in love with disorder

seven. coming soon...