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vettelsvee · 2 days

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MY TORTURED DRIVERS DEPARTMENT REPUTATION'S VERSION ⋆ COMING JUNE 1ST 2024

a formula 1 short stories compilation about my favourite drivers based on each taylor swift song from reputation

taglist: [@celemilii @theseerbetweenus @anniee-mr @stelena-klayley @lozzamez3 @0710khj @afterg1ows @vincentvanshoe @coco-loco-nut @minkyungseokie @lemon-lav @stinkyjax] thanks to all of you who wanted to be tagged! don't forget you can join my taglist by commenting or telling me through dm <3

are you ready for it?

TACK 1 ...READY FOR IT | charles leclerc x reader ⋆ smau Y/N finally decides she's ready to start a relationship with Charles even people just hate her so much for her past dating other F1 drivers.

TRACK 2 END GAME | george russell x reader Y/N, after dating too many guys for fun, is finally ready to settle down her mind by starting dating George, her brother’s best friend.

TRACK 3 I DID SOMETHING BAD | fernando alonso x reader ⋆ smut Fernando has a night one stand with Y/N De la Rosa, his friend Pedro’s daughter. He knows that’s bad, but why the forbidden feels so good?

TRACK 4 DON'T BLAME ME | oscar piastri x reader Y/N is scared to start a relationship with Oscar not only because she’s broken more hearts than she can remember, but also because everyone told her she’s not good enough for the McLaren driver.

TRACK 5 DELICATE | max verstappen x reader Y/N started dating Max and, since the first minute, their relationship has been public. She’s so in love, she’s so happy to be with someone as nice as Verstappen, but she’s also so insecure and vulnerable about what others think about them.

TRACK 6 LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO | lando norris x actress!reader ⋆ smau After breaking up with his boyfriend of three years, Y/N decides to move forward and show people that she wasn’t the villain of her and Lando’s story.

TRACK 7 SO IT GOES... | charles leclerc x reader ⋆ smut After having one of the worst fights of their relationship due to some photos that were leaked and the thoughts of the media and fans of Y/N cheating on Charles, the couple decides to solve problems in a not so talkative way.

TRACK 8 GORGEOUS | sebastian vettel x musician fem oc Sebastian decides to spend a weekend by himself next to Alessia Cavalli, the girl he might be falling in love with after his wife, Hanna, cheated on him. Sebastian is captivated by Alessia, but he can’t just express his feelings: not only the media will become obsessed with them, but also Hanna and the rest of Seb’s family. So, for now, not only Vettel, but also Cavalli, will have to be friends even tough they think about each other they’re gorgeous.

TRACK 9 GETAWAY CAR | george russell x reader After having a relationship with his teammate, Lewis Hamilton, and having broken up with him after many years dating, Y/N just need George as a getaway car.

TRACK 10 KING OF MY HEART | lewis hamilton x reader ⋆ smau Y/N was happy to be single until she met Lewis in one of the Louis Vuitton events.

TRACK 11 DANCING WITH OUR HANDS TIED | oscar piastri x reader Oscar really wanted to spend the rest of his life with his best friend. Y/N wanted to be honest with Oscar and tell him she was truly, madly, deeply, in love with him. However, things turn out to be different and they decide to hide their feelings because they know things will get worse if they're honest to each other.

TRACK 12 DRESS | sebastian vettel x singer fem!oc ⋆ smut Sebastian asks Diana, the girl who used to be her best friend and girlfriend, to go with him to FIA Prize Giving 2018. Diana, who’s a famous singer, decides to wear a dress only for Seb, the guy she still has feelings for and also the father of her daughter, to take it off. Will Seb still have the same feelings for Diana?

TRACK 13 THIS IS WHY WE CAN'T HAVE NICE THINGS | mick schumacher x reader After a meal with Mick's family and friends, Y/N finds out that the toxicity she was dealing with in her relationship with Schumacher wasn't just a thought she had but a reality she was living.

TRACK 14 CALL IT WHAT YOU WANT | sebastian vettel x reader After the loss of her mother due to Alzheimer, Y/N meets Sebastian in a therapy group, who seems to be his savior when her life was falling down to pieces.

TRACK 15 NEW YEAR'S DAY | carlos sainz x reader A proposal on New Year's Day is what Carlos' girlfriend wouldn't have expected after dating for almost nine years with the Spanish guy

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drinking-tea-at-parties · 1 month

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I think about this post on a near daily basis and the thing that really gets me about it is that NOT ONLY does your Kim Points(TM), but YOU CAN ONLY GET THIS DIALOGUE IF HE ALREADY FEELS POSITIVELY ABOUT YOU.

If your reputation with him is negative or zero, you get this instead:

HE WILL ONLY THINK ABOUT HARRY WRESTLING A BEAR IF HE LIKES HARRY. I AM NOT NORMAL ABOUT THIS.

#there are so many little interactions that change based on Harry's reputation with kim #maybe ill make a long post about it some day #this is so funny to me bc like....#his love language is imagining you fighting a fucking bear #disco elysium #kim kitsuragi #fuck his VA obviously. that guy sucks #this is all praise for the programmers/writers #having access to something like fayde is so good #kim is such a weird guy. i love when he plays along with Harry's bs

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thymeofarrival · 5 months

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Gem’s bloodlust is genuinely scary and unsettling and I adore it and her so much

… I hit tag limit on this and I’m not even close to done spilling my thoughts in the tags so I’m going to post so I can copy my tags into real text and keep writing them

#I can’t imagine facing her as one of the uninfected when she’s got my heart rate up just watching from her perspective #she’s a hunter #I’ve written something before about how she talks about murder in the same excited tone as cute decorations #and people sometimes underestimate her because of it despite her reputation as a good fighter #but she’s not a fighter she’s a predator #she’s a hunter and even watching from her perspective sometimes it feels like she’s hunting me #she’s hunting All #and it’s exciting and fun for her #and she needs her pack to some extent but when it gets too big she needs to split off again #idk what’s going on in these tags it’s just. hnnghhh. Red Gem #or even before she went red #just bloodthirsty predator gem reveling in the thrill of the hunt #it’s not nearly as much fun on your own but once you’ve killed a couple people to your side and have the numbers to terrify people #you can do that. you can circle around your prey and corner them and terrify them before you kill them #and it feels like power and it feels like a game and it feels like fun #because it’s not life or death it’s success or failure #but maybe everything is a game to a creature like gem who hops between worlds at will #what if she could leave secret life at any time #like she could hop between empires and hermitcraft at any time #if she can leave then she really is just there to have a chance to enjoy the hunt in a setting where it’s expected #encouraged even #death games as a way to satisfy her bloodlust so it doesn’t spill over someplace where it might Actually Hurt #death games to take the edge off #death games to get a chance to reveal the fangs behind her grin and the sharp points of her antlers #we call her a deer because that’s the closest thing our minds can connect to her appearance #but she’s always been a little too Other for that #oh and now the Void has taken root in her too #it’s claimed her eye and arm #maybe it helped guide her aim #or maybe she’s always been a creature of the space between worlds (what with the way she hops between them)

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writersblockiskillingme · 4 months

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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

JOIN THE TAGLIST HERE!!

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aint-love-heavy · 1 year

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What a loser [x]

#was googling socks to find pictures and came across this lmao #this is some real geek ass shit imagine being this guy lol #always hilarious how angry republicans get when democrats are popular with people in a wholesome way republicans never are lol #made yourselves into the party of being cartoonishly evil but still deeply resent dems for having better optics and reputations. SAD!#politics #🔗#⭐#socks clinton #😺

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fangirl-dot-com · 10 days

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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

564 notes · View notes

herlondonboy · 1 year

Text

I Miss You, I’m Sorry

pairings: Taylor Swift x gn!reader (platonic)

Summary: in which you’ve been at everyone of Taylor’s opening shows in the pit since the Fearless tour, but you’re not at the opening of the eras tour

warnings: angst, unspecified chronic illness, reader death, this was supposed to be happy, spelling mistakes, sad Tay.

word count: 1.5k

You had been to everyone of Taylor Swift’s tours. It was a known fact between the Swifties. So much so that people went go up to you at the beginning of the Reputation Stadium Tour and asked for your autograph.

You and Taylor weren’t necessarily friends, but she was well acquainted with you and how your wear obscure outfits to each show. She often found herself scouring the front rows of each show for a familiar, comforting face.

Many videos had showed how Taylor’s eyes would light up when she saw you and vice versa. How she’d wave giddily, and hold back a laugh at your costume and how you’d bounce up and down, screaming the lyrics louder than anyone else.

You weren’t the first Swiftie, but you had been crowned the biggest Swiftie.

At the end of the Glendale show, you had stayed behind to take a mass amount of photos in your costume. That was the first time you were taken backstage. Part of you thought that you were being kidnapped (three men in all black, looking all emotionless and brooding leading you somewhere dark was suspicious to say the least), but then Taylor was stood in front of you with a wide smile.

Your eyes were wide and your mouth was agape, not to mention that you could hear your heart beating in your ears. “H-Hi?” You squeaked out, afraid that if you spoke too quickly you’d wake from this dream.

“Hi! Y/N, I’m-“

“Taylor-fucking-Swift,” you cut her off with a gasp.

Tears welled up in your eyes. You were supposed to meet her at the Reputation Secret Sessions in New York, but something had come up, so you didn’t get to. Part of you wished this had happened three years ago when you weren’t so weak, but it was happening nonetheless.

“Can i hug you?” Taylor asked.

You nodded rapidly and Taylor leaned forward to wrap her arms around you. You melted into the hug, sniffling softly, “I can die happily now.”

Taylor chuckled, “I missed you at the Secret Sessions,” there was a frown in her voice that made you feel guilty.

“I caught the flu,” You lied, “I didn’t want to make you or anyone else sick. I really wanted to go, though.”

The blonde smiled, still hugging you, “Well, when my next album comes out, I’ll have a super secret session just for you. Since you’re my biggest fan,” She said and there was some truth behind her words.

You had been invited to Taylor’s house to listen to the songs on Lover a few days before the first Lover Secret Session. To say you adored each song (Death By A Thousand Cuts being your favourite) was an understatement.

Taylor didn’t notice how jittery you got when Soon You’ll Get Better was playing. It seemed like you had related especially to that song, whether you were the best friend of the person in the hospital room or you were the person in the hospital room.

Your sister, who was also a big fan of Taylor and had been accompanying you to each tour, had always skipped that song whenever playing the Lover album in order, it hurt.

When Midnights came out, you were practically promised a world tour since the Lover Fest was cancelled due to the global pandemic. That was a hard time Your you and your older sister. As if you weren’t sick enough as it was, you had caught the coronavirus and had been forced into a hospital where your family couldn’t visit you for months.

But it got better. The rerelease of Fearless and the release of Folklore came and some people had spammed your instagram account with the news of finding out that you had helped Taylor write the bonus song. Then not long after, you had been allowed visitors and your sister never left your side again.

Though you were bedridden, you kept a smile on your face. Most people weren’t bothered by your sudden disappearance, it had happened a few times in the past whenever you had gotten sick, because you always came back with a brighter smile.

Then Midnights came out and Taylor announced her Eras tour and TikTok was going wild. Some fans were complaining about the price, some were wondering if you had gotten tickets. That led to people beginning to worry. You had never been gone for two years, and worse, your sister was gone, too.

So, when March 17th rolled up, and Taylor opened the tour with Miss Americana And The Heartbreak Prince, Taylor and her fans searched for you in the crowd. You weren’t there. And the second night in Glendale, you weren’t there either, but your sister was.

And that gave Taylor a little bit of hope. She waved at your sister, who waved back, fiddling with bottom of the top that you wore to the opening of the Fearless tour back in 2009.

At the end of the show, your sister had been led backstage where Taylor had changed and attacked her with a hug. The blonde broke away with a grin, “Hi! How are you? It’s been ages!”

“I’m good, yeah, it has.” Your sister responded, “Life’s been cruel, you know?”

The blonde nodded and looked down, “Where’s?-“

“Y/N told me to give you this,” Your sister held out a diary, making Taylor falter.

“What’s this?” She asked, frowning at the title of it.

Your sister sniffled, “They said- They said that they’re sorry that they couldn’t make it this year, that something came up. They really wanted to be here, Tay.”

The blonde felt her cheeks begin to dampen as your sister continued talking.

“They wrote this when they realised that they wouldn’t-“ A sob tried to claw its way out of your sister’s throat. “M-make it.”

The blonde shook her head.

Whilst the two of you weren’t necessarily friends, you knew each other well enough to know that you didn’t need to label whatever it was going on between the two of you. Your sister’s shoulder’s shook slightly as Taylor took the diary and hugged the woman.

“I’m so sorry,” She apologised profusely. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

A few days later, It was the Las Vegas shows. And, though Taylor hadn’t quite recovered from the news, she couldn’t just not go and perform. So, swallowing down her tears, she made her way onto the stage and sang like she wasn’t feeling all of these negative emotions.

And when it came to her surprise songs, she was sat at the piano, blinking away her tears. She cleared her throat and looked at her fans with a small smile, “So, uh, How is everybody?”

They began screaming on top of each other, making her chuckle slightly.

“Um, I’m sure you’ve all heard by now, but my good friend, Y/N Y/L/N past away last year. Their- their sister told me after the second show in Glendale and they wrote down a diary, wording every thought that had ever crossed their mind about me. They said- they said if they ever died and we became friends they wouldn’t want me to cry for them because they’re ’no one special,’ but they were probably one of the best people that I have ever met.

“Y/N drew a sketch of what their next outfit to one of my tours would be,” The image went up on the screen, before a series of photos of you at tours, smiling at Taylor and the camera. “I just- I wanted to say that even though we didn’t do labels, you were probably my best friend, Y/N,” She sniffled, “And I love you.”

The chords to your favourite song began and as Taylor tried to keep the lump in her throat down and her tears at bay, and a slideshow that your sister had composed began playing in the background.

Your life played out in front of everyone from beginning to finish, from 1994 to 2022. All twenty eight years. The people in the audience watched as you lost your parents and then yourself.

And then in the end, a photo of you grinning tiredly flashed onto the screen as the song faded out. And just as it ended, your voice sounded through the speakers.

Is this recording? Yeah? I’m going to assume it is. Okay, um, it’s February 21st— Happy Birthday, Joe. Uh, i don’t know what I want to say. I mean, thank you to everyone that has made my life worth living. I mean, at fifteen I wore a stupid outfit to a Taylor Swift concert and now I’m friends with her? It’s kind of sad knowing that I’ll never get to hear Speak Now Taylor’s Version, but oh well.

I’m going to be honest, I’m so scared to die. Every night for the past six months I’ve been scared to fall asleep, knowing that there will be a chance that I don’t wake up. I don’t want to die, I’m terrified. I don’t want to leave my sister alone and I know that she doesn’t want me to know, but she’s been crying herself to sleep since we got the news.

I just want to know if you’ll look after her for me? I’m all she’s got. Thank- thank you. I love you.

There was silence followed by Taylor’s small, ‘I love you, too.’ And then cheers from the crowd. Some people were announcing their admiration for you and some were crying.

“I miss you, Y/N.” Taylor whispered. “I’m sorry for not being there with you.”

—

What’s your favourite Taylor Swift song?

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vansmaybeonthewall · 11 months

Text

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

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"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

321 notes · View notes

lewkwoodnco · 7 months

Note

hii i want to request a lockwood x fem!reader based on dress! you can go wild with it, i don’t have any plot ideas or tropes, so feel free to do whatever your heart desires lol have a nice day <3

Dress - Lockwood x Reader

A/N: Some slight sexual descriptions (obviously heheh), 3.5k, enjoy!

The four of them were at the annual Fittes ball, this time without a hidden agenda, surprisingly. At least, most of them. George was looking very interestedly towards the Black Library, and Lucy had dragged her along to find someone to talk to about the food. When Lucy managed to accost a waiter, she seemed to be expressing her feelings about the food perfectly fine on her own, so she left her to it.

She wandered back to the table that they had initially been standing at, catching Lockwood's eye halfway. He had been searching the crowd for something, and his features relaxed when his eyes landed on her. A room filled with some of the city's most influential and wealthy people, and he only had eyes for her. She felt as though she would never get tired of seeing him in his sharp suit and tie, and with the overhead chandelier casting shadows below his cheekbones, he looked ethereal in a way that made her feel even more nervous.

"Lucy find the head chef?"

"Close. A waiter."

He quirked a corner of his mouth and her heart did a somersault. She had become so accustomed to the carefully endearing 'Anthony Lockwood smile' that opened more doors for the agency than it should have, that sometimes she forgot what it was like to see a genuine smile on his face. It might have been just a half-smile, but it was for her, and only her, and she secretly revelled in it.

The look in his eyes changed to something more knowing yet inquisitive, and she had to take a sip of her champagne to look away as her cheeks grew warm. She was sure she knew what he was thinking about; it was all she could think about.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had happened the previous night, right after they had neutralised the source. She was out of salt bombs, backed into a corner by the Rawbones. She heard Lucy distantly yell something just as the Rawbones reached for her, which then shrieked and disintegrated. She had scratched herself on the rough wall she was standing against, but the stinging from the cold air was a welcome sensation after that brush with death. She heard iron chains being dragged somewhere upstairs and she looked up to see Lockwood stumbling towards her.

"You okay?" His voice was rough from inhaling the ashes of the salt bomb George had accidentally dropped near him. He looked alarmingly pale behind the soot on his face.

"Uh, yeah." She couldn't manage a more comprehensive answer from how distracted she was by him checking her for injuries. The scrape that seemed so insignificant suddenly felt much more painful when he winced at it. His hands made quick work of her arms, shoulders, and eventually, face. He stood there for a while, cradling her head, and she watched him with bated breath. His eyes had taken on a feverish glow.

"I'm so glad you're okay," he whispered, mere inches away from her face and leaning forward to close the gap between them. Her body seemed to realise what was happening even if her mind didn't, because her eyes fluttered shut and suddenly all she was aware of was his lips moving against hers. It was demanding yet cautious, and every shift of his head was unbearably intentional. She could taste the smoke that had nearly suffocated him, much like how she had forgotten how to breathe with Lockwood pressed against her. He broke the kiss and turned around, yelling to the others.

"Y/N's fine!"

She sagged against the wall, mind reeling. She most certainly was not.

Lucy rushed over, talking a mile a minute, but she was too disoriented to process any of it. Lockwood was trying to shrug off George who was insistently dressing a cut on his knee before it 'got infected in this chimney of a house.' While their friends fussed over them, their eyes met, her expression bordering on outrage. He quickly looked away, suddenly a lot more interested in George bandaging the blood circulation out of his knee.

The shock hadn’t quite worn off once they were outside, for reasons more than one, so she sat on the steps leading up to the porch while Lucy and George submitted their reports to Barnes. Lockwood was having a bit too much difficulty trying to sit down without bending his knee so he limped over to the rest. Barnes was scribbling something in a cheque book, only half listening.

"Lucy and I were looking for the source on a different floor when the Rawbones showed up on Y/N and Lockwood's floor. We couldn't get down in time but they were alright when we found them."

Barnes tore out the cheque and handed it to him. "Right. Make sure he doesn't keep her up all night, yammering away in her ear."

"That was a one time thing!" Lockwood had only managed to catch the tail end of the conversation, but Barnes was already walking away. DEPRAC had made a late-night visit once for an urgent job, and the two of them had happened to be awake at the time, talking in the library. “I didn’t know you were a night owl like Lockwood,” Lucy had commented the next morning, and she shrugged, choosing to leave out how this wasn’t the first time either. She wasn’t exactly keeping it a secret, or lying, but it just felt like something to be kept between her and Lockwood.

Lockwood frowned at the cheque in the dim light as they walked back to where she was sitting. “That’s all we get for nearly losing an agent? Barnes is starting to take us for granted.”

“Don’t be dramatic Lockwood, she’s perfectly fine.”

“Yes, but she very nearly wasn’t.” A confused silence settled over the rest as Lockwood tried to clumsily backtrack. “I mean, the two of you weren’t there. It really was a very close shave, and Barnes doesn’t compensate the best he could, especially for an agency as small as ours.”

By then, their cab was here, and they started piling their equipment inside.

“Barnes wasn’t far off the mark,” George was saying as she entered the cab. “You can be pushy and Y/N’s too nice to say anything.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. She’d say something if she really was so opposed. Wouldn’t you, Y/N?”

He was finally looking at her again, so she stared back with narrowed eyes for a while before answering, just to make him squirm. “I don’t know, Lockwood. Depends on if you actually gave me the chance.”

He had the decency to look away, embarrassed, while George shared a look with Lucy. Lockwood turned his gaze to the window, annoyed.

“Jesus, George, how tightly did you wrap this thing?”

She was similarly engrossed in her own thoughts for the rest of the quiet cab ride. Could they be joined at the hip sometimes? Sure. But who wasn't? She didn't have a crush on Lockwood, as far as she knew. Watching him fix his hair in the mirror near the front door out of the corner of her eye didn’t count; she just appreciated people putting sufficient effort into their appearance. And she dropped her rapier during training that one time he was adjusting her grip, but only because she hadn’t expected the coldness of his ring. That was all.

Then why did his hands feel so electrifying on her?

"How's your hand?"

They were back at 35 Portland Row, hanging their coats and unwrapping their scarves. Lucy and George were already inside, stripping off wet gloves and socks while the two of them hung back for a bit.

“Oh. S’alright, it’ll be fine in a day.”

"Good, good.” An uncomfortable silence descended on them. “Listen, er, I didn't mean to - you know."

"Mhm."

"It was just...I was scared."

"Yeah."

"I'd have done it if it was George too."

"Ye - George?"

"Okay, maybe not so extreme, but the sentiment would have been the same."

"I'll take your word for it." Lockwood smiled, relieved, and she felt the irresistible need to smile back. A part of her distantly wondered if she was doing that thing again, where she just let him walk all over her, but she didn’t really care. She never felt forced to fit in any sort of mould with Lockwood, though she could see why it seemed like it. That was just something no one would understand.

"So...friends?" She opened her mouth, but the answer didn’t come out as easily as she thought it would. Before today she had never thought of her and Lockwood as anything more than friends, but now that she had a taste of the life she never thought of dreaming of…no. She couldn’t. She was just being delusional.

"Yeah, definitely." She wanted to die. Why was this killing her so much?

"Good. That was crazy. Could you imagine, us...?"

"So crazy." It wasn't his fault she wanted to bite his face off.

"Yeah," he chuckled weakly. "It would be...so terrible. A disaster."

Ruin couldn’t have sounded more enticing with those words falling from his lips.

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Perhaps some alcohol would help calm her nerves. She reached out for her glass of champagne, but it was more delicate than she had anticipated. It slipped from her grasp as she raised it, her other hand reflexively reaching out. Much like Lockwood's hand. Her knuckles slotted perfectly in his palm, and the memory of how her lips slotted perfectly in his flashed in her mind. The four of them were a close-knit group, but there was a reason her and Lockwood drew special attention. They complemented each other well, making up for the other's shortcomings, so naturally in sync with each other's thought processes that they operated like a well-oiled machine. It was part of the reason she didn't get much bothered by him, as insufferable as he was. That is, until last night. He removed his hand from hers, smoothing the tablecloth near the glass in some kind of apology. She set the glass down and pulled her own hand back after a second, feeling uncharacteristically moody.

A kiss or a touch of the hand - what was the difference? She was forever altered, speckled with gleaming imprints in the wake of Lockwood's touch. All yesterday's incident was a catalyst, rushing them along to the same destination they had been circularly meandering towards for the past few months: a romantic Nirvana to soothe the unheard sighs and quaking of the heart. It was maddening. He was maddening.

A silence fell over them. Lockwood fidgeted with his glass, playing with the shadows it cast. She had her hands clasped patiently. She could totally do this. She was so in control of her thoughts and emotions. It was just a silly little infatuation that would be gone by tomorrow. Or next week. A month, tops.

It was partly her fault for choosing to obsess over the kiss all day, which may or may not have influenced her choice of dress when she was at the shops with Lucy that afternoon. By morning, the memory had taken to a hazy dilution that made her wonder if it was all a dream. His pointedly avoidant gazes confirmed that it was reality. She caught herself running through their daily routines in her mind, trying to figure out when was most likely they would touch again. The memory that had been so dreaded though fascinating was now dearly missed, and she clung onto whatever shreds still remained. Now it was just a patchy tapestry of specific sensations that she tried to stitch together: the feel of his breath on her lips, the heat from his body, his fingers pressing incessantly into her skull, leaving fingerprints on her brain -

No. No. She didn't need his touch. She didn't even want it. Ew. Her breath was coming in short for reasons that had nothing to do with what they may or may not have done if they were alone.

She needed an outlet, some sort of release before all the tension coiling up in her made her burst and do something stupid, like confess her undying love for him. She reached for her glass again, hating how that tiny added proximity to Lockwood made her hands shake, and drank desperately. The fizz made her light-headed, and she could feel herself getting drunk, but it eased her suffering. How cruel to be stuck here, alone, with Lockwood so close that she could just reach out and...

She firmly pinned the hand she wasn't using to drink to the table, eyes wandering in search for distraction, anything to take her mind off how badly she wanted his hands on her, the feel of his skin under her fingertips. It couldn't be healthy, the way she was growing dizzy with want, but hell was she enjoying the sweetest torture that only love could promise.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, the distraction came in the form of George hurrying them out of the party, Lucy close behind, both of them nervously glancing over their shoulders. Apparently, George had successfully infiltrated the Black Library but one of the books he had tried to pick out appeared to be a decoy, with a faint hissing sound that might have implied a discreet intruder alarm going off. Whatever it was, they weren't sticking around to find out.

With how jam-packed their schedules were, it didn't take much for them to get tired on regular evenings, and George and Lucy were completely tuckered out from their excursions by the time they reached home. Lockwood and her removed their coats just as they did the previous night, but slower, as if trying to prolong the time they had together. They dragged their feet

"I'm bored."

"And what do you want me to do about it?"

"I don't know." It came out as more of a whine, but she couldn't help it. What should he do? How about stop being so paralysingly attractive, for starters? "Let's do something crazy."

He gave a small laugh. She couldn't think straight and he had the audacity to laugh?

"Y/N." It sobered her up, hearing him say her name. He said it so delicately, so softly, as if smoothing out her rough edges into something delectable, something sweet.

"Yeah?"

"Go to bed."

"Psh. You're no fun." She opened the door a crack and slipped inside, starting to remove her jewellery at her vanity. From the mirror, she watched Lockwood slowly start to close the door and turn away, his eyes lingering on her back.

"Lockwood. About last night."

He stilled, holding the door frame. She couldn't read his expression. She let go of the breath she was holding. It was now or never; time to take the plunge.

"How big of a disaster were you thinking?"

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He was still looking at her, but he hadn't left, and that had to be a good sign. She turned to face him, leaning with her elbows on the desk, mouth dry and brain fuzzy.

"I want you to know that I'm not drunk. Well, maybe a little, but I gave this a lot of thought when I was of sound mind." She jutted her chin out in a superficial display of confidence while her heart threatened to break free of her ribcage. "I don't want you like a best friend. Lucy and George are my best friends. But not you. Never you."

He swallowed, and in that moment, all facades shattered as his want became clear as day. She closed the drawer of her vanity as he slipped in, closing her door with a soft click, and then it was a race to each other. They met at the foot of her bed, and then they were kissing, and it was as good as the night before if not even better, because now they didn't have to stop. She was a mess of nerves and heat and friction, sparks flying along every path Lockwood traced. She fumbled his collar with shaky fingers, internally marvelling at how anyone could have such a debilitating effect on her. She could barely yank his tie off, something he definitely picked up on, the bastard, if the way he smiled against her mouth was any indication. She was done brushing off her feelings, relishing her sweet surrender in bending to his magnetic field. Normally, her skeptical nature meant that she was far from pliable, but in Lockwood's arms, she melted, fitting his body like a puzzle piece.

She felt the hands exploring her waist falter. He pulled away, imperceptibly licking his lips, and suddenly she was as she was 24 hours ago; breathless and overwhelmed by the feel of his hands on her scalp and his lips on hers. She hooked her elbow around his neck and whispered into his ear.

"What if I told you...I was thinking of you when I bought this dress?"

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She opened her eyes blearily, panicking for a second before she remembered that it was Lockwood sleeping next to her. She blinked, oddly calmed by the moonlight shining on his back. She watched him breathe, his face more relaxed than she had ever seen, resisting the urge to trace his features the way she did hours ago. She felt a sudden stab of regret mar the sacredness of her vigil. She shifted uncomfortably, losing herself to memories she tried to forget.

If he was arrogant, she was spiteful, though she would rather die than admit it. She rarely lashed out, but when she did, she just didn't know when to stop, and it was so easy for her to cross into sensitive territory, relishing the feeling of fanning the flames of her anger, even as a small part of her floundered, trying to shake some sense into the rest of her. That same anger had spilled out onto Lockwood once. She couldn't remember, or didn't want to remember, what she had said or what the fight was about. All that she knew was that even as those words were leaving her mouth, the lies stitched into them shocked her. He had tried to maintain a neutral front, ever the professional, but she had glimpsed the sorrow in his eyes as she left the room, walking out of the house without her coat. She was too blinded by her tears to get far, though, and she ended up on a bench not far from their kitchen window.

She spent the next half an hour sobbing harder than she had ever cried before, while a detached part of her brain tried to psychoanalyse the situation. Was it stress? Homesickness? The general fear that any day could be her last? Or a culmination of all of it? She was a frustrating mix of sensitivity and emotional indifference. She wouldn't be surprised if none of them wanted to talk to her every again. Which is why she nearly sobbed with relief when she felt someone sit down next to her, and looked up to see that it was him.

"Lockwood," she had choked out, "I didn't mean it. I didn't mean...any of it. I think you're great. I think - no, I know you're the best thing to ever happen to me." She swallowed, forcing out the last part in a whine. "Please don't fire me." She placed a cool hand on her face, and she was so close to finally calming down, when the full force of her words knocked her down into a mess again. "I take it back. You should fire me." She buried her face in her hands. "God, I was awful. I don't understand how you can bear sitting next to me."

"Yes, so awful that I definitely wouldn't be kicked out the second I even suggested the idea of letting you go." Lockwood said drily, jerking his head towards the window. She turned and saw Lucy's face smushed against the glass and George trying to adjust some sort of hearing contraption made of disposable cups. Lucy smiled awkwardly, drawing the curtains, some muffled argument reaching their ears. "Don't be stupid. I'm not going to fire you. We all have our thing. Yours is your temper." He shrugged. "Big deal. You're so much more than your anger." He put his arm around her in a gesture of goodwill, and his kindness made her sob even harder. "Besides," he whispered, "I know you'd never have meant that."

"I could have."

"No, you couldn't. You'd beat yourself up for just thinking that." She shoved him away as he laughed, a smile on her face despite herself. Right there and then, she had decided that she was never going to forget that feeling of being believed in, of someone having faith in her when she didn't have any in herself. Of someone cutting through her bullshit pretences and seeing her as she was, whole and trying. It wasn't their first fight, or their last, but they somehow always found their way back to each other. Found her way back to here, with him lying by her side. A part of her was still in disbelief that this lifeline of a man was finally in reach, both emotionally and physically.

Lockwood shifted, turning so that his face was now illuminated by the moonlight. Hmm. The trembling in her hands made a lot more sense from this point of view.

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