“ Love Is In The Studio”

WELCOME BACKKK I MISSED YOUR FICS!!!

can i please request a angsty mafia max fic where they are arranged in marriage and get married and he’s distant not cold or rude but he’s just busy and due to a attack he has to leave the reader (his wife) alone with his family esp Jos and the man makes it his personal mission to destroy her and he constantly belittles the reader and makes her feel bad and causes her to have anxiety attacks and max walks in on one of those instances and losses his mind and then gets all protective and angsty confessions idk I hope you write this

A Good Husband

Keep her safe. Keep her safe.

Warnings: Blood, death, murder, mafia au

Standing in the doorway of her bedroom, Max stared at her.

He hadn't been a good husband in the two weeks they had been married. Cold and distant, the man the rest of the world thought he was. Not the man he knew himself to be.

He stared at her. His wife, his ring on her finger.

If he had been given more time, if he had been allowed to fall in love with her, would things have been different? Would she have been sitting in her own room in his house, book in hand as she ignored him? Or would she have been in his lap, reading through her book as Max gripped her hips?

They were supposed to have a serious talk, but Max couldn't bring himself to step inside of her room. Her room. He wasn't going to invade her space if she didn't want him to.

Fuck, what did she think of him? Did she think him a monster? It wouldn't have surprised him if she did. All of the stories told about him, the years of blood on his hands.

A sigh left his lips as he turned around and walked out of the room. She didn't want to see him, he knew it. Their serious talk could wait.

Max returned to his office. Blood stained the furniture, something he didn't care about until now. Now, he hated it. Now, he wanted the bloodied chair gone. Nobody was allowed on that chair, nobody but the cats. Anybody entering his office had to sit in the uncomfortable chairs in front of his desk, or they had to kneel at his feet.

Work was hard when he was thinking about her. It was his fault, her being here. She was the one he had picked out, not quite realising the consequences.

Gunshots.

But that was nothing, there were always gunshots in his house. His men shooting each other was nothing new. As long as nobody got hurt, Max didn't care.

But then they grew louder, closer to his office. That wasn't right.

Grabbing his own gun from his desk drawer, Max left his office. Voice, unfamiliar, hushed whispers, filled the hall. Max followed his instincts, walked down the hall to her bedroom.

Keep her safe. Keep her safe.

Footsteps on the stairs, but Max was quicker. He managed to get into her bedroom before running into anybody. Snapping her book shut, she stared at him. "What?" She almost barked, her face set in a glare.

If Max was gonna be distant, she was going to be cold.

"We need to go," he said quickly, his voice hushed.

Her stony expression became a frown as Max pulled her up.

Footsteps outside of the room. Too late to run.

"Get under the bed," he hissed.

"Max-"

"Just do it!"

She crawled under the bed, panic ringing in her ears. From under the bed, she could see as the door swung open. Gunshots rang out in quick succession, bodies hit the floor. With every lifeless face that fell in front of her, she released a scream.

Four men, piled on top of each other. They all seemed to be staring at her, hands stretched out towards her.

She crawled out from under the bed, another scream leaving her lips as Max grabbed her. "It's okay," he whispered, discarding his gun. "I've got you. You're okay."

His hands smoothed over her hair as he shushed her, did everything he could to sooth her. "I'm gonna get you somewhere safe," Max whispered as she began crying, body shaking as she sobbed.

Somewhere safe. The Verstappen stronghold was the safest place around. High walls, plenty of men and security systems to protect them. With no other choice, that was where Max took his wife.

It was just a shame his father was there.

The Verstappen stronghold. As soon as Max arrived, Jos put him to work. It was just like when he was a boy, working so hard for the approval of the man he could never please.

It was like he had forgotten all of his independence the moment he entered his fathers house. Bowing his head, doing whatever was asked of him. Abandoning his wife to do whatever his father asked of him.

He didn't know that his father was interacting with his wife, didn't know the horrible things being said to her. Why would he know? He hadn't been a good husband, she had no reason to tell him.

The distance was nothing new for them, even if Max hated it.

No, he had to do something about it.

When he walked into the tiny room that had be given to her, he didn't expect her to be crying. She had been so tough up until that point, so damn resilient through everything. But, now, she was crying.

"Hey," he said gently as he strode over to her. Carefully, he unfound her arms from around her legs and pushed his fingers through her hair, trying to get her to lift her head. "What's the matter?"

She tried to speak, but no words left her lips. Max did the only thing he could think of and pulled her to lay against her chest. He didn't know how cruel his father had been, hadn't quite fathomed that to be a possibility.

"I know its been hard," he whispered, fingers moving down her back. "I don't want our marriage to be like this, this terrible. I want to to a good husband to you."

Another sob shook her body as she turned towards him. Her arms found their was around his neck.

"I chose you," he whispered, his lips finding the top of her head. "I'm going to show you why."

Her hands fisted his white shirt. "Don't let him come near me," she said through her sobs. "Get me away from him, Max, please!"

"Who?" He asked, every movement still soothing.

"Your father."

Max didn't need to hear anything else. If his wife wanted to get away from Jos, Max would get her away.

You all know I love my mafia aus (literally wrote a mafia au novel) - anyway, requests are opeeeen

Moonlit Throne | Masterlist

“do you… trust me?” it’s a low whisper, soft lips pressed against the stuttering pulse in your throat. but you think, or maybe you hope, the implications are trying to delve much deeper into your heart. regardless, your answer has never wavered. 

“yes.”

pairing: joseon king!yoongi x reader genre: smut, angst, fluff parts posted: 40/45 words: 57.6k/? contains: drabble series, historical au, royal au, the very definition of “it’s complicated,” inspired by daechwita. a/n: please pay attention to the dates, but read in the order that the drabbles are listed, not in chronological!

historical context/references. | fic playlist.

february 1869 {m} - your king takes care of you and his business, no matter who is watching.

Keep reading

main masterlist \\ f1 masterlist

-----------------••✩💙💬🫂✩••----------------

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫?

✩ : the f1 drivers giving more attention to your brother than you

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭. : max verstappen, lando norris, charles leclerc, oscar piastri, carlos sainz, lewis hamilton + special guest... franco colapinto!

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : humor, suggestive in some parts

✍︎ : *insert the lion king song here* (no i haven't seen the movie yet 🙃)

-------------------------❦︎-------------------------

-----------------••✩💙💬🫂✩••----------------

©italiangirlcoresblog // do not copy, rewrite, or translate any of my work on any platforms

secrets are no fun (unless shared with everyone)

smau + real life

lewis hamilton x !sister reader

hamilton reader x max verstappen

ayana hamilton, the younger sister of seven-time world champion lewis hamilton, has seemingly achieved everything she could ever desire— a successful career as a music producer and artist, been all around the world, has a supportive family and a loving husband—however, that’s a secret that no one, not even her brother, knows about—her husband is also an f1 driver. lewis has always made it his mission to prevent ayana from dating a driver— but is it technically considered dating if they are married? ;)

fc: tyla ! 🌸

(sza will be used as ayana’s best friend so when i say solana— our queen miss sza)

thank you to @babygirl-4986 for the idea for this series and i am so excited to write for you guys :)

—

vegas grand prix 2024

mercedes 1-2– as a little sister I am beaming with excitement for lewis but a part of me is wondering where max is after getting p5. i knew how hard he could be on himself sometimes. he was still leading the championship but it seemed as if that wasn’t enough sometimes. i stood in the crowd next to my best friend, solana, she was the only one who knew about max and i, she had been with me through everything. i have actually been trying to set her up with lewis for the longest time— they are both oblivious to my actions but maybe one day it would work. i took out my phone to start recording as george walked out first, i began cheering for him and waved to him— he smiled down and waved back. lewis came out next with a proud smile on his face and I cheered extra loud and solana blew him a kiss in which he returned and he waved at me. the british national anthem began and before you knew it there was champagne all over the place. i grabbed solana’s hand and we made our way through the huge crowd, stopping to take some photos with fans. as we made it through the crowd, i reached for my phone to text max.

how are you doing my love? where are uuu?

I slipped my phone into my back pocket as Lewis approached us. I reached out and wrapped my arms around him and he gave me a squeeze. He pressed a gentle kiss on my temple.

“I’m so proud of you, Lew. Always. You did amazing out there.” I said and he let go of me with a smile.

“I always do better when my wonderful sister is here to cheer me on..and her beautiful best friend.” He states and turned to Solana pulling her into a big hug, a light blush settling on her face.

“And what are you lovely ladies up to for the rest of the night?” Lewis asked and Solana shrugs my way.

“Honestly, not sure.” She said and Lewis smiled.

“How about some drinks?” He asked as I reached for my phone.

doing ok, schat. would be better if I could see that beautiful face.

“You guys go, have fun. I’ll catch up later, I just have some business to handle.” I said with a smile and Solana gave me a knowing look.

“Alright, see you later, be safe please.” Lewis said with a quick side hug.

“Of course, love you guys.” I said and sent them both a smile.

meet me in the lot in five angel

on my way pretty girl

I started walking to his car rather quickly, thankfully fans could not get in this area so we were able to be alone for a moment. I leaned against the sleek black SUV, the cool desert night brushing against my skin. I spotted Max a few feet away, dressed down in a black hoodie and some jeans. He approached me with a small smile, wrapping his arms around my waist, mine reaching around his neck.

“I swear every time I see you all my problems just fade, schat. Your beauty makes me forget everything.” He hummed with a love drunk smile upon his face.

“I feel the same way about you, my love.” I say pulling him into a soft kiss that lasted for a few moments.

“Marry me.” He murmured. I pulled back, stunned, slightly in shock.

“What did you say? Max are you drunk?” I ask and he chuckled slightly.

“No, Liefde. Let’s get married, right here, right now.” He stated again and I smiled at him.

“Let’s get you to the hospital. Did you hit your head getting out of the car?” I ask and he takes my hand.

“Mooi meisje, just listen to me. You are the one for me, I have known that since you walked into my life. Everyday I look forward to getting up to be with you and spend the day with you. Normally with a P5 result, I’d be sitting, sulking and thinking about what I could have done better but today I didn’t care— I don’t need to race— I don’t need the championships but I do need you— you’re the love of my life, yana.” He stated and I feel tears start to well in my eyes.

“Max, I-I love you so much. I need you.” I said wrapping my arms around him extra tight, I feel him squeeze my waist.

“So marry me, Yana. You’ll have me forever.” He whispered.

“Okay, let’s do it.” I said with a huge smile and Max lifted me up in the air. He pressed the biggest kiss to my lips. He pulled a small red box out of his sweatshirt and popped it open. I gasped slightly at the beautiful ring and he took the ring out gently and reached for my hand. He left a kiss across my knuckles and gently slid the ring onto my finger. It was absolutely stunning— everything I could’ve wanted in a ring.

“I know this isn’t the most ideal place for this but I could marry you while standing inside of a dumpster and I would still be overjoyed and we can always have a ceremony later-“ I interrupted his rambling by placing my hand on his cheek.

“Max— this is perfect. I don’t care how it happens as long as I get to spend forever with you.” I said and he smiled.

“Now let’s go get married, champion.” I teased and he hurriedly opened the car door for me and rushed to the drivers side.

—

I had changed into one of Max’s hoodies and put on a hat and some larger frame sunglasses. Everyone in the city is either drunk or too distracted from the race but it’s best to be safe. Max had pulled his hoodie over his head and also threw some sunglasses on. He held my hand and looked over at me.

“You really sure about this, Verstappen?” I teased lightly biting my lip.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything, schat.” He said rubbing my knuckles.

“Let’s go then.” I said and hopped out of the car. He came around and wrapped his arm around my waist as we made it inside the chapel. The neon lights flickering above us. It smelled faintly of roses and old wood. The lady at the desk shot us a quick smile.

“Here to get hitched, lovebirds?” She asked as she stood. We stared at each other for a second before nodding.

“Come with me.” She states and led us into the actual chapel. There was a man stood at the end of the short aisle who gave us a sweet smile.

“Mind if we trade your hat out for this?” The lady asked and offered me a veil, I look towards max and he nodded with a smile.

“I think we can do that.” I said and took off my hat and she helped fit the veil into my hair. Max smiled at me and took my hands into his.

“I suppose we are ready now.” The officiant said with a big smile.

“Names?” He asked.

“Ayana Hamilton.” I said and he nodded looking towards Max.

“Max. Max Verstappen.” He nodded and smiled to himself.

“Do you, Ayana Hamilton, take Max Verstappen to be your lawfully wedded husband?” He asked and I nodded.

“I do.”

“And do you, Max Verstappen, take Ayana Hamilton to be your lawfully wedded wife?” He asked.

His eyes never left mine. “I do.”

“By the power vested in me, in the state of Nevada, I now pronounce you both husband and wife. Max, you may kiss your bride.” He said with a smile and Max grabbed my waist and pulled me into a long passionate kiss. It wasn’t rushed, it wasn’t hungry, it was soft and sweet.

We stumbled out of the chapel laughing, my hand wrapped tight in his. The Vegas Strip roared around us, but in that moment, it felt like the world had gone silent.

“You realize Lewis is going to kill me when he finds out, right?” Max said, chuckling as he pulled me into his arms.

I grinned, resting my forehead against his chest. “Maybe. But you’ll survive. You’re a world champion, remember?”

He tilted my chin up, kissing me again like he had something to prove. “Now I’m the champion of something even better.”

—

present day / max and ayana’s apartment

The late afternoon sun poured through the windows of our Monaco apartment, casting a warm, golden glow over the hardwood floors. I sat cross-legged on the bed, half-folded clothes scattered around me in a chaotic mess. Max leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching me with an amused smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“You’re packing like we’re moving across the world, not like you’re just spending four days with Lewis,” he teased, nodding toward the three overstuffed suitcases.

I tossed a hoodie at him. “It’s not just four days. It’s Lewis. You know how he is — there will be fancy dinners, training sessions, impromptu yacht trips. I have to be prepared for anything.”

Max caught the hoodie with one hand, laughing. He crossed the room in a few steps and sat down beside me, plucking a pair of sunglasses from my pile and perching them on my head. “You’re gonna miss me,” he said, mock-sulking.

I looked at him over the rim of the sunglasses. “Of course I’m gonna miss you,” I said, pushing them up into my hair. “Who else is going to steal my snacks and hog the blanket at 3 AM?”

He chuckled, reaching out to tuck a loose curl behind my ear. “You know you could just stay,” he murmured, teasing but a little serious too.

I leaned into his touch for a second, then grinned. “If I cancel on Lewis now, he’ll definitely figure out we’ve been married for a year and didn’t tell him.”

Max groaned dramatically, flopping backward onto the bed. “Still can’t believe we’ve kept it a secret this long. You’re a terrible liar, Ayana.”

“And yet, here we are,” I said proudly, zipping one of the suitcases shut.

He reached out and grabbed my hand, tugging me down onto the bed beside him. I landed with a soft laugh, my hair spilling across his chest. He looked down at me, blue eyes soft, thumb tracing lazy circles over the back of my hand.

“I’m proud of you, you know,” he said quietly. “For everything — the tour, the music, surviving this crazy world… and for still picking me.”

My chest squeezed a little at the tenderness in his voice. “Always you, Max.”

—

After I finally managed to wrestle the last suitcase shut, Max stood and stretched, looking all too innocent. Too casual.

I narrowed my eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he said, way too quickly.

Suspicious.

But I let it go. For now. I tugged my duffel bag onto the bed, double-checking I had my headphones, my laptop, my chargers — the essentials. Max wandered over, slipping his arms around my waist from behind and resting his chin on my shoulder.

“Promise you’ll call me every night?” he said, voice dropping to that soft, boyish tone he only ever used with me.

I smiled, resting my hands on his. “You act like I’m going away for a year, not four days.”

“Still too long,” he mumbled.

I twisted around and kissed him quickly. “I’ll call. Pinky swear.”

He grinned against my mouth, stealing one more kiss before finally letting me go. I grabbed my bag and headed for the door, tossing a “Love you!” over my shoulder.

Max winked. “Love you more.”

—

later that night

Lewis, Solana and I had just arrived at the Beach House. I was always insistent on unpacking as soon as we get to the destination. No— before you ask; I am not sure if Solana and Lewis are together. I invited her on this quick trip and Lewis is always willing to have her.

I was digging through my duffel bag, looking for my spare phone charger when my fingers brushed against something unfamiliar.

Frowning, I pulled it out — a small, folded piece of paper with Max’s handwriting scribbled across it.

“For when you miss me too much.”

Taped to it was one of his racing gloves — the very one he wore during the Vegas GP last year, the night we got married.

My throat tightened, emotions bubbling up too fast. Inside the note, he’d written:

“You’re my best win. Always have been, always will be. Come home soon, Mrs. Verstappen.”

I clutched the glove to my chest, a wide, stupid grin breaking across my face.

“Yana-“ Lewis said as he entered the room and I quickly tucked the glove in my suitcase.

“What’s up?” I turned around with a smile.

He gave me a confused but big smile.

“They have dinner prepared for us on the beach, whenever you’re ready.” He said and I nodded.

“I’m just going to get changed and I’ll be out.” I said and he nodded.

“Thank you, Lew. For the trip.” I said and he reached out for a hug.

“Of course, no one else I’d rather have with me.” He said and left the room.

I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text.

got your surprise, mr verstappen. you made me cry. i miss you and love you so much.

you’ll be back in no time, my beautiful wife. enjoy your time with your brother. call me when you can, schat. i love you even more

I smiled and plugged my phone in. I quickly changed into a sundress and slipped on some sandals. I added a few pieces of jewelry and left the room. Lewis was standing behind the counter in the kitchen as Solana stood across the counter from him as she was showing him tik toks— he finally got the app he just doesn’t understand the humor yet.

“Showing Gramps how to use Tik Tok?” I questioned with a smirk and they both smiled at me.

“Mmm girl you look so good..” Solana reached out her hand and spun me around.

“So do you, my love.” I said and she smiled.

“Well beautiful ladies, shall we?” Lewis asked motioning towards the beach.

“We shall.” Solana said and we all started walking towards the beach.

—

next day

I was sat out on the balcony, having my morning call with Max.

“How are Jimmy and Sassy?” I ask and he smiles before pointing the camera at the two cats who are snuggled together.

“Precious babies.” I murmured with a smile.

“They get it from their mother.” Max said and I chucked.

“Unfortunately I do have a meeting and some training to do so I have to go but enjoy your day and I will talk to you tonight, okay? I love you so much.” Max said and I smiled giving him a small wave.

“Love you more.” I said ending the FaceTime.

“Good morning, Mrs. Verstappen.” Solana joked as she pulled open the sliding door and handed me a juice.

“Not too loud now.” I said and chuckled.

“You both are so cute it makes me sick.” She said taking a seat next to me.

“I appreciate it and I appreciate you helping to keep it on the low. You are like one of the only people I can trust.” I state leaning into her shoulder. She leaned her head on top of mine.

“I always got you, boo. Forever.” She says with a smile.

—

The sun was sinking low over the water, casting a soft orange glow across the beach. I lay sprawled out on a lounge chair, toes buried in the warm sand, a half-finished book resting on my chest. Roscoe was asleep in the sand beside me, head resting on my leg

Lewis plopped down beside me with his usual lack of grace, sending a small spray of sand and water onto my towel.

“Nice, Lew,” I said, brushing it off and giving him a look.

He grinned like a kid caught sneaking cookies before dinner. “You needed a little excitement. You’ve been way too chill lately.”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t hide my smile. “Maybe I’m finally learning to relax.”

“Doubt it,” he teased, stretching out beside me. “But hey, you have been different lately. Happier. Calmer. It’s good.”

I glanced at him over my sunglasses. “You saying I was a nightmare before?”

He laughed, tossing a grape up into the air and catching it in his mouth. “Not a nightmare. Just…intense. Always working, always moving. It’s nice to see you actually taking time for yourself.”

I tucked my arms behind my head, feeling the warm breeze drift over us. Lewis had a point — for once. Things with Max had changed me in ways I hadn’t even realized until now. But Lewis, blissfully unaware, just thought I was finally taking better care of myself.

“Guess I just figured out what matters,” I said lightly, smiling at the horizon.

Lewis nodded, not prying for once. “Whatever it is, keep it up. You deserve to be happy, Yana.”

He nudged my foot with his. “Also, when are you dropping that new album? You’ve been teasing it for months.”

I laughed. “Soon. You’ll get the first copy. I might even sign it for you, if you’re lucky.”

He gave me a dramatic bow from his lounge chair. “An honor, Miss Hamilton.”

We both cracked up, the easy, familiar laughter filling the air like it always had when we were kids. No pressure. No cameras. Just a brother and a sister, a beach, and the feeling that everything — at least for today — was exactly how it was supposed to be.

—

tonight was a big reason we are on this trip— Lewis, Solana and I were going to make a few drinks at a local bar in the middle of the city to promote his new non alcoholic tequila brand.

The tiny bar was packed, the air buzzing with laughter, music, and the clink of glasses. Fairy lights strung up across the ceiling gave the whole place a warm, golden glow. Somewhere in the back, a DJ was spinning laid-back tracks, and every table was decorated with little cards featuring Almave — Lewis’ new tequila brand.

“Alright, team,” Lewis said, clapping his hands behind the bar like we were about to run a full Michelin-star service. “We’ve got three goals tonight: pour good drinks, have fun, and make my tequila look like the greatest thing to ever happen to planet Earth.”

I laughed, tying an apron around my waist. “You’re lucky Sol and I love you, because this is not what I thought I’d be doing on vacation.”

Solana leaned over the bar with a wink. “Girl, we are the party. Plus, free drinks.”

Lewis threw an arm around each of us, grinning wide. “Exactly. The dream team.”

We got to work, pouring shots, shaking cocktails, and posing for selfies with fans who couldn’t believe Lewis Hamilton, Ayana and SZA were bartending in a random coastal bar. Every so often, Lewis would dramatically present a bottle of his tequila with both hands like it was a sacred relic.

“Only the finest!” he announced to a group of guys at the bar, pouring them shots with a flourish.

Meanwhile, Solana mixed up a custom cocktail she invented on the spot — something fruity and spicy — and by the second round, she had people lining up to try it.

I handled the crowd like a pro, sliding drinks down the bar, laughing when one almost toppled off the edge. “First one’s free if you can catch it!” I called, making the bar explode in cheers.

Every few minutes, Lewis would bump his shoulder into mine, and Sol would lean over to crack a joke, and it felt… normal. No paparazzi, no pressure. Just us, doing something wild and silly because we could.

At one point, Lewis grabbed the mic by the DJ booth. “Big thanks to everyone for coming out tonight! And remember,” he said, holding up a glass, “life’s too short to drink bad tequila. Cheers!”

The whole bar roared back in a toast, and we clinked glasses behind the counter, grinning like idiots.

Later, as the crowd started to thin and the neon signs flickered a little softer, Solana leaned her head on my shoulder and sighed happily.

“Tell me why this is one of the best nights I’ve had in forever,” she said.

I smiled, wiping down the bar. “Because it’s not about the tequila. It’s about us.”

Lewis slung an arm around both of us again, his face flushed from laughing so much. “Nah, it’s definitely the tequila,” he said with a wink.

And for the first time in a long while, I realized just how lucky we were — messy, chaotic, ridiculous — but lucky all the same.

—

f1gossipgirls posted!

25,368 likes

f1gossipgirls : Lewis Hamilton, Ayana Hamilton and SZA all spotted bartending at a small bar in Riviera Maya, Mexico to promote his new tequila brand— Almave!

—

username : omg all my faves

username2 : love them so much— having fomo rn

username5 : the Hamilton genes are so strong

username7 : they are so beautiful fr

username9 : sza is toooo

username7 : true true

username8 : my brother met them last night and said they are all so sweet— he said Ayana gave him like 5 free drinks for him and his friends lmao😭

liked by author

username10 : omg so jealous

usernameee : just a question but why is sza with them??

f1gossipgirls : she has been a good friend of ayana for years and her and lewis have been linked multiple times

—

texts !

saw some videos of you bartending

you are so hot

come home now please

be home tomorrow pretty boy

don’t get too excited without me

—

ayanaaa

riviera maya, mexico 📍

liked by sza, lewishamilton, scuderiaferrari & 4,357,975 others.

ayanaaa : thankful for lew, sol, roscoe, mexico and almave

tagged : lewishamilton, roscoelovescoco, sza, almave

—

roscoelovescoco : loves yous aunt yayas!!

liked by author

ayanaaa: love my roscoe<3

username : lewis calling her aunt yaya is so cute

sza : the best time with my best fransssss🌎🍃🌱🌊💙

liked by author

ayanaaa : love ya my sollll

lewishamilton : so glad you came — love you sis ❤️

liked by author

ayanaaa : love you more

scuderiaferrari : our faves 😻😻

liked by author

ayanaaa : ferrariiii my love — season passes for Miss Solana?

scuderiaferrari: absolutely! you are both welcome always 💋

liked by author and sza

carmenmmundt : you are so beautiful ayana. i miss you so much!

liked by author

ayanaaa : miss you more carms

alexandrasaintmleux: 😻😻😻😻

liked by author

—

The front door clicked softly behind me as I stepped inside, the familiar scent of cedarwood and fresh linen wrapping around me like a hug. My suitcase thudded quietly on the floor, but before I could even call out, I heard footsteps — quick, eager — from the hallway.

Max appeared, barefoot and in sweatpants, hair messy like he’d just rolled out of bed even though it was early evening. His whole face lit up the second he saw me, and the ache of missing him hit me all at once.

“You’re home,” he said, voice low and full of relief.

I barely had time to nod before he crossed the room in three quick strides, sweeping me into his arms. I dropped my bag and wrapped myself around him, breathing him in — the faint scent of his cologne, the comfort of home.

“I missed you,” I mumbled into his shoulder.

He pulled back just enough to look at me, his blue eyes so soft it made my chest tighten. “You have no idea how much.”

He kissed me — slow, lingering, like he was making up for every second we’d been apart. I melted into him, smiling against his mouth.

When we finally broke apart, he brushed a strand of hair behind my ear and whispered, “No more trips without me.”

I laughed, trailing my fingers lightly over his jaw. “Tell that to my brother next time he drags me on a ‘bonding adventure.’”

Max chuckled, pressing another kiss to my forehead. “Deal. Next time, I’ll just come with you. Hide in your suitcase if I have to.”

He reached for my duffel, slinging it effortlessly over his shoulder with one hand and threading our fingers together with the other.

“Come on,” he said, tugging me toward the living room. “I made your favorite — pizza and that terrible show you love.”

“My terrible show is a masterpiece,” I corrected with a grin.

“Right, right,” he said, squeezing my hand. “Masterpiece.”

We curled up together on the couch, my legs thrown over his lap, his arm tucked firmly around my waist like he couldn’t bear to let go. The TV played in the background, but all I could focus on was the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under my cheek.

—

p1 of this series complete! let me know what yall think and any suggestions for the next part and as always requests are always open! 💋

vincenzo x chayoung - love dive

- streamer au | smau and narrative fic

- pretentious gamer Joon x soft gamer reader (fem and poc)

- e2f2l, eventual fuck buddies | fuckboy!Joon (kinda) | angst, smut (mostly implied later on), fluff

~ You were doing just fine, playing your sims and animal crossing games, having a good time in the corner of the internet you have created for yourself, when Kim Namjoon comes barreling through. He’s dead set on destroying any comfort you may have found in the gaming community, but you’re not gonna let him get away with it. Contrary to his belief, you can strategize an attack better than he expects. 🎮

Keep reading

on that night, when you called Yoongi crying because the world had been too much for you, he left everything to go to you. in that same night, when the world seemed to crumble, Yoongi held you in his arms, gluing every piece of you broken heart with his tender love. and you cried yourself to sleep again that night, but Yoongi was with you and he made sure he kissed all your tears goodbye.

the next morning, both of you went along with your separate lives, but at night, when you were so close to fall asleep overwhelmed with everything, you received a text from Yoongi that made your fragile heart realize that maybe, just maybe, there could be love in this cold world.

“ how am i supposed to fall asleep alone now that i know what it feels like to have you in my arms? ”

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.

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

hi! how are you? i was thinking maybe max x reader where reader just needs a hug. like maybe someone has made her feel bad and she just can't help but crumble into his arms, sobbing in his chest. hurt-comfort kinda :)

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 | max verstappen × fem!reader

summary | you come home shattered after a rough day. max sees through your silence, holds you as you break down, and comforts you with quiet love

warnings | emotional distress, crying, hurt/comfort themes, mention of self-doubt/insecurity, soft fluff and vulnerability

word count | 1.3 k

🖇 more mv1 🖇 f1 masterlist

The day had started like any other. You woke up to the sound of your alarm, answered a few messages, even dared to wear that sweater you love so much the one Max always says makes you look “ridiculously adorable.” But as the hours passed, something inside you began to crumble, as if the world was mocking your efforts to hold yourself together.

It started with an offhand comment, one of those disguised as a joke but aimed straight at the heart. It wasn’t the first time someone questioned your place, your decisions, your way of being. But today, it caught you off guard. The words cut deep, right into that corner of your chest where you keep all your insecurities, that place Max tries to fill with his affection, but that sometimes just opens up on its own.

You pretended to be fine. You smiled. You nodded. You even made a joke yourself, as if it didn’t matter.

But it did matter.

It mattered so much that the moment you walked into the apartment you share with Max, everything felt heavy. You dropped your keys on the entryway table, like always, but you didn’t take off your shoes. Or your jacket. You just stood there, back against the wall, feeling your eyes well up with tears without permission.

Max was in the living room, checking something on his tablet—maybe telemetry or a strategy for the next race. When he saw you, his expression changed instantly.

"Love?" he asked softly, setting the tablet aside. "Are you okay?"

You couldn’t answer. You just shook your head, trying to say yes, but your lips trembled and your eyes filled completely with tears.

Max reached you in two steps, quick but unrushed, with that way he has of respecting your space without staying too far.

"Hey… look at me," he whispered, his hands gently cupping your cheeks. "What happened?"

And that was it.

Your body trembled. Your lips broke into a muffled sob. You shut your eyes tight and threw yourself against his chest as if it were the only safe place on earth.

Max held you without another word. His arms wrapped around you with firmness, as if he could hold together all the shattered pieces you were trying so hard to keep intact. His chin rested on your head, and he began to sway you gently, while your tears soaked his shirt.

"You’re here now," he murmured into your hair. "I’m with you. You don’t have to say anything yet."

Your fingers clutched his back as if you were going to disappear, and he simply held you. Patiently. Calmly. Lovingly.

Because sometimes, understanding isn’t what matters. Just being there.

You don’t know how long you stayed like that, in his arms, your face buried in his chest as your world melted into tears. The silence between you was warm, soft, as if Max knew exactly that you didn’t need solutions, just comfort.

When your crying slowly began to ease, you felt his hand stroking your back in slow circles, and his other hand interlaced with yours.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" he asked quietly, no pressure, just leaving the door open for you to step through when you were ready.

You took a deep breath. You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. He wasn’t in a rush he just looked at you with that tenderness that seemed reserved only for you. And then the words began to come, halting, with pauses and knots in your throat.

"It was something stupid…" you murmured, hating how vulnerable you felt. "Someone said something. Like a joke. But it hurt. It made me feel… like I don’t matter. Like everything I do is a joke."

Max frowned. Not in anger toward you, but toward whoever had made you feel that way.

"Who was it?"

You shook your head. You didn’t want to cause trouble. You just wanted the pain to go away.

"It doesn’t matter. It’s just that… I was already holding in so much. And that was like… the last drop."

Max brought your hands to his lips and kissed them slowly, never breaking eye contact.

"Of course it matters," he said, his tone firm but full of care. "Because if something hurts you, then it matters. Don’t let anyone convince you otherwise. You’re not a joke. You’re not less. And if someone made you feel that way, they clearly don’t know who you really are."

His words broke you a little more, but this time in a different way. As if each sentence was unraveling the knot of guilt you carried in your chest.

"Sometimes I feel like I don’t fit in," you whispered. "Like I’m less than everyone else. Like I don’t have the right to be tired, or sad, or hurt."

Max shook his head, eyes locked on yours.

"You have the right to all of that and more. You don’t have to be strong all the time. Not with me. I’m here to hold you up when you can’t anymore. Always."

And then he hugged you again, tighter this time, as if trying to rebuild you from scratch with nothing but his embrace.

"You fit with me," he added, whispering in your ear. "In my life, in my world. And if the world doesn’t see how lucky it is to have you, then the problem is with the world not you."

A silent tear rolled down your cheek, but this time, it wasn’t from sadness.

It was relief.

After that hug, there wasn’t much left to say… but Max still wasn’t ready to let go of you completely.

He helped you take off your jacket, took your hand, and led you to the couch as if you were made of glass—not out of pity, but out of genuine care. He made sure you were comfortable, knelt in front of you, and studied your face for a moment in silence, as if checking for any shadows that still lingered.

"Don’t move, okay?" he asked with a half-smile.

"What are you going to do?"

"Trust me."

And you did.

A few minutes later, the sound of the coffee machine filled the quiet of the house, followed by the soft crinkle of a cookie bag. It wasn’t anything grand. It wasn’t an expensive gift or a surprise trip. But when Max returned to the living room with your favorite cookies, a mug of warm milk, and a blanket in the other hand, you understood something important.

It wasn’t the gesture itself. It was the way.

It was how he remembered what you liked when you were sad. How he knew exactly what to say without pushing. How he looked at you—as if even after seeing you fall apart, you were still his favorite person in the world.

He sat next to you and wrapped the blanket around you with a care that felt like pure love. Then he handed you the mug and settled beside you, pulling you against his chest while his fingers played with your hair.

"Did I tell you today how brave you are?" he murmured suddenly.

You shook your head with a shy smile.

"Well, you are. A lot. But even brave people need to rest. Cry. Feel bad. That doesn’t make them weak. It makes them real."

You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling more at peace than you had all day.

"Thank you, Max."

"Always," he whispered, kissing your forehead. "This is your place. And no one—absolutely no one—has the right to make you feel otherwise."

He didn’t respond with more words. He didn’t need to. He just hugged you tighter, let the silence speak for you both, and for the first time all day… you felt like you could breathe again.