#reputations fic
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🥃Track 6 - Delicate
*oooooo y'all are in for a doozie, Logan finally breaks*
TAG LIST IS CLOSED
Logan watched you from the other side of the club. Currently, he was still on a high from the 1-2 a couple of hours earlier. But now, he could actually live in the feeling. He had a dopey-kind-of smile as your head leaned back when you laughed at something that Lewis had said. Under the pink and blue strobe likes, you were hypnotizing, and Logan was just another man under your spell.
“You’re staring,” a voice sounded in a sing-song tune. Logan knew exactly who is was and rolled his eyes. He looked down at his drink.
“I’m allowed to stare.”
Charles just clapped him on the shoulder. “Sure mate. You kissed your teammate, but only watching her, it’s kind of creepy.”
Logan hummed before turning to face the Monegasque.
“So it’s not creepy when you get to stare at him?”
Logan’s eyes flickered to Max, who was currently in a deep conversation with Liam Lawson. Charles’s head followed in that direction.
Even under the strobe lights, the American could tell that there was definitely a blush rising on Charles’s face. He laughed as the man sputtered.
“Non! It is different too.”
The blond’s eyes held a teasing glint.
“So you’ve never. . . ?” Logan trailed off as he swished his drink around and raised his eyebrows. Charles took the moment to return the glint and put his hand up to his mouth.
“A man never kisses and tells Logan,” Charles said and ran his finger across his lips, as to zip them closed.
Logan was about to retaliate, but then his lap was suddenly full. He quickly placed his drink down on the table and his hands found their home on your hips, where you had dramatically placed yourself. He looked up and saw a sheepish look on Lewis’s face. However, when he looked back down at you, you seemed totally fine.
“Not drunk out of your mind I hope?” Logan asked. You quickly shook your head and glared up at the Briton.
“Lewis tripped, fell into me, and then I fell into you.”
A look of realization bloomed on his face and then he smiled. “Well, I don’t mind. Means I get to hold you closer.”
Your face reeled back from where it was and you scoffed.
“When did you become such a smooth talker Mr. Sargeant?”
Logan leaned back into your face, lips dangerously close. “Always been sweetheart.”
The two of you were so lost in yourselves that you completely missed the disgruntled looks of Lewis and Charles around you. When Charles looked back to the pair, he groaned out loud at the sight of your faces practically smashed together.
“Lewis? Drinks?”
The Mercedes man didn’t need to be asked twice as he swiftly turned around and headed back to the bar. The future teammates wasted no time to put space between them and the table.
Logan’s hands had respectfully stayed in their place on your hips. You, on the other hand, had moved just a bit to be almost fully in his lap. The kiss was definitely more hungry than the one that was shared on the podium.
This one had more teeth, spit, and tongue.
The atmosphere felt electrifying with all the lights and what Logan deduced to be a smoke machine somewhere.
You finally pulled back, out of breath, and leaned your head on your his shoulder. Your hand reached out and grabbed Logan’s drink, taking a quick sip. You felt his hand tighten on you hip as you teasingly played with the little straw it came with.
Logan squawked when he saw that you had practically emptied his drink.
“You couldn’t get your own?” he whined. “I was enjoying it.”
You rolled your eyes. “Well, I enjoyed it more. You want to get another one? I also need pictures for Instagram. Your dark jeans and Nikes look really good, and make your eyes pop. Damn, never see that color blue.”
Logan flushed at your compliment.
“Is it cool that I said that?” you asked as you got out of the booth.
He rolled his eyes. “It’s perfectly fine. Is it chill that you’re always in my head?”
It was your turn to flush. Your only response was to grab his arm to drag him away. Logan went willingly.
It didn’t take long before you two found yourself back at the bar, but thankfully still some ways away from everyone. Lamborghini had made sure that the club wasn’t too crowded and only allowed F1 personnel. However, that still meant that most of the teams could come, including Williams and McLaren.
Logan saw you wince as you were watching the entrance. He felt the same once he saw familiar people waltz in like they owned the place. Which wasn’t true, but Logan didn’t know the owner. He quickly grabbed both drinks with one hand, and placed the other one on your lower back to guide you to the table that was now occupied with your little group, along with Liam.
He made sure to place you on the inside instead of the end seat.
Max, who had been facing George, could tell that something was off when someone sat beside him. Not wanting to cut his conversation, he quickly glanced at his left, now seeing the two younger drivers. The frowns on your face solidified his wrong feeling. Your faces were close to each other and he could tell that harsher whispers were filling the little space between.
“Max?”
His eyes whipped back to George, who was now frowning. He shook his head a bit.
“Sorry mate. What were you saying?”
“Lando, Oscar, and Alex just walked in.”
Oh.
That was probably the source of yours and Logan’s attitude change. When he glanced back, he was a bit happier to see that you two were now conversing with Liam. However, he could see you trying to wiggle a bit closer to Logan.
It only made sense when a hand clapped his shoulder. It was the hand that was connected to Lando.
“Hey mate!” the curly-haired Briton greeted.
Max smiled as he greeted him back. He might not agree with how Lando treated Logan, but the McLaren driver was still one of his good friends. Over his shoulder, Max saw Oscar and Alex greeting the other drivers. Past them, Pato was awkwardly standing to the side. But Max could see right through him as the Mexican driver kept throwing glances at you.
“Mind if we join?” Alex asked, but didn’t wait for an answer as he and the two McLaren drivers took the pull out chairs to sit on. Oscar looked as if he suddenly remembered someone and waved Pato over, telling him to join as well.
Charles felt off about the whole thing. He could tell that you were uncomfortable, but kept a smile on your face to be polite. Logan, on the other hand, was not as good at schooling his expressions has his face had become rigid.
The Monegasque tried to read your lips as you said something to Logan. He knew it was Italian, but the dark setting made it nearly impossible to do so. But when he saw that Logan was scooching to let you by, he stood up as well, making the table now look at him with questioning faces. He glanced at you before explaining.
“I’m thirsty,” he said, ending with a small laugh.
Logan made sure to tell you to stay with Charles as you now walked back over to the bar. Once there was a bit of distance, you sighed in relief.
“All is good petite abeille?” the Monegasque asked as he tried to get the bartender’s attention. You couldn’t even offer an answer and just shook your head.
“Is it Pato?”
“No, it’s . . . yeah, it is.”
“You want to talk about it?”
Your hands cradled your face as you leaned against the bar. “My time at Arrow was nothing short of absolute hell.”
Charles’s head tilted in confusion. “But you won races?”
A scoff left your lips. “You’ve won races and still get hate. Except you’re Charles Leclerc. Ferrari adores you.”
He crossed his arms. “What does that have anything to do with?”
Maybe that last question was a bit harsh as you now looked at him with such a pitiful look. Charles could almost equate your sad eyes to those of a kicked puppy.
“Would Ferrari tell you to lose close to 6 kilos even though you are already under the weight limit? Would Ferrari tell you that they don’t have enough money to get you a hotel, but can comfortably house everyone else? Would Ferrari purposefully not give you upgrades even though you won the last race? Would Ferrari never post you on any social media because you give the brand a bad look? Would Ferrari put you in a sweatsuit under your regular race suit, claiming that it’d be easier for the car to have weights instead of the driver be heavy?”
Charles couldn’t answer.
“The answer to that is all no, by the way. But that’s exactly what Arrow did to me. I lost closer to 8 kilos by summer break. Logan almost had a heart attack when he saw me. I’ve gained it back, but only because of Andretti’s schedule. I passed out after the sweat suit and they said that my body could have given out at any moment during the race and I could have died if I crashed. There wasn’t enough muscle or body fat to have kept me safe.”
Charles wanted to cry. Logan had offhandedly mentioned that you had gone through a lot of things at Arrow, but not to this extent. He even wondered if you were he reason Logan immediately went home after the race before summer, claiming that there was a family emergency back home.
You could see that he wanted to cry, but you didn’t want him. You gently placed a hand on his shoulder.
“I’m fine now, truly. This opportunity has been the best thing to ever happen to me.”
Charles got a bit closer. “I’m glad that you’re better. Really shows the men that you aren’t as delicate as they think.”
“I’d only be delicate with one person.”
You offhandedly glanced back at the table, seeing Logan looking down at his phone. He was probably on the weather app.
Charles smiled fondly as you were lost in your own moment. You could feel Charles’s eyes on you as you turned to look back at him.
“So, drinks?”
Back at the table, Logan was indeed going through his weather app. There was nothing better to do until you would return. And he was hoping that you’d be back soon before he was dragged into a conversation that he didn’t want to be apart of.
“So Logan, good job today mate.”
The blond froze at the sound of his name escaping from Alex’s mouth. He closed his phone as his head raised slowly. Logan didn’t know why, but Alex talking to him jump started his fight or flight instincts.
Too bad he was a flightless bird.
He tried to give his ex-teammate a smile, but by everyone’s reactions, it probably came out more of a lopsided frown.
“Thanks,” he muttered, eyes flickering, hoping to land on someone safe. Yet, his eyes shot back when he heard a scoff.
“You could be a little more appreciative.”
Logan sighed. Lando just had to say something.
The American turned to the Briton.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he then turned to Alex, “Alex, thank you so much for your encouragement and praise. It really means a lot to me.”
Lando rolled his eyes. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. You think you’re too good for us now that you have a good car?”
Logan’s phone was now on the table and his body was fully turned toward the McLaren driver. He vaguely saw Oscar elbow Lando’s side, but that didn’t deter the curly-headed boy.
“Says the one who rammed into his teammate in the first corner today. Maybe you just aren’t cut out for F1 Lando.”
Logan leaned back into the plush booth with a smirk. Max fought the urge to snort, but deep down he knew he had to deescalate the situation before he had a fist fight on his hands. He was willing that you and Charles would be back soon, but nothing indicated that you were on your way back.
Lando was now leaning forward, almost across George who separated the two. There was fury in his hazel eyes.
“It’s only one mistake compared to your innumerable. Face it. You had luck for one race. Next one, I’ll be passing you as you’ll get lapped.”
“Lando, maybe we should go?”
Max could hug Pato if he could. He knew that Lando could get snippy and say everything wrong if he wasn’t held back.
It’s a shame that Max didn’t know that Logan also wasn’t one to hold back. The snarky smirk had yet to leave the American’s face. He took the opportunity to also lean in over George. The Briton’s hands were placed on both driver’s chests, trying to keep them apart.
“You’re just jealous.”
Lando raised his eyebrows. “Jealous? Of you? You make. me. laugh.”
And to answer, a chuckle escaped Logan’s lips. The drivers at the table couldn’t tell if Logan was doing this out of spite or not. However, this snapping was just a long time coming.
“Yeah, jealous,” Logan bit back. “Jealous because you’ve been here since 2019 and have no wins to your name. Beaten by your rookie teammate in 2023. Beaten by me, the guy who you said had no business being in Formula 1. Now looking at it, maybe you’re just trying to make up for something.”
Lando had had enough and quickly rose to his feet. Everyone else followed. Max took this time to quickly grab the blond’s arm, gently pulling him back. For Lando, it took both Pato and Oscar to hold him back.
“Logan, that’s unfair.”
Logan’s head whipped to where Alex was standing.
“Unfair? You want to talk about unfair Alex? Then let’s talk about how your car always got upgrades. How I was always ordered to let you pass. How Williams said they’d give me a chance, like the one you didn’t have with Red Bull, but they didn’t. How you botched your race and I had to give up my perfectly fine car for the good of the team.”
The blond was seething and Alex was hunching in on himself. If he couldn’t take it, then he shouldn’t have said anything.
“That’s enough Logan.”
He rolled his shoulders as he glanced at his “childhood friend.”
“You have something to say Oscar? Hm?”
Oscar’s eyes fell to the floor. He knew that fighting with Logan was a lost cause. Because, everything he was saying was 100 percent correct. However, Lando now wasn’t having anything with Logan going after the Aussie.
“Hey!” he got the attention back on himself. “Oscar has done nothing but be kind to you, even when you were undeserving.”
Now, a scoff left Logan’s lips.
“Kind?”
Max could tell that this was the breaking point, as he could see the glint of tears in the younger man’s eyes.
“Any of you were nothing but kind. Do you truly believe that the actions you showed me were you being ‘kind?’ If that’s what you think that word means, I feel sorry for your loved ones.”
Logan’s voice was slowly raising, gaining more attention than that which was already on them.
“Alex? Were you being kind when you left me places that I had no clue where I was? That was kind right? Letting me get back late to every meeting because I couldn’t find my way back?”
Logan wanted to let the tears fall, but like he knew, this had been a long time coming.
“Oscar? Was it kind when you let all of my messages and calls be read or go to voicemail? And then you blame me for not wanting to spend time with you anymore? Because the last time I checked, I had to beg you to even tell you things. That’s kind? I hope you treat your girlfriend better than that.”
Oscar, although he didn’t look down this time, looked close to tears as he felt as though someone was ripping his soul apart. Or maybe, that he had done that and was now paying the consequences.
What Logan or the other drivers missed was that you and Charles had finally come back from the bar and were awestruck with how things were going down. You two did not move, scared to set Logan off anymore.
“Lando? You like to talk about being kind. Kind to yourself and fans and fellow drivers. Was it kind when you told me that I should quit because I simply didn’t belong? Or that I should change careers because maybe then people would like me? Or should I tell the group that you told me to disappear because you wanted Oscar to be more focused on the team and not some childhood friend that he was worried about?”
Everyone looked directly at Lando. Under the strobe lights, people could tell that the Briton was flush red. From anger or embarrassment? No one knew.
Max gently pulled on Logan’s arm, trying to get him away from the group.
“I think they get the point Logan,” the Dutchman muttered. But that did the opposite of what he wanted because the American yanked his arm out from his hand.
“The point? Max? The point is that everyone treated me like absolute shit! Even you. Even Charles. Even Lewis. You all want to be better, treat me like a friend but all the harsh words don’t just go away with a follow on Instagram or one paddle game mate.”
From beside you, Charles had the decency to at least look ashamed. You didn’t say anything, and just bit your lip.
Logan pointed at George, the tall Briton now ready for his turn. But it never came.
“George was the only driver to actually give a shit about me. And, no offence, but he was doing the bare minimum. But that small bit meant the world to me.”
You could tell that Logan was losing it. You didn’t look at Charles as you handed him your glass. Thankfully, he took it with no argument.
Logan flinched when he felt your arm tug his. The blond’s head finally felt in exhaustion.
He had bared his heart and soul to a group, who in reality, still didn’t care much for him. But what was done was done.
“Time to go,” you whispered. With a nod from Logan, you reached over to grab your bag. On your way past Max, you quickly thanked him for the time before shit hit the fan. The Dutchman could only give a small nod as you kept Logan in front of you.
You almost breathed a sigh of relief when you got past the drivers. But Lando had to run his mouth one more time.
“Sargeant?”
Logan froze before slowly turning around to look at the McLaren driver. Deep down, he was hoping that some sort of apology would come tumbling out of his mouth. Yet, it was the opposite.
“Stay out of my way.”
The blond male, who had been exhausted, found a little more energy to respond. He faintly smirked as he looked over his shoulder to respond.
“We can’t make any promises now,” he stated before looking down at you, “can we babe?”
pheonix95 has posted
phoenix95 isn't it delicate?
liked by tswizzlef1, venus2, y/n.nation, vogue, and 1,204,094 others
bee_lamborghini ayo the club looks fire 🔥🔥
lambo_duo am I the only one nervous as to what went on during the part?
lambo_fanclub no, so am I . . . but they posted which means they're ok tho? 🤷♀️
venus2 only delicate with you baby 😙
pheonix95 is it chill that you're in my head?
venus2 should be cause you never leave mine 🥰
paddle_sixtet no likes from Charles, max, lewis, or George?? 😭
venus&pheonix you both deserve the party and everything else!
ferrari+lambo i am now a child of divorce
venus2 has posted
venus2 this ain't for the best, but my reputation's never been worse so...
liked by lambo_duo, Dior, formulala_delulu, and 1,940,294 others
f1_gridgang seems like y/n has one move for a party 🤣
swift_on_track the delicate lyrics this weekend >>>>>
lambof1 no likes from the usual 4 on Logan's post too
my_goat_logan WHAT HAPPENED TO MY FAMILY 🤨
phoenix95 gonna love you for you ❤️
venus2 aw, you're being nice ☺️
pheonix95 I can take it back....
venus2 NO - ahem - I'm good ❤️
loscar_no_more if I find out that something happened between some certain drivers, it's on sight 😤
sargeantgirlie I don't want to believe the twitter page, but the lack of comments with the other four makes me nervous
ferrari&lambo_crew God, please bring my family back plssss 🙏
logan.nation unapologetic Logan is everything to me
pheonix&venus THE SECOND PIC OH MY GOSH
TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @disneyprincemuke @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis
#logan sergeant x reader#logan sargeant fic#logan sargeant x reader#logan sargeant imagine#logan sargeant#f1 x driver!reader#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#formula 1 x you#grid dads lestappen#future grid dad lewis#grid bestie george#reputations fic#Logan finally breaks#but it's a good thing#lando is still an asshole#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 edition#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x female reader#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you
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This Ain’t for the Best
Description: Mutual pining. Classic hunting scenarios. Sharing a bed. Wearing the other’s clothes. Confessions. Friends to lovers. Tswizzle title. Need I say more?
Pairing: Dean Winchester x gn!Reader
Warnings: a little bit of violence, me cramming in every cliché i can because i love the classic fanfiction tropes more than i love breathing
Word Count: 5.9k
A/N: i was kicking my feet and giggling as i wrote this, especially when i snuck in criminal minds AND taylor swift references. i love writing and never beta-reading or editing what i’ve written. catharsis.
Crashing at Bobby’s had its benefits.
First, we had the comfort of knowing where we were going to sleep at night. It was good to have a bed waiting that wasn’t in a motel room.
Second, there was almost always good food around. I had a knack for home-cooked meals, and it was much easier to be appreciated for it when I actually had a stove to cook on.
Third, there were boundless opportunities for Sam, Dean, and I to kick back and actually relax.
That’s how I ended up in the kitchen, laughing with Dean over old stories we’d told a million times before. He reached in the fridge, pulling out two bottles after we’d come down from the most recent remembrance of an old case. He cracked open the top of his beer, then my drink, sliding it towards me on the counter. Sam and Bobby strolled in st that moment, pausing when they saw us.
“You both woke up like an hour ago,” Sam said, unamused.
“6pm somewhere,” Dean and I said in unison.
We looked at each other with a small laugh, leaving Bobby and Sam rolling their eyes. I took my drink and stood a few steps away.
“We should really get going, though, Dean,” Sam stated.
“Where?” Bobby asked.
“We were planning on doing a run to the grocery story. I don’t want us to eat up all your food without repaying you, and we’re almost out of beer,” Sam said, pointedly looking at his brother.
“This one needs more of those little fruity drinks, too,” Dean teased, nodding at the bottle in my hand.
“Hey, it’s still a malt liquor. Just one that I like,” I said with a laugh.
They said their goodbyes, and I started walking into the front room. Bobby watched the door for a few moment after the boys left, then turned in the archway and locked his gaze on me as I sat on the couch.
I looked at the bottle in my hand. “I know y’all are all about beer, but I can’t help if I prefer something with a little flavor.”
“That’s not why I’m looking at you,” he grumbled, fed up with me already. “What in the world is goin’ on with you and Dean?”
“Huh?”
He furrowed his brow. “Don’t act all shy, now. You two have been flirting nonstop lately.”
“What’s new? We’re both pretty flirtatious in general.”
“Not like this,” he said with a shake of his head. “I don’t know the last time I saw that boy blushing, or you getting all flustered like a teenager.”
“I am not,” I scoffed. “Nothing’s happening, Bobby.”
“I’ve known your for five years, now, and I’ve known those boys since they were kids. You stayed in my house for a year, too. You can’t hide this kind of thing from me.”
“I’m not hiding anything. I’m an open book.”
Now, he scoffed. “Yeah, and I’m running for president.”
I rolled my eyes, taking another drink. He came closer, sitting down next to me.
“If you keep denying all this…”
I swallowed, finally resigning. “There’s nothing to do about it, Bobby.”
“Yes, there is. You could tell him.”
“It wouldn’t do any good. You know how he is, he doesn’t want to be tied down. If we don’t make any moves or promises or whatever, a lot less doesn’t get broken.”
He raised a brow. “I do know how he is. For you, he’d make an exception.”
“I don’t think so. Besides, it’s all just flirting for him. Doesn’t mean anything.”
“Are you blind?”
I looked at him, brows raising. He shook his head, picking at the label on his bottle.
“Sorry. I just— I know what I’m seeing, and I really don’t think it’s just a little friendly flirting for him, either,” he said, looking at me again. “I really think you should speak up while you’ve got the chance to. We don’t often get good things with lives like ours.”
“I know. I just don’t want to screw things up.”
“You’re gonna end up screwed if you keep pushing it down, anyway.”
I sighed. He took that signal as a time to change the subject, and for that I was thankful.
“Well, let’s find you the next case, huh?”
The next one was an easy find, and it would’ve been great to break the news to the boys when they got back, if not for a very clumsy Sam walking in the door with a twisted ankle.
“You what?” Bobby asked, incredulous.
Sam sighed, pouting. “I rolled it when I stepped in a pothole.”
Dean shook his head, clearly hiding his amusement as he helped his brother hobble towards a kitchen chair.
“So, no case, then?” I asked.
Bobby perked up. “No, you and Dean can still go. I can take care of Sam.”
“Bobby…” I warned, seeing through him instantly.
“Yeah, that’d be great,” Dean said, cutting off my death stare. “When was the last time we went on a case, just you and me?”
I looked at him.
“Seriously, you guys can go without me,” Sam said. “It might be good for you, Y/N. You seem a little restless.”
“I am not,” I defended.
Bobby chuckled. “Sure, you’re not. But I’m not suggested, I’m telling you. Get out of my house.”
I glanced at him, offended. “I am a delight.”
“You are, but I still want you out. You become much less delightful when you’re antsy.”
Dean laughed. “Come on, it’s only a state over, right? If we start driving now we can make it by sundown.”
I took a moment.
“Alright,” I nodded, heading towards the stairs to gather my things.
The case was a hot mess, to say the least. We couldn’t figure out what we were hunting to begin with, and the only true consistency is that the deaths were messy, leaving each victims with missing livers. It wasn’t until we were at the most recent site of the death that things took a little bit of a turn.
“What do you think?” Dean asked, leaning in my direction.
I shrugged, looking around the house.
“It seems… clean.”
“I mean, I guess. We haven’t found hex bags or EMF readings—”
“No,” I cut him off, gesturing around the living room. “Like physically clean. Nothing is out of place. Look at the mantle.”
I walked over, using my gloved hand to wipe along the surface. I showed him my hand.
“Clean. Not even dust.”
He raised a brow. “And that matters because…”
“Because we’re supposed to be looking for some monster-unknown that never cleans up their messes. Every other scene we’ve been to has been a wreck, so why is the only thing out of place the blood stains on the floor? This is also the first time it’s been in the victims house.”
He paused. “You’ve been watching Criminal Minds again, haven’t you?”
I rolled my eyes, taking off the glove.
“That’s not important right now,” I shook my head, standing next to him again. “And, for the record, it’s helping our case.”
“Right,” he chuckled. “Well, profiler, why don’t you tell me more about what you’re gathering from the scene.”
“Don’t patronize me,” I said with a laugh.
He smirked, placing a hand on my back.
“Let’s get out of here and figure out why things changed.”
We followed dead-end leads all over town, until we hit a lucky streak.
“Check this out,” Dean said, calling me over to the table in our room. “Remember that dive bar our last vic was seen at? Look at this dude’s last social media post.”
I walked over, resting a hand against the table as I leaned in. I looked at the laptop, raising a brow.
“Same place.”
“Same place,” he confirmed. “Wanna check it out? See if anything suspicious is up?”
“You sure you don’t just want to hit the bar?”
He looked up at me with a quirked brow.
“What do you think I am? Drinking on the job. I’d never,” he feigned innocence.
I snorted. “Right. So not you.”
“Leave in ten?”
“Sounds good to me.”
We hit the road soon after, winding up at the bar with our eyes peeled for any suspicious activity. There was plenty for us to see in a seedy town like this, but there was only one interaction that truly piqued our interested. I nodded at the man who was paying a little too much special attention to a woman, drawing Dean’s gaze in that direction. He was equally skeeved out. We kept an eye out for another hour or so before the weird activity took another step into the creep category.
We followed out the man who we caught following the woman, all the way to a neighborhood just outside the city. We made our move as soon as the man walked up to her house.
I followed Dean up to the house, and we started to slink around, waiting for any sign of trouble. I first checked through a window near the front of the house.
“Nothing,” I said, motioning for us to move further.
He took the lead, and we came up on a window that looked into the dining room. He slowly looked inside.
“Oh, you’ve gotta be freakin’ kidding me,” Dean mumbled, pulling his head back from the window.
“What?”
“Well, do you want the chance to play out your little crime show fantasies?”
I raised a brow. He sighed, shaking his head.
“That’s not— well, it is a monster in there, but not our kind of monster,” he said, tilting his head.
“It’s a human?”
He nodded. “Looks like it. Nothing supernatural that I can see. She’s passed out now, but let’s get a move on before he starts in on her.”
He started walking towards the back of the house, but I stopped him before we got to the door.
“Can— How do we do this?”
“What do you mean?”
“That’s a human. We can’t just chop his head off or exorcise him.”
“We could still stab him.”
“But should we?”
He gave me a very unamused look, waiting for me to make my point.
“Can we attempt to just— Kick his ass and leave him to deal with life in prison? Only go for the shot if it’s necessary.”
He softened. “He killed people, Y/N, does he really deserve mercy here?”
“Do you really think the prison system is mercy?” I asked, earning a slight chuckle. “I just feel weird about killing humans unless our lives are in immediate danger.”
“Okay,” he nodded. “Okay, we’ll play it your way. But if anything goes sideways—”
“Then you feel free to shoot him.”
He nodded curtly, then we continued to the door. He opened it carefully, and we stepped inside, checking our surroundings before we headed towards the woman in the dining room. We saw the man first, his back to us as he sat across the table from her.
“Playing house? Really?” Dean quipped, causing the man to whip around.
My gun was pulled before the man had a chance to stand up and react. He looked between us, obvious annoyance on his face.
“You’re not cops,” he stated.
Dean smirked. “No, we are much worse news for scumbags like you.”
“Now,” I started, “you can try and fail to fight your way out of here, or you can sit still while my partner here makes sure you’re sitting nice and pretty for when the cops do show up.”
Dean moved before he had a chance to formulate a response, dragging him out of the chair. The man tried to put up a fight, but it was pretty quickly silenced by means of a fist to the face. Dean left him on the ground after a few minutes and a roll of duct tape.
“Nice,” I commented, then put away my gun.
I moved to the woman at the table who was still passed out. I checked for a pulse, and when I was sure she was still breathing, I started undoing the binding that kept her to the chair. Dean called in an anonymous tip to the police station as I finished up clearing her of everything. She started waking right as I was about to try and move her to the couch.
“Hey, hey,” I said quietly, trying to give a little comfort before her panic set in. “You’re safe now, alright? You’re fine.”
Her eyes opened, and she immediately clung to me when she saw the man on the ground incapacitated.
“What happened?” she asked with a quivering voice.
“Me and my friend Dean saw this guy creeping around your house. We wanted to make sure everything was okay, and when we found out it wasn’t, we found a way in. The cops are on the way now.”
She nodded. “Thank you. Both of you.”
I glanced back at Dean with the ghost of a smile on my face. He raised his brows at me.
“Why don’t we get you to the couch?”
“You’re not staying?” she asked, still in shock.
“No, we gotta leave,” I said, helping her to the couch. “We’ll stick around for a few minutes outside till the cops get here, though.”
“Okay,” she nodded along absentmindedly as she laid on the couch.
I walked back to Dean, motioning for us to go outside. He looked back down at the man for a moment who was still passed out, then followed behind me. We got back to the Impala and waited.
“Weird to be thanked,” I said, watching the house.
He hummed. “Doesn’t happen often, that’s for sure.”
“I can’t believe we were accidentally hunting a serial killer.”
He snorted. “I’m surprised there’s not more crossover when we hunt.”
I hummed in agreement. “I also wonder why things changed so much. From the murders messy and public to being more confined in the homes.”
“Who knows,” he said, shaking his head. “Monsters make a hell of a lot more sense than people do.”
“You got that right.”
Soon enough we saw flashing lights coming down the street. We watched some officers step out of the first car, and a few more get out of an SUV.
“Is that FBI?” Dean asked, looking intently.
“I mean, we just found them a serial killer. They’ve probably been on high alert,” I said.
He nodded, and we watched for another moment as they prepared to go inside.
“Man, those vests are cool as hell in real life, too,” I commented.
“Alright, that’s enough,” he wrapped up the conversation with a laugh.
He pulled off the sidewalk at that, and started driving in the opposite direction of the cops. We decided to stay the night at the motel, neither of us awake enough to get back to Sam and Bobby. He pulled into the parking lot, and we trudged inside.
“At least we aren’t covered in monster guts this time,” I said as I fell onto the mattress.
“Right?” He chuckled. “Cool if I take the first shower?”
“Of course. I’ll be here.”
He shut the door of the bathroom, and I let out a sigh. All of the teamwork bull crap we’d been doing certainly didn’t help my case, but I could at least be thankful he didn’t want to go the bars and find a hookup. I threw my arms over my eyes and sighed.
“Hey,” I heard Dean’s voice call out, his hand on my knee.
I uncovered my eyes. “Sorry. Must’ve dozed off.”
He smiled. “Go take a shower.”
“You sayin’ I need one?” I asked with a quirked brow.
“Yeah. You’re a mess,” he replied, a playful glint in his eye. “I don’t know how I sat in a car with you all day, to be honest.”
I scoffed, getting up. He moved enough for me to get by, but didn’t let me get far before he started talking again.
“Movie tonight?” he asked.
I rustled through my bag, pulling out my pajama shorts.
“Sure.”
“Any requests?”
“Uh,” I started, still looking for a clean top. “Maybe a comedy. We could use something funny.”
“Good point.” He stared for a moment as I kept digging. “You missing something?”
“I can’t find my t-shirt. I thought I packed three in here.”
“Do you want one of mine?”
I paused, considering the offer. One one hand, I wouldn’t have to wear a cami to bed and risk accidentally flashing him in my sleep. One the other, I’d be wearing his shirt and that would be a sure way to get me in my own head. The risks of the first definitely outweighed my lack of self control.
“That would be awesome.”
He walked to his own bag, pulling out a shirt that matched the one he wore and handing it to me.
“I still think wearing our outside clothes to bed worked just fine.”
“Did you ever feel rested doing that?” I asked.
He sighed dramatically. I laughed.
“Exactly my point,” I said. “Most of your well-being has to do with mindset, Dean.”
He grumbled to himself as he settled into bed, and I took that as my chance to get in the bathroom. My shower was quick, especially since Dean used up most of the hot water. I knew I should’ve gone first, but it forced me not to stay in forever. I pulled on his shirt and my shorts, trying not to let myself smile when I saw myself in the mirror wearing his clothes. I walked back into the room before I allowed myself to think too hard.
He looked at me as I walked out, a smile creeping on his face. I fought back my own to raise a brow as I lingered at the foot of my bed.
“What?”
He shrugged. “Funny seeing you in my shirt.”
“Looks better on me than it ever did on you,” I sassed with a smirk, crawling into bed.
“Can’t argue with that,” he noted, still watching me. He cleared his throat a moment later, looking at the TV screen. “Uh, I found something, I think. They had Step Brothers on demand.”
“Oh, perfect,” I said as he clicked play.
We settled into a comfortable silence for a while, and I cuddled into the duvet. After we were halfway through the movie, I gathered the blankets around me even more.
“Is it just me, or is it freezing in here?” I asked, looking over to see Dean still sitting above the covers.
“It’s a little cold,” he shrugged, then looked at me. “I can check the heater.”
I nodded as he got up and crossed the room. He held a hand out, a puzzled look on his face after a moment. He smacked it with his hand, and still felt nothing.
“Hm. Hang on,” he said, moving to the phone. “Hi, I think the heater in here’s broken.”
A pause.
“Ah, great. Okay, thanks.”
He hung up the phone, looking to me apologetically.
“They said the heating’s down in the whole place.”
I sighed. “That sucks.”
He sat back in his bed, looking at me for a moment before he spoke again.
“I know it’s been a while since we had to, but do you wanna come sleep in my bed tonight? I run hot, it might keep you warm.”
“I know. I had to sleep next to you in the summer, and it was like roasting in an oven,” I chuckled.
“See? It’ll work perfect when you’re cold,” he said, standing again.
He pulled the covers back, getting underneath and patting the mattress next to him. I cursed myself for finding this case in the first place.
“Just don’t complain if I kick you in my sleep,” I said, getting out of my bed.
He chuckled. “I’m not worried about it.”
I got into his bed, and he threw the covers over me. He then reached over top of me to grab the remote, pressing play and slinging an arm around my shoulders. I pulled the duvet up to my chin, leaning into his side.
This position put me in a delicate spot, and I found that to be true more and more with every passing minute. Every time he laughed, I felt it reverberate in his chest. Every time he talked to me, I’d look up to see his face inches from mine. Every time he moved, he held me a little tighter.
In short, Bobby was all too correct about me being screwed.
“Hey,” Dean said, voice soft. “You okay?”
“Mm?”
I looked at him, once again trying not to think about the proximity.
“You always laugh at this scene. You didn’t make a sound this time.”
“Oh,” I chuckled, looking towards the screen. “Sorry, I must be exhausted.”
“Is that all? Seems like there’s something on your mind.”
“Alright, Dr. Phil,” I joked.
“Seriously,” he said, squeezing my shoulder. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. I think I just need some sleep,” I replied, glancing at him again with half a smile.
He quirked a brow, clearly not believing me, but willing to drop the subject.
“Okay. You know you can always talk to me?”
“I know.”
He smiled softly, then looked back at the TV as he shut it off. He settled into bed, still holding onto me. I snuggled into his side, using his chest as a pillow. I felt him breathe deep before he shut off the light.
“Goodnight, sweetheart.”
“Night, Dean.”
I woke up the next morning before he did, and decided there was little harm in remaining there. I shut my eyes, letting myself enjoy the fact that I was still snuggled against him. It gave me a moment to pretend he was mine, at least for the morning. I listened to his breathing, and wondered if he ever dreamt about me in the same way I did about him. As if on cue, his arm tightened around me a little as he stirred. His thumb brushed against my shoulder where his hand had snuck under the sleeve of the t-shirt, though I couldn’t tell if he was really awake until I felt a soft kiss against the top of my head.
At that moment, I decided it was probably best to continue pretending I was still asleep.
He stayed that way for a little while, his hand still against my shoulder, making little patterns with his thumb. It took everything in me not to move when I felt him brush a few stray pieces of hair away from my face, and even more when he let his hand linger against my cheek for when felt like a few seconds too long to be purely friendly.
I wondered if he was always like this when I wasn’t awake. Extra attentive, and sure not to wake me. Maybe that’s why I somehow remained asleep every time I fell asleep in the car that normally jostled me around like a rag doll with his driving. I wondered even more if Bobby was right about something else he’d said days ago: the unrequited feelings might not be so unrequited after all.
I nestled my head against his chest, trying to give him a warning that I was about to open my eyes, and he quickly pulled his hand away from my face. I took in a breath, blinking slowly as I let the light seep in for the second time that morning.
“Morning,” he greeted quietly, his voice still soft and raspy from tiredness.
I smiled. “Morning.”
“You hungry?” he asked, drawing my attention to him.
I nodded, leaning back a little to see him better.
“Very, and I saw a café on the way into town that looked good,” I said.
He smiled softly, shutting his eyes for a moment. Then, he yawned, finally sitting up. He turned and looked at me as I stayed laying.
“How’d you sleep? Warm enough?”
“Thanks to you, yeah,” I replied, stretching. “I’m scared to get out of bed, now, though.”
He patted my leg over the covers, “If you want food, that should be motivation enough.”
“Good point.”
I reluctantly climbed out of bed as he walked into the bathroom to get ready for the day. It was cold, but not unbearable. I decided to throw on some clothes in the room since he always took a while in the bathroom. By the time he was finished, all I needed to do was wash my face and brush my teeth, then we were off.
Breakfast was short and sweet, and we made it back to Bobby’s in record time. We strolled in the door, seeing Sam gimping around the kitchen as soon as we walked in.
“Still letting that ankle beat your ass?” I asked immediately.
He laughed. “Trust me, if I had any control over it, this wouldn’t have been a problem in the first place.”
“Maybe you just wanted out of the hunt,” I said in reply.
“Oh yeah, I loved hanging out and making Bobby bring me ice packs all day. Dream vacation, actually.”
Dean shook his head with a smirk. “You didn’t miss out on much anyway.”
“How’d it go?” Sam asked as he took a seat.
I looked to Dean who was already glancing in my direction. I shrugged.
“We stopped a serial killer, actually,” I noted.
Sam gaped. “And I ‘didn’t miss much’?”
“Just knocked him out and called the cops. Not much fun, anyways,” Dean shrugged. “Oh, we did find maybe the best pancakes I’ve ever had, though.”
I hummed in agreement enthusiastically, nodding.
“They were freaking incredible,” I said, then looked back at Sam. “And they had like, real, fresh maple syrup.”
“Unlimited stacks when you bought the platter, too,” Dean chimed in with a gleeful smile.
“You two sound like an old married couple,” Sam scoffed out with a laugh. “What, did you fall asleep together after reading the newspaper, too?”
“After watching a movie, actually,” Dean corrected, grabbing a beer from the fridge. Then, he looked at me. “Did you want anything?”
“I’m okay.”
Sam looked between us, a raised brow and an amused look on his face.
“You two actually fell asleep together?”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s what you choose to focus on?”
He smiled mischievously, then looked at Dean.
“Making moves on her, now?”
Dean swallowed, glaring at his brother with wide eyes. I furrowed my brow, about to see if I could prod Sam for information, but Bobby walked in before I had the chance.
“Hey, you two. How was the hunt?”
Dean let out a breath. “Not real eventful. I could use some sleep.”
He started walking out of the room, all of us watching as he left. Bobby turned to me first, a questioning look on his face.
“Don’t look at me,” I said with my hands up in defense. “I think Sammy pissed him off.”
“Real smooth, Sam,” Bobby commented.
Sam scoffed, shaking his head. Bobby merely sighed, going to take a seat across from Sam. I looked at them both, hands on my hips.
“Why do I get the feeling you two know something I don’t?”
“Did Dean not talk to you?” Sam asked, looking at me.
“We talk plenty.”
“That’s not what I mean. He said he was gonna talk to you when the next case was over,” he stopped, then looked at Bobby. “Case came and went, and still nothing.”
Bobby shrugged. “Out of our hands, Sam. Told you not to meddle.”
I sighed in annoyance. “You two are children, you know that?”
“Hey,” Bobby said, offended.
“I’m gonna take a walk,” I said finally, turning for the door.
The second I was halfway out, they started talking again, but I couldn’t bring myself to care too much about what they said. Clearing my mind sounded like the best option, and I was determined to do it.
I started walking around the yard, music blaring from my phone to keep me preoccupied as I watched the sky light up with a million different colors. I found an old car with a relatively clean exterior and decided to climb onto the hood. I leaned back, watching the sky as it turned darker, the stars slowly peaking out.
“Room for one more?” Dean’s voice asked from behind me.
“Come on up,” I said, scooting over a bit.
He came and sat next to me, looking up at the sky. He let out a slow breath, then looked at me.
“Taylor Swift?”
“You know it,” I replied.
He smiled, turning his head back.
“Stars are coming out,” he commented.
“They are. You should’ve seen sunset, it was gorgeous.”
He scooted closer, leaning his head against mine silently. After a moment, I let myself lean against his shoulder a little more.
“You okay, Dean?” I asked after a beat.
“Of course. Why?”
“I dunno. You just seemed a little off when we got back today.”
He sighed. “Yeah. It’s— It’s nothing.”
“You sound like me, now.”
He chuckled. “Guess we’ve got the same bad habit, huh?”
“Yeah, guess so.”
We stayed there until it got dark enough to really see the stars come out, not moving even when the chill of the night started creeping in. I readjusted my head against his shoulder, preparing myself to speak again.
“Did you really follow me out here just to look at stars?”
I felt him still. Then, after a moment, I sat up a little straighter and looked at him. He glanced back at me, clearly feeling caught out.
“Thought you could use some company.”
I raised a brow, and he smirked, looking away.
“Alright, you got me,” he said, “What gave it away?”
“First off, I’ve known you for years,” I started, nudging him in the arm. “Second, Sam and Bobby were all uppity about the fact that you apparently told Sam you had something to talk to me about.”
“I swear, he can’t keep a secret to save his life when it comes to stuff like this,” he said, rubbing at his face.
“Well, try me,” I said, unable to keep my eyes off of him. He was extra cute all flustered. “I’m a good listener.”
He let out a breath, then looked at me, scanning my face for a moment.
“I know I’ve got a certain type of reputation—”
“You?! No way,” I exclaimed with a smile, my eyes wide.
He laughed. “Exactly my point.”
“You know I don’t care about that, though. Reputations are a one-sided story.”
He hummed. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”
He sighed, looking back at the sky for a moment.
“I just,” he started, giving a shrug, “I feel like it— Like it makes people feel like I never want anything but a hookup, you know?”
“It makes people feel that way?”
“I’m that easy to read, huh?” he asked, looking at me again with a faint smile. “You. I mean you.”
“I gathered that much.”
He laughed softly, as did I.
“How’d you know?”
“I had suspicions fueled by Bobby. Then you kissed me and started being all affectionate when you thought I was asleep this morning.”
His eyes widened. “You were pretending to be asleep? That’s so not fair!”
“Hey, I woke up snuggled into my own personal space heater, I didn’t exactly want to be up and at ‘em.”
He rolled his eyes, tugging me into his side with an arm around my shoulders once more.
“How long has it been for you?” he asked quietly.
“I don’t even know. I guess I started realizing it a year or so ago.”
“That’s embarrassing for me, then. I knew the second I met you,” he said with a laugh.
“Dean,” I said with surprise. “It’s been half a decade! No wonder Bobby got on my ass about it before we left.”
“Well, hey, Sammy’s been on mine for a couple years. You got off easy up till now.”
I laughed. “I guess so. To be fair, we were flying under the radar for quite a while, though. The incessant flirting the past few weeks is what got us in trouble.”
“Why did you start being extra flirty, anyway?” he asked, resting his cheek against the top of my head.
“I don’t know. I guess I was, like, subconsciously seeing a window. You haven’t been doing your normal bar hookups the past few months, so I thought maybe there was a reason for it,” I paused. “Though, finding out you’ve been crushing on me for five years kind of makes me question that.”
He snorted out a laugh. “Easier to keep my mind off you that way. That sounds terrible. I just— I never thought in a million years you’d think anything of me.”
“Well, when did you realize I might?”
He sighed. “You remember a couple weeks back when we were taking down that vamp nest? You easily could’ve died, and we hugged afterwards, but when I pulled back I… I saw that look in your eyes that seemed an awful lot like how I look at you when you’re not paying attention. I wanted to kiss you, and I didn’t doubt in that moment that you would’ve let me if I had.”
I paused. “Why didn’t you?”
“I was scared. We’ve been friends for so long, and we practically do everything together. I didn’t want to ruin anything on the off chance that I was reading those signs all wrong.”
“You weren’t.”
He fell quiet for a moment. I looked up at him, and he looked back at me as I did. He quickly wet his lips, drawing my gaze downward before my eyes flicked back up to his. His lips parted momentarily. Then…
“We should get back inside. It’s getting cold out here,” he said quickly.
I nodded curtly, pulling away to let him get off the hood first. He gave me a hand, helping me down next. We walked back to the house quietly, saying soft goodnights before we went to separate rooms.
I was all settled in for the night, cozy in my bed with a book in hand. Then, I heard a knock on the door. I grumbled as I got up, annoyed that I had to leave the comfort of a mattress that wasn’t a sure cesspool of germs I didn’t want to think about. I flung the door open.
“Someone better be dying or I’m gonna kick some ass for—”
Dean’s lips crashed into mine, effectively silencing me from my rant. I melted after a few seconds of mental delay, my hands gripping onto the material of his shirt as his cradled my face. I felt him smile into the kiss, drawing my closer with arms that snuck around my waist, holding me tight. He wasted no time in deepening the kiss once he was sure that the signs were all giving him a positive response.
We finally broke apart a few minutes later, breathing heavy with pounding hearts.
“I figured I should stop letting opportunities pass me up,” he said with a nervous chuckle.
I nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, good thinking.”
His eyes scanned over me, his chest still heaving.
“You wouldn’t happen to need another space heater for the night, would you?”
“I run cold, what can I say?” I replied with a smirk, and a spark in my eye.
He smiled, walking me into the room with his lips on mine, kicking the door shut behind him.
(EDIT: starting taglists now! let me know if you want to be on any!)
FULL MASTERLIST | BUY ME A COFFEE
#i haven’t written a spn fic in years this felt good#dean winchester#dean winchester fic#dean winchester one shot#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester x female!reader#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x reader#supernatural#supernatural fanfiction#delicate#reputation#taylor swift#gender neutral reader
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Gortash designs and builds mechanisms so I imagine he has to be able to sketch fairly decently in order to sketch his projects and designs. And I'm imagining a pile of charcoal sketches of Durge, done over their entire acquaintance, starting out with sketches of them in battle and then slowly becoming more detailed and intimate and as they do, the titles changing from things like "The Bhaalspawn" and "Bhaal's Chosen at Their Bloody Work" to "The Chosen in Contemplation" and finally just Durge's name
#it's speculated that the individual pictured in these sketches is [name] who was thought to have resolved the absolute crisis#But the existence these drawings may suggest it was merely a hoax to improve their reputation#Idk man I just love the idea of Gortash keeping this series of sketches of durge#I admit a crazy fic idea I've been rotating is the idea of an art history commentary set 100 years after the events of the game covering#The art found in Gortash's estate after his death and how people would interpret it and their potential relationship#And link to first hand descriptions of the time and academic papers and all that#Stuff like “see Elerrathin et al for analysis on the class dynamics of formal portraits and new money during this period” or something#enver gortash#dark urge#dark urge x gortash#durgetash#baldur's gate 3#bg3#bg3 spoilers
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Etho's head is still strangely fuzzy, filled with something like a combination of cotton and bloodlust and hunger. He's sitting in the middle of their base. Cleo is tearing down the dripstone, complaining the whole time that Etho hadn't even built it right. Grian is fretting over his magma cube, even though his task is done. They both keep checking the door, and also checking on Etho as they wait nervously to find out if the apocalypse that had happened that past session was going to actually wear off now that the task was done.
Etho sits in the middle. The bloodlust and hunger is swirling around, sure, but the thing he feels most is the cotton. The fuzzy not-quite-there feeling. Something fuzzy and strange and slow, like his thoughts are made of syrup and death and safety, and...
And it hits him all at once what has happened, when Cleo puts a hand on his shoulder, tells him that they'll keep him safe until it wears off. The bloodlust and hunger are far away, replaced with that blank sense of safety. He leans into the touch. "Thanks, Cleo. That was all pretty wild, huh?" he says.
He doesn't really hear the responses. He feels Cleo's cold, dead hands, and even though they really shouldn't, they feel soft.
It hits him all at once. He'd say he's not sure how it happened, but he knows. He may have a reputation as cold, a loner, a survivor, but what he really is--everything he loves goes up in smoke, is the thing. Dogwarts, Bdubs, Joel, TIES--all of them, up in smoke around him, flames licking at his feet. It's nice if he can pretend he doesn't care. It's nice to pretend he's cold. That it won't hurt him this time. That he won't watch the smoke and fall apart this time.
Someone who doesn't know him, they might even believe it.
Cleo walks over to say something to Grian and Etho holds them in his vision and--breathes. The cotton isn't wearing off, but looking at them, he doesn't feel hungry at all. And he'd say he doesn't know how it happened, but he does.
It's love, all over again.
He wonders how much it'll hurt this time when it's done, but right now, he feels blessedly safe again. Grian and Cleo get into an argument. He watches the red of Cleo's hair and decides he made an okay choice, this time, for the thing that's going to kill him in the end.
Her hair already looks like fire.
He rubs his head and leans back where he sits. He should keep his mouth shut while he's still half-zombie, so that he doesn't say anything stupid like that out loud. He's pretty sure Cleo wouldn't appreciate it. Or maybe she would. You can never know, with a zombie like that one. That's part of what makes her perfect.
#secret life smp#secret life spoilers#ethoslab#a bee fic#I AM FEELING SOME KIND OF WAY ABOUT THEM OKAY.#you can read this as romantic or as platonically as you'd like btw#i am just. feeling something about cletho#and also about etho who has a REPUTATION for being a cold-blooded survivor but always seems to be attached to SOMETHING he loses#and loses part of himself with.
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as an unapologetic fan of the dreamworks trolls franchise, i have Many Opinions about the upcoming movie, but all i can seem to focus on atm is how wild things would be if the events of movies 1 & 2 hadn't yet occurred and one day john dory pops up out of nowhere looking for branch and the entire troll village tries to process the fact that branch, yes branch was once in a wildly successful boy band
#if this isnt a fic yet can someone please start writing#trolls branch#trolls poppy#trolls#dreamworks trolls#trolls 3#trolls band together#broppy#poppy would lose her fucking mind#i feel like the franchise has gotten a little disconected from the original movie#but can we remember that branch has spent almost his ENTIRE LIFE being this reclusive asshole and that's a hard reputation to shake
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big reputations - part five
series masterlist // previous // next
ASKING DANIEL RICCIARDO THE MOST POPULAR F1 FAN QUESTIONS
comments
user1 this interview further proves that max is daniel’s emotional support boyfriend.
↳ user2 was that ever up for debate?
↳ user1 no, but you get what i mean.
user3 oh, he’s got those stupid stars in his eyes again. this man is down bad.
user4 i love how he never brushes off questions about daphne. every single time he answers the questions about her
↳ user5 take notes joe alwyn. this is how you talk about mother daphne.
↳ user4 the shade towards joe. this fandom will never let him rest.
user6 these two are never beating the dating allegations.
↳ user7 i don't think they want to
↳ user6 oh for sure, these two want to know how far this whole thing is going to go
user8 even if they aren't dating it's such an adorable friendship
↳ user9 it'll be official when he meets ryan and blake. that's when you know they are actually dating.
↳ user8 or when she meets christian and max, oh wait.
↳ user9 that's actually a good point
user10 someone stop this man from being so down bad for daphne.
user11 i am loving that max is daphne and daniel's third wheel.
↳ user12 i'm living for max teasing daniel. you know this man does it constantly and never let's daniel rest
↳ user11 oh i know max has never given him a moment of peace.
george russell everyday i am reminded that daphne jones fans are a different breed.
lando norris i would ask why but i have been on twitter today. apparently dts is trending on netflix
alex albon charles, mate, you've got the daphne fans crying.
charles leclerc oh god, what did i do now?
fernando alonso season 1 episode 8
charles leclerc oh.
daniel ricciardo is that why we're trending? i thought old tweets of mine were found and i was getting cancelled
esteban ocon have you said things that’ll get you cancelled?
daniel ricciardo no, but it’s a genuine fear estie!
max verstappen at the ‘girlies’ have joined in on our mutual hatred for zak (oscar and lando you saw nothing)
oscar piastri never thought i would see the day max verstappen said ‘girlies’
yuki tsunoda added one person
yuki tsunoda speaking of daphne jones ARE YOU TWO DATING RICCIARDO??
george russell yuki who did you add??
unknown number hello, it's liam lawson.
george russell oh cool.
daniel ricciardo i don't feel like i have to expose my personal life to you people. i already see you too much.
max verstappen stop being a pussy and ask her out.
daniel ricciardo how about you shut the fuck up for once?
charles leclerc in the words of arthur, 'uh oh, the girls are fighting'
logan sargeant arthur's chronically online so it doesn't surprise me that he knows what that is.
valtteri bottas have you asked her out daniel?
nico hülkenberg i have to admit this is the highlight of my year, have you done it yet ricciardo??
kevin magnussen yes, have you?
mark webber MAN UP RICCIARDO! FUCKING DO IT ALREADY!
jenson button no pressure or anything, but have you?
daniel ricciardo oh for fucks sake. i hate all of you.
liam lawson i'm so confused.
liam lawson i thought they were dating already? considering what ajdbfwei
max verstappen sorry, liam is currently out of commission.
george russell why is that so fucking threatening? what did you do verstappen?
max verstappen nothing. liam is just out of it for the next 20-30 minutes
sergio perez i have never seen max's body move so fast. i fear liam is unconscious.
carlos sainz what the hell is happening?
daniel ricciardo what the hell did you do to liam? is he okay?
max verstappen liam is okay. i pinky swear it.
daphne jones what happened?
max verstappen i was not going to let liam ruin the magnificent plan that i made. he had to be silenced.
daniel ricciardo you make it sound like you killed the poor guy
daphne jones he makes it sound like he's a mafia hitman
max verstappen i could totally be a hitman.
daniel ricciardo cat-dad verstappen could never be a hitman. mad-max however is a different story.
max verstappen i could be a hitman who loves cats. hitmen have many sides to them daniel.
daniel ricciardo do you think this man could be a hitman?
daphne jones that man could never be a hitman
daniel ricciardo could max be a hitman?
charles leclerc absolutely not
oscar piastri no fucking way
sabrina carpenter i'm going to need context but the answer is no
max verstappen fuck you guys. i could be hitman.
daphne jones face it max, you could never be one.
sabrina carpenter however this version of max and charles could totally be hitmen
charles leclerc how the hell?
sabrina carpenter tiktok is a wonderful place.
daphne jones i thought it was the countless twitter tags asking if you had seen it already?
sabrina carpenter oh no it came up on my for you page. it was a video called f1 quotes i quote on the daily. i, of course spiralled when i saw that specific part.
sabrina carpenter my favorite driver is kimi.
charles leclerc well he's retired. so who's your favorite driver on the grid right now?
sabrina carpenter fernando alonso
daniel ricciardo wow, that's so mean.
oscar piastri i would've said the same thing just to annoy you.
daniel ricciardo look who's no longer my favorite grid son
charles leclerc what the fuck? i'm a part of this group chat too.
daniel ricciardo you're on thin fucking ice until you tell xavi off or someone at ferrari.
max verstappen you can't seriously still be bitter about singapore
daniel ricciardo OF COURSE I CAN! HE WAS SACRIFICED MAX! LIKE A LAMB TO SLAUGHTER! I CAN BE BITTER IF HE WON'T!
sabrina carpenter i think charles has no choice but to enter his reputation era.
oscar piastri not yet, he hasn't hit rock bottom yet.
charles leclerc and, in the rookie's opinion, what is rock bottom?
oscar piastri dnf, dns, dsq
max verstappen if at any point charles gets dsq'd i will be calling oscar a psychic.
daniel ricciardo WHY WOULD YOU PUT THAT OUT THERE OSCAR??
sabrina carpenter so, mom, dad, are we going to qatar??
oscar piastri yeah, mom and dad, will you be at qatar?
max verstappen they went from being two strangers to mom and dad to three children in span of a few months.
charles leclerc he's only a few years older than me, how is he my father?
sabrina carpenter you dare argue with the twitter giriles?
charles leclerc no?
sabrina carpenter then congrats, you are now mine and oscar's older brother.
oscar piastri charles right now
max verstappen he should save that energy for xavi and ferrari
charles leclerc don't tempt me to crash into you max. i'll do it. then we'll have to wait another weekend to see you crowned world champion again
daphne jones THAT'S THIS WEEKEND? OH WE DEFINITELY HAVE TO BE A QATAR!
sabrina carpenter via air max?
max verstappen who told the pop girl about air max?
sabrina carpenter once again, tiktok is a wonderful place
max verstappen once again, i hate you so much
sabrina carpenter stay pressed sid. i'm their child and you are simply daniel's mistress.
oscar piastri what is it the twitter people say? gagged him.
taglist: @glow-ish @agustdpeach @msolbesg @spilled-coffee-cup @1nt3rnetgf @six-call
¡leclerc-s speaks!
can you tell i started rewatching dts now that the season is over? i actually do cry everytime i watch episode 8 of season 1. personally, i love suzuka, but i think the fia's choices with putting tractors on the track has given it a bad history. anyways, hope you enjoyed this, it's a little sad but i never write sad stuff so this is new.
¡disclaimer!
this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet. enjoy!
#leclerc-s#big reputations series#daniel ricciardo#daniel ricciardo x female oc#formula 1#formula 1 fic#fanfic#fanfiction#f1#f1 smau#f1 social media au#f1 instagram au#f1 fic
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Call It What You Want | Spencer Reid
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader (singer!reader)
Summary: You lost your reputation, but you gained something so much better.
Warning/s: angst, fluff later on, hostage situation, online bullying, hate comments, stalking, reader has a stalker, famous reader, mentions of guns and knives (light use too), marriage, pregnancy, about babies and birth, in this the song is referred to as Y/N's song (that's not true of course), pet names (pretty boy, gorgeous, love...), also skipped a few parts of the song (sorry)
Author's note: So reader basically entered her Reputation era, but with a happy ending. That's it.
Y/N - your name
Y/L/N - your last name
My castle crumbled overnight
I brought a knife to a gunfight
They took the crown, but it's alright
All the liars are calling me one
Nobody's heard from me for months
I'm doing better than I ever was
The cold breeze of the night in the middle of the giant city as you walked perhaps wasn't doing doing you any favors at all. The coat that you wore wasn't really doing its job. It was supposed to keep you warm during the nights out like this one, but it was anything but. You felt yourself crossing your arms in hopes to pull your coat tighter to yourself so you could gain some warmth, but sadly it wasn't working.
With a disappointed, quiet sigh you swang the bag you had in front of yourself hunting for your keys as you walked along the secured parking lot. You passed a whole lot of cars as you continued to trash through your bad, but not one of those cars was yours.
After what felt like an eternity, you finally reached your car, the sound of your keychain juggling as you tried to get a hold of the key properly.
The whole time you were walking over to your car you felt an overwhelming sensation of the feeling that something, or rather someone, was following your every step. Panic was drowning you as you tried to get into your car as fast as you possibly could.
However, once you finally managed to put the key in due to your shaking hands, you felt a hand covering your mouth. The last thing you heard was your own terrified scream before you drifted into unconsciousness.
°
The coldness of the uncomfortable chair send a million of shivers down your spine. Your head was pounding so much that it started to be unbearable. At that moment you tried to bring your palm onto the side of your head, but you couldn't move your hands. At that moment you noticed the tight rope with which you were tied up in a chair.
You felt a sense of panic wash over you as you pulled against the ropes, but it was no use. It wasn't working like you hoped it would.
Suddenly, though, you heard a sound that you were sure would haunt you forever if you ever got out of there. The laugh of the person that took you hostage.
"Don't worry, my love," The vile man smiled at you. "Now you can finally be mine forever."
It sickened you.
The way he approached you, the way he slowly reached out to you to place his hand on your cheek as he talked to you. You felt like you could throw up at the sight of it alone.
"How- how did you..." your voice trembled as you spoke, trying to hold your ground, but to no use. "Why did you do this?"
"I've been watching you for a while, gorgeous," He said, rubbing circles against your cheek. "You are simply gorgeous, I just had to have a pretty thing like you."
You were terrified because at that moment you realized that it was over. You were never getting out of this. Your stalker would make your life a living hell just because of the way you looked and the fact that you did what you loved since you were a child.
He slowly let go of your cheek as he stepped back, not once breaking the eye contact with you. You couldn't help but let one tear slide down your cheek. It was over for you.
And just as you began to drown in your own sorrows, the door of the basement in which he held you were broken down.
"FBI!" Someone yelled out, the flash of the lights that filled the room were too bright, you couldn't see the FBI agents that entered. "Don't move!"
The guns were held up, surrounding your stalker who was, thankfully, weaponless.
Your head was hurting you even worse than it did before because of the flashing lights, but you had never felt a bigger sense of relief washing over you than at the moment when they forcefully entered and you felt someone moving to you.
"Are you okay, miss?" You turned your head slowly, in fear that your head was going to ache even more. The last thing that you wanted was to faint now.
"Y-Yes," You barely whispered to the man who was untying you as fast as he possibly could. "Thank you."
"Reid!" You heard another man shout, his voice ringing with authority. "Get her our of here now."
Perhaps you were still frozen from the shock, but you didn't know exactly how you suddenly got outside. You were sat down as the paramedics checked over you. Your head was still spinning and everything was hurting you, but it could've been worse.
At that moment, Spencer stood aside watching over you silently. He couldn't help himself. He simply couldn't help but to admire you as the paramedics did their job.
"What's up with you, pretty boy?" Derek came over to him, his voice hinting that he was really for teasing. "You have a crush on our singer, huh?"
"W-What? No, of course not." Spencer felt himself flush and Derek stared to laugh at the genius.
"Really?" Morgan mockingly put his hand on his chest to express that he didn't believe anything that came out of Spencer's mouth. "Because, if I'm being honest, pretty boy, your staring kind of gave it away."
Spencer was growing more red as the seconds passed. He kept quiet up until Derek stopped laughing and looked at him.
"You should ask her out." He suggested.
"I don't know." Spencer whispered so quietly that Morgan almost didn't catch it.
Before Morgan could say anything else the voice of one of the paramedics announced that you were free to go, and Spencer felt himself suddenly walk over to you without even realizing it as Morgan continued to watch with amusement.
"Hey."
You turned around at the sound of Spencer's voice and Spencer felt like his breath was knocked out of his lungs. Your eyes were sparkling brighter than the stars that covered the cold night sky and he felt himself getting flushed again.
"Am... I- I was wondering i-if you would like me t-to take you home." Spencer stuttered a bit as you made eye contact with him, listening to him speaking."
You smiled at him, he was truly, utterly gorgeous. "That's really sweet, but I don't want to bother you."
"Please, it would be a pleasure to make sure you come home safe."
And so, after a while, you accepted his request and made a promise in front of the door of your apartment to keep in touch with the FBI agent who saved your life and will continue to save your life for as long as there is air in his lungs and the stars in his eyes.
'Cause my baby's fit like a daydream
Walkin' with his head down, I'm the one he's walkin' to
So call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to
My baby's fly like a jet stream
High above the whole scene, loves me like I'm brand new
So call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to
After all that happened to you with your stalker that was now put into prison, you decided to dissappear from the public eye for a while. You yearned for a break that was much needed. But with the break that you publicly announced and a promise to dissappear for a while you had to be more careful.
The trips to the simple places like grocery stores were yet another opportunity to dress up so no one could possibly recognize you. At that time, the number of the baseball caps, and a whole bunch of oversized hoodies, seemed to drastically increase and it continued to do so.
But there was a minor slip-up after 6 months since you disappeared.
It was a surprisingly quiet night. Spencer returned from the case earlier and you decided to take a walk around the town after visiting a local coffee shop.
You were so wrapped up in each other, soaking up every moment you had with each other. Sharing a whole lot of stolen kisses, looks, his hand nested itself on your shoulders, sharing laughter and smiles, eyes spanking. They were full of happiness and utter joy every time you were with him.
What neither of you expected was for Penelope practically tearing down the whole conference room, almost breaking down the door the next day just so she could get to Spencer.
Spencer was sitting at his chair, looking over the files along with everyone else when he found himself being startled as he watched Penelope waving the newest copy of today's newspaper as she practically screamed in excitement.
He was rather confused by her suddenly excitement even though it wasn't unusual for her. But once he saw her slamming the newspaper in the middle of the desk he felt himself getting pale.
Spencer and you made a cover of today's news. The headline, written in overly dramatic big letters with the fine print, read "AFTER 6 MONTH SHE MADE AN APPERCEIVE! FAMOUS SINGER Y/N Y/L/N SEEN WITH A MYSTERIOUS STRANGER!!"
Just below the headline there was a picture of him and you from the night before. His arm was placed over your shoulders, bringing you closer to warm you up and keep you safe. His face was somehow, somewhat, covered by his hair because of the wind that couldn't be contained that night. Your hand was holding his that was slang over your shoulders. Your smile was radiant, your eyes shining as you kept your gaze on him. He couldn't help but smile a little at the photo.
"Explain yourself now, Spencer Reid!" Penelope shrieked, her voice getting higher each second. "What the hell are you doing with freaking Y/N Y/L/N!!"
He started stuttering so much, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation, but his nerves got the best of him. Suddenly, he felt a hand slapping his back sending him forward a bit as Morgan laughed.
"Good for you, pretty boy." Morgan smiled at him, teasingly. "Good for you."
All my flowers grew back as thorns
Windows boarded up after the storm
He built a fire just to keep me warm
All the drama queens taking swings
All the jokers dressin' up as kings
They fade to nothin' when I look at him
Pretty soon a year had passed since the hostage situation which included you being in danger.
A year since you met Spencer, a year of nothing but love and happiness.
Spencer opened the door of his apartment and held it like that so you could get into the apartment before him.
You stepped into the apartment, shaking the snowflakes that stuck to your head on this, quite cold, night in late November. You stood still for a moment, admiring Spencer as he removed his purple scarf before quickly lighting up the fire in the fireplace so that the warmth could spread around your home.
However, you noticed the slight change in his demeanor as you sat yourselfs on the couch near the fireplace. You, however, decided to not say anything because you knew that he would say what he wanted to once he was ready. You didn't want to put more pressure on him, but the plain fact that he was nervous made you extremely so, too.
Finally, Spencer took a deep breath before he turned to you.
"I know that this might seem sudden," Spencer started as he shyly looked into your concerned eyes that watched him talk carefully. "But I feel like I know you for longer than a year. I feel like I've known you my whole life. You complete me in every possible way one person can complete another. You bring immense joy in my life every single day. You show me that life and even people can be good every single day and I believe you despite all of the horrible things I see every day."
You were deeply touched by his confessed, but you were slightly confused because you could quite figure out as to why he was saying all of this to you right now.
"I can't imagine not waking up to you every moment," Spencer confessed, looking longingly into your eyes and you found yourself surprised when the sudden realization that he didn't stutter once drained on you. "I can't imagine seeing you every day, listening to your voice and admiring everything that you do."
Suddenly, he stood up and slowly lowered himself on one knee in front of you. He held out a small box in his hand before he continued to speak. You felt like you couldn't breathe once you realized what was about to happen, what was already happening.
"I simply can not imagine my life without you in it," Spencer continued as tears gathered in your eyes. "Will you make me the happiest man on this planet and marry me?"
"Yes!" You spoke up after you had gotten over your frozen state of shock. "Yes, of course I'll marry you, Spence!" You said, voice full of love as he slipped a beautiful ring onto your finger.
As you sat there by the fire, you knew that you had found the person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. The snow continued to fall outside, but you knew that nothing could beat the warm feeling in the apartment and in your heart.
And I know I make the same mistakes every time
Bridges burn, I never learn, at least I did one thing right
I did one thing right
I'm laughin' with my lover, makin' forts under covers
Trust him like a brother, yeah, you know I did one thing right
Starry eyes sparkin' up my darkest night
Two years flashes by to fast for you to keep up it seemed like.
Spencer and you got married as fast as you possibly could. You love each other more than anything and you were ready so you figured why not do it immediately. The life had been a bliss. And just when it seemed like it couldn't be better you found out that you were pregnant.
Spencer was overjoyed. He always wanted to have children, he always wanted to be a father. And now he could do it with the person he most loved, admired and cared for. He truly felt like passing out the moment he found out. And he did, but would always deny it with a blush glued to his face every time Morgan brought it up to tease him.
The moment your water broke all hell broke loose. Luckily, Spencer was at home so the only thing you had to do was to grab your hospital bag, keys and head to the car. You were 100% prepared for this.
However, you always felt like the moment it happened and it was finally time to go to the hospital you would be the one who would go into a panicked frenzy. So it was safe to say that you were genuinely surprised that once Spencer and you managed to stumble into the car and were on your way, you were the one who had the role of comforting the one who was in panic. Spencer was gripping the wheel so tightly you were scared that he would break it. It would be rather amusing if you weren't in so much pain already.
But after hours of labor and excruciating following hours of birth once you felt limp against the mattress, still holding onto Spencer's hand which you gripped so hard, but he never once complained, bless his heart, everything truly was worth it once you heard the loud yet at the same time soft cries of your baby girl.
Now, as you laid in the bed in another hospital room you couldn't move your eyes away from the sweet sight of Spencer sleeping in the chair right next to your bed with your baby girl in his arms. It was truly the sweetest sight you had ever witnessed. Spencer's messy hair was spread everywhere as his arms tightened around your little bundle of joy, but not to tightly to hurt her. The moment he got her in his arms, he wouldn't let her go. You guessed that he was afraid thay something unexpected would happen even though you gave your best to reassure him.
After hours of sleeping once you woke up, you could fall back asleep for some reason. Not that you complained.
You heard the door open and you turned your head that was still pressed against the pillow on the bed at the direction of the door. It was JJ, trying to enter as quietly as she possibly could while carrying a few cups of coffee.
"How are you, mama?" She whispered softly as he took a seat on another chair on the other side of your bed.
"Still a bit sore, but fine." You gave her a small smile that she softly returned. "I'm just so glad that this happened." You confessed quietly as you looked at JJ.
"I made a lot of mistakes in my life," You said as she listened to your every word. "But having our daughter with him... I know that I did one thing right."
I want to wear his initial
On a chain 'round my neck, chain 'round my neck
Not because he owns me
But 'cause he really knows me
Which is more than they can say, I
I recall late November
Holdin' my breath, slowly I said
"You don't need to save me
But would you run away with me?"
Yes (would you run away?)
A few months later another headline was released in many newspapers and magazines. There were a bunch of articles all over internet, too.
The newest addition of the People's magazine was laying on Penelope's dest by her screens. Derek soon enough entered the room with a curious look.
"Hey, baby girl," He greeted as he pressed a kiss on Penelope's cheek, looking over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of the newest addition of the magazine. "What are you up to?"
"Why hello handsome," she greeted with a smile before she brought the attention back to the magazine. "Look who made the cover."
And sure enough, on the front cover of the magazine, at the very top, there was a headline written with big, capital letters saying: Y/N Y/L/N MARRIED!? THE MUSIC STAR WAS SEEN WITH HER HUSBAND AND HER BABY OUT ON THE WALK FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER!!"
Below the dramatic headline there was a picture of Spencer and you holding hands, dressed in warm clothes as you walked around the city on a cold, snowy November night. In front of you there was a stroller in which your daughter, Annie, was in. Your hand was quite visible along with the ring that was clearly a weeding ring. Spencer had his arm around your shoulder, showcasing his ring as well.
On the bottom of the cover there were some other news that were in slightly smaller font. You also released the new song after a long while. The song was called "Call It What You Want" and it said to turn the page 13 for the full lyrics and Derek did just that.
Penelope couldn't help but to let out a screech after she practically showed the magazine in his face. And just as Derek finished reading the lyrics to the song he couldn't help but to smile.
"Good for you, pretty boy," Derek pointed out, happily. "Good for you."
"Give me the magazine back," Penelope excitedly ordered him. "I'm gonna frame this now."
My baby's fit like a daydream
Walkin' with his head down, I'm the one he's walkin' to
(Call it what you want, call it what you want, call it)
So call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to
My baby's fly like a jet stream
High above the whole scene, loves me like I'm brand new
(Call it what you want, call it what you want, call it)
So call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to
Call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want
To
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JOIN THE TAGLIST HERE!!
#Spotify#imagine#fic#criminal minds#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x self insert#criminal minds fic#matthew gray gubler#matthew gray gubler x reader#call it what you want#reputation#taylor swift#taylor swift inspired#reputation taylor swift#song fic#taylor swift x reader#taylor stans#taylor swift x y/n#x reader#fluff#jennifer jareau#jj#aaron hotchner#penelope garcia#derek morgan#david rossi#emily prentiss
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OK, but just imagine LE reader wearing something sexy (like a Halloween costume/party or for date night anyone can be of your choosing!) we all know that’ll put Gojo into a frenzy but I just like to see how that would play out😂😂
he’s so starstruck he’ll start grinning like an idiot without reason, dirty eyes ogling your revealing dress and giving you bedroom stares 💁🏻♀️ he’s so warning you that he’ll devour you “until there’s no crumbs left” and you’re left gawking like 😦
but at the same time, he’ll flip each time a man with eyes shoots his gaze on you because hey, you’re his wife! any man other than him is far lesser than him in every single aspect so he won’t be shy to remind them all—
“ho ho ho~ who do we have here? do you know i’m the husband?”
“hey! that’s a married woman you’re talking to!”
“she’s my wife, and soon she’ll be the mother of my child—”
you glared at him. “i’m not pregnant—”
“yet, sweetheart. yet.”
#he’s living up to his reputation as public menace😩#is this going to be a fic? why yes you don't need to ask :))#in fact this is going to be a part of my wife all mine valentine special :))#—chu’s mailbox 📬#—headcanons☁️#𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠
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Bad Reputation
s.f.k. x reader
chapter one
Series Summary: As a local jazz pianist in Nashville, you never fear being in the spotlight. Living in the same city, you’ve become very familiar with Sam Kiszka, a young musician who’s managed to gain a bad reputation in the city and throughout the country within his band’s fanbase. You’ve always just ignored Sam’s promiscuous and impulsive ways, but when you’re approached by the band to help repair his image, you’re given an offer you can’t refuse.
Word Count: 6k
Chapter Warnings: swearing, drinking, mentions of sex, mentions of smoking (tobacco & marijuana), flirting, arguing, sexual tension… you get it ;) (no smut… yet)
A/N: Hi guys! I’m so excited to share this series with you all. The idea came to me and I think it really ended up so good, I can’t wait for you to read it. Let me know in the comments or in my messages if you want to be added to the taglist for this series! See you soon :)
Listen to the playlist here :)
•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•
The club was dark and crowded as you entered through the front door and made your way backstage to begin setting up. Your shoulders brushed past other people in the crowd, making it difficult for you to get to the back. On your way there, you paused for a moment, deciding to stop at the bar first for a much-needed drink.
“Hey, Sebastian!” you said, leaning over the bar as you greeted the bartender. You’ve been playing here for so many years, these guys were some of the closest friends you’ll ever have.
“Y/N, hey! Need a pick-me-up?” he said, turning his attention to you fully for a moment as the bar was bustling with other customers. Better make this quick.
“Can I just get a double rum and coke? Only a little bit of ice in it,” you asked, smiling politely as he nodded and began making your drink.
You take a second to look around the club as you wait, feeling a bit nervous as you take in how many people are actually there. You’ve played big crowds before, sure, but tonight felt extra intimidating for some reason.
You had sensed for a few months now that your big break might be coming soon, at least that’s what you’d hoped. You’ve grown to be quite popular in the greater Nashville area, but your reach hasn’t gone much further than that. You hope to branch off and move to New York one day, to play there professionally full-time.
For now, though, you make your living by playing gigs weekly, posting your music online, and taking a few brand deals here and there. It’s working well, and you make enough money to get by, but you’re not entirely fulfilled.
“Double rum and coke for the lovely lady,” Sebastian said, sliding your drink across the bar toward you with a smile. You return his smile and take it in your hand, tipping it toward him as a thank you.
“Thanks, Seb. I’ll be back later, you know I’m gonna need it,” you muttered, taking a long swig of your drink before squeezing your way through the rest of the crowd and finally making it to the backstage door.
Pushing the door open, you turned the corner toward your usual dressing room and started to set yourself up. You take your coat off, place it on the small couch with your tote bag, and then turn to the mirror to touch up your makeup before you take the stage in 15 minutes. You hear the door crack open, so you turn your head to look and see who it is.
“There you are, Lucy!” you exclaimed, moving to the door to greet her with a hug. “Where the hell have you been? I didn��t see you at the bar before.”
“Sorry, babe, Seb had me refilling the kegs downstairs for him… lazy bastard,” she scoffed, moving past you to plop down on the couch. “That’s a man’s job! That shit is so heavy!” You chuckle at her, finishing off your drink and then turning back to the mirror to finish applying your lipstick.
“He’s building up your strength, Luce! What happened to equal rights?” you laughed, making eye contact with her in the mirror as she rolled her eyes at you.
“Whatever, Y/N. I don’t see you lifting any heavy things,” she mutters, crossing her arms and throwing her head back.
Lucy was probably your best friend in the whole city. You met her in high school, being in the same jazz band class together, and immediately clicked. She works at Seb’s jazz club part-time as a bartender and server, which is how you started playing there. You play plenty of gigs at other places too, but this place became your regular haunt, thanks to Lucy’s help. She asked Sebastian to give you a chance to audition 4 years ago, and you’ve been playing there ever since.
The two of you live together in a little apartment in Midtown, only a couple blocks away from the club. After graduating high school, Lucy decided to go to Belmont for journalism while you ended up just starting to work on your music full-time. You made ends meet and helped pay rent while Lucy went to school, and she’s worked to make it up to you ever since.
She’s in her last semester of graduate school now at Vanderbilt, getting a business degree with hopes of founding a newspaper of her own one day. At 24, she seems like she’s finally getting her life together, but for you, it feels like you’re only just getting started. You try not to compare yourself to her or anyone else, which was something your mother always nagged you about. You knew she was right, but you can’t help it.
Despite all of that, you’re sure that you’ll break into the industry soon. Seb had planned to hook you up with his buddy who works in one of the recording studios downtown to get you in and record your own stuff. He’s just waiting on your word to tell him that the album is ready, but you haven’t been able to finish it for the life of you. You’re not sure if it’s fear or perfectionism, but it just doesn’t feel finished to you yet. For now, you’re filling your time with gig after gig, hoping to find inspiration.
“Stop sulking in here and get back to work, I have to be out there in 5,” you say, turning around to give her a stern look. She scoffs at you and then stands up, walking out the door.
“Break a leg!” she shouts as she rounds the corner, leaving you alone once more.
You have to admit that you’re feeling nervous. You compiled a few originals to test out tonight with the crowd, hoping to get some excited reactions to some stuff that you planned to include in your record. You had a few classics in the setlist too, including your favorite arrangements of Misty and Lullaby of Birdland, to make sure that the crowd doesn’t get too lost. But you hope that you’re new stuff will keep them captivated.
You take a deep breath, brushing your hands down your dress a few times to straighten it out and taking one last look in the mirror before exiting the dressing room and heading toward the stage. You hear Seb announce your name as you turn the corner and stride onto the stage, flashing a quick smile at the crowd before sitting down at the piano.
The crowd hushed as your fingers plinked out the first few notes, and then you started your first piece. Your hands glided across the keys with ease as you closed your eyes, getting lost in the music. Your first original piece went off without a hitch, the crowd cheering loudly at your extensive solo. They were enraptured by the covers you chose and your confidence was truly shining brightly off of you.
The set ended as quickly as it began and the club erupts in applause as you played the last note and stood up to take a bow. You look out into the crowd and see your friends back at the bar, flashing them a wide smile. Your eyes pan across the rest of the room, seeing all of the people cheering for you. This was what you were made for, you were sure of it. This is what you’re meant to do.
As your eyes stop at the back corner of the room, your expression quickly drops when you see the group at the large booth. It was a group of men from a band that you were very familiar with, bumping elbows at all the music venues in Nashville. It wasn’t the band specifically that you had a problem with, but just one specific man who always gave you trouble. Sam Kiszka.
“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath, flashing one more smile at the crowd before rushing backstage to your dressing room. You were so not in the mood for his antics tonight, not after putting on such a good show. The rest of his brothers, you could deal with, but not him. You refuse to let him tear down the confidence in yourself that you only just built up.
You grabbed your things in your dressing room and then hurried back out to the bar, needing to get a refill on your drink before even attempting to socialize with anybody.
“Seb– another, please. Pour it heavy,” you lament, resting your elbows on the bar and putting your head in your hands. You hear him chuckle as he starts your drink and you let out a low groan.
“I take it you saw them, then?” Lucy said, leaning against the bar next to you. You nodded as your head still sat in your hands, not bothering to look up at her. “Y/N, they’re really not that bad, I don’t understand what your problem is.” Your head shot up and you glared at her frustratedly.
“Not that bad? Sam takes every opportunity he can to belittle my music and talent every time I see him,” you scoffed, taking your drink from Seb and taking a long sip. “And when he’s not berating me, he’s trying to get in my pants.” Lucy rolls her eyes, stepping behind the bar to grab some drinks and put them on her tray.
“As if I’d ever stoop that low. That man’s been in bed with every single woman in Nashville. Probably even taken women, too!” you ranted, crossing your arms and taking another sip.
“Just ignore him, babe. I know the rest of them would like to see you,” Lucy said, lifting the tray to rest on her shoulder. “These are their drinks. Just come with me.”
She walks away with the tray toward the other side of the club to find their table. You linger for a moment and then let out an annoyed groan, throwing back another sip before reluctantly following behind her.
You followed Lucy with your head down, trying not to look too eager or willing to go with her. As you approached the table, Josh was the first one to catch a glimpse of you, a toothy smile growing across his face.
“There she is, the woman of the hour,” Josh remarks, opening his arms wide to pull you in for a hug. You accept, squeezing him tightly before pulling away. You smiled shyly as the others greeted you as well, except Sam, of course. He was distracted, seemingly complimenting the top Lucy had on. Barf.
She’d already been there, done that, which isn’t exactly surprising. Your best friend always had an affinity for one-night stands, never really wanting to settle down or get too serious. You never cared at all, until she told you one morning that she went home with Sam after a show one night. She promised that she didn’t plan to do it again, claiming she used him just as much as he used her, and you left it at that.
She kept her word, never going home with him again, but that didn’t stop him from flirting with her every time he came in here. You rolled your eyes as you watched him glance down at her cleavage subtly, but not subtle enough for you not to notice. He finally notices you standing there, turning toward you with a smirk. Here we go.
“Y/N… that was quite the set,” Sam said, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall next to their booth. Josh and Jake excuse themselves to go outside for a smoke, and Danny takes a seat back in the booth, scrolling on his phone. Alone, great.
“Thanks, I think,” you say sarcastically, taking a sip of your drink as you look up at him suspiciously. You didn’t trust that look on his face one bit, and you were determined to find out what he was up to.
“Oh, that wasn’t a compliment,” he said smugly. “If you’re gonna arrange music, at least write a song where the chord progressions actually make sense together.” He raises his beer bottle to his lips and tips his head back to take a sip. You scoff at him, trying to take a deep breath before you blow this entire thing out of proportion.
“Samuel, you wouldn’t know a good arrangement even if it hit you in your smug face,” you bit out, still doing your best to hold yourself back. You swing back the rest of your drink, letting the cold ice hit your lips before slamming it down on the table next to you. “It was a B flat and E flat blues. Who crowned you the king of jazz composition?”
His smirk grew wider across his face as his back left the wall and he began to tower over you. You sucked in a deep breath, wondering if you should've just kept your mouth shut, but frankly you didn’t care. His long hair frames his face as he looks down on you, his eyes dark and cold.
“I did,” he answered, his face growing uncomfortably close to yours. “You’re sexy when you’re angry.” His tongue skims his bottom lip as his eyes bore into yours. No. No. He is not gonna win this round.
“Is that why you enjoy bothering me so much?” you asked, keeping your eyes locked on his, insistent on not backing down. His lips turn upward into a smug smile as he leans back away from you, placing his back on the wall once more.
“Maybe. Or maybe I just think it’s fun,” he answers, smirking down at you.
“You’re such a fucking freak,” you scoff, crossing your arms. You notice a change in his eyes at your words, and you start to wonder if you took it too far.
“You’ve got no idea, sweetheart,” Sam says, stepping forward again to stand over you.
“Gross,” you mutter under your breath, looking up at him, trying to keep a straight face.
“Now, I don’t think you mean that,” Sam whispered, leaning down further to speak into your ear. “I think you like it, actually.”
“You wish,” you state, still maintaining eye contact. His mouth twitches and turns up into a smirk as one of his arms snakes around your waist.
“All that blushing you’re doing says otherwise, doll. Even in this dark club, you can’t hide it,” he whispers against the shell of your ear. Fuck.
“That’s what I thought,” he smirked. You watch silently as Sam puts his beer bottle down on the table and then reaches into the front pocket of his shirt, pulling out a lighter and a blunt. “C’mon Daniel, let’s go outside.”
Sam shoots you a wink before nodding his head in Danny’s direction and the two of them walk toward the front entrance. They pass the twins on their way out, who both turn to look at you with puzzled expressions as they sit down at the booth. You sit down next to Josh as you try to adjust the annoyed look that is so clearly plastered across your face.
“What the hell was that all about?” Jake asked, raising his eyebrow at you and taking a sip from his glass of whiskey sitting on the table. You crossed your arms and rolled your eyes, not even having an answer to give.
“The usual, of course. Can’t seem to leave me alone,” you muttered. The two of them let out a breathy laugh as Josh reaches over to put his arm around you.
“Don’t worry your pretty little head about him, darling,” he offers, smoothing his fingers along your shoulder. “It’s all just show.”
“For it just being show, it sure does feel pretty insulting,” you say, fiddling with your fingers atop the table.
“You’ll adjust eventually,” Jake says. “We like havin’ you around, so don’t run off just yet.” A smile grows across your face at Jake’s subtle attempt at an olive branch.
“I’ll tough it out, I promise,” you answer. You suppose you can adjust to Sam’s antics to spend time with them. You could use all the friends in the industry as you could get.
“How long have you been playing piano?” Josh asks, taking a sip of his tequila soda.
“Oh, I started lessons when I was 6,” you answered with a smile.
“That’s sick, I started pretty young too,” Jake replies, resting his arms on the table. Bonding with successful musicians has been your dream and the fact that you’re getting along so well made you really happy.
“Yeah, so I’ve heard! Believe it or not, I am actually a bit of a fan of your band. Casually, of course,” you smile, trying to be chill about it. It wasn’t entirely a lie, you are just a casual fan, but you’ve definitely watched an interview or two as well, leading to you knowing more about them than you intended to.
“Oh, yeah? Which one of us is your favorite, huh?” Josh asks smugly, raising an eyebrow at you hopefully. God, the amount of testosterone in this room could be cut with a knife.
“Hmmm… Danny,” you jest, elbowing Josh softly. The three of you break out into laughter before you check your phone to see the time. 12:32 am. Yikes, it’s late.
“Well, I gotta head out, unfortunately,” you say, standing up from the booth. Before you had the chance to walk off, Josh stopped you.
“Hey, uh, we’re gonna be in the studio on Monday for a few hours to work on some new music… would you wanna stop by?” Josh asked, looking up at you hopefully. “It could be a cool way for you to get exposed to how the recording process works.”
“Oh, wow, that would be incredible!” you smiled. “That’s such a kind offer, thank you so much! I’ll definitely be there.”
“Perfect! I’ll text you the details,” he says with a smile, and you wave goodbye to them both and walk over to the bar to find Lucy.
“Ready to head out?” you ask, leaning over the bar toward her.
“Sure, let’s go!” she answers, turning around to grab her jacket and bag.
“God, I have so much to fill you in on…” you say as you walk out the door toward your apartment. You told her all about your brief run-in with Sam, and then Josh’s invitation to the studio as you walk down the street. She quite literally squeals when she hears the news.
“OH MY GOD, Y/N this could be it! This could be your big break!” she exclaimed as you turned the corner to the path to your building. “If you get in with their producers, this could really get you started! You have to make a good impression.”
“Don’t you think I know that? I’m freaking out! I really can’t screw this up,” you said as you turn the key in the door.
“You could never screw it up, babe. They’re gonna love you, I promise,” Lucy reassured you, hugging you tightly before branching off to her own bedroom.
All you had to do was get through the weekend, and then the day of your dreams will be all yours. Fuck, you don’t have anything prepared! As you shut the door to your bedroom, you rushed to sit down at your keyboard, turning it on. You pulled out your phone and opened the voice memos app, pressing start and then setting it down. You have to get a good demo down if you want to impress the producers at the studio and book a session there.
You spent all of Saturday and Sunday recording a few of your originals on your phone, taking dozens of takes to make sure each of them was perfect. This is it, it’s your moment.
•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•
Your alarm goes off at 8 am, giving you two hours until you’re meant to meet Greta Van Fleet at the studio. Josh texted you yesterday with the time and address, emphasizing that you shouldn’t overthink it. He knew that you’d be freaking out, and he was right.
You’re hoping that a cool shower will wake you up and help you shake the nerves off. You get up out of bed, rub your eyes, and then grab your towel and walk out of your bedroom to the bathroom.
As the cold water hits your back, you start to think over the day that you have ahead of you. If everything goes the way you planned, then you might leave today with a record deal, or plans to meet up to make a deal. You appreciated Josh’s help so greatly, you really weren’t expecting it. He’s always been so kind to you, more so than the rest, but you figured that it was just the way he was. Now, it feels like he really has your back.
All you had to do was make it through today without any incidents with Sam. You hope that the other guys have already briefed him and told him to be on his best behavior, but you doubt that he’ll abide by that. You can hold your own, though, and you doubt that he’d pull something too obscene while working.
After drying off and getting ready to go, you find that you still have about 20 minutes until you need to leave. To pass the time, you sat down in your bed and opened up Instagram to scroll mindlessly for a little while until you had to drive downtown.
As you scroll down, your eye is caught by a post by The Nashville Fiddle, which is a local magazine. The Fiddle posts mostly about drama and celebrities, and you usually ignore everything they post, since you try not to give gossip the time of day. But this time, your eyes were stuck on their post, with a video of Sam Kiszka, belligerent and wasted outside of a club downtown Saturday night.
In the video, you can see Sam flirting with a girl outside of the club when a big, burly man comes up to him angrily. Clearly, this girl was taken, and her boyfriend was not happy. You can see Sam hollering back at him, getting in his face as he slurs his words before the man takes a large swing at him. Then, you see Danny show up behind him and pull him back, dragging him down the street, far away from the scene.
How could he be so stupid? Flirting with girls with boyfriends is bad enough, but it’s even worse to get into an argument and get caught on camera. He should know that he’s a public figure and that people can spread this kind of stuff around. What was he thinking?
You check the time and see that it’s about time to go, so you grab your tote, pick up your keys, and then head out the door. As you drive downtown, you take a few deep breaths. It’s not a big deal, you tell yourself. Everything will be fine.
Soon enough, you pull into a parking spot in front of the studio and put your car in park. 9:59 am. Just on time. You get out of the car, throw your keys into your bag, and then head toward the front door. After opening the door, you walked in and told the person at the front desk that you were meeting the band, and they directed you to the right studio.
As you enter the studio, you walk in to only find Danny sitting there. He looks up from his drum set and waves, standing up to greet you.
“Hey, Danny… where are the others?” you asked, hugging him and then taking a seat on a chair nearby. Danny lets out a long laugh, trying to compose himself before answering.
“Oh, they are never here on time. This is considered early,” he answers, smiling widely as he goes to sit back down at his set. “I wouldn’t expect any of them for at least another thirty minutes, if not longer.” You laugh along with him, tucking your hair behind your ear.
“Ah, Josh should have told me! Now I feel embarrassed for being so early,” you say, looking down at your phone for the time. 10:11 am.
“Nah, he just can’t admit that he’s always chronically late. He’s in denial,” Danny jokes. “Do you want anything while we wait? There’s coffee and tea over there.”
“Yeah, that’d be nice actually,” you answered, standing up to walk over to the coffee cart. “I’ll be honest, I’m not much of a morning person.” Daniel laughs, standing up to walk over with you.
“I’m not sure I’ve ever met a jazz player that was,” he says with a smile. “I think it’s just part of your DNA.” You laugh, nodding your head in agreement.
“You might be right. It’s not our fault, we play at night!” you say, pouring yourself a cup of coffee.
“Sam’s the same way, y’know. Stays up ‘til ungodly hours of the night, and then doesn’t roll out of bed until after noon,” he notes, laughing to himself. You laugh awkwardly as you add cream to your cup, cringing at the possibility of having anything in common with Sam Kiszka.
Almost as if he read your mind, Sam walked through the door, sunglasses blocking the dark bags under his eyes. He’s clearly hungover, rubbing his temples as he waltzes over to the cart and grabs the pot of coffee, pouring it into his own cup.
“Rough weekend, Samuel?” you asked teasingly, having already read about his escapades from this weekend. You can see his eyes roll behind the tint of the sunglasses as he takes a sip of his black coffee.
“Don’t start with me today, sweetheart,” he mumbled, pouring more coffee into his cup to make up for what he already drank, and then walking over to the corner to sit down on the sofa. He puts his feet up on the cushions as he takes a sip and then lays his head back against the armrest.
“See what I mean?” Danny asks, laughing as he walks over to his set and starts playing on his own, seemingly practicing. The idea sends a shiver down your spine. Could you and Sam be more similar than you thought? No, no way, you thought to yourself.
Not long after, Josh and Jake walk through the door and things can finally start moving. Josh walks over to make a cup of tea and then takes a seat on a stool, taking a slow sip. You walk over to him, hoping that his usual cheery disposition would calm your nerves.
“Good morning, lovely,” Josh smiled, patting your shoulder softly. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m good, I’m good,” you answered nonchalantly with a shy smile.
“Good. We’re still waiting for our manager, Jodie, to arrive, so just hang tight,” he says, taking another sip of his tea.
“Hey, you know what? How about you play us something?” he asks excitedly, his eyes lighting up. “Could be a good way to wake us up, huh?”
Your eyes shoot open, looking around the room at the rest of the guys. Danny is nodding excitedly and Jake walks over to his guitar stand, picking up his Gibson SG and slinging it over his head. Sam isn’t paying attention, his sunglasses have come off and his eyes are shut as he reclines on the couch.
“Well, okay… I guess it couldn’t hurt,” you answered, walking over to Sam’s keyboard next to the drumset. You turn it on and adjust the settings, giving it a funkier sound before taking a deep breath and starting to play.
You decide to play Higher Ground, by Stevie Wonder, falling into the groove of the intro of the song as your fingers move across the keys. Danny’s face lights up as he listens closely to what you’re playing, then starts playing along. Jake follows suit, adding his guitar into the mix, and playing along with you. Of course, everyone knows Stevie Wonder, but being able to play with a band was just so cool to you.
People keep on learnin’
Soldiers keep on warnin’
World keep on turnin’
‘Cause it won’t be too long
Josh sings along, his voice fitting perfectly in the range of the song. The four of you are really grooving now, and it is so fun for you. It’s been years since you’ve played with others, and you loved it.
You watch as Sam lifts his head from the couch, opening his tired eyes to look over at you all. For a moment there, you almost think that he might be smiling, but you shake it off. You’re surprised to see him rise from the couch and walk over, grabbing his Rickenbacker off the stand and putting the strap over his head. Oh, he’s gonna play along…
Sam starts plucking his bass, along with the rest of the song. You knew that they’d all played in jazz bands before, and this song was a staple, but it surprised you how easy it was to join together and play. It was almost like you belonged there.
As you start a short piano solo, their manager walks through the door and sits down on the couch. She seems to nod at you to keep going, so you finish your solo and then end the song. You’re suddenly caught by surprise as Josh starts applauding, smiling widely as he walks over to you. He stands behind you, putting his hands firmly on your shoulders, squeezing them.
“You’re an incredible talent, Y/N, truly,” Josh remarked, smiling from ear to ear as he left your side and went to sit back down. You smile shyly and get up from the bench behind the piano to go sit down on the couch with Jodie. The rest of the guys start talking cacophonously as you start your conversation privately with her.
“It’s true, you’re really good,” she says honestly, reaching out to shake yours. “I’m Jodie, it’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Oh, you have? Thank you so much, it’s great to meet you. I assume it was Josh who told you about me, he’s the one who invited me today,” you answer, smiling shyly at the compliment.
“I first heard about you from Sam actually… he had a lot to say about your talent on the keys,” she says, catching you completely by surprise. Sam? Is she being serious right now?
“Did he now?... Interesting,” you replied, your tone feigning confidence. “Well, I’m honored to be here today. I’ve been meaning to finally get into a studio here in Nashville.”
“Yes, I heard from Josh that you plan on recording an album of original songs,” Jodie remarks. “I’m happy to have you here! Hopefully, we can get you to work a bit! Not to mention, it’s quite nice to have a bit more of a gender balance.” You laugh together for a moment before she gets up to greet the guys, going over the agenda for the session.
They go through a few new songs, trying to get it all down perfectly. You just sit and watch, absolutely mesmerized by watching the professionals work. You even escaped to the booth for a while to see the mechanics of the equipment, talking to some of the sound techs that work there. It was a really rewarding learning experience for you.
“Okay, that’s a wrap, guys! Good work today, we’ll be back here at the same time on Friday,” Jodie says. “Sam, can you hang back for a sec?” She walks back over to sit next to you on the couch, nodding her head to motion for Sam to join you. Once she’s certain that everyone else has left the studio, she starts talking.
“So, I’ve had an idea. Just hear me out,” she started, somewhat apprehensively. “Y/N, I was thinking about how highly the guys speak about you, and how much untapped talent you have.” Okay… this is getting weird.
“And Sam, I’ve been thinking about ways to improve your public image and get you out of your rut,” she finished, trailing off as she saw Sam’s annoyed expression.
“Okay, first of all, I am not in a rut,” he said, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms as he leaned back on the couch.
“That’s not the point,” she snapped back. “My point is that I think I might have thought of a way to solve all of our problems.” You raise your eyebrow at her, still not really understanding what she’s getting at.
“What could possibly solve both of our problems?” you ask suspiciously.
“Like I said, just hear me out…” she says, but Sam interrupts her.
“Jodie, just spit it out already,” he groaned, growing frustrated.
“I think you guys should pretend to date!” she finally spat out, looking nervously at your reactions. Your jaw dropped as she finished her sentence, unsure that you even heard her right. Sam, however, already shot up out of his seat and stood angrily above you both.
“No, fuck no, absolutely not. This is ridiculous,” he starts ranting, but she cuts him off.
“Just listen to me, Sam. You’d improve your reputation by having a charismatic and talented girlfriend, the fans would love her! And Y/N, you’d gain followers and fans for your music career, and our label can get you started in our studio. Boom, both problems are fixed.”
“No! How could I even pretend to be interested in him? It’s impossible,” you complained.
“Woah, okay, try not to sound too disgusted,” Sam said, crossing his arms with a scoff.
“Don’t act like you didn’t react the exact same way, you asshole,” you scoff, staring daggers into him.
“Whatever, it’s not the same thing,” he spits back.
“Whatever, this isn’t productive,” you admit, crossing your arms in your seat.
“Exactly. It won’t even be that bad. Besides, you’re both benefiting here! It’s perfect,” Jodie says proudly.
“Well, I don’t know about perfect, but I guess it does kind of make sense…” you muttered, looking up at Sam nervously. He raised an eyebrow at you, walking toward you.
“You want to be my fake girlfriend, Y/N?” he teased. You roll your eyes and stand up to be more level with him, hating him towering over you.
“Shut up, Sam,” you replied, a hint of pink tinting your cheeks as your eyes locked on his.
“So? You guys are in?” Jodie asked hopefully. You and Sam exchange a look, then look back at her and nod.
“Yeah. Yeah, we’re in,” Sam answered, looking over at you with a smirk before walking toward the door. “Now, are we done here? I’ve got places to be.” You roll your eyes and reach down to grab your bag.
“We’re done here, go,” you mutter, slinging your bag over your arm. Sam walks out the door as quickly as he had came in, and you follow soon after him.
As you drive back home from the studio, you think about all of the day’s events. You almost can’t even believe that you agreed to be Sam’s girlfriend, fake or not. But you have to admit that it’s going to be great for your career, this is exactly the big break you need. You feel confident that her choice to ask you was based on your talent, so the unconventional means of gaining popularity didn’t bother you.
It kind of excited you to be included with such a famous rock band like theirs– going on tour, going to the studio, seeing the magic happen. Having to spend time with Sam was just the price you had to pay to jumpstart your music career and get into the music industry. You’re not sure what type of a commitment this arrangement is going to entail for you, but you’re honestly kind of looking forward to it. You have to admit that “Rockstar’s Girlfriend” kind of has a ring to it.
•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈• Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a comment or send me a message if you want to be added to the taglist for this story, or if you want to be tagged in all of my stories! See you soon :)
Taglist:
@highladyofasgard @gvfpal @childinthegardenn @myleftsock @peaceloveunitygvf @gretasfallingsky @gretavanfan @itsafullmoon @jordie-gvf
#greta van fleet#greta van fleet fic#greta van fleet fan fiction#greta van fic#sam kiszka#sammy gvf#sam kiszka fic#sam kiszka x reader#enemies to lovers#sam kiszka gvf#greta van smut#greta van angst#gvf#enemies to friends to lovers#bad reputation#greta van fleet smut#greta van fleet fanfiction#gretavanfleet#sam kiszka smut
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I'm debating a chapter in Minor Interference of Draxum introducing Donnie to the wider yokai culture (like showing him a college or something) and. yeah
#rottmnt#rottmnt au#minor interference au#rottmnt donnie#rottmnt baron draxum#rottmnt donatello hamato#rise of the tmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt fanart#rottmnt fanfiction#my art#i got donnie's idea from a tumblr post but i don't remember which one#the real question is whether Donnie is doing this on purpose or not#the other real question is how do people react to this#because yeah draxum is like super strong/smart/powerful etc#but he's also the guy who blew his house up twice in just under thirteen years#so maybe the idea of him training four absolute weirdos would be met with the reaction of “its not the weirdest thing he's done”#i know fics usually give him the reputation of imposing/scary/overbearing/whatever#but hear me out: local weirdo draxum#it would be so entertaining (plus it brings in more of his goofier s2 characterization and shows what he's like when he isn't fighting)#i'm still thinking on it though
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reputation // are you ready for it?
prologue summary: The one where you, a somewhat well-known singer, figure out exactly how to leave your boyfriend who so happens to work as an assistant coach at West Ham.
Eventual Jamie Tartt x Reader
i was inspired to make a series by @buckychristwrites and @illiterateaffairs, who made the beautiful series' 'About You' and 'Distractions' respectively, so let's give this a go
word count: 0.7k
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"Folklore and Evermore are fantastic for someone like (L/N), but is it enough to top the charts?"
"While (L/N)’s storytelling and emotion come through, does she have the audience for such a piece?”
“Previous attempts at topping the charts proved difficult, country or pop, what can (L/N) do next to be number one?”
“Fans approve of the narrative, but do the numbers?”
“It’s definitely a reach releasing two albums within a year of each other. I mean how desperate can you be?
“After experimenting with an album sampling multiple genres at eighteen, is this what (L/N) is finally good at?”
~
It’s exhausting. Everything. Trying to prove yourself while also trying not to seem full of yourself. How can someone just rise to the top of the charts? How can you be good enough? Every day there were articles calling you names and how much of a failure you are and could be. The bad always outweighed the good things people had to say. How can you make someone see who you are and what you are trying to do? It’s impossible to conform to every single version of yourself that people want you to be. It doesn’t help when your boyfriend has already achieved his dream. Helping coach his favorite team. A bittersweet thing to see. His compliments that can seem backhanded at teams. You’ll get there sometime babe. Don’t worry, you’re number one to me. Humiliating coming from someone so fake and narcissistic. Oh yes, the boyfriend you have put your life on pause for, albeit being together for two years, has been cheating on you for the past 3 months. Utterly humiliating.
It only gets worse considering he took over the job of managing you and where you play as an artist. It gave him some sort of promotion of rank amongst the other coaches. Nobody really recognized you at the football events he “booked” for you. Why would these older men listen to songs about a fictional love triangle? The only ones who recognized you were the bored teenage daughters dragged along to such events.
And asking for help is out of the question. Your best friend was only so far from you, playing for A.F.C Richmond. Phone calls and texts could be made any second of the day and you would be swooped away, but you chose not to. Colin has a busy life as you do, so it wouldn’t be right to call him about every single problem you were having, right? You were both doing what you’ve wanted to do since you were kids (one enjoying it more than the other), so why should you disrupt his life with yours?
But when you wake up the next morning with the opportunity of a lifetime, it seems like life has taken a turn for the better.
“Babe! Babe!”
You turn towards the doorway of your writing room resting your hands in your lap from their place on the piano. Derek leans against the doorway, trying to catch his breath.
“They want you to play! At the stadium!”
What.
“What are you on about?”
“Rupert wanted to one-up that ex-wife of his and Jasmine gave the idea of getting someone popular amongst fans to perform at halftime in a game against Richmond! Fantastic isn’t it! You’ve got to thank Jasmine for this, god that woman is amazing.”
Derek disappears down the hallway still shouting at the news. You sit wide-eyed and frozen. Not only at the news, performing in front of hundreds of fans at what possibly is one of the biggest games is a huge opportunity and you should be happy about it. Well, you are, but the name that left your boyfriend’s mouth gave it a sour taste. Jasmine. The woman he kisses and loves behind your back. And the one who gave you a chance at the spotlight in two months' time. Popular amongst fans? Was she being serious or being sarcastic? Nonetheless, what the hell.
An amazing woman, you think.
You stand and make your way to the nook in the window. You stare down at the people who walk past before grabbing at the journal and sitting yourself down. Opening the journal to the page marked by a pen holding its place, you start writing down your next idea.
reputation
You drag the pen quickly on the page leaving a straight line underneath the word, a smirk making its way to your face.
#jamie tartt#jamie tartt imagine#jamie tartt x reader#jamie tartt oneshot#ted lasso#ted lasso fic#ted lasso imagine#afc richmond#taylor swift#reputation#taylor swift reputation
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logan sargeant x driver!reader
🪩 synopsis: what if Logan's contract was not renewed in December of 2023? Williams makes the decision to sign Formula 2 Champion Theo Pourchaire instead. While on the other side of motor sports, IndyCar driver Y/n L/n is also cast aside like her childhood friend. With the 2024 season approaching, and no seats in sight, how will these two finally show off their skills and prove they have what it takes to be the next motor sports stars? Well, they need a fast team and a reputations era...
🖤Prologue - My Reputation's Never Been Worse
🪩Track 1 - The Beginning of an Era
🐍Track 2 - . . . Ready for It?
🌑Track 3 - Big Reputations (End Game)
😈Track 4 - I Did Something Bad
🍾Track 5 - Don't Blame Me
🥃Track 6 - Delicate
Track 7 - Look What You Made Me Do
Track 8 - Gorgeous
Track 9 - Getaway Car
Track 10 - King of My Heart
Track 11 - Dress
Track 12 - Call It What You Want
Track 13 - New Year's Day
Epilogue: What Goes Around, Comes Around
💿Bonus Tracks
#f1 x driver!reader#logan sargeant x you#logan sargeant imagine#logan sergeant x reader#logan sargeant x reader#logan sargeant#reputations is coming#reputations fic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x you#future grid dad lestappen#future grid dad lewis#grid bestie george#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#andretti on the grid#platonic grid x reader
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day THREEE!!!! of loscar posts until we get a loscar podium!!! do we start writing fics now instead of photo posts?!!!
#f1#formula one#formula 1#f1 fandom#loscar post#loscar fics#loscar#oscar piastri#mclaren#logan sargeant#williams racing#taylor swift#this is why we cant have nice things#tiwwchnt#reputation#lover taylor swift#its nice to have a friend#inthaf#not shipping#this is not a shipping post
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hear it in the silence | 3.2k words
“Ask me,” Mike says, his voice low and quiet and vulnerable, “what I wished for. For my birthday.”
Will’s hazel eyes widen a little bit more, and he hesitates. Swallows the lump in his throat. Glances down at Mike’s lips again, then back up one more time to Mike’s eyes. “If I ask you,” he murmurs, “and you tell me… it might not come true.”
Right – that is how wishes work, after all. You aren’t supposed to tell anyone what you wish for, what your heart desires, what you put all of your hope and longing towards as you blow the candles out on your birthday cake. That’s a secret for you and you alone.
“But,” Will adds, his own voice raspy and low, “I think I might be able to guess.”
Or:
Mike and Will share a quiet moment together away from Mike's eighteenth birthday party.
—
happy birthday, mike wheeler. i wish i could say i adore you as much as will byers does, but i’d be lying to myself
#byler#byler fic#byler fanfic#andi writes not dies#happy birthday to the best boy there is#my idiot son <3#threw this one together#now back to fantasy au#aggressively makes everything about taylor swift#there will be no explanation#there will just be reputation#cause i AM dramatic#thank you so so much.
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Body positive old gays and stabbing (gay stabbing) is your trademark imo
What’s my trademark?
#nsft#riddlebird#oswald cobblepot#Edward nygma#The riddler#bee’s art#nahlaverse#you know what that’s valid#Obsessed with the reputation I built for myself lmao you never know what fic chapter would determine you
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I hear you're where to go for Witcher fic recs! How about some with Geralt being protective over Jaskier? Shippy, if you can find any, but I wouldn't mind platonic! I just want Geralt to look out for his bard. Thank you for your time!
Hello!! Here's what I've got! There's a wide variety of settings and levels of angst, so hopefully there should be something for everone :D
As always, please feel free to add more recs or promote your own work in the notes!
~
Don't Leave Me by @geraskierficrecs
(Rated M, 6.2k)
Jaskier’s hands tighten around Geralt before slowly losing their grip, spasming where they fall limp. “Ger--geralt--”
“Don’t you dare,” he snarls back, “Don’t you dare try to give me your fucking goodbyes. You are not dying.”
“S--silly man.” Jaskier’s smile is full of painful fondness. “Would you fight death for me?”
Geralt swings him up into his arms and nearly weeps at the sound of familiar hooves running in his direction. “Every. Fucking. Time.”
If You Give a Bard a Lute by @ghostinthelibrarywrites
(Rated T, 10k)
After Jaskier’s father disowns him, confiscates all his possessions— including Filavandrel’s lute— and kicks him out with nothing but the clothes on his back, Jaskier spends a long, hungry winter barely surviving. When he reunites with Geralt in the spring, his witcher is determined to get his lute back, even if it means recruiting his fellow witchers to stage a heist.
Wild Blue Yonder by @jaskierswolf
(Rated T, 5.3k)
Geralt's bookshop is slowly falling apart and he's ready to give up when Jaskier wanders into the store
remember me I sing by @echo-bleu
(Rated G, 3.1k - also includes Yennnefer)
Filavandrel's gift was so much more than a simple lute. It seemed fitting, that Jaskier’s soul would be made of wood and strings and beautiful sounds.
The problem is that now Rience has his lute and is threatening to burn it if they don't hand over Ciri. And Jaskier has never told anyone that his very life is tied to his beloved instrument.
This Is How I Disappear by @stacyholmes
(Rated T, 5.4k)
Jaskier keeps texting unknown number. Geralt keeps reading said texts without answering.
The Footsteps We Follow by thiswildheart
(Rated T, 16.5k)
Look, Jaskier's got a lot going on. He's painfully aware that there are cataclysmic events happening and that the troubled teenager he knows might save the world or speed along the end of days. He's also in love with a man who's never even admitted that they're friends, which is almost as bad.
Oh, and he's still working as the Sandpiper, only now a terrifying eldritch creature has entrusted him with the Song of the Seven to give hope to the elves and help them fight back against their oppression. It's probably the bravest thing he's ever done, but not everyone sees it that way.
Luckily he knows some people who excel at last minute rescues.
... then he just has to figure out how to tell Geralt why so many people are trying to kill him. This is going to go great.
Getting Warmer (orphaned)
(Rated T, 8.2k)
Injured and freezing after a kikimora hunt gone wrong, Geralt and Jaskier must wait out a thunderstorm at the bottom of a cliff, huddling for warmth. It is here that Geralt finally confronts his feelings for the bard.
Jaskier and Mountains Just Don't Mix by C4t1l1n4
(Rated G, 3.8k)
Despite the other Witchers' positive reaction to Geralt's bard, Vesemir is reluctant to have a human stay with them at Kaer Morhen so Jaskier attempts to leave and ends up almost freezing to death on the side of the mountain.
Hypothermia fic
Immediately, I Love Him (He's Doing His Best) by @hum-my-name
(Rated G, 26.5k)
"In which Greg is some sort of guardian angel, I don't know"
<><>
A few days ago, Joey Batey did an interview in which he created a lovely little character named Greg. A few days ago, I decided to write a cute little thing about Greg and Jaskier being the best of friends throughout the years, with a dash of Geralt and Jaskier friendship as a treat.
13k words later, here we are. Enjoy.
Broken Mirror by happy_hermit
(Rated G, 2.1k)
To Geralt’s credit, he waits until they’re well away from Kaer Morhen to ask the question. He also waits until Yennefer and Ciri have gone to bed, which makes the whole thing feel a bit too calculated for Jaskier’s liking, which is to say that he doesn’t like it at all.
“Where’s your lute, Jaskier?”
Jaskier doesn’t quite flinch, though his heart does something of the sort all on its own. It is very much a wound that hasn’t healed; as is most of him, these days.
Echo by @kingthunder
(Rated E, 29.5k)
Jaskier loses his voice the morning after a concert. As he and Geralt find new ways to fill the silence between them, they realize it isn't only Jaskier's voice that's been lost—and getting it back will bring them closer than they've ever been before.
If There's Any Sleep At Night by @smolalienbee
(Rated T, 22.8k)
The mare is but a silhouette of a human and yet at his words something passes through her expression - whether it’s surprise, joy, fear, Geralt doesn’t know. But it’s clear that what he said has struck her in some way.
(“She is not some mindless monster, Geralt.” He remembers Jaskier’s words.)
A mare, also known as a mara or a zmora - a malicious entity, a bringer of nightmares and a demon of the night. An easy enough contract to fulfill, if only frustrating, or at least that’s what Geralt believes when he first sets out to hunt down one such mare.
What he doesn’t expect is to be wrapped up in a tale of a wronged soul, of love and of joy.
Also, because I'm not above reccing my own fics, here's a few I've written!
Wash Away the Blood and Tears by me
(Rated T, 1.8k)
Jaskier re-injures his fingers while distracting Nilfgaard from Ciri. Afterward, Geralt volunteers to help wash his hair.
Or: In which Jaskier gets a bath and a nap, and Geralt gets a new role in the group.
We'll Build a Den Out of Pillows (And Get Drunk Again) by me
(Rated G, 2k)
Jaskier gets sick. When Geralt asks how to help, Jaskier jokingly suggests that he build a pillow fort. He does not expect Geralt to take it seriously.
Geralt takes it seriously.
~
If you want more, there’s a Protective Geralt tag on AO3 that I’m sure has many lovely works I haven’t read!
(You can also find my other reclists here)
#wren recs#geraskier#geralt#jaskier#the witcher#the witcher fic recs#witcher#reclists#twn#asks#anon#am i getting a reputation? how fun!#i guess y'all are catching onto the fact that i have no self-restraing when it comes to reclists lol
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