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mostlysignssomeportents · 2 years ago

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When Facebook came for your battery, feudal security failed

When George Hayward was working as a Facebook data-scientist, his bosses ordered him to run a “negative test,” updating Facebook Messenger to deliberately drain users’ batteries, in order to determine how power-hungry various parts of the apps were. Hayward refused, and Facebook fired him, and he sued:

https://nypost.com/2023/01/28/facebook-fires-worker-who-refused-to-do-negative-testing-awsuit/

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/05/battery-vampire/#drained

Hayward balked because he knew that among the 1.3 billion people who use Messenger, some would be placed in harm’s way if Facebook deliberately drained their batteries — physically stranded, unable to communicate with loved ones experiencing emergencies, or locked out of their identification, payment method, and all the other functions filled by mobile phones.

As Hayward told Kathianne Boniello at the New York Post, “Any data scientist worth his or her salt will know, ‘Don’t hurt people…’ I refused to do this test. It turns out if you tell your boss, ‘No, that’s illegal,’ it doesn’t go over very well.”

Negative testing is standard practice at Facebook, and Hayward was given a document called “How to run thoughtful negative tests” regarding which he said, “I have never seen a more horrible document in my career.”

We don’t know much else, because Hayward’s employment contract included a non-negotiable binding arbitration waiver, which means that he surrendered his right to seek legal redress from his former employer. Instead, his claim will be heard by an arbitrator — that is, a fake corporate judge who is paid by Facebook to decide if Facebook was wrong. Even if he finds in Hayward’s favor — something that arbitrators do far less frequently than real judges do — the judgment, and all the information that led up to it, will be confidential, meaning we won’t get to find out more:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/12/hot-coffee/#mcgeico

One significant element of this story is that the malicious code was inserted into Facebook’s app. Apps, we’re told, are more secure than real software. Under the “curated computing” model, you forfeit your right to decide what programs run on your devices, and the manufacturer keeps you safe. But in practice, apps are just software, only worse:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/23/peek-a-boo/#attack-helicopter-parenting

Apps are part what Bruce Schneier calls “feudal security.” In this model, we defend ourselves against the bandits who roam the internet by moving into a warlord’s fortress. So long as we do what the warlord tells us to do, his hired mercenaries will keep us safe from the bandits:

https://locusmag.com/2021/01/cory-doctorow-neofeudalism-and-the-digital-manor/

But in practice, the mercenaries aren’t all that good at their jobs. They let all kinds of badware into the fortress, like the “pig butchering” apps that snuck into the two major mobile app stores:

https://arstechnica.com/information-technology/2023/02/pig-butchering-scam-apps-sneak-into-apples-app-store-and-google-play/

It’s not merely that the app stores’ masters make mistakes — it’s that when they screw up, we have no recourse. You can’t switch to an app store that pays closer attention, or that lets you install low-level software that monitors and overrides the apps you download.

Indeed, Apple’s Developer Agreement bans apps that violate other services’ terms of service, and they’ve blocked apps like OG App that block Facebook’s surveillance and other enshittification measures, siding with Facebook against Apple device owners who assert the right to control how they interact with the company:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/10/e2e/#the-censors-pen

When a company insists that you must be rendered helpless as a condition of protecting you, it sets itself up for ghastly failures. Apple’s decision to prevent every one of its Chinese users from overriding its decisions led inevitably and foreseeably to the Chinese government ordering Apple to spy on those users:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/11/foreseeable-consequences/#airdropped

Apple isn’t shy about thwarting Facebook’s business plans, but Apple uses that power selectively — they blocked Facebook from spying on Iphone users (yay!) and Apple covertly spied on its customers in exactly the same way as Facebook, for exactly the same purpose, and lied about it:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/14/luxury-surveillance/#liar-liar

The ultimately, irresolvable problem of Feudal Security is that the warlord’s mercenaries will protect you against anyone — except the warlord who pays them. When Apple or Google or Facebook decides to attack its users, the company’s security experts will bend their efforts to preventing those users from defending themselves, turning the fortress into a prison:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/20/benevolent-dictators/#felony-contempt-of-business-model

Feudal security leaves us at the mercy of giant corporations — fallible and just as vulnerable to temptation as any of us. Both binding arbitration and feudal security assume that the benevolent dictator will always be benevolent, and never make a mistake. Time and again, these assumptions are proven to be nonsense.

Image: Anthony Quintano (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Mark_Zuckerberg_F8_2018_Keynote_%2841118890174%29.jpg

CC BY 2.0: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en

[Image ID: A painting depicting the Roman sacking of Jerusalem. The Roman leader's head has been replaced with Mark Zuckerberg's head. The wall has Apple's 'Think Different' wordmark and an Ios 'low battery' icon.]

Next week (Feb 8-17), I'll be in Australia, touring my book *Chokepoint Capitalism* with my co-author, Rebecca Giblin. We'll be in Brisbane on Feb 8, and then we're doing a remote event for NZ on Feb 9. Next is Melbourne, Sydney and Canberra. I hope to see you!

https://chokepointcapitalism.com/

#pluralistic #manorial security #feudal security #apple #mobile #apps #security through obscurity #binding arbitration #arbitration waivers #transparency #danegeld #surveillance lag

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billskeis · 11 months ago

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can you pls do like a one bed situation ( enemies to lovers ) with 2007 tom and ofc they do it☺️

ᡣ𐭩 sharing a bed w tom

“what!?” the two of you said simultaneously to then glare daggers into each other. both you and tom groaned in disapproval when the receptionist explained that the room you booked for only contains one bed.

there was no other way around such a situation.

your class was going out for high-school trip to the mountains. for majority of the day, you explored the small town and shops with your girlfriends while tasked with an ‘educational aspect’ of it.

none of the students cared much for it honestly.

strangely, your friend group and tom’s friend group were constantly running into each other. and as much as you and tom hated it, the friends of the two groups didn’t.

the continuous pick-up lines, slight touching, teasing. it drive you nuts.

“ugh, i’m gonna fucking throw up…” you pretended to gag as you watched one of your friends hug a boy with black semi-spiked hair. eyeshadow rings around his eyes that curve into a smile just like his mouth.

cheesy ass hoes.

“lighten up y/n! besides, tom’s been staring at you quite a bit,” emily, your best friend being too loud, you hear a scoff coming from somewhere next to you. “as if, i would rather suck on a horse’s foot than be with y/n” tom rolls his eyes as you cross your arms.

“at least i don’t look like a fucking horse’s foot..”

tom’s mouth gapes at your comment “what the fuck did you call me!?” “you heard me bitch!” this led the two of you to bicker and it almost threatens to become physical.

the two of you literally had to be stopped by emily and the now spiked hair boy who you later found out his name was bill, his twin and clearly more logical and cooler brother.

“they argue like an old couple,” gustav mumbles, “they’re gonna do such great things in the future…” georg adds in.

beforehand, you were each given a room number and a key to the hotel room you would be staying in for a few days. as the teachers and staff declared it a night, all students were to head to their assigned rooms.

as you made your way to the front desk, you see a particular dread-head already there.

you roll your eyes so hard you swear they went to the back of your head, but you’re too tired to fight this guy, having already gotten your hits in a few hours earlier.

“room 483?” you questioned the lady working behind the desk (get it ;D) as she types into the computer, “that can’t be your fucking room,” tom makes a jab at you but you’re clearly not in the mood for it, “and why the fuck not?”

“because that’s my room.”

you drop the keycard on the table.

the both of you then glare at the receptionist who’s already clearly in cold sweats due to the tense and thick atmosphere the air is bringing.

“okay—there’s clearly been a mix-up with your card tom because that’s my room.” “uhh i don’t think so kleine, look at my key card.” he drops it onto the table beside yours, the two of you analyze the numbers imprinted onto the plastic.

it’s the same exact goddamn keycard.

you sigh heavily, body achy, all you wanted was to rest, but in no way were you going to share a room with someone you hate down to your core.

“well is there at least two beds??” tom asked, he looks just as tired as you and at this point the bickering needs to come to an end. the both of your bodies are now leaned into the front desk, impatiently waiting for an answer. why the hell is this lady taking so long to answer a yes or no question??

she purses her lips, slowly shaking her head.

“what!?” you both managed to scream out at the same time.

she then explains because the rooms were intended for one student only, the rooms with singular beds were all booked. “are there any other rooms available??” yet again, she shook her head side to side.

you swear you were going to smack her so hard her head was gonna fly off her body even though it wasn’t her fault.

“i can’t fucking believe this, are you kidding me!? can’t even do your job and compensate us for something we paid for!?” you were so angry. you pointed your finger at her and just continued to berate her.

angry and tired, it wasn’t a good combination on you, it led you to become extremely irrational. losing total control of your actions, that was until a hand grabbed yours and squeezed it gently.

“y/n.. please.. can we just check in..? i’ll sleep on the floor—or the couch if there even is one—just, stop.. okay? how’s that sound.” this was a side of toms you’ve never seen of his in the past four years.

it reminded you of how soft and gentle he was when you first met freshman year.

you bit your lip, immediately regretting how you acted. like a douchebag, she was just doing her job. it wasn’t in her intentions to mess the rooms up for you, but you blamed her anyway.

your head hung low, to ashamed to apologize, you just instead slammed your hand on the desk to grab the two keycards and made your way towards the elevator.

tom followed behind after mouthing a ‘sorry’ to the receptionist who acknowledged his apology for you, immediately going back to her job.

as you exit the washroom, you see tom already laying on the floor, using whatever clothes he had packed to form a make-shift bed. he tosses and turns in attempts to get into a comfortable position that would allow him to sleep. you raised your eyebrow at him, what is he doing?

that was until you quietly crept your way to the closet to check for any extra blankets or pillows hotels normally provide to you.

nothing, nada. empty.

i swear to god you’ll never ever book a trip here again, you make a mental note to yourself if you were to ever want to take some time off in the future.

you inhale sharply, and exhale deeply. with every inch of your body, you cannot believe you’re doing this right now, “tom,” you called out. all you heard was a hum from across the room to acknowledge you, “sleep on the bed,” “i’m not gonna make you sleep on the floor y/n—” “well of course i’m not sleeping on the floor, we’re sharing the bed.”

tom sat up so quick in disbelief to what he’s hearing, “a-are you sure..?” “yes, tom, it’s fine.. we’ll just pretend none of this happened in the morning, got it?” he nods at your request and gets up from the floor.

the both of you enter the bed at the same time, the covers were so warm. your lamp was the only light source that lit up the hotel room. turning it off, the only source of light now was the moon that shone dimly through the windows.

you felt at peace, adjusting yourself to slowly drift into sleep.

however that peace was short-lived as you stretched your backside to hit the only other figure that was in the bed with you.

“shitfuck, sorry tom i didn’t mean to—” “to grind your ass on me? yeah right,” you rotate your whole body to now face tom, “okay first of all, don’t be so cocky—woah!” a pair of arms now wrapped around your body and embraced you into a hug.

“god you can’t even imagine how long i’ve been wanting to do this..” hesitantly, you wrap your arms around tom’s neck, taking in his scent. the room is silent, only filled with the heavy breathing that emits from the both of your bodies.

“kleine, i’m so sorry, so sorry for how i acted in the past..” “t-tom.. it’s fine i’m completely over it.” he places kisses all over your cheeks, “no, no it’s not baby lemme make it up to you yea?” he plays with the hem of your shorts, teasing you in wanting to take them off.

“i’m tired tom,” “pleaseplease just let me do this for you okay? you don’t have to do anything i just—just wanna show you how much i’m sorry for making you hate me..”

nodding, tom smiles and kisses you once more this time on the lips. he drags both your shorts and underwear down your legs shortly doing the same with his sweatpants and boxers down to his mid-thigh.

damn, he must be really turned on, the way you felt his hard on rest between your legs.

lining up his dick, tom slowly pushes into you. hissing at the slight burn from tom’s size. he’s always been big, and you’ve done it before, “god.. how long has it been? weeks? months? but you still remember the shape of this dick in you..”

you choke on a moan at you try to retaliate tom, his words embarrass you. but he’s right, ever since the two of you broke up you’ve been abstinent. he makes it sound as though he’s messed with other people. but little did you know, he’s the same. never fucked since the breakup.

“s-shut up..” “you’re right, ‘m sorry this is supposed to be my apology to you,” he thrusts hard and deep despite the awkward position, the both of you in a spooning position he attempts to find a good angle to fuck you in.

body sensitive, your stomach clenches as electricity travels within your core, a string threatening to snap at the way tom drags his dick inside of you, ensuring you feel every inch of him in you.

he’s handsy. his hands roam around and drag across your body. you shiver under his touch. the way his dick hits your g-spot along with the slight pinching and groping felt all over your body. he plays with your chest, runs his hands up and down your stomach. tom holds onto your wrists from time to time for great leverage in the way he fucks himself into you, desperate.

tom leaves open mouth kisses on your neck and shoulder, all you could do was whine and whimper letting him use your body as he pleases. it’s been so long since the two of you fucked so you feel, everything.

“close, i’m getting close meine kleine, tell me you forgive me,” his thrusts become a little faster, clear that he’s chasing his orgasm the same as you, adding more to the heat as you grind your hips on him.

“i-i forgive you tom, fuck! i can’t..” your body convulses as your orgasm washes over your body, clenching onto tom, this quickly leads him to come inside you, unable to pull out with the way you hold onto him so tightly, “fuck! y-y/n..”

riding out the high, tom finally pulls out and slips your bottoms back on, putting on his own right after. he looks up at you but you only hide your face within your hands, embarrassed about the fact that you just fucked your ex-boyfriend after what seems like forever.

but for the plot, am i right?

“i cannot BELIEVE i just did that,” you groaned as tom laughs at you, peeling your hands away from your face. all you can see in the darkness is the glint that lit in tom’s dark brown eyes from the moon and the small reflect of his metal lip piercing that shined from the way his mouth curves into a smile.

“do you regret it??” “no..” “then that’s all that matters,” he places a peck onto your forehead. “one final question,” he chimes in “tom, you already fucked me haven’t you had enough fun??” “yes. but can i just ask?”

“what is it now,” “wanna get back together?”

you said yes.

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel x y/n #tokio hotel x you #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel smut #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz x y/n #tom kaulitz x you #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz smut #2000s #fyp

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kremlin · 9 months ago

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i figure most human behaviour that, not only doesn’t occur in other animals but has zero connection to animal behavior is basically distantly rooted in the known fear of inevitable death. let me be clear. cats and shit don’t know they’re gonna die. we do. we have thoughts. we know it’s coming. we think we’re gonna be rich, bullshit like that, most humans believe in magic and most humans doubt that math is a universal or consistent thing. total nonsense right. but everyone knows their ass is gonna die. before you write me off as some dumbass reciting basic 101 level university lectures just Trust Me I’m An Engineer. anyways. being human and dying are somewhat one in the same.

“if i do nonhuman things i can cheat the reaper.” short and sweet. if i can beat zelda faster than anyone i can outrun the reaper. and you know what, fuck it, i’m scared shitless of dying. it’s gonna hurt really bad no doubt. what if the brain destroyal process makes time slow down in my perception and it’s not just like five seconds of bleeding out or fire ant bites or however you go. Scary. so i’ll play along:

i am an average american man and i enjoy bad game runescape. it’s a computer game. MMO. kill monster get loot. sell what i don’t want to other players for gold. spamming chat with “SELLING BOWSTRINGS 200gp” for an hour “sucks” so the devs add a grand exchange where you can post buy/sell orders for a given item+price to maximize gameplay efficiency and minimize social interaction.

like any other MMO you can pay some sketchy website real money for ingame gold farmer by chinese gold farmers. totally against the rules. remember this

so the first thing that comes to any male aged 23-27 mind is “buy low sell high” basic bitch shit. no good. there’s a 5% tax that’ll wipe out your profit margin intended to eliminate this behavior (you’re supposed to friggen kill monsters). but everyone thinks they’re a genius and can beat the system and that there is a secret george soros style illuminati group that is holding the secrets, blah blah blah, whatever, and this comes as a coping mechanism after losing your shirt after trying to beat the market (success rate of 0%).

here is where people mostly quit thinking: if you do the math, which takes about ten minutes and can be done on one side of a sheet of paper with the most basic calculator, it’s easy to figure out that the amount of gold you’d need to play dirty (buy out all the available Feathers or Fire Runes or whatever) in order to corner the market would be so high that there is no possible way for a character to hold that much without having spent IRL money for gold. you’d get autobanned.

SO..finally, go on the ol’ www.reddit.com, and make a really really professional-to-professional sounding post advertising a “service”. Saturate the fuck out of it with dense but very real financial jargon. the “service” (which needs to be obscured enough with plausible and relevant language) is a hedging service aimed at make-believe market players who are buying and selling such huge amounts of items and gold (usually in anticipation of a game update that will speculatively introduce a sudden, dramatic, and capitalizable price change for some item). you need it to be as alien-sounding and foreign as possible but with enough believability and clarity that a handful of reddit jackasses will figure out what the fuck your post is about. whenever pressed further, act totally puzzled and make it very clear that this is not a service relevant to “individual entertainment-motivated” players or some shit. no matter what amount of gold anyone quotes at you, just act puzzled and if that amount is 1/1000th the amount one of your “normal” clients deal with. you need to do all of this extremely artfully. and by “you”, i’ve been meaning to write “me”. really lay it on thick that whatever you’re “doing” is totally unavailable to them and that you want zero to do with them.

so now theyre still mostly totally confused but enough is made clear that their interest is piqued. got my hook in em. some guy will copy/paste wikipedia shit in an obnoxiously long and pseudointellectual, contemptible but characteristically reddit guy style what you’re “selling” actually is in the most exhausting, hand-holdingest way to his fellow reddit gamers. with complete tone of authority.

inevitably one of them will put on their sherlock holmes hat and go deep undercover, emailing me posing as an interested party. bingo. now i get to really lay on the WTF and go off the rails asking about vouchers from One Of The Big Seven, but oh no, you can’t get one of them to vouch for you, that’s fine, it makes sense, we’re the only firm that deals with unvouched, that’s our market, well, one of them at least. Just give me a rough rundown of your entry criteria, dwell time, risk tolerance, fuckin “Gamma Ratio”, you know, all the basic stuff, and i’ll have the team generate a .xlsx for you to plug your data into to get a rough feel for what the final contract might be like.

(lololol) But REMEMBER, that excel sheet is seeded, output is fuzzed and salted and if you share it or try and sell it to our competitors, it will be fuzzy enough to be worthless to them but obvious to us who leaked what. this is the only way we’re able to integrate unvouched clients without untenable premiums and while managing our risk levels

blah blah blah blah, i go on and on and on and the guy on the other end is developing a scab from constant head-scratching. and that’s about the maximum real-world harm i’m willing to inflict. i know this sounds like an elaborate as fuck confidence scam but it isn’t. that shit makes me sick. i’d literally slam my arms in a car door before taking a cent from all this. hell, i’ll go out of my way to guarantee i don’t even piss anyone off or offend them or anything.

your guess is as good as mine but i do stuff like this constantly for anything i know well enough and the example i gave above is just a pretty low quality one i made up on the spot. this is a public blog after all.

anyways, cheers, hoping this saves me from dying or whatever the hell i was talking about before that could have probably been cut out. Namaste. Mahala.

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annisassintchaska · 8 months ago

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Heyy!!! I was wondering can you write a one with Lewis c black reader Toto? Like Toto and reader are married and poly and they have a secret relationship with Lewis and one day Lewis gets injured in a race so she goes to check on him and they assume she’s cheating on Toto until he confesses that there all in a relationship with each other! I don’t know it’s up to you!

The fun part of being in a polyamorous relationship with two of the most popular men in the United Kingdom, is the fact that it was kept a secret from the world as we snuck around; playing hide and seek.

Today is the second to last race of the season as both of my partners prepare themselves for the hectic race ahead. The cars were checked over and both drivers were inspected as to be sure they were fit to drive out in the sun today before everyone started getting dressed and heading to their cars.

I for one always stayed by my husband's side as to not draw suspicion with Lewis; I had a bad feeling about thus race and so I kinda just sticked myself to his side, leaving my husband with George and the computers with analysis that I will never understand.

Walking along the corridors, Lewis and laced ourselves together in a tight hug as he swayed me from left to right. "Promise me you'll be careful?" I asked low but loud enough for him to hear. "I'm always careful sweetheart. I would never be careless when I have you to return to" he said softly as he kissed my forehead.

Time passed and all the drivers were now line up on the grid waiting for the green light that came sooner than I wanted. The race went on with me being extremely anxious, feeling the need to puke everything Lewis had to take a sharp turn in the narrow corners.

TOTO'S POV

Lewis had been going good for the most part, George looks to be a bit struggling and honestly this has been our reality for a while. Y/n has been jerking anxiously beside me as she had made her concern about the race earlier and I'm honestly concerned with her state.

Turning in my seat to speak to Bono, after a minute I heard shouting. Spinning around, I realised that my wife is being held back by some mechanics as she begged them to allow her go out. Swiftly running over and taking her from them, she broke down in my arms crying. "He crashed Torger, I told you we should've had the reserve driver go in today." She referred to Lewis who was just getting out of the car.

Allowing her to go out, she walked straight to the entrance where the safety car would arrive with Lewis, as I went to check on George.

LEWIS' POV

The safety car stopping at the entrance and allowing me to exit, I spotted Y/n running straight for me as she landed in my arms. Hearing her sniffles, I ran my hand over her curls instead of risking to knot my hand into her hair.

Whispering calming words into her ears, I kissed all over her face, stopping at her lips. Unbeknownst to us, camera had actually followed her 6here and the moment was spread live.

Upon returning to the garage, everyone stared as Toto engulfed us into a hug. The post race interviews came with everyone questioning what happen, and for a while I said nothing so everyone's best guess was that Y/n wad having an affair with me and Toto was allowing it.

Fans started trashing her online within seconds and Toto and I could not have that happening so we went to the last inter view together, finally responding to the question "My wife is not having an affair, the three of us are in a polygamous relationship- not that it's any of your business but I would like for y'all to stop slandering my innocent wife's name" Toto answered, stunning everyone as I just stood back and smiled at Y/n who I could see had fallen asleep on the couch at the garage's entrance. Overtime the fans came to term with it and eventually loved seeing all three of us together; there were no more problems.

#lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fluff #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x oc #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #toto wolff #toto wolff imagine #toto wolff x reader

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i-hope-this-is-a-phase · 3 months ago

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Insult to Injury

A Test Drive by Zuesue for @honelle56 (T | WIP | 3k)

#injury recovery #emotional hurt/comfort My contribution to the End of the Summer Fic Exchange. Updates each day until complete

Thank you to @fujogie for sponsoring the collection, and thank you to @jess-total-mess and @dreastmilk for betaing.

Happy reading!

Fic underneath for those who prefer Tumblr over ao3

Dream remembers when George and Sapnap got the UTV.

He's not the greatest at keeping up with Sapnap's streams, but he tries to catch as many as he can. And when both his roommates are participating, he thinks it'd be rude to miss even with all the code he still needs to get done.

When they had gotten home, Dream had asked why they'd gotten a car they wouldn’t use.

“Bro lacks the vision,” Sapnap had said, making George cackle into his hands.

“I don’t lack anything,” he had retorted, which had made George wolf-whistle and Sapnap laugh. “No, shut up. George needs a car he can actually drive so he can learn.”

“He’s stupid too,” George chimed in, and if Dream had chucked a pillow at his head, that’s his business.

“No, no, listen,” Sapnap said. “It has all the shit a regular car has, brakes, steering wheel—”

“Wow, dude knows what’s in a car,” George drawled.

“—and it has a speed cap, so George can get all his fucking driving experience without being a menace to society.”

It had taken some convincing (because UTVs are fucking dangerous according to Dream), but Dream had come around to the idea, even if it was mostly lies so they could have a UTV. And even then, it had been a good source of happiness for them in the following rougher months, which Dream only saw as a positive.

It was a random day in May when George asked if he’d watch them ride it.

“You’re so boring, we’ve been at this all day, and you want to keep working,” George laments.

“It’s not that, I’m almost done—”

“You’ve said that already. Four times.”

Dream pauses and glances away from the monitor to where George sits. There's a computer now in the gym so they can fix code as they work. George is turned toward him in the office chair, and Dream notes the tiredness in his hunched-over posture. They’ve been at this for hours, he will admit, and George has been a great help the whole time. Has been for a while actually. “I have?”

George rolls his eyes, but he smiles. “Idiot,” he says. “Break for tonight. We can start again tomorrow.”

Dream looks back at the monitor. He is really close, he just has to adjust the rendering a tiny bit and—

“Dream.”

He glances over again. George is still smiling, but there’s a no-nonsense look in his gaze. “Please? Just for tonight?”

Dream looks again at George, at the days-old stubble, the hoodie he’s been wearing for two days just so he didn’t have to abandon Dream while he’s been working, and thinks he deserves a break.

He makes a show of rolling his eyes as he gets up.”You just want me to get you food.”

George’s eyes light up, but he still scoffs at Dream. They each have to play their parts. “That’s not true.”

“Is true.” He stretches up, feeling the cracks in his shoulders and spine. “Fuck.”

George laughs. “Bro’s getting old."

“Like you’re one to talk.”

George hunches over and makes a groaning noise. “Oh, I’m Dream, and my poor back hurts from all the dicks in my ass—”

“George!” he exclaims, scandalized, and George laughs again, bright and loud in the space.

“We should do something,” George says.

“Like what?”

“Like, go out, do something active. I’m too tired to sit.”

Dream walks toward George, and the two make their way out of the gym. “How does that even work?”

“Dunno, but my butt’s gonna fall off if we don’t do something.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want you to lose your best asset.”

“Asset. Ass-et. Get it?” He elbows Dream’s side.

“You’re so dumb.” They’ve reached the kitchen, and George beelines for the fridge. He pulls out a bottle of water and (quite dramatically) drinks it all in one chug. “We have a fridge in the gym,” Dream reminds him.

George shakes his head. “Doesn’t taste right.”

Dream doesn’t get it, but he knows George has his quirks, like only wearing a specific brand of sock because it’s “just right” or the way he tidies his sheets but not the pillows when making his bed. “Well,” he says, “since you’re no longer dying of thirst, what do you wanna do?”

George thinks for a minute before he brightens. “Have you seen me drive the UTV yet?”

He hasn’t. Every time George and Sapnap went to mess around with it, he politely excused himself. Although he likes that George is getting "driving" experience, he has his reservations about the safety of it.

Then again, George has been quite accommodating for his antics, so maybe it’s time he returned the favor.

“No, you wanna grab Nick?”

“Yeah!” George runs off, and Dream hopes Sapnap isn’t busy and George isn’t about to terrorize him.

Even if it’s fruitless.

An hour later, Dream sits watching his idiot friends drive up sandy hills on their UTV. The off-roading park allows members to keep their vehicles there, fueled and ready, and since it’s not on Dream’s bill, he’s happy to watch them goof off all night long.

Just then, he sees the UTV careen over a hill and come crashing down thirty feet away.

“Holy fucking shit!” Sapnap yells from the driver’s seat, a wide grin plastered across his face. George whoops beside him, clearly gleeful.

A few seconds later, he sees George and Sapnap undo their seatbelts and make their way over to where Dream is sitting.

“Impressed?” Sapnap asks, breathing heavily.

Dream hums. “Thought George would be driving,” he says, “since it’s his car after all.”

“Am I not good enough for you?” Sapnap gives him a puppy-eyed look.

Dream laughs. “You’re a good driver, Nick.”

“Hell yeah!” he shrieks. George pouts at Dream.

“I’m a good driver too.”

“Not from my point of view,” he says. George meets the challenge with a blaze in his eyes. He smirks.

“Alright.” George walks off, and this time, climbs into the driver’s seat.

Sapnap plops down next to Dream and pulls out his phone, aiming it toward George. “Woo!” he screams. “Kitten’s driving!”

He can see George scoff from where he sits. He takes off, doing a tight turn before hurdling up a hill.

Sapnap cheers beside him, and Dream thinks, This isn’t so bad.

“Dream, look!” he hears. He shields his eyes and looks to where he heard George.

The UTV is now on top of the biggest hill. George is standing next to it, waving.

“I’m gonna go down it!” he yells.

“Do it, pussy!” Sapnap yells back. Dream nudges him for the comment, but he joins the cheering.

George slides into the driver’s seat and straps himself in. Dream hears the motor roar from where he sits, and he watches the UTV gun it down the hill. Sapnap raises his phone higher, most likely to get a better angle as dust billows behind the truck. It speeds down the hill, toward the ground, and—

It happens.

The UTV catches on a rock. It flips.

One.

Two.

Three times.

It slams into a hill.

It stops.

Then, silence.

“GEORGE!”

Dream takes off running toward the UTV. He was wearing his seatbelt, he’s gonna be fine. "GEORGE!"

But then why hasn't he answered yet?

“George, are you good!?” He’s at the UTV. He climbs the hill to get closer. “George?”

George is hanging awkwardly in the harness, barely sitting in the seat anymore. His eyes are open, gazing forward. He's breathing, though. Dream can hear it. He reaches out a hand and presses it against George’s face. It’s an awkward angle, the UTV is slanted on the hill, but he needs to see, needs to feel that George is alright.

George’s face is sticky with dirt and sweat when he presses a hand to his cheek. But it’s still warm and soft like Dream always imagined, and he can feel the breath on his arm.

George blinks, and Dream breathes.

“George.” His other hand brushes the hair out of Georgge’s eyes. “You alright?”

George is still hanging in his harness. Dream leans over to unbuckle him and accidentally nudges George, causing him to hiss.

“Wha—did I hurt you?” Dream asks, pulling back a step.

“Head,” George groans, and something bad curls in Dream.

“Your head...hurts?” George tries to nod but groans again.

“I don’t—didn’t hit it,” George says. Dream gently, ever so gently, cards his fingers through George’s hair to feel for bumps or blood.

He finds nothing, but when Dream looks to George to tell him, he notices something.

Dream looks at people. A long part of his career was watching his friends on streams, and, since his face reveal, he has spent a lot of time memorizing what people’s faces look like outside of a screen. He knows what George looks like, can tell how long his stubble has been growing, when he needs to take George to get a haircut, what he looks like when he's tired, upset, in pain.

As he’s looking into George’s eyes, there’s something wrong. They aren’t focusing on Dream; they’re dazed and unfocused.

And the bad feeling inside Dream gets worse.

“Let’s get you out of there.” He’s careful this time as he leans over and unbuckles George, carefully distributing George’s weight onto him as he pulls him out onto the sand.

At that moment, Sapnap appears.

“I called for help, they’re getting another vehicle to come pick us up and take us to the road,” he says, and Dream loves him.

“Thank you, Nick.” He looks back at George, who’s squinting at Sapnap.

“Look funny,” he says, and Dream chokes.

“And you look stupid.” But there’s a tenderness to Sapnap’s gaze, and Dream understands he’s equally as worried as he is.

A vehicle comes over the hill and stops next to the UTV. With a bit of maneuvering, they get George secured into the back alongside Dream. Dream has his arm slung around George’s shoulder for support as they navigate back to their car.

“We’re gonna get you checked out,” he promises. “We’ll drive straight to a clinic.” George doesn’t respond, but he presses closer to Dream, and that's enough for now.

Time both moves fast and slow as they get George to a doctor. Fast in that it's a blur. Slow as in every bump that makes George wince makes fear twist inside Dream.

He was wearing a seatbelt, he thinks. He’s gonna be okay.

The nurse checking out George is thorough. She asks questions, flashes lights, and writes her findings on a clipboard. She gets George’s details from Dream (he has George’s insurance card saved into his phone) and tells them the doctor will be in soon before she leaves.

George lays on the hospital bed. They turned down the lights in the room, so George isn’t squinting anymore. But, his face still conveys pain.

“My head’s still hurting.”

“The nurse says she can’t give you pain meds just yet.” If he didn't know already that giving pain medication would only slow the nurses down, he would’ve gone to the pharmacy himself to grab some for George. But, his mom’s voice reminds him that pain is often a good symptom of where the hurt is, and so he stays put.

“Don’t worry, George,” Sapnap says. “When we get back, I’ll let you have some of my special gummy bears.” He wiggles his eyebrows, and George snorts.

“Thanks, I guess.” There’s silence for a second. “Did you get it on video?”

“What are you—oh yeah!” Sapnap pulls out his phone and taps in his passcode. “It was kinda sick actually.”

“Can I see?” George tries to sit up, but Dream (ever so gently) pushes him back down.

“No. The nurse said no light until the doctor returns.”

“Oh, c’mon Dream,” Sapnap whines.

“Oh, c’mon, remember? He used to say that.” George has his stupid grin on his face, and Dream is only a bit relieved that he’s at least feeling well enough for mockery.

Just then, the nurse comes back in with what Dream supposes is the doctor.

“Hi everyone!” she says, focusing her attention on the figure in the bed. “You must be George.”

“Yes ma’am,” he says. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Sapnap muffling a laugh.

“I am Dr. Smith. I’m the resident neurologist for this floor.”

“Neurologist,” Dream says. “So it is a brain problem.”

She nods, but there is no tightness to her face when she looks at George. “You seem to have a minor concussion. I was told he was in a car accident?” She looks toward Dream at that.

He clears his throat. “Well, yes and no,” he starts. “He was messing around with our UTV, but he was wearing a seatbelt though, so we didn’t—I didn’t think he’d get hurt?”

She hums. “Concussions don’t necessarily occur because of impact. They occur when the brain bounces around inside the skull.”

“The UTV flipped a bunch,” Sapnap says. “Could that’ve caused it?”

“Yes, that would explain the bruising. I would still be very glad you were wearing a seatbelt, for I’m sure we would be having a very different conversation if he was without it.”

George is still hurt though, Dream’s brain adds. He shakes it off.

Dr. Smith is talking again to George. “We’ll be giving you a list of what you can and can’t do during your recovery. You’ll most likely want to avoid computer screens, TVs, anything with bright lights. You’ll also want to avoid doing anything mentally strenuous for the first few days. We saw a lack of concentration in your testing, so we want to keep on top of that.”

George speaks up: “But, my work—it's all computers and screens.”

Dream turns to George. “We can figure stuff out or take a break,” he assures. “We can pause the project for now.”

George’s face looks pained again. Dream wishes they could give him medicine. “No,” he says, “I can’t, you—”

“We can provide a doctor’s note if necessary, but using electronics will stunt your recovery. For at least two weeks, you need to stay away from screens.”

Two weeks, Dream thinks, as Dr. Smith goes on about migraine recovery. George is gonna hate this.

George looks like he’s hating this. His lips are pressed together in a thin line, and his brows are furrowed. For a moment, Dream wants to smooth the lines out from his face, but he knows now is not the time.

“We’ll be keeping you overnight for observation.” Dr. Smith gives Dream a form. “We’ll get George to a room as soon as a gurney frees up.” She hands him a pen as well. “If you need help, press the call button.”

And with that, the two leave the room. George turns to face the wall.

Dream looks over the form. It’s various medical jargon and information. He starts filling it out while Sapnap goes over to George.

“So, concussion,” he states. Dream hears George scoff.

“Glad you were paying attention,” he snarks over his shoulder.

“Well, since I’ve actually been concussed before, I was going to offer to grab all the usual shit you need, but since you’re being a little bitch—”

“Nick,” Dream interrupts. He would usually let them fight it out, but Dream sees the tense lines in George’s back, and thinks this isn’t the time. Sapnap glances over to him and must see something too because he huffs and backs off.

“Got it,” Sapnap grumbles. He turns back to George. “Want me to grab anything else while I’m out?”

George turns his head back over. “Sushi?” he asks, and Dream can see a glint of mischief.

Sapnap must see it too, because he softly laughs. “Should’ve guessed that.” He grabs his phone and stands up. “I’m assuming you’ll be staying too?” he says to Dream.

Dream nods. It isn’t a question in his mind, but it makes sense why Sapnap asks.

“K, see you at home.” With that, Sapnap walks out, making sure to shut the door quietly behind him.

Dream continues to work on the form while George stares at the ceiling. A few minutes later, a team arrives to help George get up to the observation room. Dream follows dutifully behind, carrying George and his phone.

Once they’re settled in, with George in the bed and Dream sitting in a chair beside him, finally done with the forms, he finally asks the question.

“How are you feeling?”

George continues fiddling with the sheets. The hospital provided pajamas for him, as it was long past the early evening it was when they took the UTV for a spin. The lights are dimmed low, shadows casting across the room and across George’s face.

“Could be better,” he mumbles. “Head still hurts.”

“The nurse gave you pain medication, right?” He’s sure at some point a nurse came in and gave George pills.

“Yeah,” he says. “Still hurts though.”

Dream nods and scoots his chair closer. There’s a beat of silence, then George says, “I’m sorry.”

Dream looks at his face. “For what?”

“The pause—it was only for tonight.”

“The pause,” Dream says again. “You mean…for the project?”

“Yeah,” George mumbles, hunching over slightly as he continues to fiddle with the sheets.

“George, I don’t—I’m not thinking about that right now,” he says. “I’m just so glad you’re okay and that it’s going to be okay.”

George rolls his eyes. “I’m not gonna be able to work for weeks, Dream. How is that okay?”

“Because—okay, look.” He reaches out and grabs George’s hand to stop him from tearing the blanket to shreds. George’s hand falls still under his touch. “The project’s been delayed so many fucking times. One more time is not going to kill us.”

He feels George’s hand twitch under his palm. “But it’s not—it was stopped before because of the code,” he starts. “Not because of—not because I couldn’t help.” He hasn’t met Dream’s eyes yet.

Dream moves and sits on the bed. George’s hand twitches again in his grasp. Dream squeezes it, gentle, soft. “George,” he says, “two weeks is not the end of the world. This stuff, this technology, it’s gonna change the world. It can wait two weeks while my best friend recovers.”

He sees a ghost of a smile flash across George’s face. He presses on: “The nurse says no screens or bright lights for at least two weeks. So, you can’t code. But you can help me render shit, set stuff up once your doctor clears you, or we can sit in bed for two weeks. But all that really doesn’t matter, because I’d rather you get better quicker than you hurting yourself because you want to help me.”

“And I’m fine waiting for you,” he adds. “We’ve already gotten this far, and we’re this close. A two-week break isn’t going to change that. Plus.” He turns to smirk at George. “Weren’t you the one before now who was asking for a break?”

George groans, but he’s smiling now, and that’s all that matters. “Alright,” George says. “If you insist, I guess I could take a break.”

“I’m glad.” He’s smiling now too. George turns his hand over to squeeze Dream’s. Once. Twice. Three times. Dream’s smile grows wider.

“I love you.” Even in the darkness, he can see George’s blush, and it makes Dream’s heart flutter.

“Idiot.” But he’s smiling too, and that’s all that matters.

#rei speaks #dreamwastaken #dream #dtblr #gnf #georgenotfound #DNF #DreamNotFound #Rei recs #fic rec #Rachel speaks #iti

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percervall · 1 year ago

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Mamma mia, here I go again {pt1}

Summary: A summer of poor decisions leads you to having to face the consequences of your actions —and the men involved. Pairing: Kevin Magnussen x fem!reader, Lewis Hamilton x fem!reader, Mark Webber x fem!reader Warnings: talk of pregnancy, brief mentions of a one night stand, mentions of cheating, mentions of abortion Word count: 1.2k Taglist: @averagef1fansblog @barcelonaloverf1life @bradfordbantams @dannyramirezwife @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @jaypreshpresh @laura-naruto-fan1998 @lazybot @norrisleclercf1 @opheliaas-stuff @roseseraj

Part 1 of the Mamma Mia series

“Still not feeling well?” George asks you when he spots you dropping slices of ginger into your mug. You shake your head, trying to breathe through the waves of nausea.

“Had too much to drink again?” he jokes.

“No, God I wish it was just a hangover… Just- Just the consequences of my own actions,” you tip-toe around the subject as you pour the hot water into your mug. You feel George’s eyes on you, can almost hear the gears turning as he tries to figure out what you mean.

“So not a bug or food poisoning, not hungover… Are you-..”

“Yes,” you cut him off, not wanting anyone to hear, “Yes, I am and- and it is what it is.” You feel your shoulders tense up and you will yourself to relax.

“Does Kevin know?”

You shake your head, shame settling heavy in your chest at the mention of your on-and-off-again boyfriend, “No, and I don’t see why he should because I am not keeping it.” Before George can say anything else you leave the coffee station in the motorhome to find solace in your office, praying to whoever will listen that this doesn’t get out.

Your hope is short lived when there’s a knock on your door.

“Come in,” you call out, eyes glued to the screens in front of you.

“Hey,” a voice calls from the doorway and you freeze when you realise who it is.

“H-hey,” you reply, trying your hardest not to turn around.

“Can you please look at me?” You bite your lip and swivel round, pushing your computer glasses up into your hair. Looking up your eyes meet his’.

“Hey,” Lewis says again, a warmth to his eyes you’re having trouble placing.

“Hi,” you manage to utter, voice timid. You know you would’ve eventually have to see him again, working for the same team kind of made it impossible not to, even though both of you had decided to never speak of that night again.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Lewis asks, breaking through the fog of thoughts and memories.

“Tell you what?” You can feel your brows pull together in confusion.

“That you’re pregnant.”

The moment those words leave his mouth, you feel as if someone has pulled the rug from under you.

“Who told you?” you manage to utter as panic rises in your throat.

“George. I overheard him telling Lando and Alex before the press conference.”

“Oh no,” you groan, burying your head in your hands. You can only imagine the gifs and memes that are floating around on social media right now.

“I take it he wasn’t making it up? Come on, talk to me, My,” he says gently, crouching down in front of you. The nickname helps you feel a little more at ease, it having followed you for most of your career ever since you told one of the reporters off for making a sexist comment when you were at RedBull, Mika Häkkinen overhearing you.

“Yes, I am pregnant,” you whisper, “and the reason I didn’t tell you is because-.. I don’t-.. Lewis, I fucked up so bad. I don’t know who the father is.”

The two of you look at one another and you know he is thinking the same as you –the night neither of you regret but promised to never speak about.

“So there’s a chance I’m-..”

You nod, biting your cheek to stop the tears from falling. “But it doesn’t matter. I’m not keeping it, I can’t Lewis.”

“Wait, hold on. Does Kev know?”

You shake your head. Confusion is written all over his face.

“Why?”

“Because I can’t look him in the eye and tell him I cheated. Twice. In the span of 48 hours.”

“Oh Jesus. Damn girl,” Lewis mutters.

“But it’s fine,” you tell him in an attempt to convince yourself and ignore the feeling of shame weighing on you like a ton of bricks, “I have an appointment booked for Tuesday. I’ll be fine.” You wipe your tears away and plaster on a fake smile as you put your glasses back on.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a job to do,” you say, effectively shutting down the rest of this conversation. Just four more days, you tell yourself, you’ve got this, just four more days.

Trying your hardest to keep your head down –and avoid the men that participated in your predicament–, you make your way through the paddock, scrolling through the data on your iPad.

“Skat?” someone calls out to you from your left. There’s only one person you know who would call you that and right now he is the last person you want to see.

“Oh, hi Kev,” you offer meekly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Kevin asks you as he comes to stand in front of you. An unnerving sense of deja vu climbs its way up your spine.

“Didn’t tell you what?” you ask in return. Instead of answering you, Kevin holds up his phone, showing you the still paired Google calendar.

Tuesday 5 September 9:30 BPAS

“Kev-..”

“No, tell me why you didn’t tell me and I had to find out through Google. An abortion provider, really?”

“Lower your voice will you?” you hiss, his tone rubbing you the wrong way.

“Since when do I not have a right to know you’re pregnant with my child?” Kevin ignores your request and barges on, demanding an answer.

“Everything alright here?” The Australian accent makes you want to cry. Of course it’s just your luck that he is also here.

“Doesn’t concern you, Webber,” Kevin tells the older man before turning back to you, “Why did you keep this from me?”

“Kevin please-..”

“No! Why didn’t you tell me that you’re pregnant?”

You know you have two options here: you can either come up with some bullshit excuse or you tell him the truth, and neither of them seem particularly appealing right now.

“Because-..” you start, swallowing thickly, “Because I don’t know if you’re the father.” You feel both sets of eyes on you as you fight back the tears.

“Sweetheart, what do you mean?” Mark asks you quietly, a hand on your arm.

“You know damn well what I mean. And I am not your sweetheart.”

You have to give Kevin credit, it only takes him two seconds to put one and one together before he’s swinging for the former F1 driver. Mark takes a step back, shielding you behind him at the same time.

“Okay,” you hear Nico say and when you peek around Mark’s broad back, you see the German driver holding Kevin back. You have no idea where he came from, but for once you’re grateful to see him. “Kev, we fock smash doors, not people.”

“Suck my balls,” Kevin seethes, struggling to break free.

“Kevin, unless you want to explain all of this to both Steiner and Netflix, please listen to Nico,” you say. Kevin freezes, seemingly becoming aware of his surroundings, and lowers his arm.

“We will talk tonight, okay? Pretty sure you have a meeting to get to and I need to see if Toto hasn’t fired me yet. Tonight,” you add when Kevin opens his mouth to reply, “Same goes for you Mark. I’ll text you.” And with that you leave them behind, head down as you walk back to the Mercedes motorhome.

And the plot thickens! Told you it was an unhinged idea 🙈

Feel free to let me know what you think! Your comments, tags and likes mean the world to me

#f1 fanic #kevin magnussen x reader #kevin magnussen x you #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #mark webber x reader #mark webber x you #mamma mia fic

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thisismeracing · 1 year ago

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King of my heart | extras | Mick and Yn create a playlist together

― Summary: Yn and Mick are still threading through their feelings, none of them yet aware of how deep it is. Some say that actions speak louder than words, but guess songs do too sometimes. ― Word count: 1.3k ― A/n: This can be read as a stand-alone, but it’s better when you’ve read the series. ― Warnings: mention of food; tooth aching fluff.

✷ see my main masterlist | patreon masterlist | KOMH Masterlist ✷ wanna be tagged on my works? check my taglist ✷ you can support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

“I created the playlist,” Yn shares once she finds Mick in the garage. It’s close to lunchtime, and some of the crew are already leaving to eat at the paddock cafeteria. George is pointing something to Mick on the computer to which he simply nods before turning to Yn. “I just sent you the Spotify link,” she adds.

His eyes take her in and he nods again. He wants to say a lot of things, how beautiful she looks, how he missed her the whole morning, how boring it felt without her laugh, how happy he is that she created the playlist, that way he’ll have yet another excuse to text her, but he just nods. A lot of the things that are going through Mick’s mind are making him choose to keep his lips sealed. He knows each little thing can and will be pointed to by his friends as catching feelings.

The worst thing is that he believes that maybe it is true.

Maybe he is falling for Yn.

His friend’s sister.

His co-worker's sister.

“What playlist?” George asks, poking his head in their direction and Yn rolls her eyes playfully.

“It’s nothing, you’re a driver, not a reporter, you don’t need to know everything,” her retort makes Mick throw his head back in laughter and even Russell himself can’t contain the snicker.

“You’ve been walking too much with Lando, you’re getting sassier,” the British points while taking off the headphones from around his neck.

“As it happens, I’ve actually been walking a lot with you, George.”

Mick snickers watching the whole interaction the way you watch a tennis match, head going from one side to the other to catch the faces the duo is making.

“Anyways, I gotta go have lunch, you two have fun,” Russell patted Yn’s and Mick’s back before leaving them alone in front of the computer.

“Are you having lunch in the cafeteria with everyone?” he asks but what he really wants to say is: would you like to have lunch with me?

Yn shakes her head, “I ordered lunch.”

“Oh-”

She adds before Mick can say something else, “I ordered two…you said you wanted to try that salad last time, and I thought-”

“Awesome! So we go through the songs while we eat lunch,” Mick has a small smile on his pink lips, whereas he’s jumping up and down inside.

Yn nodded, starting the track to one of the meeting rooms she used to work while in the garage. Mick is right behind her, and the silence until they reach the door is peaceful. Yn left the package by the table along with two bottles of water, but they settled on the couch sitting in front of each other. Shoes discarded on the ground, legs crossed.

“I already added one song, I’m sorry,” Yn starts and Mick nods, silently asking her to continue. “Die Hard, by Kendrick Lamar.”

“This song is amazing!”

“Do you like it?” Yn asks, smile wider this time, and Mick nods.

“Can I add Lost by Frank Ocean?” the blonde asks and Yn jumps up and down while still sitting.

“Yes!! Absolutely!!”

She digs her fork into the food before taking a bite. Mick sips his water, and then asks, “So, you add one I add one? And we only add the ones we agree on or? How’s this gonna work?”

“I think we can make a mix, no need to agree, we will listen to everything afterwards and then we can talk about the ones we never heard before… that is if you agree.”

“Well, I’ve never made a shared playlist like this before, so yeah, I agree.”

Yn smiles, “I do them all the time with Lewis, he hasn’t surrendered to Taylor Swift quite yet, but I always try,” Mick chuckles. “Anyways, I think we should add some classics like It Wasn’t Me, we were listening to it that day in the car, you remember?”

“Yeah, you sang that Mick song too.”

“Oh, Mick, you’re so fine, so fine you blow my mind,” she sang teasing him and the German rolled his eyes playfully, a flush creeping from his neck to his ears.

“Does she actually sing Mick?” he’s truly curious.

Yn shakes her head, “But I do,” the way she winks at him makes his stomach roll and feel cold in a strange yet good way. “She sings Mickey, but I think Mick fits better, don’t you think?”

Mick is at a loss for words, so he chooses to stuff his mouth with lettuce and shrug instead of answering. How could he answer? Were they flirting? What the hell was this feeling in his stomach?

“I propose we add the songs and go through it in real-time. Open the app there,” she points to his cell phone and Mick does as she says.

“You just added Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls,” he states and taps his fingers on the screen adding Tennessee Whiskey, watching Yn as she furrows her brows.

“I’ve never heard this one.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I don’t know much about Country music,” she confesses.

“I’ll add my favorite ones for you.”

Yn smiles at him.

They go about eating and adding songs to the playlist. There’s a smile and a giggle here and there, sometimes laughter, and frowns with the unknown songs.

Yn is sipping her water and looking at the phone, when she sees a new song pop on the list, “What does ‘schön’ mean?”

“I’m adding some German songs for you,” Mick explains, but Yn is not satisfied with the simple answer.

“‘Mkey, how do you say this?”

“Sch-ön,” he slowly mouths and she giggles.

“With kissy lips?” Mick nods. “Man, you Germans are kinda cute. You make kissy faces every time there’s a word with this thingy?”

“Umlaut,” he explains, holding back a chuckle. “And yeah, kinda.”

“So��what is this song about?” Yn asks, hitting play.

Mick watches as Yn bops her head to the rhythm, a grin on her plush lips and her eyes closed.

Du bist schön und es macht Spaß, dich anzuseh'n

(So schön)

Du bist schön und meine Augen sind verwöhnt

(Verwöhnt)

Du bist schön, uh, du bist schön

“What is he saying, Mouse?”

“You are beautiful, and fun to look at. You are beautiful and my eyes are… spoiled,” he tries to focus on the lyrics, but the second her eyes open and they find each other the song becomes mere background noise. “You’re beautiful,” this time his voice is a bit softer.

“Did he sing that again?”

Mick shakes his head, notices what he just did, and then nods.

“Yeah, it’s… it’s a simple song, it’s a good choice if you want to start learning some words in German.”

They go about adding songs in silence again, until Yn jumps from the couch hitting play on yet another song, “Oooh, this one’s good, you’ll like it!”

“Taylor Swift?”

“You were able to identify, that’s a good start. Yes. This one’s called Karma, it totally has your energy, Mouse.”

Mick furrows his brows in confusion and Yn starts walking around the room while explaining to him the story behind the music which took them over twenty minutes, but the Schumacher wasn’t bored, quite the opposite, he listened to everything, asking one question here and there, and chuckling at her enthusiasm.

It’s only when Lewis texts Mick telling him lunchtime is over that they wrap up their conversation, agreeing on adding songs to the playlist whenever they find something the other might like or should see.

“Thanks for lunch. Guess I owe you dinner now, huh?”

Yn sucks her bottom lip into her mouth, and Mick’s eyes drop slightly following the motion.

“Yup,” she nods. “See you in a few, Mouse.”

And when the door closes behind the blond Yn sighs. Her brother would have to forgive her. Not liking Mick was getting harder and harder.

― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi, besties! I hope you guys like this piece! A huge shout out to my ☕️anon for proofreading this piece so quick ❤️ Don’t forget to reblog and comment, and follow me if you liked it!

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#komh #millie writes #mick schumacher #ms47 #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher x black!reader #mick schumacher x reader #f1 fandom #mick schumacher fluff #f1 x you #f1 fanfiction #mick schumacher fanfiction #hamilton!reader #formula 1 fanfic #f1 fanfic

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justanamesstuff · 2 years ago

Text

Unrequited love at the studio - Matty Healy

A/N: It's funny how I don't plan writing the blurbs, but suddenly I feel the urge to post...hope you like it! ♥

Word count: 1.3 k

Warnings: swearing, typos.

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She could listen to them bicker about the song they had been working on for hours. Matty and George were starting to get impatient with the process, partially why she left to brought food and coffee for them. A simple gesture to lift the mood a little.

“This is not working.” Matty started to complain.

“It has to.”

“George…”

“Yeah?”

Y/n stood at the studio door, looking at the pair. If they noticed she was there, they didn’t acknowledge her presence. Their faces close –way too close– to the computer. The program they used was impossible to understand for her. She admired their talent beyond words.

Matty sneaked a hand around George’s arms, he pressed a button and the song started playing. Y/n thought for her insides that anyone would love it just like that, although she knew Matty –specially– and George worked hard to make every song a perfect one.

“This…is shit!” Matty screamed, projecting himself backwards in the chair.

George ignored his comment. “It’s not…I can push this back-” he tried to explain, but Matty was in a difficult mood that day.

“And it will be shit-” he concluded, bugging George.

He glanced at the frontman, saying in a calm tone, “Take the stick out of your ass, mate!”

Y/n decided it was the moment to interrupt before things escalate between the boys.

“Hey, hey, hey…what’s going on, guys?” she entered the room, lifting the food in her hands.

“Fuckin’ finally, you’re here. He’s being an-” George lift his big hands on a praying sign, turning to look at her.

Matty listen carefully to every word G was saying to fought back, interrupting his friend saying, “Georgie boy is not listening to me!” he protested like a little child.

George had his good share of Matty for not only a day, for an entire week. Since Y/n was here, knowing her words had more impact on Matty than him, decided it was the moment to take a break.

G lift his slender body from his chair, without sparing a glance at Matty. “I’m going for a smoke. Good luck!” he wished her, leaving a sweet kiss on the top of her head.

Once they were alone, Y/n approached the man in question. She reached for his shoulders, massing them slightly. The tension on his body was palpable for her.

“Okay, big baby…what’s going on, mhm?” she inquired him.

Matty let him body relax, leaning back on her touch.

“Nothin’ is going on, darlin’.” he lied, closing his eyes. Off course, she knew better than to believe his little white lie.

“Okay.” Y/n stopped massaging Matty, going to plop down onto the couch. Matty felt the loss of touch, turning on the swivel chair to look at her.

Matty groaned loud. “Don’t ‘okay’ me.”

Y/n smiled wide, reaching for her coffee cup. “Okay.” she mumbled, taking a big sip.

Matty waited for her to keep asking, she didn’t. Y/n stayed in silence, watching every one of his movements.

“Agh!” Matty whined, joining her on the couch. He started talking even though Y/n kept her mouth shut. “I haven’t slept…George is not really hearing what I’m saying…” he wobbled from side to side, finally resting his head down on her lap. Matty reached for her hand, leaving it on his head.

Y/n answered his silent request, running her hands through his hair. She was accustomed to finding herself in that position with Matty. The action calmed his nerves better than anything else.

“Why you didn’t sleep?” Y/n asked him softly.

“I can’t stop thinking about this stupid tune.” he rubbed his face on the fabric of her trousers.

It couldn’t be only that. “What else?”

“Nothin’ else.” Matty murmured.

Y/n decided to went with his lie, don’t push him when he wasn’t ready to talk. “Mhm, sure.” she let out, both of them falling into a comfortable silence. Y/n continued touching his hair.

“Where were you last night?” Matty asked out of the blue, startling Y/n a little.

“Why? I’m suspect for a murder or something?” she tried to joke, trying to get a look of his face. Matty kept his eyes closed, enjoying her touch once more.

“Maybe.”

“Well, in that case…I was out.”

“With whom?”

Y/n was aware she could talk about anything with him. “Lana got cheated on by her boyfriend- Well, now ex. Why?”

“That sucks…” Matty felt bad for even asking.

“Yeah, she’s not doing great right now.” she shared, watching friends suffer it was another kind of pain.

“I like Lana, she’s great…feelin’ sorry for her.” Matty kept the conversation going.

Y/n felt intrigued about his questions. “Now you know where I was.” she stated.

“Yes.”

“Why you asked?”

“Never mind.” Matty was ashamed, embarrassed to express his true worries from the night before.

“Matty-”

“It’s stupid.” he said, turning so he could look up at her face.

“Just tell me.”

‘Fuck it’, Matty thought. “You mentioned John the other day- You were ignoring my texts, you never do that-”

Y/n couldn’t help to burst into a fit of laughter.

“Matty, baby, you were feeling needy?” she teased him.

He tried to act up as if her calling him ‘baby’ didn’t affect him. “Forgetit.” he chocked into his words.

After a brief pause, Y/n instructed him, “Get up.” He groaned, lifting his tired body. He went to returned to the chair when Y/n took his hand.

She was laying down on the couch, using all the space to lay down comfortably, “Come here, you need sleep.”

“I have to work…” Matty tried to protest, but the bags under his eyes convinced Y/n to keep trying.

“A nap is self caring sometimes, George is going to understand.”

“Fine.”

“Come here.” she invited him, opening her arms.

Matty looked at her, still standing, wondering, “Can I use my favourite pillow?” he wiggled his eyebrows to her chest.

“You nasty!”

“Please?” he asked, showing her his underlip, making puppy eyes at her.

Y/n rolled her eyes. “Fine.” she allowed him. “Come on, baby boy!”

Matty scoffed at her nickname, “I’m a man.” he said, resting his head on her chest.

“Yeah, sure.”

Y/n’s hands returned to his head, while Matty breath started to calmed down. He closed his eyes. Matty didn’t hold a moan this time to scape his mouth.

After only 5 minutes, Matty was soundly asleep when George returned to the studio. Matty's snoring welcomed him.

George pointed at his friend body on top of Y/n’s. “What is he doing?”

“Shhh!”

“Fuckin’ ell’”

“Let him sleep, please!” Y/n begged.

George shook his head, returning to move bits around on the computer. Y/n looked at the back of his head.

“You are way too good for him.” G said, breaking the silence.

Y/n blushed. She was thankful Matty was asleep and G wasn’t looking at her. “‘m not.”

“Are you ever going to tell him?”

“What do you mean?” Y/n felt exposed.

George chuckled. “Don’t play dumb with me…” he warned her.

Y/n gave it a real thought. “No.” she finally stated.

“You have high chances…” G suggestively told her. Y/n’s heart fluttered.

She didn’t have a chance or even hope with Matty. Y/n was her friend and friend only. “I don’t…he has a line of girls-”

G interrupted her, “He keeps choosing you-”

“George, shut up, please.” Y/n couldn’t go there exactly when Matty was resting on top of her body, when he was so close and yet too far.

G let her be. “Okay…10 more minutes, and I’m waking up sleeping beauty.” he informed her with an even noise, which made her laughed.

The vibration made Matty pushed his face further into her chest. “With a kiss?” Y/n asked George.

“Off course.”

Part 2

#matty healy #matty healy fic #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy x reader #matty healy imagine #matty healy x y/n #matty healy x you #the 1975 #george daniel #matty the 1975 #matty 1975 #the 1975 fanfic #matty healy blurb

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mystic-writings · 7 months ago

Text

emergency contact | jack hodgins

pairing — jack hodgins x fem!booth!reader

summary — hodgins hasn’t heard from you in over six months, after you broke up with him and disappeared. until he gets an alarming phone call in the middle of the night

warnings — angst, canon-typical violence, mentions of death

word count — 2,528

notes — a few things: i wrote this back in january, and it was rushed and poorly done but im being self-indulgent for this one | also im not tagging anyone bc i wanna see how far this will get on its own (except for my beloved @shmaptainwrites who indulged me ily mimi)

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2:47am

Despite his many years working for the Jeffersonian, Hodgins had yet to get used to his phone ringing at odd hours. With a groan and a stretch, his palm landed where his phone lay on the nightstand table. Without checking the caller ID, he picked up the phone and slurred out a tired greeting to the caller on the other line.

“Hello, Dr. Hodgins, I’m Marie, calling from the George Washington University Hospital.” Why was a hospital calling him so late at night? “You’re listed as the emergency contact for Y/n Booth, correct?”

Your name sent a shock through Jack’s body. “I— I guess so, yeah. Why? Is she okay?”

“Your fiancée was shot on duty, sir. She’s in surgery right now. We suggest you be with her when she wakes up.”

Without a second thought, Jack hung up the phone and flung out of bed. He didn’t care how things ended between the two of you, good or bad, but he knew one thing for certain: he needed to make sure you were okay. After scrambling for a decent set of clothing and his car keys, Jack rushed out of the house and down the near-empty streets to the hospital you were taken to.

Even though his mind was running at a mile a minute, Jack managed to recall what the nurse had told him. Shot on duty. You took a sabbatical seven months ago, were you back in town? Surely Booth must’ve known, he was your brother and co-worker, he had to have. Did he spare telling Jack to avoid the inevitable turmoil? Obviously you’d been back long enough to take a case, so it wasn’t like you had decided to come back out of the blue.

By the time he found parking, it was half past 3 in the morning, and Jack’s heart refused to stop beating out of his chest, his palms sweating rivers as he clenched and unclenched them. Despite all of this, though, he approached the front desk with a cracking resolve, trying his best to be put together for the sake of not distressing the night staff and lingering patient family members.

“Could you tell me where Y/n Booth is?”

The nurse behind the counter glanced up at him. “Connection to the patient?”

“I’m her-” he stumbled on the words. “Her, uh, fiancé. Emergency contact.”

She typed a few things into the computer when a voice from behind caught Jack’s attention.

“Hodgins.” Booth called, approaching with a weary face and a cup of likely burnt coffee.

Jack nearly sprinted over to the man, blue eyes frantically searching for answers in his features. “What’s up, man? I mean, what the hell happened?”

Booth took Hodgins by the arm and led him down a hallway, over to the elevators. “We were going after a perp. I told her not to go in first, that I’d handle the hard part. She didn’t listen, the bastard got her from behind, shot out one of her kidneys. Been in surgery for almost,” he checked his watch, “three hours now.”

Jack deflated just as the elevator doors dinged open. The pair stepped inside, the space empty apart from themselves. “I just— I don’t get it. Yesterday, she was somewhere even I didn’t know, taking some damn sabbatical. Yesterday, I was still pissed at her. Now? She’s in surgery because she was on a case. Because some asshole shot her. I mean, what the hell am I supposed to do with that, Booth?”

Unable to provide any kind of emotional support or response, Booth remained quiet as his friend tried his best not to break down in the elevator.

When the doors opened, Jack attempted to regain his composure as best as he could while Booth led him down the hall. There was a separate waiting room here, for family members who had someone in surgery. He sat opposite Booth, next to a sleeping little girl and her obviously exhausted mother.

He had no bearing of the passage of time, and felt as though there was no energy left within him to check the watch on his wrist. All he did was sit with his hands on his knees, head tilted to the sky, one leg bouncing like an infinite rubber ball. At some point, a doctor came out to notify the mother of her husband’s successful surgery — his tumor was gone, he’d told her, and there was little chance of it coming back.

It wasn’t until the sun started to peek in through the waiting room windows that a surgeon called out your name. Booth had been asleep in the chair across from Jack, but he was wide awake. The pair jumped up and approached the doctor, throwing questions at him rapidly.

“Y/n is okay. Surgery went well, though we’ll have to keep her here for longer than expected.”

“Why? What happened?” Booth asked.

The doctor sighed. “Due to the location of the entry wound, the bullet caused too much damage to her right kidney. For now, she’ll only be functioning with one until we can find a donor match. She’ll be on dialysis weekly and some medication to assist the working kidney, but otherwise, she’ll be just fine in a week or so. The bullet did puncture the liver and small intestine, but the speed of the bullet slowed enough to only cause minor damage, nothing we couldn’t fix up.” He told them, and a wave of relief crashed over the pair. “She’s being brought up to her room now, if you’d like to go wait with her.”

Jack only nodded, Booth trailing him as the doctor led them up one more floor, where you were being transferred to the ICU. It was painful, seeing you after so long, only for you to be hooked up to so many machines, laying nearly helpless in a bed. He pulled a chair up to your right side, reaching for your limp hand to hold, hoping you could feel him.

Hoping you knew he was there. That you knew he always would be.

Booth leaned against the door frame, watching everything with anguish. After you left for California, you kept in constant contact with your older brother. But even in those months, you never explained why you broke off the engagement so suddenly. Why you took a surprise sabbatical, why you went to California specifically. Why you became so closed off, so cold to everyone, even to Parker.

After a while, Booth left Jack alone to go pick up Parker from his mother’s house. He promised to be back later, your nephew in tow, and pressed a featherlight kiss to your forehead before he left.

Jack, swimming in an ocean’s worth of thought, barely noticed the sun coming over the horizon in the window opposite him. All he could do was process the emotions flowing through him. Anger, that you left him so suddenly and without explanation. Despair, that you’d come back so long ago and didn’t come to see him, to work things out. Worry, that despite your life-saving surgery, you wouldn’t get a new kidney, or that you’d never be the same again. Anger again, but at the bastard who shot you. Triumph, that he was rotting in a cell right now.

Jack’s only comfort in the sterile, whitewashed room was the steady beeping emanating from the heart monitor, a small assurance that you were okay. His hand remained clasped over yours for hours, thumb stroking the smooth skin on the back of your hand. Partly as a comfort to himself that you were still there, but mostly, he believed, a comfort to you. He hoped you could feel it; that you could feel his presence. He hoped his presence comforted you.

By the time you woke up, all the worry had faded from Jack’s body and exhaustion had taken its place. He was asleep, head supported by his arm on the side of the chair, when he heard the sheets rustle in the bed.

Somehow, in all your years of work, this was the first time you ended up in the hospital due to a job-related injury. It wasn’t the first time you woke up dazed after a surgery with little memory of how you got there, though.

The sheets, despite being thin, weighed down your legs and torso, providing warmth and comfort. You could feel the leads for the heart monitor stuck to your chest, irritating your skin in the slightest bit. There was a cannula feeding oxygen into your system, though it rubbed the skin on the back of your ears uncomfortably. The main thing, though, was that your torso hurt.

Despite that, you managed to notice something weighing down your right hand. It was warm, warmer than the blankets. And heavier. Garnering the courage to open your eyes, you blinked to adjust to the sunlight and fluorescent lights, trying to shift yourself upward, wincing when it pulled on your wound. Instead, you glanced over at your hand, only to find another on top of it. Following the arm connected to it, your heart stuttered and cracked when you found a sleeping Hodgins sitting next to your bed. Emotion swelled within your chest and tear ducts just at the sight of him, sleeping so peacefully next to you, his hand over yours in a firm grasp, as if that was the only thing that assured him that you were really here.

Slowly, quietly, you tried to pull your hand out from under Jack’s, only for the movement to wake him up. He stretched with a deep inhale, blinking rapidly as he took in his surroundings. It wasn’t until he noticed you were awake that he seemed to come to his senses.

“Hey,” he nearly whispered. “How’re you feeling?”

You bit back a scoff. “Terrible. First job back and of course I had to get myself shot.”

Jack fought a smile, scooting forward to raise the bed up for you to sit properly. “They said they got all the fragments of the bullet during surgery. You’re down a kidney for now, though.”

You only nodded, allowing yourself some time to gather your thoughts. “Why are you here, Hodgins?”

“Apparently, I’m still your emergency contact.” He told you, sitting back down and resting his elbows on his knees. “And apparently, I still care about you enough to show up.”

“Don’t put that on me.” You whispered, chest restricting as tears fought their way back to your waterline. “You can’t say that to me. Not after what I did to you. You should hate me. I mean, really hate me. Like, praying for my downfall, kind of hate. You shouldn’t still care about me.”

“Well, apparently I do. I thought I hated you, for a long time. But I guess I don’t.” Jack sighed, taking your hand. You wanted to protest, to pull away, but you let him. “I guess this was a wakeup call for me. Literally. They called me at 3 in the morning to tell me you were in surgery.”

You laughed, a wet sound underlined with sadness. “I’m sorry, Jack. Really, I am. I just…”

“What, don’t love me? It’s okay. I’ve learned to live with it.”

Even when he should hate you, Jack still understood, and even worse, he still loved you. He was, somehow, the world’s most understanding man. God, you love him.

“No, no I don’t hate you. Actually, it’s the opposite. I just wish things could’ve gone differently.”

Now Jack was just confused. “What d’you mean? You broke up with me for a reason, right? You told me you didn’t love me anymore.”

“It’s too complicated, Jack. I want to explain it all to you, really, but it’s not safe. I don’t know if or when it will be, and I won’t blame you if you want to find someone else, or if you already have. You deserve to be happy, Jack. You should move on from me.”

“I don’t want anyone else.” Jack said, emphasizing each word and squeezing your hand. “I just want you. From the moment I met you, I knew you were it for me, Y/n. Even with your brother breathing down my neck to not even think about pursuing our relationship. It was terrifying, but I ignored it. Because you were too important to have in my life. I couldn’t risk passing you up. I just don’t understand why you ended things so suddenly.”

The tears that you had been attempting to keep at bay for this entire conversation now flowed freely down your cheeks, the emotions you’d kept close to your chest for nearly a year now breaking free. Jack, like the gentleman he was, gently tilted your head toward him, reaching up and using the pads of his thumbs to brush them from your cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered, daring to look him in the eye.

“Don’t be.” He whispered.

“I have to be. I hurt you. I ruined everything. And it wasn’t even worth it. It didn’t change anything.”

Despite his confusion, Jack said nothing. He simply stood to his full height and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling you into his chest — minding your wounds and stroking your hair. “It’s okay. You’re home now. We can fix this.”

“No we can’t.” You shook your head, looking up at him. “Jack, there’s nothing left to fix. Because if we fix it, you’ll die.”

After what felt like an eternity of swirling, spiraling thoughts, Jack found his voice. “What?”

“That’s why I left.” You said. “I was ordered to. I was working on a case, some underground organized crime syndicate. I found out some stuff I shouldn’t have. My hands were tied, I had no choice.” Choking back a sob, you wiped the tears from your face and took a breath. “It was either break up with you, call off the wedding, and leave, or everyone I loved would die. They were gonna kill you, kill Seeley and Parker, and drain your accounts. There was nothing I could do.”

Jack pulled you in tighter, his whole worldview shifting and turning on an axis. He couldn’t speak — hell, he could barely even think right now. Jack had spent months grieving your relationship, questioning why you broke things off, harboring a ruthless anger at what his life had become, and all of it faded to dust in an instant.

“I don’t know what to do,” you whispered, pulling Jack back to the present. “I work with these people, Jack. They could ruin me in an instant.”

“We’ll fix this, I promise.” Jack declared, and despite the fear that had overridden your senses for the past few months, you couldn’t help but believe him.

You only nodded, curling further into him as best as you could with your incisions. Fidgeting with the strings of his hoodie, you listened to the beat of his heart beneath you and took a deep breath.

Soon enough, you were drifting off to sleep with the firm belief that soon enough, with the help of your family, somehow, everything would be okay.

if you want more jack fics, please feel free to comment and let me know!! writing for smaller characters is always a gamble but if people read this i’d be more than happy to do so!

#jack hodgins #jack hodgins x reader #jack hodgins x y/n #jack hodgins x you #jack hodgins angst #bones fanfiction

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wisteriagoesvroom · 9 months ago

Note

gax + corporate/law vibes + ‘The powerpoint was steadily taking over their relationship, something that Max was not willing to stand for.’

gax?? gax!!

power (you make some points): a gax ficlet

rated m, ~1.2k words now also readable on ao3

author babble:

bear in mind i wrote this before i knew more about the Gax Lore i.e. karting together, actually being nice to each other blablabla. you could also just retrofit the vibes and hopefully they still work. anyways!

will throw this up on ao3 when i’m not sitting bleary eyed in an airport

————

If there was one thing that Max Verstappen wouldn’t tolerate, it was George Russell having the monopoly on good PowerPoint presentations. Max had won all four years of debate in College, as well as the dubious title of “most radical deployment of Google Slides templates” at his MBA, and he was not about to be usurped by the other guy in his department who actually knew how to use an animate transition.

“You missed an indent there.” Max says, pointing at the monitor. Yellow and red lights wink at them from the outside, as if to say: you’re both in your mid-twenties, quit wasting it on a computer screen at 11pm on a Wednesday, maybe?

Max is not staring, very determined not to look at his teammate’s facial expression. But George is almost certainly rolling his eyes right now.

“Was coming back to that, alright?” George huffs back. Max is very professional most of the time. But something about how wound up George is, how insanely pedantic he is about everything from semicolons to coffee cup placement for the Directors to taking insanely detailed minutes that nobody except Max reads after the meetings – well. What is it that Nietschze once said? We hate in others what we most identify with about ourselves. Or was that from Twitter? Max does not really use Twitter except to look at Bloomberg News updates and cat videos, so he does not know. And anyway Nietzsche never made a six figure salary.

“It would just be easier if you would let me do it.” Max says.

“Fuck right off, mate.”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like me to.”

“Not now.”

“Just share the link to this. I’ll do it.”

“We agreed to take turns on this.”

“Yes, Russell. But sometimes, the rules are meant to be bent.”

George swivels his chair to Max, then. Fully attempts to pin him with his gaze, commencing an awkward stare-off that lasts way too many seconds and makes Max once again realise that George’s eyes remind him of the expensive fish tank he saw at the Partners’ sushi dinner once. Max doesn’t think those same fish were the ones they ended up eating. But he does remember that dinner because it was the one where the Partners had dangled the promise of a huge promotion if they could help carry the company merger across the line successfully. The problem is, there was only one spot.

George’s distracting aquatic orbitals aside, fortunately, Max (i) never backs down, and (ii) has been told that he has the dead-eyed emotional stare of a robot missing an empathy software upgrade sometimes.

And clearly, the powerpoint was steadily taking over their relationship, something that Max was not willing to stand for.

Max leans back in his chair, stance all mock-relaxed. “Do you want to be out of here before midnight, or not?”

“We’re expensing the Ubers either way, so it doesn’t make a difference to me, mate.”

Fine. If George is so hyperfocused on The Tasks that he’s forgotten the fun part of being Questionably Close Coworkers, so be it.

Max deploys the nuclear option.

He sticks his leg out, nudging the toe of his Pradas onto George’s slacks. And strokes his foot halfway up to a sensitive point on George’s thigh. Max may even flutter his lashes a little.

To his credit, George does not react. Merely swings his eyes like a lamp to Max’s face again. His hand does, however, goes still on the mouse.

“What exactly are you doing?”

“I don’t know.” Max feigns. He knows that George hates, more than anything, anyone getting dirt on his precious Ralph Laurens. But at least he has his attention now. “Was hoping we could move onto the more fun part of the typical evening activities. Maybe.”

“We shouldn’t be doing that again anyway.”

“George.”

“What?”

“That is not what you said the last, hm, fourteen times that we have done this, eh?”

“Who’s counting?”

“I thought you were the most careful of rule followers and data analysis, knapperd.”

George is a human being, but Max is almost certain the other man shakes himself like he’s preening right now.

“Well. It’s what the team likes me for, and it’s what I’ll keep doing.”

“Oh yes. Surely we must keep in mind the team. And the shareholders. They are very important.”

“Quite.”

“But should we tell them that you like it so much, George. When I do this.” Max says. Rising up, fully crowding George in, hands gripping the cool handles of the computer chair. Leaning in to nibble the side of George’s neck.

George swallows. Max watches his throat move.

Next, Max mouths the words onto the side of George’s jaw, stubble prickling his mouth. “And this.”

The click of the mouse continues steadily as Max moves his mouth to the shell of George’s ear. “And let’s not forget. This.”

Max tilts George’s face up fully, then. George’s face is flushed, eyes sparkling, all surprise at the sudden change of pace, but eager, too.

When Max seals his lips over George’s, George groans, and his hands shoot up to Max’s waist immediately. It doesn’t feel quite like winning a deal or a pitch does for Max, but the completion comes pretty damn close.

Max sweeps his tongue into George’s mouth. George opens willingly, like he always does. In the back of Max’s logical brain, a warning sign blares that the computer chair may not be able to support the weight of them both – because they spend a lot of time pretending they don’t work out together at the gym but Max knows exactly what George’s deadlift PB is and it’s pretty damn high for a scrawny looking dude.

And despite the keening protest of said chair, the two of them are both lost to it now. Max jams one knee between George’s legs, George nibbles hungrily at Max’s lower lip, Max thrusts his hips all needy, and maybe if Max is nice about it George might suck him off under the table, and–

Outlook chimes again.

“Blasted piece of shit.” George says, breaking away. His hands go still at Max’s waist. “Why we’re using G-Suite and Microsoft Office at the same time I will never know.”

George squeezes his eyes shut, as if making himself stop this is causing him physical pain. Maybe it’s that or the workflow incompatibility when George tries to move his custom Excel-Trello gantts into a third party API.

And Max won’t lie. He kind of likes it when George gets so irritated about these things. When he cares a bit too much. Because what is Max but exactly like that, too.

“Hazards of a merger, I guess. But without that, I would never have met you, no?”

George makes a noise like he knows what Max means. The other man straightens his shirt collar, and Max runs a hand through his hair. He’s been growing it out lately, because George had made a passing comment at the bathroom sink once about it looking good.

Sleeping with the person competing for the same Chief of Staff position is possibly the worst decision he could’ve made, and Max once dyed his hair platinum blonde. But, they’re stuck here together. Hell is a slightly more tolerable place when Satan’s right hand man looks this good. And knows his coffee order without asking.

Besides. Max is not bothered. He knows that the promotion is his. This is just a minor plot inconvenience.

Later, they will expense the uber back to George’s place, where Max will put his mouth on George’s arse, and give him a practical demonstration of the three different ways he’s learned to elicit pleasure from the male prostate.

George will whimper and whine the whole way through it, and after they’re both sated, they’ll both roll over to check their emails, barely concealing their smiles. They will pretend that what’s happening between them could be as clean as their zero-email inboxes. As if their connection is not violently seeping through containment.

All in the name of team bonding. For the firm. Yes.

(Or this is what they tell themselves, to maintain the illusion, anyway.)

#gax #max verstappen #george russell #f1 rpf #3363 #6333 #max verstappen x george Russell #wiz.writing #if this feels out of character I am sorry simply LOOK AWAY #but I enjoyed it #snipey type A assholes #but they’re MY made up snipey type A assholes #prompt fill #THESE WERE MEANT TO BE DRABBLES 😭#anyway

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chelleztjs18 · 2 years ago

Text

I Just Feel You (W.M)

Avenger Fem Reader x Wanda Maximoff

Summary: When things go downhill after a mission but revelations arise.

Warning: hurt/comfort. pain description. Let me know if i miss anything.

A/n: Hello! I'm back. This fic is from 2 requests combined. I tried to write it as short and fast as i can but turns out it wasnt that easy. hahaha. I didn't really proof read this fic so i'm sure there'll be some errors in it. Thank u @honey-sweet-hiraeth for helping me brainstorming. Thank u my curious george anon for the summary line. :D Thank you @stonemags for helping me checking and give me some corrections. These are the requests for this fic. Happy reading!

Main Masterlist

The snow surrounding is mostly untouched. The further it is and the higher it is up to the mountain, it looks all perfectly sparkling white. Silence dominates the air.

That was a little while ago, before you and your Avengers team mates came to attack one of Hydra secret labs and warehouses and the fight has been on for a while.

The sounds of gunshots, the screaming Hydra's army try to fight all of you and even some explosions are now breaking the silence.

“Okay, we already got all the vibranium they have here. Everybody try to get back to the jet now.” Steve instructs everybody through the comms.

“I still need to go into their computer system in the north building to hack the bomb that they set in Sokovia's main city.” Stark explained as he flies in the air at high speed.

"What about the detonator? One of Strucker's guys has it and he's running away with it to the east side." Natasha reminds everybody followed by a grunt as she fights the enemies in front of her.

"Somebody needs to get him before they blow it as their plan." The blonde super soldier directs his thoughts in the middle of throwing his shield at the gunman who tries to shoot him. “I can go to where the detonator at as soon as I’m done moving the vibranium to the jet. “ Pietro offers his help as he runs super speed, knocking down three more Strucker’s guards.

“Y/n, why don’t you teleport there?” Yelena mentioned.

“I got Strucker locked in my target. I’m ready, Cap.” Clint informs through the com while pulling his arrow back and ready to shoot as he waits for his cue on the west part.

“Yelena’s right. I can teleport to get the detonator. I’m almost done with this big guy here.” You agreed and fought the last tough enemy you got in your assigned part of the building.

“No, y/n. Your power is new, you don’t have the control on teleporting where you want to go yet.” your girlfriend reminds you about your new power.

“No, don’t worry, Wands. I have been practicing with Yelena and I have been controlling it pretty good.” you disagree. “Y/n, don’t listen to my sister. Listen to your girlfriend.” Natasha backs up her best friend, Wanda.

“Y/n, don’t do it. I will fly to him now.” Wanda tries to leave you no room to argue no more.

“Wanda’s right, y/n.” Tony sided with your girlfriend as well and just like that, the comms line gets chaotic with the team agreeing and disagreeing with the plan while fighting whoever comes in front of them, kicking their ass.

“Trust me, y/n has been doing good. It’s about time to try it in the real field. What worse can happen right?” Yelena expresses her support for you.

“She can get hurt! Y/n, you better not do it!” Wanda warns you in a stern tone this time.

“Cap, what do you wanna do with this bastard? A helicopter just landed, he’s running away. Shoot him now?” The archer asks once more. Your and your teammates' voices overlap each other.

“Yeah, shoot him.” Steve answers.

“I’m gonna do it now.” you decide despite Wanda’s warning.

Clint let go the arrow, targeted the running Strucker and just like Wanda said, you showed up in the opposite direction you wanted.

You gasp as you feel Clint’s arrow force through your upper abdomen near your ribs, luckily the new technology on your suit managed to block his arrow before it hits your vital organ. It was impressive but it hurts you good. “Wait, y/n! What the hell just happened?! Clint asks in such shock and confusion of what he saw from the top of the hill.

"I just got hit by your arrow, Clint. Fuck! That hurts." You tried to get up but you couldn't.

Confident that none of the Avengers are close enough to get him now, Strucker noticed what happened and looked down at the wounded you now. “Ah, I remember you. You finally got your power. Teleporting, not bad. I’ll come back for you, to finish what I started on you.”

His heavy voice in a malicious evil tone made its way to be heard by you causing fear to show up out of nowhere in you. Your body starts to shake a little and you feel colder than a few seconds ago. Your legs weakened from your trauma. Vivid images of memories flash rapidly, sending shivers to your bones. You were one of Hydra’s experiments before The Avengers saved you and recruited you to join them.

The wound makes it hard for you to move and all you can do is respond to him in agony. “No, you won’t! We will get your ass, Strucker! And stop you from doing more experiments on those poor people, you son of a bitch!”

“Can anybody go where they are? Clint, can’t you shoot more arrows?” Tony talks in concern.

“That was my last one.”

“I’ll take care of y/n.” The Maximoff twins said the same things at once.

Strucker didn’t say anything else and walked away shortly after he left with a confident smirk on his face to get onto the helicopter.

Pietro and Wanda came at the same time but too bad Strucker got away.

You hear a thud as Wanda lands. "Detka, what were you thinking?? You are hurt now." She sounds upset as she leans to you to check your wound.

"Hey, Wands. I'm okay. Don't worry. Ouch!" You replied as you flinched when the red magic tendrils wrap you and lift you up.

"Come on, ya goose. We gotta make sure you are okay before my sister gets mad at you." the silver haired twin teases you, knowing how angry Wanda is right now. He knows how protective and possessive she is of you.

"Love, are you mad at me?" You ask as you are floating into the quinjet as everybody else is already waiting in silence, they know better not to say anything when Wanda is furious.

“Not now, Y/n. We’ll get you first aid at the compound first, then I’ll talk to you.” Flat yet irritated was the red haired witch’s tone. You can see Natasha hit her sister’s arm as soon as she tries to talk to avoid more tension that she caused earlier.

“We’ll be at the compound soon in less than an hour.” Clint announced.

_____

Big thanks to Stark’s technology inventions, your wound will get better faster than usual. Wanda walks out of the meds room as soon as you are done and scurries to your shared bedroom. You try to catch up with her steps. “Wands, are you mad? You didn’t say a word to me the whole flight back” She ignores your question and keeps walking. You keep following her.

As soon as she walks into the bedroom, she slams the door before you even get the chance to get in. You open the door and walk in. “Seriously? Slamming the door? What’s your problem, Wanda? What did I do?”

She turns around to you and glares at you before she finally breaks her silence. “What the hell were you thinking?! Teleported when you can’t control it yet! You could’ve died, y/n!”

”But I didn’t, did I?” Trying to loosen up the tension, you joke around a little bit but oh boy you realized it was not the smartest thing to do right now. Wanda’s annoyance flares and she simmers with anger. “You seriously did not just say that, y/n! Argh! You never take anything serious, don't you? You don't take me seriously, or our relationship or even your life! I thought you would change but I was wrong." she snapped. Her voice started to raise. Her heart pounding and her muscles quivering.

“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Where the hell did all of that come from? I don’t take you seriously? And our relationship? Wands, I’m committed to you. You said that you thought I would change? change to what? You never mention anything about this. You are all over the place now babe.” You responded as confusion showed up in your face.

“Oh don’t you babe me, y/n! I’m not all over the place!” Wanda refuses your words after stopping herself from walking back and forth. Tension is for sure escalated.

“Oh yes you are. First you didn’t talk to me in the quinjet, then you got mad because I was being reckless in the mission and then about me not being serious and never changing? What the hell?!” you added.

"You are childish, y/n. You know that, everybody knows that. " Wanda keeps arguing back at you. Rage bottled up inside her.

"I am younger than you but I'm not childish! What did you mean everybody knows that?" You deny her upsetting words wholeheartedly. "Well, if you weren't childish, you would’ve not listened to Yelena and teleported then get shot with Barton’s arrow! You always put your life in danger! You didn’t care about yourself or me.” Both you and Wanda start to yell at each other.

Anger clouded the two of you and mixed feelings slowly built up. “Always?” You genuinely ask but to Wanda, it’s like gasoline to her fire of rage.

“Yes! Always. You seriously forgot you almost got killed when you tried to kill the giant alien by yourself just so you can win your stupid bet with Yelena?! You know what, y/n, I’m dating you but I feel like I’m more babysitting you and I’m sick of it! I can't do this anymore." Wanda rambles in frustration as both her hands shoves her hair back off her face.

Your heart drops when you hear the last words she said. Tears start to pool in your eyes but you try hard to keep it in and swallow the lump in the back of your throat. "W-what did you mean? Are you breaking up with me?"

This time it was Wanda's stomach turn to churn hearing your question. She is as speechless as you are and doesn't know how to answer you but unfortunately, her silence was enough for you. WIthout saying a word, you walk away from you and proceed to pack your backpack.

The now bewildered Sokovian twin looks at you and asks “Y/n, what are you doing? Where are you going?”

“Anywhere but here. Apparently, you need some time to think and so am I. I’m going for a walk. Do not wait up.” You answered with a shaky tone, avoiding any possible eye contact to happen as you pick your pace filling up your backpack with your clothes and belongings.

"Do not wait up? So you are not coming home? Where are you going to stay tonight? Y/n, don’t go." Wanda rambles her questions while trying to hold back her tears and anger at the same time..

"Natasha is staying at her parents house. So I'll stay there and hang out to clear my mind." You answered and in a split second, it turns Wanda’s sadness back to anger again.

"Oh I see. Yelena is there too. That's why you are going there tonight, right?" Another accusation forcing its way out through Wanda's words.

"What are you talking about? I'm going there to think and talk with my best friend, Nat and also for you to have your space to rethink what you just said. I'm starting to think, what is the main issue here? Is it about you being overprotected, about me being childish, or what?"

You wait for her answer but Wanda’s lips are shut. She refused to say what her main issue was. “I guess we both really need some time to calm down so we can discuss this together.” You quickly turn your head away from her so she wouldn’t see your tears and with heavy footsteps you leave Wanda alone.

_____

The next morning, Wanda looks for you as soon as she wakes up. She rushes to any room in the compound yet she has no luck in finding you.

Her steps bring her to the dining room, hoping that you are there having breakfast with the other teammates like usual. She catches the two Russian sisters in her eyesight instead of you. Her heart shakes and her stomach churns. Her instinct tells her something is not right.

“Nat, where is y/n?” puzzled yet alarmed, the brunette Avengers asks the redhead.

“I don’t know. Why? Didn’t you two go to your room together after we got back last night? Wands, is everything okay?” Natasha answers in perplexion. Her eyebrows furrowed.

“We uh had some argument last night and she said she needs space to think so she told me she was going to your parent’s place last night because you were there.” Wanda explains while avoiding eye contact with Yelena. Her throat feels thickened.

“No, I didn’t get any text or call from her and she didn’t come to see me either.” concern starts to rise inside both Natasha and Wanda.

“That’s weird, she didn’t answer my text last night and this morning. Did you try to call her yet?” Yelena chimes in.

A quick deep glare from Wanda goes straight to Yelena. “I’m still not talking with you because of yesterday.” Wanda responds coldly.

“Wait, what–” Yelena quickly questioned Wanda’s statement but was interrupted by Natasha right away. Natasha understands her best friend's reasoning on getting mad at Yelena.

“I’ll inform the others to start searching for her. Something is off.” Wanda nods at the idea as three of them get up and start doing what they know what should do next.

_____

Like an hourglass that is almost running out of its sand in it, the hours of the day are almost over. All the Avengers have been doing their part to find you but they still got no luck until this second. Wanda has been worried sick. Tony has been doing the best he can to hack anything he could to track you.

“Barton, did you find anything?” Steve asks Clint from the comm who is looking for you from an aerial view in the helicopter. “None, Captain.” Clint answers right away.

“I’m sure it’s all Hydra’s doing. Clint told me that Strucker talked to her before he ran away that day.” Wanda lets out her thoughts, her eyes red from crying for you.

“Not to mention she was one of his experiments.” Natasha added.

“Why doesn’t she at least try to teleport?” Yelena asks genuinely in confusion and gets another sharp stare from Wanda, as sharp as a dagger.

“Strucker probably use this thing that can block our power or weaken it if it’s put on around our neck. They put them on Wanda and I before and trust me, that thing hurts a lot..” The speedster Maximoff twins explains as he recalls the traumatic past of theirs.

“Then it will be hard to find her, we gotta hurry up so we won’t be too late.” Iron Man adds with a concerned tone.

Everybody forces their brain to think so they can find a way to get you back. Silence roaming around at the compound, Wanda’s heart wrenched and her body leaden. She keeps thinking and thinking but then she remembers one thing. One thing that only you and Wanda know about.

“I know a way to find her. I will try to telepathically communicate with her.” Wanda breaks the silence and everybody turns their heads to her instantly.

“Y/n can telepath?” The blonde captain asks.

“She has telepathy power this whole time and she didn't tell us?” The Stark company CEO looks surprised.

“We weren’t sure if it was a new power she developed or not. We thought it was more of a connection we have. She didn’t want to tell everybody until she was sure and knew how to use it.” Wanda backs you up with her response as tears roll down on her cheeks..

“Boys, that’s totally understandable. I’m sure she would eventually tell us about it. Now, Wanda, can you try it now? Try to feel, or talk to her or whatever you can do with it? We need it, to save your girlfriend.” Natasha endeavors in cutting the conversation short, leading them to focus on the most important thing. Her green eyes locked with Wanda’s as she holds the side of Wanda’s arms and tells her to start trying to feel or sense where you are at but mostly, if you are still alive.

With that, the brunette witch nods and she closes her eyes, focusing her mind on you.

_____

You were woken up with a huge splash of ice cold water to your face and a heavy voice startled you at the same time.

“Wake up! You call yourself an Avengers but you keep passing out and can’t handle the pain?” A mocking laugh and tone echoes. You slowly open your eyes, your vision is blurred as your eyes are adjusting with the bright light from the lamp above you.

Intense aching claws every single of your nerves. You flinch from the pain on your neck when you move your head to look around. You realized you are still at the same dark underground facility with the last time you were at. You have lost count how many times you passed out from the torment you are experiencing in just one night.

You are still sitting on a chair with your wrists and ankles are all tied up to it. You weakly try to get yourself out of it but it was all in vain.

“Let me go!” You demand with the last bit of the energy you have left. Your lungs painfully try to get some air for your whole body. A mix of blood, sweat and water flows from your head and rolls over your face.

“I told you, I will come back for you.” A familiar bone chilling male voice with a thick accent made its way to be heard. You know whose it is. All the coldness in the air wakes every little hair on your skin, the smells around you, the stinging pain forcing most of your pores and Strucker’s voice definitely takes the role as if it’s a time machine that brings you back to your traumatic life history.

“What the fuck do you want from me?!” You grunt in agony.

“You and your power. I made you, I gave you the power you have now so you will serve Hydra but you joined the Avengers instead and that pissed me off!.” a hard slap lands on your cheek and jaws.

You spit the blood from your busted lips. With the last drop of vigor you have in you, you try to teleport but shortly you scream in such agitation from the collar electrocutes your neck and you hear Strucker’s maniac laugh as if he is enjoying what he sees and hears.

“Aw, where are you trying to teleport? You can’t run away from me again.This collar can prevent you from using your power.” A fake sympathy wrapped with a mocking tone flows between his words.

The tall man turns his back on you and yells a command in a foreign language you don’t understand and shortly after that, you are injected with a substance that brings out a lot more affliction in your body.

In a split second, your whole life flashes in front of you. Your sad childhood, your painful past after Hydra kidnapped you for the first time, the time you joined the Avengers and the time you saw Wanda’s green eyes that made you fall for her hard and helplessly.

Vivid images of her smiles parading in your mind with her laughter filling up your memories, the way she calls your name and all the pet names. You need her, you regretted that you left last night. You wished you didn’t and solved the argument with her. You tried your best to fight all these with exertion. You want to…no..you have to come home to your girlfriend.

You scream your lungs out, forcing yourself using your power to teleport even though the collar strikes you hard with a high voltage wave and forcing more harm to you but a soft soothing voice in your mind speaks to you and it stops you from screaming. “Y/n, can you feel me? Where are you?”

“Wanda?” You mumble her name weakly under your breath. Your chest rises and falls. You look around slowly trying to see if Wanda came. Her voice sounds crystal clear yet her presence isn’t anywhere near you..

You try to focus on listening to listen to everything you can and you hear something that gives you a clue where you are at. You close your eyes to try to connect your mind with hers.

_____

Red magic wisp lights up Wanda’s eyes as they are flooded with tears. Wanda can feel how you feel. She heard a faint answer from you. It drags her down when she hears how weak you are and it all comes together when she feels your pain.

“Y/n…” sorrow closes up her throat and plunges her into despair. In one blink, her tears escape.

"Wanda..what's wrong?" Natasha asks in such an anxious tone.

"Sestra? Is y/n okay?" Her twin brother lets out a question right after Natasha's.

"Please tell me she's still alive." Yelena's slavic accents disguise her worry about your safety.

"She's okay but she is in great pain, the same pain we had." Wanda's glistening eyes look at her brother, showing her vulnerability to him.

"So it's true, Hydra has her. Did she tell you where they keep her?" Pietro digs more information through his words.

Wanda nods in acknowledgement and says in a low voice. "She said Liberty."

Tony quickly commands his A.I to search for the clue Wanda got. “Hydra has an underground facility under the liberty statue, way under it. It will take at least four hours to hack all their security systems and connections before we can invade them and save Y/n.”

Wanda marches her way to the door.

“Wanda, where are you going? We have to wait.” Steve indirectly lets out a command to her. Wanda turns her head and she clenches her fists and with gritted teeth she refuses his order “I’m not going to let them lay their hands on my Y/n any longer, not even a second!” as she continues her steps.

_____

You almost lost your consciousness once more but you can feel Wanda more and more as if her presence is coming close. You close your eyes, focusing on your mind. Doubling your effort to telepathy with her. “I love you, Wanda. I’m sorry.. Please don't get hurt.”

You can feel heartache, her heartache to be exact. The only thing that keeps you up at this moment is her anger that you are feeling and her high hope for you to be still alive until she gets there.

As your head slowly faces down with the energy you have left while Strucker’s men do a lot more research on you, you hear a lot of terrorized men screaming. It caught your attention. The more you try to hear it, the more other sounds you hear. Sound of automatic guns’ ammo fired in the distance and a more screaming voice followed with many loud thuds echoing through the darkness of the facility.

You start to notice everybody who is doing the research on you starts to panic and more of Strucker's army come out with their firearms.

A blanket of fear covers them even though they are prepared for what’s coming or perhaps who is coming.

A few of the armed men are being thrown to the walls and to the enormous iron gate that stands tall protecting the room you are in right now. Some shots fired even a little explosion sound passed through the barriers shortly before more guards got thrown even harder. You are sure that they are all dead.

Silence takes over the air all of a sudden and everybody around you watches in fright. All the front row guarded men even take a step back. The wicked scientists start to undo everything that’s on you to take you away from whoever tries to save you.

The shadow that’s reflected on the wall moves closer and closer to the gate as steps keep repeating, showing that someone is coming.

You weakly chuckle. You turn your head to the men on both of your sides. “You are all screwed now. My girlfriend is here and I’m sure she is pissed right now. Trust me you don’t want to pissed her off.” you coughed between mocking words that you said.

“Shut up! We're gonna take you away. She will die before she can save you.” The skinny man disguises his fears with his threat as he unties the straps to move you to the gurnee bed.

The huge iron gate bent and flew abruptly to the guards that was caused by the strong impact of the red wisps and crushed most of them to death easily.

Guns, weapons and men are flying around. Some of them are slammed to the stone walls. Some of them are thrown so hard to each other and knocked down to the ground.

Then there she is, the woman you love walks closer to you as soon as she sees you. You never saw her this furious, her eyes light up in crimson.

"Hands off!" In such fury, she commands and before you know it the red tendrils cover her hands then go straight to the two scientists next to you.

You see them scream fearfully for their lives as they are floating under Wanda's power above you. In a millisecond you hear a loud crack from their bones she crushes.

Without a doubt, they are deformed and die. Wanda throws their body to the ground like they are just a crumpled paper trash.

You feel her pain, anger and sadness yet there's a relieved feeling in her that makes you smile when her eyes slowly turn green again and catch your gaze. In a quick flinch of her finger, the collar on your neck broke and fell off your neck. You try to walk to her but your legs give up on holding your weight and you fall.

Wanda quickly catches you in her arms then lets you lay on her lap as her arms prompts your body up. "Detka? Oh my god, are you okay? I'm here, you are safe now. I will get you out here." She hugs you tight and rocks her body gently with you in her hugs, in a glance of hope it will make you feel better and safer.

“Wanda, did you find her? Clint, Yelena and I are coming with the quinjet to help you.” Natasha informed her through the comm.

“I took all the guards down. I have her with me now.” Wanda replied shortly.

After she responds Natasha, she looks at you and runs her hand on your hair. “I’m sorry, malyshka. I should've not let you go that night. I should've told you that I was so jealous of how close you are with Yelena." Her cry sounds shaky, full of regret and guilt.

You grunt in pain after you let out a little laugh. “Wanda, Yelena likes Kate Bishop, a lot. I– I’m helping her to set up a date with Kate.”

She looks at you perplexed. “What? She likes Kate? Not you?”

You smile weakly, holding the pain as you nod slowly. “I’m so sorry, Y/n. You got hurt because of me.” Her eyes show a huge remorse. “Sssstt.. It’s alright. You could never hurt me. I just feel you.” You stuttered in comforting her.

In a cry, Wanda nods quickly. Her lips quivered, her tears dropped onto you.

"I love you, Wanda."

"I love you too, detka."

You heard an explosion, breaking the old walls to make a quicker exit path to the quinjet for you. Natasha rushed to the both of you.

“Oh my god, y/n! Are you okay? We gotta get you out of here. Steve and Tony already take down the rest of the guards.” Natasha asks and carefully examines your injuries as soon as they get to you.

“I’m okay, Nat. Don’t worry.” You smile, deep down you feel that you gradually gain your energy back after seeing two of your closest people are with you now. Wanda carefully elevates you with her magic and takes you to the quinjet as Natasha and Yelena watch the surroundings.

You float in the air passing Yelena as you get into the jet. “Geez, y/n, you look like hell. We should get your ass back to the compound.” Yelena comments with casual remarks, trying to cover how worried she is about you then follows you and Wanda.

“What are you doing here? Don’t you have a date with Kate tonight?” You joked around as your face weakly forms a smirk at her. Your joke lured an eye roll from Yelena.

“She canceled it.” Natasha casually answers while busy giving medical treatment to some of your injuries.

“Why?” you curiously asked.

“Because you were nowhere to be found and were in danger. Don’t worry, Kate understands the situation." Wanda hears Yelena's answers. Her eyes jump around between you and Yelena.

“Don’t worry, Yelena. I will help you set up the date for you and Kate.” Wanda’s words suddenly jump into the conversation before you can even reply.

Wanda looks at the blonde and smiles as her way to subtly fix the tension that was created between them by her jealousy.

“Really? Thank you, Wanda!” excitement is in Yelena’s tone as she smiles back.

Natasha and her sister leave you alone with Wanda on the flight back. Wanda stays next to you the whole time, holding your hand and loving you with all her heart. She looks at you dearly.

You pull her hand and lay it on your heart shortly before you ask "Tell me what do you feel, Wands."

She smiles and says "I just feel you."

A/n: Welp, that's it for today. Let me know what you think. Reblogs and comments are appreciated. Follow me for more and see you in next!

Cheerio!

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#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #Wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff fanfic #wanda maximoff x imagine #wanda maximoff fanfiction #marvel au #marvel fic #the avengers #avengers au

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melrosing · 23 days ago

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How do you think Dany will get along with the starks (Bran, Sansa, Arya, Rickon, and Jon)

I think in theory she could get along really well with all of them - but it’s a story so I guess I can only imagine there’ll be some friction somewhere down the line, whether that’s upon initial meetings or further along.

w Jon specifically it’s murky because we don’t know what he’s going to be like once he comes back, so you can’t really gage Dany’s chemistry w a character you can’t anticipate. I imagine him coming back as like…. angrier and more hard-headed, but I don’t think the rest of his story would work if it robbed him of all heart. like Beric still has a tenderness about him as he’s died countless times. so in any case, would imagine the two don’t get along perfectly to start with: Dany finds Jon a strange sort of guy who doesn’t go out of his way to accommodate or appease her, and maybe Jon thinks Dany’s quest for the iron throne is a vanity project compared to what he has on his hands. I do think they’ll become a couple, so presumably they overcome initial impressions to achieve a dialogue and then become closer…. but the whole undead Jon thing really sticks in ur teeth lol like I have NO idea where this couple is headed together. where’s this going george

for the Stark sisters, I think both would naturally be attracted to Dany’s character but it’s only to be expected that they’ll have reservations of their own? Dany has a negative opinion of House Stark owing to Ned’s part in Robert’s Rebellion, whilst the Stark sisters may remember what the Targaryens in turn did to their family. then there’s also the fact that neither Stark sister has had the kindest encounters with queens so far, so I think it would be normal if they’re troubled by a new player arriving out of left field?? but as I say I think both Stark girls would admire Dany: Sansa would think Dany is like some kind of platonic ideal of a queen and I think develop an affection for her as she does Margaery (only more bc she could be surer of Dany’s authenticity) and likewise Arya would be in awe of Dany and all she’s accomplished and hero worship her as she does Nymeria. and Dany is a found family kind of girl who I think would be naturally delighted w two new lil sisters. but all of that’s complicated by the context - this is a story, things get lost in translation, there’s a war going on (actually there’s several), etc etc. so as i say there may still be a great deal of scepticism between the three of them.

Bran and Dany….. I mean Bran is a similar case to Jon. I don’t think he’s going to return as some kind of human computer as he does in the show - Bran’s sweet nature is such a key trait of his, it seems it defeats the point of the character to do away with who he is as a person to better accommodate his powers. and I always saw D&D’s doing this as simply a betrayal of the fact that they’ve never known what to do with Bran, much less once magic is involved. but he’ll still be operating on a separate plane to the other characters and I can only assume the way he engages with Dany will be based on what he sees of her future. and idk what that future is, so like…. idk lol. I do also tend to think that Bran will be one of the last characters to arrive at Winterfell (if indeed that is where he spends TLN). Bran supposedly knows all, and you don’t really introduce a character like that until the others have had time to puzzle it out by themselves. otherwise (per the show) you just have bran coldly watching from the sidelines. anyway, in neutral circumstances i think Bran would get along w Dany as he does everyone, and Dany would adore him in turn uwu

and finally Rickon. tbh I think he will just be pestering her for rides on Drogon and then if she ever obliges he’ll start pestering her for a second ride

#ask #daenerys targaryen #jon snow #sansa stark #arya stark #bran stark #rickon stark #asoiaf

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tomkaulitzssgirl · 1 year ago

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can you pls make part 2 for "i'm gonna take care of you"? i'm soo intrigued akcnqmcn

I’m gonna take care of you | Tom Kaulitz 2

warning: heavy angst no spoilers

you stood quietly behind the studio door, where heidi and tom were arguing, screaming at the top of their lungs.

tom had revealed everything to her, telling her he loved you and about your pregnancy. insults flew, about you, about him, you heard the worst things ever.

suddenly the door slammed open, your eyes widened seeing the woman crying. you felt bad, sadness washing over you as she looked at you shaking her head, before giving a glance at your bump and walking away furiously.

tom came out of the studio with a sigh, a cigarette between his lips. he lit it up, taking a puff and blowing the smoke out. you didn’t know what to say or do.

he took your hand and brought you inside, where you could see smashed things on the floor.

“wow…” a gasp escaped out your mouth, making tom chuckle lightly.

“not the first time.” he commented sitting down on the couch and bringing you next to him.

“i feel guilty.” you sighed leaning against his shoulder. were you a bad person?

“don’t. i was gonna do this regardless. now let’s just stop talking about her.” tom sternly said placing his hand on your baby bump, “let’s focus on our family.”

4 months go by…

everything in your life was peaceful, happy and just what you wanted. tom was an amazing boyfriend, treating you like a queen, being super attentive to you and your baby.

bill was already a wonderful uncle, buying gifts for you baby or everything he saw that was unisex.

george and gustav were super caring and loving and you had actually got to know them more and found out how easy going and sweet they were.

your family and tom’s family were as happy as you guys, your mom even cried when she heard the news. and the best thing was, they were about to meet.

the day of the gender reveal finally had arrived, you couldn’t wait to know if it was a girl or a boy. you just wished the baby was healthy, being happy with both, meanwhile tom wanted a boy.

only bill knew what you guys were having, he fought everyone to have this important role. you gladly gave him the permission to know because he had become like a brother to you as well.

the party was ready, everything was set up and beautiful, people you invited were eating and laughing, having fun with each other.

you and tom couldn’t stop being next to each other, either hugging or kissing. you just loved each other too much.

“ew get a fucking room.” gustav commented as he walked past both of you two kissing, making you laugh.

“okay guys it’s time!” bill yelled as he walked towards you two.

everyone crowded around you guys, a giant screen that bill had set up was infront of you.

“i just wanna say, i’m so happy that you guys are together and i’m so excited to meet the baby. i don’t wanna talk much,” he began but was interrupted by georg saying “weird”.

bill gave him a dirty glance as everyone laughed, “as i was saying i don’t wanna talk much, so just watch the video i made.”

he pressed play on a computer and it began. it showed pictures of him and tom when they were kids, pictures of you when you were a kid that you didn’t even know how he got them, pictures of you guys now, and all complete with a beautiful song by ed sheeran: photograph.

at the end of the video, there was a part where it was just bill. “hi guys! i know you’re eager to find out your baby’s gender. i feel kinda powerful being the only one knowing it.” he laughed as he held the envelope that had the gender in his hands.

“well, as much as i want you guys to feel inferior, i know everyone else is here for a good time not a long time, so i just wanna say i love you two so much. now, the real star…” he said and started opening the envelope.

“IT’S A GIRL!” he screamed happily showing the paper to the camera.

pink confetti started falling down as you and tom hugged each other. you cried into his arms from joy and he almost did the same, kissing you repeatedly.

everyone cheered and started to hug you two, congratulating you. it was amazing, a feeling of happiness you had never had.

how did life get so beautiful?

3 months after…

“you ready?” tom asked as he adjusted the collar of his shirt infront of the mirror.

you nodded grabbing your purse, “yeah, so i like okay?” you watched your body in that tight dress you wore, not really liking it. you were seven months now and you had gained weight, your confidence wasn’t the best right now and you thought that you were ugly in everything you put on.

tom sighed putting his hands on your hips, kissing your cheek, “you look fucking hot. stop worrying now.”

he took your hand and dragged you out of the house.

you were going at a party to celebrate the release of tokio hotel’s new song, the place was already packed when you arrived. people were standing up, dancing and eating from the buffet.

“i’m thirsty, is there anything without alcohol?” you asked tom as you scanned the buffet. he asked the waiter immediately.

“yes, i’ll bring it to you soon.”

after a couple of minutes, he brought you a glass of what it had to be a sex on the beach without alcohol.

you drank it, almost immediately disgusted by it. you put down the glass, shaking your head. “it’s not good.”

tom laughed at your reaction, “let’s go find bill.”

some minutes had passed since you were talking to the other members. your head felt dizzy and your whole body was shaking but you didn’t know why.

“tom…” you called out, touching his arm, your eyes lost in a casual point infront of you.

he turned around while laughing but soon his expression faded out and a worried one appeared. “what’s wrong baby? why are your lips blue?”

“baby?”

“you hear me?!”

“Y/N?!”

soon, everything went black.

————————————————-

you woke up slowly, your eyes fluttering open and having problems adjusting to the morning light.

you looked around, this place wasn’t your home. it was too plain to be.

almost immediately you realised you were in a hospital, you looked beside you and there he was, tom holding your hand as his eyes were closed, head pressed against the mattress.

“t-tom…” you called out weakly.

he immediately shot his head up, his eyes widened at the vision of you awake. “baby! oh my god!”

he immediately hugged you as if hadn’t done that in a while.

“why are we here? am i sick?” you asked when he pulled away. he stroked your cheek, shaking his head.

“you…” he seemed to search for the right words to say but there weren’t any, “you were poisoned.”

your eyes got bigger and you sat up, “what?!”

doing that, you noticed something didn’t feel right. your eyes went down to your stomach. your bump wasn’t there anymore.

“w-where’s the baby?” your voice trembled, gulping down the knot that was already forming in your throat.

tom didn’t say anything, he just stared in your eyes, shaking his head. a tear fell down his cheek that he quickly wiped away before standing up, breathing out heavily.

that was all it took to make you understand.

you broke down, like you had never done before. your hands covered your face and your sobs filled the room.

tom, that was pacing back and forth, quickly came towards you wrappings his arms around you, kissing your head repeatedly.

“i’m sorry. i’m so fucking sorry.” he blamed himself. he blamed himself because he took you to that party and if he hadn’t done that, if you just had stayed home like you had said, this wouldn’t have happened.

“h-how…who?” you were trying to hard to understand who would’ve done such a thing.

gaining a bit of strength to answer that question, tom sighed. “heidi.”

suddenly, silence fell in the cold room.

a/n: don’t hate me 😭🫶🏻

#tokio hotel #tokiohotel #tom kaulitz #writing #fanfic #masterlist #fandom #tom kaulitz imagines #tom kaulitz x y/n #tom kaulitz x you #tom kaulitz x reader

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