#thank you for putting this image in my head

[cordeliawhohung]

Core, what about a bit of competition with ps! Gaz? Some new girl who think's she's already the darling of the studio takes a liking to Gaz, but finds out about his ties with reader.

The one time she gets to film with Gaz, she overplays her role and absolutely covers his neck, collar, shoulder, everything with hickeys, hoping it will deter the reader.

So imagine her shock when the next day, she pops into his dressing room and finds the reader in there as well, applying foundation over the marks and littered with dozens from Gaz himself. ❤️

(I realize how dumb this sounds as an ask but it's been rotting my brain for days and I desperately need it gone so I can focus on my college classes 😭)

thanks this has also been rotting my brain because i just love putting people in their place (: more ps!gaz here <3

The crux of your ass sits in perfect place on Kyle's thighs while your legs straddle the expanse of his hips. Warm hands rest on your waist as you manhandle his jaw, tilting his head side to side to get better access to his neck. Thick, round hickeys litter the delicate skin around his throat and down to his shoulders in angry, red pinpoint marks that break the beautiful and even tone of his skin with something revolting. They look like proper bruises rather than the after effects of a... wild video shoot. As if someone had tried to strangle him rather than make love to him.

You remember the video well, along with that new model with her fake blonde hair and even faker tan that they had paired Kyle with to shoot the other day. You had only seen her in person one time, and you vividly recall the way her blue eyes rolled over your body, assessing every inch of you before ultimately deciding you were worth very little time. Confidence was a must when you worked in the porn industry, but her attitude borders on an arrogance you haven't seen since your teenage years in public school.

As you apply yellow color corrector onto the dark marks on his skin, you nearly shiver as the images of her stained lips suckling on Kyle's neck flood your mind. There was little room to feel jealousy about her ravaging your favorite co-star when you were too busy cringing. So childish. Over zealous. You nearly cried tears of laughter when you noticed Kyle's expression, grimacing at the wet tongue and annoying teeth that nipped at him, yet still having to pretend to enjoy it. Even the comments on the video joked about it.

Put him back with the other model.

"If I didn't know any better, I would have thought someone tried to strangle you," you tease.

"She might as well have," Kyle sighs. He adjusts his shoulders against the back of the chair, bare pecs flexing with the movement, bringing your attention to the uncovered marks that line his collarbone. "Haven't been able to go out in public without a goddamn turtleneck 'cause of her."

You chuckle as you finish applying and buffing out the rest of the color corrector along his skin. It leaves him looking sickly and discolored, which oddly enough is an improvement to what it looked like before. Setting the corrector to the side, you grab foundation next, hips swaying as you attempt to get some movement in your aching knees. Holding that position for so long without moving had them burning with fatigue.

"Need a break, doll?" Kyle prompts, hands sliding from your waist to your thighs.

"Don't know if we have time for a break. Got a lot of ground to cover before we start," you humor.

Kyle sits forward, throwing you off balance, yet he doesn't let you sway very far before his arms wrap around you, hands supporting your back. Adoring eyes crease as a grin floods his face. Even without the aid of studio lights he glows like a god as he leans closer and places a kiss on your neck.

"Show can't start without us," he says, teeth grazing your skin as he wanders down to your collarbone. "Could always give you a few hickeys to match, if you want."

He doesn't wait for you to answer before his tongue glides across your clavicles just for his teeth to follow right after. A chuckle rumbles in his chest at the tightening of your legs around his hips, and his hands only pull you closer. It doesn't take much for you to give in. Head rolling back, muscles melting as his lips conquer everything you're willing to give him. It's a delicate softness mixed with a brutal bite, something that leaves you gasping as he pulls the very air from your lungs and feeds on the sounds.

Kyle is more starved for you than usual. Sick of the fake, over dramatic screeching he got last week with that other model, he's hungry for the real thing. Hungry for you.

The unopened foundation falls free from your loose fingers and rolls along the floor into some forgotten corner when his hands wander underneath your shirt. It's a dance he has memorized; unclasping your bra without a second thought and tearing both it and your shirt off in a single, swift motion. He gives you little time to recover before his mouth is on your tits, kissing a sparse trail until he's rolling a perky nipple between his lips.

His bare skin feels like heaven underneath the palm of your hands as you grip his shoulders for stability. He'd take you on the cold, dressing room floors, you knew he would. A part of you wanted him to. Fuck the shoot, they should've learned well enough to put cameras in the dressing rooms by that point with how handsy Kyle Garrick always was with you.

"Can't wait until we get on set to try and undo me?" you ask breathlessly.

"Doll, I'll undo you right here and then again on set if you asked me to," he mumbles into your skin.

A quiet squeak interrupts your moment and the ambiance of the room shifts when the door to Kyle's dressing room opens. His hands grow stiff against your spine as you look over your shoulder at the figure in the doorway. You smell her perfume before you recognize her. Something drowning and floral, like a mall department store. It burns your nose, yet you're too distracted by the slack-mouth surprise etched onto the features of the new blood's face.

It's cute; her confusion. How her eyes flicker over your bare back and Kyle's hands pressed against your skin like he's cradling the only thing he cares for in the world. The dots just can't quite connect in her mind as to why he hasn't completely fallen for her yet, as if the only way she knows how to lure men is by butchering their neck with discolored marks. She can't comprehend why he'd rather have you in his lap than her.

Kyle draws a shocked groan from you when his teeth nip at your shoulder, and your eyes have no choice but to fall away from the woman in the doorway as he pulls you closer to him. His chin gently rests on your shoulder as he stares at the model, hands moving to rest on your hips.

"Need somethin?" he asks, bored.

There is very little you wouldn't have given to see the look on her face, but the small huff followed by the door slamming shut is good enough. Small giggles rattle your body as you lean back to get a better look at Kyle, as if your body would throw a fit if he wasn't within your sight. There's an inexplicable relief that floods his face as he looks up at you, and he mirrors your smile.

"What?" he defends. "Only asked her if she needed somethin."

"I think you broke her heart," you patronize.

"She'll live," he mumbles, lips falling against the crook of your neck again. "Your heart is the only one I care about, anyway."

#pornstar!gaz #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader smut #cod smut #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader smut #f!reader

[bigfatbimbo]

Saw somebody mentioning Vox meeting his assistant Dom in hell and I’m just imagining him doing some PR event, flashing that million dollar smile and shmoozing when he looks into the crowd and freezes.

It’s not uncommon for people not to recognize those who they knew in life because of how crazy the changes can be (he has a tv head for hell’s sake) but he recognizes that posture and that confident, no-nonsense look. It’s kind of like looking at a fun house mirror version of someone he used to know.

At this point, he’s been dead for a while and enough time has passed to establish himself (maybe the vees are already a thing or maybe he’s on the rise) so he’s already put his past behind him in exchange for the new and trendy. But now he’s having a flashback to firm hands, a stern voice, and late nights in his office. He blue screens a bit and has to laugh it off in front of the interviewers.

After: It makes sense that you’d be in hell, maybe you’ve been here a while without him knowing. He remembers how good you were at your job. In life you were resourceful and ruthless, taking pride in doing the impossible.

If you were working for someone else it could cause serious trouble for his company. You could also be a major asset if hired but…

Hell is a lot more lax than 1950s America but he’s built a very specific image for himself and power is EVERYTHING down here. He thought he had rebuilt himself and put it all behind him but this could risk everything.

He’d be careful this time, keep you at a distance. He could have you as a skilled worker AND keep his pride intact. It’s a big company, you won’t even have to be in the same room. And he’s so much stronger than he used to be. He can keep his image, it won’t happen again and he totally isn’t thinking about it.

Maybe the assistant joins, maybe she doesn’t… or maybe she makes him beg

-Friday

Friday anon you have a way with words oh my god because I love this idea so much. Lowkey you really sold this, you’d be a good writer ☝️🤨

But the way this would throw him through a crazy ass loop. Because he’s probably built himself up in his head, and being an overlord with a, quite literally, inhuman amount of power, he definitely has a new standard for himself.

Because now it’s more than just gender roles and fragile masculinity, it’s an even more fragile god complex. So to think he’s grown out of whatever submissive, borderline weak phase he was in during life isn’t exactly out of the question.

Part of him didn’t want to risk it, but you working for another overlord could cause problems. With his new empire on the rise, he could use an efficient, overachiever type of worker. However, the one thing that would change was the dynamic.

Simply put, there wouldn’t be one. Although he could use your help for his business, an arms length distance would be more than appropriate. After all, being seen as weak in hell could have a more dire effect.

Good thing that wouldn’t be a problem; a strong man in life makes a stronger one in death, after all. So he approaches you after the PR event, trying to act as casual as possible, treating as a ‘Y/n, how longs it been!? Decades?” kind of conversation. Acting as if your relationship was never as intimate as it really was.

Thankfully, you knew to go along with his casual tone, just like he trusted you would. However, you went along with it a little too well. His ‘arms length’ approach was working extraordinarily well, however thanks you to you. His plan was to ignore you in hallways, maybe a small wave at best, and only engage when he specifically had too.

But even then, in closed off hallways in the off chance of seeing each other, his small nod would be greeted with absolute silence. Not even a look in his direction. This has happened a few times, no look, no wave, not even a shoulder bump. Scarily formal.

Were you mad? No, you wouldn’t have wasted time being petty. But if nothing you’ve done has been petty, that means you really just didn’t care. You got your work done, at an incredible pace, as per usual, exceeding all other workers. Your name was known throughout the office and the more business deals you closed for Voxtech, throughout the small business clicks of hell.

But you stayed loyal, not to Vox, but to Voxtech. Did that mean you did care? No, Vox supposed, it meant that just as in life, you liked to finish jobs you started, or at the very least not abruptly switch bases. So does that mean you and Vox’s incredibly hot work affair meant nothing to you?

…Because it didn’t to him either. But there were days he’d catch a glimpse of you in the offices working, and he can’t help but let his mind wonder to those late nights. He’d always put up a fight, but you and your stern tone and firm hands elegantly broke him down, each and every time.

The shame he’d felt at being overpowered and conquered by his female assistant, but his hunger for more lingered on his mind just like your perfume lingered through the rooms you exited.

It’d been years, but seeing as it was the hottest sex in his life and death, he’d remembered the little details; the smell of your hair, your hands, the dominance in your voice, your knowing look, your lips, fuck your hands… and now it’s late and most of everybody else is gone. And Vox makes his way over to your office.

Your door is open, but he still knocks his knuckles against the wood, lingering in the door frame, “Knock, knock.”

You recognize the voice, raise an eyebrow, and to Vox’s dismay, barely glance up your paperwork. Setting your mug on your desk, you adjust yourself on the chair, telling him to “Come in.”

“Y/n,” Vox brushes off a speck of lint off his suit jacket and grins, “Thought I’d check on your work. If i’m correct, you have important paperwork to turn in?”

He hoped he was. In all honesty, he didn’t pay much attention to the employees specific jobs unless it purposely inconvenienced or benefited him. Otherwise, he didn’t check what various paperwork was delivered or checked by who.

You smile, “Just finishing up, easy stuff. It’ll be a breeze for you, just a few signatures.”

Setting your papers down, you finally look at him, “Will that be all, sir?”

Vox’s smile drops. No, it shouldn’t be. It simply didn’t feel right for it to be. But your look wasn’t questioning, instead almost amused, as if you were expecting this, and looking forward to his leaving.

Without anything else to do, Vox simply stalled. Did you think to do this? What about this other thing? Well this is nearly impossible so surely you hadn’t done this! But, some things never change. And you had in fact done everything. Not only that, but your smile grew with every task you’ve already accomplished.

Finally Vox snapped. Just as he’s done before, blabbering aimlessly about your overachieving, meaninglessly raising his voice is his facade display of dominance.

Then you stood up, and considered his outburst. “You know, i’ve been getting other offers. Companies who ‘care’ more. Pay more,” he goes silent, “You want me to stay?”

He nods, going to say something else before you cut him off.

“Anything else you want?” you drawl, backing him into the door.

“Hold on—“

“Beg.” And he does.

#hazbin hotel x reader #vox x reader #dom reader #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin vox x reader

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Twenty-Three

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 

Authors Note: Another update this week?? I'm as shocked as anyone else, but hopefully this one will make up a little for the last! It's longer and a little less, um, idk, I can't say emotional?? because that would be a lie:/ Still, there are some developments! Also, it'll make sense a lot later but the 2nd image and the use of a Ride song are used in this one!

Hope you enjoy! Also thank you for all the love on this current series, it means a whole lot and keeps me writing xx

Warnings: similar to that of the last post! so pls look back there if you'd like to know!:)

> Last update: look back here if you'd like!

Masterlist

“I said no.”

Stressed was a feeling beyond words at this point. The past couple of days all I’d had was press hounding at me, calling and texting, emailing at all hours of the fucking day. They wouldn’t let up, even after I’d stayed silent. Adi reckoned it was mostly down to Teddy’s involvement in the whole thing. I didn’t want to think much more about it, although I knew she wasn’t wrong.

“Give me a reason at least?"

I shot a scathing glare over my shoulder before turning back to the filing system I’d taken to reorganising. It was my first morning back at the studio since... yeah, well Finn had Teddy- another factor to my current load of stress- whilst Adi was off doing something or other. I hadn’t asked, fearful of putting more of a strain on her current friendship- relationship??- with Ross, so instead I’d just chosen to tidy and rearrange the entire setup we had going on here. Because that was perfectly normal. And not a fucking way to evade talking or thinking about the mess that was my life. Okay?

“I don’t need a fucking reason, I just don’t want to.” I retorted, hissing slightly when I suddenly cut my thumb on the edge of a document. I withdrew my hand quickly and raised it towards my mouth, letting my eyes slip close for a moment when I heard a footfall step closer.

“Let me see.” Jamie sighed, probably thinking I’d done something worse to my hand than just a papercut. To be fair, the cabinet was old. One of them filing types from the ninety’s that we’d gotten for a score down at some boot sale, so I wouldn't be surprised if one of us did eventually end up losing an arm.

I shook my head and pushed the cabinet drawer closed, “It’s fine, just a papercut.”

Jamie huffed an amused chuckle before settling down on the edge of the desk nearby. It was Adi’s, you could tell from the sheer amount of shit she had accumulating it.

“One thing after another with you.”

My head tilted towards him with a deadened expression, “Ha ha.”

The older man raised his hands up in a mocking surrender, showing he hadn’t meant any real harm. “Too soon?”

I kicked at the toe of the leather boots he wore in retort as I moved towards the kitchenette, aware that he was just trying to lighten my horrendous mood but not really in the right mind for it. 

“You want a brew?” I asked, not bothering to give him an honest reply to that question of his. Too soon? Yes, that was all too fucking true.

“Have a coffee if there’s one going.”

I dipped my head in a slight nod, filling the kettle and setting it to boil before snagging the coffee often reserved for guests on the show from a shelf nearby.

Jamie moved to better face me on Adi’s desk as I did so, wearing that same expression he’d turned up in, all concerned and weary. It bothered me a bit, seeing as though it was all I had garnered since the press had had their field day with my life, but I could also understand why. They all just seemed to feel for the idiot stupid enough to fall into another of Matty Healy’s traps.

“Stop.”

“Stop what?” He wondered around a light chortle at my demand, hands falling to rest between his thighs.

I gestured towards his face whilst I poured a splash of milk into my mug, “Looking at me like that, like I’m gonna break or something.”

With a sigh, he pressed his lips together. “You know it’s not like that.” I rolled my eyes in return but he just bounded on, “You know it’s not, I just care is all.”

I forced out a breathless chuckle, “That why you’re here trying to get me to hear him out then?”

To be fair to him, Jamie had come right out with it when he’d first popped by, having messaged me asking after my whereabouts earlier this morning. I’d told him, having spoken to him quite a bit over the last couple days, and then found him on the doorstep. 

Jamie had been good with everything. He’d let me vent, rally against one of his friends and clients, question his own motives- and hadn’t even complained one bit. But now he was here asking me to give Matty a chance, a lot like he’d done that first time around in that small cafe all those months ago.

“I know you’re angry, you have every right to be.”

“Of course I’m fucking angry!” I immediately shot back at him, the rattle of the teaspoon ringing out as I dropped it into a mug, “I wouldn’t care if it had just been me he’d gone and fucked over! But he brought Teddy into this shit, Jamie. My son! So tell me, how am I supposed to hear him out after he’s done something like that and then lied about it? For weeks, mind you.”

Jamie looked back at me, wearing that ‘this meant business’ mug of his. I slumped at the sight, pressing my knee against one of the lower cabinets to continue stirring the drinks. I didn’t care, I didn’t care, I didn’t care.

“There’s a lot you don’t know, Mouse.”

My eyes slipped closed at his words and I took a second to just breathe. Because I wasn’t angry, not really. I was hurt and humiliated, and just so fucking sad. Fed up with it all, if I was being honest. Enough so that I knew that Jamie was being truthful here- and not just because it was a fact that I hadn’t spoken to Matty since things had fallen apart, but also because I hadn’t had the heart to ask Teddy about things yet. Or if ever.

The kid was four. Four, and asking after a man every night before he fell asleep and then as soon as he opened his eyes the next morning.

He knew something was up, he was smart like that. But what was I meant to do- to say? When I was just as confused as he was.

I’d ended up leaving him with Finn today, having had no other choice in the situation because the nursery was closed for an inset day, or some shite like that, and it seemed I had no other friends than the few around me. 

Could quite literally count the lot of them on one hand. 

But still, Finn and I’s relationship had still been rather rocky after that whole incident with him and Matty, and hadn’t improved since. In fact, he’d been a little unbearable about everything, always one to toot his own horn whenever he was right about something. But it was always slyly and I couldn’t help but feel as though it was a constant dig, like even when he wasn’t commenting on it he was still thinking it whenever he looked at me.

Which felt so horrible to think, let alone say out loud. He was my best friend. So I’d kept my mouth shut and just dealt with it, like I did everything else in life.

“He’s messed up about it.” Jamie then spoke, his voice having startled me a tad, breaking me out of my musings. He was watching me again, only when he did it, it didn’t feel as condescending as everyone else's. Like he understood my position. And I guessed that he probably sort of did.

“I bet.” I scoffed quietly, an airy titter escaping through my nose, and then I turned to toss my teabag away.

“It’s true.” Jamie shrugged, then nodded in thanks when I pushed a coffee his way. “He’s been ‘round Ross’s ever since shit hit the fan, hasn’t left the flat. Driving the lot of us mad, but he’s torn up, Mouse.”

Tongue in cheek, I wrapped my hands around my cup and propped my hip up against the counter, staring into the still swirling liquid. “Serves him right, I guess.” I replied with a soft shrug of my own, though we both knew I didn’t quite mean it.

Jamie looked over towards one of the windows to the right, most of them were either way too long or too tiny for the space, an odd build, but this particular one gave way to the skyline lying over the remainder of the city. I often wondered what the lower levels might look out at, thinking it was probably the majority of the surrounding buildings, and couldn’t help but feel a little thankful that we’d managed to snag this unit.

When he glanced back over at me, I took a sip and let him speak.

“A lot went on, that much I know, and it’s your choice how you deal with it. But, I saw the two of you. I saw him change. Which is stupid to say, I know, but it doesn’t stop it from being true. He was different with you, he actually tried in other aspects of his life and not just with the band and the music. He looked genuinely happy.” He smiled softly at the eye roll I gave, but it didn’t appear to deter him. “Don’t get me wrong, I know you didn’t fucking cure him. Don’t work like that, does it? But you helped. You and Teddy both.”

I looked away then, back towards the window, unable to really help it, and instead allowed my eyes to trail over the clouds which powdered the dusty blue sky. 

“It was different. Things were different, and I know that there was love there. There couldn’t not have been. The way he looked at you…” Jamie shook his head ever so slightly as he breathed out, unaware of just how deeply his words had cut. But then he peered over at me and I found myself already looking back, air caught somewhere in the swell of my lungs. 

“Don’t.” I choked out, the grip on my mug having tightened tenfold. “Just,” I shook my head.

Jamie put his coffee down on the desk and moved to stand, hands raised to convey he wasn't a threat. “I’m not saying this to hurt you more, love. Just telling you how I saw it.”

I licked at my lower lip, casting my eyes downwards. Our silence stretched and all could be heard was the odd car horn and chirp from beyond the walls of the studio, until-

“Anyone here?”

I blinked back the tears which had started to well in my eyes and sniffed, head shooting up just in time to spot a familiar giant ducking their head under the beam of the doorway, limbs following right after.

George entered but then stopped short when he spotted his manager stood by me, and I laughed to myself at the way the pair of them seemed to eye one another, before stepping in, “Didn’t hear you ring the buzzer.”

Kind eyes darted over to find my soft smile then, welcoming him in, and so George finally moved in closer, laying the jacket he wore to rest over one of the armchairs.

“Yeah, someone was just leaving and let me in.” He answered my unasked question, shrugging as he added, “Dunno whether they recognised me or if they just let anyone up.”

“Probably the second,” Jamie piped up, seemingly having broken himself from his previous bout of surprise, “This lot ‘round here don’t give much of a shit about crap like that.”

I rolled my eyes, but was glad to have a reason to smile slightly. “Or they spotted the BFG making his way over and wanted to avoid pissing him off.”

Jamie cackled whilst George just shot me a narrow-eyed look, “Hilarious. That pot just boiled?” He asked me as he wandered over. I nodded in turn and moved to grab him a cup, only faltering when he lowered my hand with his own and shook his head. “I got it.”

I dipped my head slightly, blinking before taking a step back to let him work. He made a quick go of it, rummaging around the cupboards briefly to find what he needed and only asking for the spoon I still held for some odd reason when he was near done. 

Jamie appeared to have been watching him too, a calculating glaze to his eyes, and he chose that next moment to speak up, “How you been anyway, George? Not seen much of you lately.”

Something unspoken passed between them when George glanced over at him, but I couldn’t tell what.

“Good, busy.” Was what the taller decided on, throwing Jamie a quick smile when he crossed to toss his own teabag in the bin before settling on the counter to the left of me. “You?”

It almost sounded sarcastic, not how he said it but simply because he’d asked it at all, knowing everything that had recently occurred. It must have been a right nightmare for Jamie these last few days, what with him being the band’s main man.

Jamie just laughed though, goodnaturedly, though it was apparent that he was still trying to suss out what was going on, what with George’s sudden appearance. Seeing as I’d never once mentioned him to Jamie.

See, things with George had all started after that studio session Teddy had attended, followed by my wishing him a happy birthday just before Matty had gone and done what he did best. Wrecked it all.

Teddy had become all too smitten with the drummer since he’d first been introduced to the band and their many songs and music videos. He enjoyed the guitar he’d been gifted an awful lot, often playing with it and practising, but each time any sort of song played on the tele or the radio, or even in the car, it wasn’t hard to note the way Teddy instantly mimicked George’s swift movements, pretending to drum along to whatever beat heard. 

George had messaged me on Instagram later that same day, seeing as how apparently Teddy’s appearance at the studio had stuck with him, and asked after him a little. It seemed strange worded like that, but George reckoned that Teds had a real streak of a musicality about him, even as young as he was, and wanted to see if Teddy would be up for learning some more. 

Which had been a Godsend, honestly, what with how the next couple of days had gone down. I’d given him my number via dm just before the storm had started and then the afternoon that had followed the plethora of articles he’d called.

He’d asked how I was at first, almost consoling me in that easy way of his, so full of little words, which had been all too refreshing in truth.

I’d had texts and calls off of practically everyone I knew, even Ronan, the utter prick. And none had managed to soothe me quite like George’s had, seeing as the man had been there too. Not quite in my position, sure, but near enough. He’d even let a little of it slip when he’d popped on over that same day, bringing a bag of takeaway and a roll up drum mat as a gift for Teddy, who had been cooped up with me on the sofa for most of the afternoon. 

The two of them had bonded over it rather quickly, Teddy having been caught off guard by George’s sincerity almost as much as I had been. But then I'd found myself getting to know the drummer too and very much appreciating the unnecessary gesture he’d made for me, even with the pair of us not knowing one another as well as we could have.

I had no idea what was going on between him and Matty, I hadn’t had the balls to ask, but he’d mentioned he hadn’t heard much of anything from him since the night of his party, as well as the fact that his girlfriend, Charli, had been just as annoyed with everything that had gone down.

I knew he’d be stopping by at some point today, we’d made plans to get lunch once he’d heard I was back at the studio on my own, but not recording. I reckoned he was concerned and this was his way of showing it, but it was hard to tell with him most of the time seeing as he’d made it out as though I was doing him a favour here. An effort I came to find I much appreciated. 

“Work, you know how it is.” Jamie replied after a long pause. He was still standing in the same position he’d been in since George arrived, but seemed to move then, picking up what was left of his coffee and pouring what remained down the sink. “But I’d best be going, got a couple calls to make. You gonna be at the studio tomorrow?”

George hummed around his next sip, pulling away with only a dip of his chin. “Should be.”

Jamie smiled, nodding, “Good, I’ll let the rest of them know then.”

I caught George’s slight wince at that, though he didn’t protest his manager's comment. It made me wonder.

Jamie turned to me then, shucking on his jacket. I perked up, not having realised that he really was rushing to leave now. “Remember what I said, alright?”

I blinked, but then nodded. How could I forget? I wanted to ask, but instead said, “You don’t have to head out so quick.”

He sent me a reassuring grin as he flipped over the collar of his coat. “You won’t miss me much,” He then teased before roping me into a hug, “Weren’t lying when I said I had a couple calls though, so it’s best I get out of your hair whilst I still can.” 

I smiled softly at the sound of his lighthearted chuckle and nodded before following him over to the door, “Stay safe.”

Jamie rolled his eyes, all too used to my typical parting now, though amused by it all the same. “Can’t promise anything.” He retorted with a smirk, shuffling over the threshold whilst his eyes flickered back to where George still stood once more. “So, about before?”

I inhaled shakily, though Jamie didn’t seem to notice, fingering the pockets of his jacket in search of his mobile. “I’ll think about it.” I told him.

He flashed me a grin at that, pleased, then let his heel trail over to meet the top step of the metal grating. “Talk to you later then.”

I nodded and watched for a second as he descended the staircase, head bobbing down the first set before he turned and disappeared from view. Sliding back inside, I shut the door quietly behind me, taking a second to steel my nerves before facing the room again.

During that time, George had seemingly gone and made himself comfy on the settee, his mug settled on a coffee table coaster. I moved to join him after putting both mine and Jamie’s cups under the tap to rinse before just leaving them to soak.

George was fiddling with something when I sat down beside him but shuffled over a tad to allow me to get more comfortable, “So what was that about?” I questioned.

“With Jamie?” He asked and I nodded, even though I reckoned he already knew what I was on about. 

He shrugged slightly and I noted the way his finger trailed over a slip of folded paper, it was creased as though it had been played or fiddled with a dozen times too many. My brow seemed to furrow at the sight of it. 

“He tried phoning a few times but I’ve not been too keen on answering, learnt that I’ll just get dragged into the drama if I do.” George finally answered, and for some reason I felt a wad of guilt pool in my stomach upon hearing it, even though I hadn’t been the one to cause this mess.

Or maybe I was just kidding myself.

“Sorry.”

George huffed as he turned to peer over at me, elbows resting on the tops of his knees. “Nothing to be sorry for.” He told me and then gifted me a sweet smile, “None of this is on you. Just thought we were in the clear, you know?” He looked away at that and his smile dimmed into something smaller, almost sadder. “Figured I wouldn’t have to go dodging my mates calls anymore, or be roped into cleaning up everyone else’s messes.”

He reached a hand out to settle on my knee then, probably having noticed the way I was chewing on the insides of my cheek, or maybe the fact that my lip was now trembling. I’d never felt so shitty. So at fault for something I hadn’t really seen coming, nor could I prevent.

“Not your fault, remember?” He reiterated to me, squeezing my joint softly before pulling away. I sniffed before looking up at him with a tiny smile. 

“Promise I don’t usually cry this much. Just been a shitty week is all.” I told him, laughing pitifully as I toyed with the hem of the jumper I’d put on earlier that morning when I’d purposefully avoided the hoodie that had been left on my desk chair, as well as the cupboard full of clothes that didn’t belong to me.

I felt the settee dip slightly before I found him sitting right beside me, lifting an arm to wrap me up in a hug. His cheek came to rest on the side of my head and I felt my heart break that little bit more, because it reminded me that in a second, or two, I wouldn’t have that sense of protection he now offered, shielding me from the rest of the world.

“You’ve been put through the wringer.” George murmured and I had to laugh just a little bit, he laughed too, the sound of it reverberating through his chest to where my head rested. “Fucking cry if you want to, alright? No judgement here."

I spluttered a little on my next chuckle, smiling as I wiped at my eyes. George’s arm just tightened its hold by a fraction, as though he knew it would make things that little bit easier. We both sat there like that for a while, and I appreciated the fact that he was okay with a bit of quiet. That he didn’t run scared from it or try to start up an awkward conversation simply to fill it.

Silence was something I’d come to realise that George often favoured. Because sometimes that was all you really needed.

I don’t know how long we continued like that before he shuffled and pulled that same piece of paper from earlier back into view, holding the corner of it between his forefinger and thumb. I pulled away slightly, looking down at it and then back up at him with a small frown.

“What?”

George merely blinked, staring down at the paper with an odd look before he finally placed it in the hand I had resting on my thigh. My frown only deepened.

“What is it?” I asked him, finger trailing over an edge just as he had done when I’d first spotted it. When I went to unfold it from the opposing corner, he stopped me. 

Confused, I turned to raise a brow at him, only to find him already looking back at me. He bit into his lower lip and then flattened his mouth into a stern line, “I found that when I was last in the studio.”

My chest tightened for some reason, but I was still so baffled. “Okay?”

We were sitting up better now, George’s arm having slipped from my shoulders to come to rest in his lap, fingers trailing over his left hand’s rigid set of knuckles.

“I figured you should see it.” He added in his usual drawl, though his eyes flickered up from the paper to catch mine then and I realised it must've been important. He seemed wary enough to warrant it.

I went to unfold it once again, but then his hand really reached out to stop my own, “I don’t know if I should be here when you do.”

That alone made me even more curious, although there was an edge of caution that now warred at me. “Why?”

George gifted me a gentle smile, the hand that still laid over top of my own squeezing kindly. “I’ll go grab us some food, alright? If you want to open it then do, if not. I won’t mention it again.”

He moved to stand then but my hand shot out to grab at the sleeve of his arm, “George.” But I didn’t know what else to say, I knew I was fearful though.

His fingers moved to meet mine, resting there for a short moment, “It’s your choice. Just, I couldn’t keep it from you.”

I swallowed thickly as he pushed to his feet, the scuff off his heavy boots bouncing off the hardwood floors. Slowly he moved to grab his jacket, giving me time to say no, to deny his offer. But I couldn’t, I couldn’t do much of anything really.

The door shut behind him with a soft click a minute later and the quiet of the studio suddenly consumed me. When I glanced back down at the paper I held once more I saw the slight tremble of my hands. I forced myself to exhale, but even that was shaky.

I was careful as I unfolded it, listening to the rustle it made before scrawled lines that had bled through to the other side caught my attention. Pausing, I took a moment to just look at them and then thoughtlessly hurried to reveal the rest of it, taking in its full form. My throat tightened at the sight of familiar scribbles.

You had me from the start  Pulling all the stops out  On the down low, secretly  But I think you knew your psychology  Was working on me  Infatuated  And doing this all wrong  You've got  My number and my name  And you've got me going  Yeah, you've got me going  Can I see you every day?  Do you love me  Like I love you?  Ah, you've got me going  Yeah, you've got me going

(Song: Ride - Future Love)

It was as if something in me had shifted and then turned, sparking itself its very own flame on a bone too sharp and growing and growing until its singed edges burnt and blackened every part of me. 

I must've sat there staring down at it for ages. Crying silently and alone in an empty room, something I’d been avoiding doing since this had all started. Though I supposed it had been inevitable.

His words. His thoughts. Bared to me on a single page. Him none the wiser to any of it. Probably having not even realised it was gone, or missing. And George had read it. He’d seen it and still, after everything, had given them to me.

A tear dropped from my chin then, blotting the page and I could only watch on as the dark ink appeared to cling to it, seeping further and further into the paper. Smudging the ‘Do you love me’ enough so that my breath stuttered and I was suddenly moving all too quickly for my mind to catch up with my thoughtless actions.

Not even a second later my phone was in my hand. 

Messages now To: Jamie O (glasses!) When can he meet me? 

–

Matty had always had a thing for Sundays. 

There was just something about them. Not all that Godly shite that people preached about it being holy and the first day of the week, ‘cause to him Monday would always hold that title- and Monday’s fucking sucked dick. 

No, it was because there was just something peaceful that settled on Sundays, it took him back to simpler times, of days when he’d just been a kid and roast dinners were spent ‘round his nana’s house. Or when Newcastle would play on afternoons and his dad would finally be home to watch with him. 

There was just something about them, you know. He didn’t much believe in luck, typically only the bad sort. But if someone held a gun to his head and told him he had to claim a day which would forever work in his favour, it would just have to be Sunday.

Still, he was unsure on where he currently stood with that sentiment as of late. Seeing as how he was currently in the backseat of a cab, jittery hands clinging onto shaking knees whilst rows of houses, broken up by hues of green and blue, rolled on past him.

It hadn’t been a last minute thing, but it felt much like it. The anticipation was getting to him, he knew that much, sweat licking at the back of his neck whilst his shoulders worked their way up to the lobes of his ears.

Jamie had somehow managed it.

Called him up late last night just before Ross had headed off to bed to tell him that she would finally see him. Jamie’d asked if he’d be alright going alone or if they’d prefer a buffer there, but Matty had immediately declined. So he was doing it alone. Though he couldn’t help but wonder if that had been a misstep on his part, if it would have made things easier on her having someone there, or maybe just given him some semblance of relief as the car slowly drove its way over to her house. The very place he hadn’t stepped foot in since the night of George’s birthday party.

But he hadn’t earnt that reassurance. Felt wrong to bring somebody else along either way. So he was stuck, toying with his phone, hoping or praying that a text wouldn’t come through saying that she’d gone and changed her mind.

It had been just under a week since he’d last seen her. But it felt as though time had dragged out slowly, mocking him or maybe even torturing him for all of his many wrongdoings. 

He fretted over what she might say when she caught sight of him, he himself having only spotted the state he’d worked himself into when he’d been getting ready that morning.

There were heavy bags set beneath his eyes from where he hadn’t really slept and his cheeks were hollowed in that way that they used to revert to when he’d have a particularly hard weekend way back when. If the papers caught wind of him he already knew what the first articles would say, what they would so obviously claim. But he knew the truth, just hoped that she would know it too.

He was startled from his mind at the jerk of the car pulling up onto the nearest curb. His eyes widened in sudden alarm when he realised just what that meant and then caught the look of dismay that crossed the driver’s face when the bloke looked back to announce that they’d arrived. If the man didn’t already think he was on something, then now he definitely did.

Matty swallowed stupidly and then tried for a smile, struggling to undo his seatbelt with the kickstart of shaking that overtook his hands. The driver took pity on him though, turning away to fiddle with something up front that probably didn’t need fiddling with, and finally Matty’s thumb managed to catch the button.

Releasing himself from the confines of the car, he paused just before the door could slam close behind him, handing the man a couple notes in tip, if only to apologise for his edgy behaviour or buy himself a little more time if the driver had somehow managed to suss him out even with his hat, hood and scarf. “Cheers.” He said.

The man blinked at the onslaught of cash and then nodded repeatedly, “Yes, thank you.”

Matty exhaled shakily and then dipped his chin in another goodbye, stepping back onto the curb and watching the cab pull away before he found himself alone once more.

This was it, he supposed.

The street hadn’t changed much in a matter of days but his mind made it seem as though it had. As though suddenly he didn’t belong. The odd man out.

He shoved his hands into the confines of his pockets, pivoting on his heel to face what he’d come here to do. But nothing had prepared him for the way his stomach suddenly bottomed out at the sight of her front door.

The sound of a car horn a way away spooked him, causing him to jump, but did eventually force him forward off the curb and onto the cracked pavement. He stared down at all the dips and curves they had to offer him the entire way up the path until finally, he reached her front steps.

If anyone asked, Matty would tell them it was as though he’d been working on autopilot when he pried the silver knocker up from the wood and let it rap twice. Though that would be an utter lie. His head screamed at him the whole while and his fingers blurred before him when he’d raised them up to grasp at the chilled metal. 

He’d never felt so sick, just standing there, the seconds slowly trickling into minutes, or perhaps even hours. It honestly felt as the day was slowly growing colder the longer that he stood there, staring at a coat of familiar paint, before finally hinges creaked and the door opened, revealing a sight that would’ve surely cured sore eyes, if only it hadn’t gone and broken his heart first.

It wasn’t immediate, the effect the past couple days had had on her. It was more in the way she held herself, the sadness which clung to her every fibre, the way she wouldn’t quite look him in the eye.

She stared, caught in a standstill, and for a long moment did nothing before silently and slowly she withdrew enough to allow him through.

Matty didn’t dare utter a word, let alone breathe. Careful to avoid brushing against her or stepping on her toes as he slowly crossed over the threshold to get in, though the hands he’d hidden in his coat pockets curled into fists to keep himself steady.

The first thing he noted upon first entering was the significant state of the flat, it wasn’t messy or untidy by any means, but looked nothing at all like a house typically inhabited by a child should, or at least a monster as chaotic as he knew Teddy to be. It was almost as though Mouse had been expecting a letting agent to pass through with a couple dozen couples, what with how clean it was. He almost reckoned that if he were to crouch down right there he’d probably be able to make out the seam of his jeans in the reflection of the floors.

“You can just hang your-”

“I know.” Matty whispered, not intentionally meaning to cut her off but unable to help himself anyway. 

It hurt, feeling as though he was just a guest in a place he had practically considered home not too long ago. He coughed lightly and shrugged off his coat to do so anyway, hanging it up where he usually did, something which made him pause for a split second, wondering whether this could possibly be the last time he’d have the privilege of doing so.

“Right.” Mouse murmured somewhere behind him, snapping Matty out of his thoughts. She stepped on by him just after, eyes trained on the end of the hallway until they reached the living room, “Erm, I’m just starting on a brew. You can wait here if you want.”

He wanted to follow after her, to fall down onto his knees and fucking sob there at her feet, but he was scared he’d dirty her floors or more than likely end up looking like a total knob. He would. Fucking felt like one just from thinking it. So he did as instructed, moving towards the sofa, taking note of everything and anything the room had to offer him. 

Matty’s eyes flickered over to the kitchen doorway when he realised she’d stopped there, fiddling with her nails before she caught him looking and dropped her hands. “Just realised I didn’t ask if you wanted anything.”

God, it was so fucking strained.

He took a short breath in and attempted to smile, “Tea sounds good.” Was all that he said, and watched on as her brow wrinkled, head tilting with it.

“Uh, I still have that coffee you like. The one you brought over, if you’d prefer.” She told him and he recognised her confusion for what it was, or maybe it was just her weariness over letting him know that his stuff was still where he’d left it. Or, maybe, just fucking maybe he was reading way too much into everything.

“Tea’s good.” Matty murmured, feeling a little less tense now that he knew that she was sort of sitting in the same boat. “But thanks.”

Her chest rose and fell with her next breath and he watched her nod with difficulty at him, still not meeting his eye. “Right, just be a sec then.”

She disappeared past the door with that, whilst he simply stood and listened to the run of the tap and then the flick of the kettle, feeling stupid for having missed something he hadn’t even realised he’d taken note of before. 

But that was just typical, wasn’t it? To miss something so mundane now that it was no longer expected.

Once he heard the clink of mugs Matty allowed his gaze to roam, trailing over the bundle of neatly folded throws settled on the wicker basket by the sofa, ones he knew that if Teddy was here would still be scattered all over the floor before the tv. 

There were a couple of coasters laid out on the coffee table, though the fruit bowl had since been removed, something he knew Mouse did whenever there were only a few pieces left or none at all. There would probably be grapes or something of the sort in the fridge though.

She had a couple of receipts left out on the shelf below the mirror she’d hung up on the wall when she’d first moved in, and the picture frames beside them were still the same. Only one was missing, and he knew which. 

He noticed that the candles over by the lamp were new though, expensive if he remembered rightly because he was sure that he’d spotted them round someone else’s place recently. He wondered briefly over who could’ve gifted them to her, knowing that she much preferred her usual scents, only ever splurging on the larger Yankee Candle jars they had to offer in the local Debenhams.

He found himself smiling at the thought.

It was then that she shuffled back into the room though, stalling his observations. She carried two mugs in her hand and a small plate loaded with biscuits on her forearm. Immediately Matty moved to help her, taking the plate from her even with knowing that she had it handled.

“I could’ve managed.” She murmured, though not unkindly, and then thanked him quietly once she’d gone and placed the mugs down. 

Matty followed her lead, settling the biscuits near the edge of the coffee table, between the two coasters, before fumbling for a second over where to sit. Squeaks seemed to take to one end of the settee so Matty perched on the other, though closer to the middle crease than the arm.

“You got hobnobs?” Matty finally asked, breaking the silence again, eyes flicking over to the plate he’d just held before shooting back over to find her.

She blushed faintly at his comment, then shrugged. “You like them, don’t you?”

Matty scoffed lightly, a soft smile limning his lips, “Yeah, but you hate them. Once claimed that they were like digestives only after being shat out.”

She wrinkled her nose at that, though Matty was quite sure he could spot the mirth that flickered across her face. “Want them or not?”

Rolling his eyes in fond exasperation and knowing not to push it, he picked one up and settled in a little more comfortably into the sofa cushions.

The silence would’ve been almost unbearable if she hadn’t had the foresight to have turned the tv on low before he’d arrived. So whilst a documentary played on one of the many BBC channels, Matty struggled with himself to find the best thing to say. Though he needn’t have bothered, she was always one step ahead.

“So, I think I should start by saying that I um, I know I held a lot of expectations.” 

Almost simultaneously, Matty frowned.

She just wrung her hands together once before thinking better of it and laying them flat in her lap. Matty merely wished to reach out and take them in his own. “And I get that it must’ve been a struggle for you, to basically go from like one end of a scale and then jump right off the other side. But, I-”

“What are you on about?” Matty interrupted, unable to help himself in truth, so beyond baffled by the sudden speech she’d started. She stopped and blinked over at him, finally looking him in the eye. At last.

“What do you mean?” She retorted with a pinch between her brows, “Listen, I planned this all out, alright? So can I just get out what I want to say?”

Matty stared, then forced out a breath of air. “Squeaks,” She shuttered at the name, closing off slightly, enough so that Matty took quick note and wished he hadn’t said a thing, but yet, he still carried on. Desperate to save any blundered attempt he’d make. “Look, this weren’t on you. None of it was, okay?”

Her eyes trailed back over towards him at that, though her expression was almost unreadable. Matty struggled with that bit the most, he’d always been able to read her for the most part.

“So, this crap about expectations and me struggling with whatever idea you’ve made up in your mind is stupid.” Her eyes narrowed then and he watched her work her jaw, obviously none too happy about his retort. He withheld a heavy sigh, “I’m not- Look, I’m not trying to be difficult I’m just saying that- What I’m trying to say is, that every relationship has goals or expectations, that’s normal. But nothing you ever did forced me do what I did. That shit? It was all on me. It was me being insecure and scared, yeah? So, don’t go trying to excuse it. Because I’ve had people do that for me for far too fucking long now and hearing it come from you...” 

He sort of felt himself slump at that, a little bitter and resentful over the fact that she’d since come to think of it that way. As though his mistakes were all just down to her and her inability to do right by him. He realised though, belatedly, that if anyone else had done exactly that, or even attempted to, in any other scenario he just might have taken up the offer and ran with it. But this was her, this was Squeaks. 

She was quiet for a time, then she picked up her mug, eyes trained on the movement of it before, “What then?” 

“What?” Matty frowned once more, shuffling forward in his seat in an attempt to catch her eye again.

“Why did you do it then? Why’d you lie, why didn’t you tell me about Teddy?”

That knot he’d been feeling for weeks now. The one at the very end of his tongue, all tied and tangled in the back of his throat, suddenly shrivelled up and slackened, leaving a bitter aftertaste and a plethora of guilt behind.

Matty’s gaze wandered over to the window, to where Teddy’s guitar sat in its stand just before a heavy set of grey curtains. He withheld the urge to pick at his nails as he searched for the right words to give her, wanting so honestly to tell her the truth, to give her a play by play of what had happened in detail, as well as every thought that had gone through his mind. 

“It wasn’t what it looked like for a start.”

Mouse scoffed a little at that, and Matty couldn’t be mad at it. If he was sat on the other end of this he’d been doing more than just that, he’d be up in arms, tossing shit about and raving to all who would listen.

Still, his eyes trailed down to where his hands now laid in his lap and he pressed his thumb to his palm. “We were on the highstreet, on the way back here.” He started, voice quiet as his stare tracked the faint lines of his hand, “The guy you saw in the pictures came out of nowhere really. Me and Teds had just been at that ice cream shop a way down, I didn’t even spot him until he was there, in my face.”

Matty wet his lower lip, mouth suddenly going dry. Mouse just waited.

“Teddy was quick to hide behind me, you know? The loudmouth didn’t even really notice him until the last minute. But you have to know, all I wanted was to get him out of there. To avoid staying too long and attracting the wrong sort of attention. Okay? So I’d said I had to get going as soon as he'd spoken, told him I didn’t have time to stay and chat.” 

He took a quick breath with that, eyes still centred on the deepest groove of his palm. “But then he, then he brought up Luke. Said something about the funeral he didn't go to and wanting to celebrate his life.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Squeaks’s hands still from their previous bout of fidgeting. “But I told him I was clean. He didn’t believe me at first, which,” Matty huffed out a self-deprecating laugh, “Well, I can’t blame him for that, what with my track record.”

He heard her inhale then and looked up, it seemed as though she was going to say something but thought better. So Matty bit down on the insides of his cheeks to keep from asking before he exhaled slowly, digging a nail into that groove.

“He got a bit aggy, started calling me a toff and whatnot, because I 'spose I was just a rich boy who bought him a couple grams of coke every now and then.” He clucked his tongue thinking about it, but eventually shrugged. “Then I don’t know, he must’ve looked down or something ‘cause that’s when he,” Matty paused and his gaze shot over to her, then away again, “That’s when he spotted Teddy.”

Mouse wrinkled her mouth, then tried to nod, obviously wanting him to continue. Though she kept her eyes trained on the rim of her mug.

“That’s when he said some shit and I reacted.”

“Said what?”

Matty startled a little at the sound of her question but was hasty in his attempt to answer. “Just, he reckoned that Teddy was mine and that I had to have knocked someone up. So now they were just using me for the money.”

Her eyes slipped closed and her fingers tightened their grip on her cup.

Swallowing thickly, Matty went to continue, “I shoved him and told him to do one- that’s what they caught in those photos. I didn't take anything he offered, I didn't even look back after. Just walked away, thinking of Teddy, trying to get him out of there. The bloke, he kept on shouting, saying some crap about this and that. But I carried on walking.”

Matty was proud of that fact, even with everything that had happened since. Not too long ago, a different version of him would have handled it all too severely. It was a step, a tiny one, sure, but it was progress.

“Then what?” Mouse voiced, prompting him along with just a look.

“Then we walked home.” Matty replied, feeling that familiar cloud of shame dawn over him. “We didn’t really speak, I- I was a bit of a mess, trying to figure out what to do next, what to tell Teddy, to say to make it right again. But Teds, he,” Matty hauled in his next breath, all too fucking close to bawling, that he could admit. “He called for me and I looked down at him. All I could say was sorry, Mouse.”

She nodded tightly, the knuckles she had wrapped around her tea cup had whitened.

“He,” Matty felt the corners of his mouth lift as he remembered the bittersweet memory of Teddy trying to soothe him, “He told me it was alright, that we were okay, but I just kept on saying sorry. He said that the bloke was just a bad man, and I assured him of that. Wanting him to know that we were okay, that the guy was long gone. But then he-”

Matty stopped altogether then, a picture of Teddy's little face coming to the forefront of his mind, and Squeaks immediately took note.

“Then what?”

Her eyes were so full of emotion, but which ones he wasn’t too sure. Still, the sight tightened every muscle in his chest as he forced himself to finish what he’d started. “He said we couldn’t tell you.”

Matty knew he couldn’t have imagined the sharp inhale that sounded from her then, as though she'd just received a blow to the chest. And he so desperately wanted to reach out, to wrap her up and just fucking hold her. But he couldn't. It wasn't his place.

He watched on as she licked at her top lip though, blinking back the wetness that shone in her eyes, “Why?” Her voice cracked on the question but she did not cry.

It was a simple answer. “He didn’t want to hurt you.”

Mouse stood then, placing the cup down with some force before she hastily made her way over to the front window. Matty stayed seated, unsure if he’d be welcome near her.

“It fucking broke me, Squeaks.” He admitted after a moment, his lips now tingled with the sheer amount of effort it took for him to not let his emotions get the better of him. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“You should have told me.” Was her reply, sharp and cutting, enough that it fucking wounded. Because Matty knew that she was right.

“I know.” He answered.

“You should have fucking told me, Matty!” She repeated, turning then to face him. He saw the tremble of her shoulders, the curve of her mouth and how it quaked. He stared, couldn't bring himself to look away.

“I know.”

He swallowed, throat almost aching as much as the hole that made up the majority of his chest. 

"Why didn't you tell me?"

“I don't know.” He murmured, mostly to himself.

#the 1975 #fic #matty healy #angst #radio host #reader #x reader #x you #george daniel #ross macdonald #the 1975 band #adam hann #fluff #humour #smut #matty healy fic #matty 1975 #matty healy x reader #matty x reader #matty healy x you #ao3 #fame #strangers to lovers #mum reader #kid fic #getting together #SLOWBURN #mutual pining #Warnings #aipoban

[nayziiz]

Lost & Found | OP81

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x OC (Genevieve)

Author's note: I'm trying something a little bit different with shorter form fics, so please send through any requests or feedback. These one shots will likely not have a second part unless it really speaks to me to continue with it. Thank you!

Masterlist

As Oscar approached the sleek, modern apartment building in the heart of Monaco, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement mixed with a hint of uncertainty. The Mediterranean breeze brushed against his skin, carrying with it the promise of a memorable evening with his teammate, Lando.

However, as he reached the entrance, Oscar's anticipation wavered when he checked his phone and noticed the lack of response from Lando. Perhaps he got caught up in something, he thought, brushing off the initial sense of disappointment. Determined to salvage the evening, Oscar decided to take matters into his own hands and head straight up to Lando's apartment.

As he stepped into the building's lavish lobby, Oscar's mind raced, trying to recall the apartment number that Lando had mentioned in passing. Was it 402 or 204? He cursed himself for not paying closer attention during their previous conversations. Nevertheless, he pressed on, hoping his memory wouldn't fail him now.

The elevator ride felt interminable as Oscar anxiously tapped his foot, mentally rehearsing different scenarios for the evening. Finally, the doors slid open, revealing a corridor adorned with elegant artwork and polished marble floors. With each step, Oscar's heartbeat quickened, the anticipation mingling with a growing sense of trepidation.

Stopping in front of a row of identical doors, Oscar hesitated. Should he knock on each one until he found Lando's apartment, risking embarrassment and awkward encounters with strangers? Or should he retreat and wait for Lando to respond, clinging to the hope that their plans weren't entirely dashed?

In the end, Oscar decided to trust his instincts and rely on his memory, however flawed it might be. Taking a deep breath, he approached the nearest door and tentatively pressed the doorbell, steeling himself for whatever lay on the other side.

Relief flooded through Oscar as the door opened to reveal a friendly young woman. Her warm smile offered reassurance amidst his uncertainty.

“Hi, I'm looking for Lando?” Oscar ventured, his Australian accent lending a casual tone to his inquiry.

“Norris?” the woman asked, her eyes bright with recognition.

“Uh, yeah,” Oscar confirmed, his spirits lifting at the mention of his friend's name.

“He's in the apartment next door,” the woman informed him, her tone friendly and accommodating.

“Oh, my apologies,” Oscar replied, feeling a mix of embarrassment and gratitude for her help.

“That's quite alright,” the woman assured him with another smile, her kindness putting him at ease.

As Oscar made his way down the corridor to the correct apartment, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment at his forgetfulness. He couldn't shake the image of the warm and welcoming woman who had graciously pointed him in the right direction, her beauty leaving him momentarily speechless.

With a meek wave of acknowledgment, Oscar continued on his way, determined to focus on the task at hand. Finally reaching Lando's door, he took a deep breath to steady his nerves before knocking.

After a few moments that felt like an eternity, the door swung open, revealing Lando's familiar face. Relief washed over Oscar as he was greeted by his friend's infectious grin.

“Lando!” Oscar exclaimed, a wave of excitement coursing through him.

“Oscar, mate! You made it!” Lando replied enthusiastically, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Yeah, sorry for the delay. Got a bit turned around,” Oscar admitted sheepishly, his earlier embarrassment fading in the warmth of Lando's welcoming embrace. “I couldn’t remember your apartment number.”

“Oh, so you met Genevieve then?” Oscar chuckled sheepishly at Lando's inquiry about the mysterious Genevieve.

“Genevieve?” he echoed, trying to recall the features of the woman who had guided him to the right apartment.

“Curly red hair, beautiful. She waters my plants when I'm gone,” Lando explained, a hint of fondness in his voice.

“Must have been her then,” Oscar replied, mentally replaying their brief encounter and nodding in recognition.

“Did you get her number?” Lando raised an eyebrow teasingly.

“It was literally a five-second interaction, how was I supposed to get her number?” Oscar's cheeks flushed slightly at the suggestion.

As the night unfolded, Oscar found himself swept up in the vibrant energy of Monaco's nightlife. Dinner with friends and fellow drivers was a lively affair, filled with laughter and animated conversation. Then, the pulsating beat of the club beckoned, and Oscar and Lando danced the night away, revelling in the electric atmosphere.

“Fair enough. Nevermind, I'll just send it to you.” Lando chuckled knowingly. “You can text her and apologise for knocking on the wrong door.”

As they made their way back to Lando's apartment in the early hours of the morning, their laughter echoed through the quiet streets of Monaco. Their spirits buoyed by the exhilarating night, they stumbled playfully through the door, their cheeks flushed with the warmth of friendship and a hint of tipsiness.

But their jovial mood faltered slightly as they noticed Genevieve fumbling with her keys at the door of the neighbouring apartment. She looked up, surprised, as the sound of their laughter reached her ears.

"Hey, Genevieve!" Lando called out, his voice slightly slurred with alcohol but filled with genuine warmth.

“Oh, hey there! Looks like you had a good night.” Genevieve turned towards them, a smile spreading across her face as recognition dawned.

“Yeah, it was amazing!” Oscar chimed in, his words slightly exaggerated in his inebriated state.

“Glad to hear it. You guys certainly sound like you had fun,” Genevieve chuckled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “I’m actually glad I caught you. I can't get my door unlocked.”

Lando stepped forward, offering to help. Taking the keys from her, he inserted one into the lock and tried turning it, his brow furrowing in concentration. But to their dismay, the lock remained stubbornly unyielding.

Oscar exchanged a sympathetic smile with Genevieve, their shared amusement at the unexpected turn of events breaking through the tension. Despite the late hour and the lingering effects of the night's revelry, there was a sense of camaraderie in their shared predicament.

As they waited for Lando to work his magic with the stubborn lock, Oscar couldn't help but admire Genevieve. Despite the minor setback, her smile remained bright, her demeanour unfazed by the inconvenience.

“We might have to get maintenance out to help,” Lando suggested, his tone tinged with resignation.

“Let me give it a try,” Oscar offered, eager to lend a hand.

Lando handed Oscar the key, and with a determined expression, Oscar stepped forward. He inserted the key into the lock once more, feeling the resistance as he twisted and turned it, his fingers deftly manoeuvring the stubborn mechanism.

After a few tense seconds of pushing and pulling, a sense of satisfaction washed over Oscar as he felt the lock finally give way under his persistent efforts. With a triumphant click, the door unlocked, swinging open to reveal the comforting familiarity of Genevieve's apartment.

A chorus of cheers erupted from the group as they exchanged relieved glances, the tension of the moment dissipating into shared laughter and camaraderie. Despite the minor setback, there was a sense of accomplishment in their success, a testament to their resourcefulness and teamwork.

“Nice work, Oscar!” Lando exclaimed, clapping his friend on the back with a grin of appreciation. Oscar grinned back, feeling a swell of pride at the successful resolution of their predicament.

“Thank you so much! Both of you,” Genevieve expressed her gratitude with a warm smile, her eyes reflecting genuine appreciation.

“No problem,” Oscar replied with a polite nod, returning her smile.

“Oh, Genevieve, this is Oscar. He's my teammate.” Lando seized the opportunity to make introductions.

“Hi, Oscar,” Genevieve greeted him warmly, extending her hand in a friendly gesture.

“Hey, nice to meet you,” Oscar responded, shaking her hand with a friendly smile.

Before any further pleasantries could be exchanged, Lando interrupted with an urgent declaration. “Flip, I need the bathroom.”

With a hurried apology, Lando dashed away, disappearing into his apartment in search of relief. Left in the hallway with Genevieve, Oscar couldn't help but chuckle at his friend's sudden departure.

“Well, it seems Lando's in a bit of a rush,” he remarked, a wry smile playing on his lips.

"If you're not in a rush, can I offer you some coffee for your trouble?" Genevieve offered, her hospitality extending beyond mere gratitude.

"Sure, that'd be lovely," Oscar replied, touched by her kindness.

With a grateful nod, Genevieve gestured for Oscar to follow her into her apartment. As she shut the door behind them, a sense of warmth and comfort enveloped them, the cosy atmosphere a welcome contrast to the cool night air outside.

Oscar took in his surroundings with curiosity, noting the tasteful décor and inviting ambiance of Genevieve's living space. The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, adding to the sense of cosiness and hospitality.

Settling into a comfortable chair, Oscar couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected turn of events. What had started as a simple visit to Monaco had evolved into a night filled with laughter, friendship, and unexpected connections.

As Genevieve busied herself in the kitchen, preparing coffee with practised ease, Oscar reflected on the serendipity of their encounter. Despite the minor hiccup with the door, it seemed that fate had intervened to bring them together, weaving a tapestry of shared experiences and newfound connections.

As the hours slipped away, Oscar and Genevieve found themselves immersed in conversation, their words flowing effortlessly as they explored a myriad of topics. From lighthearted anecdotes to deeper reflections, they shared stories and insights, each moment deepening the bond between them.

As the night wore on, the gentle rhythm of their conversation slowed, the weight of exhaustion settling over them like a comforting blanket. Genevieve's head gradually dropped, coming to rest on Oscar's shoulder as her breathing softened into the steady cadence of sleep.

Feeling the weight of her head against him, Oscar couldn't help but smile, touched by the intimacy of the moment. With a sense of tenderness, he shifted slightly, adjusting his position to provide her with greater comfort.

And as the quiet of the night enveloped them, Oscar too felt the pull of sleep tugging at his consciousness. The warmth of Genevieve's presence beside him was comforting, her steady breathing lulling him into a state of peaceful relaxation.

Eventually, fatigue won out, and Oscar closed his eyes, allowing himself to succumb to the embrace of sleep. Wrapped in the tranquillity of the moment, he drifted off, the gentle rise and fall of Genevieve's breathing serving as a soothing lullaby, carrying him into the realm of dreams.

As Oscar returned to Lando's apartment the following morning, a buoyant energy infused his every step, his heart light with the joy of newfound connection and unexpected camaraderie. Despite the early hour, his spirit soared with the exuberance of a schoolboy, his thoughts abuzz with the memories of the night before.

Entering the apartment with a spring in his step, Oscar greeted Lando with a wide grin, unable to contain his excitement.

“Mate, you won't believe the night I had!” He exclaimed, his words tumbling out in a rush of enthusiasm. Lando raised an eyebrow, a bemused smile playing on his lips as he took in Oscar's giddy demeanour.

“Sounds like you had quite the adventure,” he remarked, his tone tinged with amusement.

“Oh, it was more than an adventure, Lando. It was... it was magical,” Oscar gushed, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

As he regaled Lando with tales of his night spent chatting with Genevieve, their conversation stretching into the early hours of the morning, Oscar couldn't help but relive the moments of connection that had made the night so special.

“So, what are you going to do now?” Lando's question hung in the air, prompting Oscar to pause and consider his response. With a determined smile, he met his friend's gaze, his excitement palpable.

“I'm going to take her on a date,” he declared, his voice brimming with certainty. “And when I get back to the UK, I'm going to start packing my stuff to move to Monaco, because she's just incredible.”

The words spilled forth with a sense of conviction that left no room for doubt. In Genevieve, Oscar had found something special – a connection that transcended mere friendship, igniting a spark of possibility that filled him with renewed purpose and excitement.

As he contemplated the future that lay ahead, Oscar couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation for the adventures that awaited him in Monaco. With Genevieve by his side, the possibilities seemed endless, each moment brimming with the promise of new experiences and shared dreams.

And as he shared his plans with Lando, the support and encouragement in his friend's eyes only served to bolster his resolve. With a grateful nod, Oscar knew that the journey ahead would be filled with challenges and uncertainties, but he also knew that he was ready to embrace them, fueled by the fire of newfound love and the boundless potential of the future.

“I knew you'd like her,” Lando teased, his tone playful. “I did give you her apartment number to begin with anyway.”

Oscar couldn't help but chuckle at Lando's teasing remark, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.

“I owe you big time for that,” he replied with a grin, his admiration for Lando's intuition evident in his words.

#oscar piastri #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #mclaren #mclaren f1 #f1 x reader #f1 #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri x female reader #op81 imagine #op81 x reader #op81 #op81 fic

[bucketofchum]

Helluva boss. Stella specifically

LOL I have never seen StellaxStella selfcest but that sort of makes me laugh

Reminds me a little of this song:

https://youtu.be/2ylhRh7GFWQ

#i absolutely love this song for a Stella selfcest #like it's SO fitting #thank you for putting this image in my head #if i have the energy I will draw it #anon

[snarkspawn]

KP Meme of the Week

Kitchen: *on fire*

Ken: THE KITCHEN IS ON FIRE!

Pete: Here! I got a bucket of water!

Ken: Gimme! *takes the bucket of water then splashes it onto Big, who is sleeping* WAKE UP, THE KITCHEN IS ON FIRE!

Yeah ok Ken "somehow the kitchen is on fire" Kinnporsche, we all know it was you who started it lmao

Also, I want him to fireman carry (a completely soaked, angrily protesting) Big out of there while everything goes up in flames behind them

[cool guys don't look at explosions is playing in the distance]

#ken: you can thank me later #and big does. by punching him in the face probably #but it's ok he can kiss it better later #kenbig #kinnporsche #kinnporsche the series #kinnporsche fanart #big kinnporsche #ken kinnporsche #userpharawee #bl tag #replies #anon #thank you for putting this mental image in my head on a sunday morning anon lmao much appreciated

[lunarharp]

figured i'd do this again..bit early i guess..

#to cheer me up.. i feel bad atm.. these things don't even make me feel very good tho bc i'm such a narrative/sketch-based artist.. #but Proper Beautiful Finished Pieces are what grab attention and look good at the end of the year all neatly lined up lol..... #so looking at a “yearly review” where i can only choose 'the best image of the month' (??) is like...What have i even been doing... #i did a month by month look back on twt for myself instead..but even that doesn't express the quantity of comic-based stuff.. #that i do put a lot of time/heart into..but alas i feel bad bringing even them back..RTing/reblogging my own art simply feels bad lol.. #AND WHY IS IT ALL B&W...trying to accept that i LIKE doing that and sketching and scribbling..not like i'm trying to like..Get Artist Job.. #this year was so profoundly lonely at times bc i spent all my time drawing instead of socialising and trying to find friends.... #please please please have achieved more of your dreams in the future so you can look back at 2023 and think.. #It was good that happened so that it got me further to the future. Or whatever i guess..................... #regardless i did have a great amount of fun drawing and improving this year and dwelling deeply & heavily on witch hat atelier. #art-wise and emotionally....march july & september were the best months i think..AUGUST WAS SO WEIRD SUMMER IS SO EVIL ALWAYS. #thank you very much if you are reading this for enjoying & leaving nice tags & such like <3 i've realised how fulfilling that is to receive #really keeps me posting stuff here instead of keeping it all to myself in my head #i wish everyone in this world could have a safe and happy end of year. i wish living in this world were easier

[sword-swallower-pin]

John will be the most complicated to cast because his look was anachronistic even for his era imo. He had a face that'd be in coins or statues at some point in history. It's a shame he didn't care for acting because he would've fantastic in period pieces.

John's got that napoleonic war face, the only appropriate course of action for the casting team is to steal a painting from the National Gallery and have some scouse lad stand behind it to read his lines

#the idea of john doing period films has put a lovely image in my head of him all dolled up in full rococo stylings thank you very much #get that boy some floral patterned breeches! #john lennon #asks

[cheeriecherrymain]

i had to draw TA!Viktor

#i know i have a series ongoing rn but #im thirsty #so im gonna write ta!viktor fic #and no one can stop me #those who have put the seed in my head tho #i thank you for it #inspo has struck and im excited #viktor x reader #cherry doodles #besweatered men encompass all of my needs #also dont come for my math i was only referencing a stonk image

[maybe-drawing]

Boatem, where the mountains meet the sea

Inspired by @atherix​ Midnight Series

-- Click for better quality! --

#Freddy Draws #midnight series #hermicraft au #travel poster #no sketch for this one bc the sketch is horrid #its so bad yall #also hi atherix if you are reading this ahhhhhh your comments are too kind I am living for the reblogs you are so nice hello thank you???? #the bottom part is supposed to be water idk how well that translates tbh #it was fun tho :D #I love this version of boatem #the way it is described puts such a vivid image in my #head like I have a version that i cannot seem to capture in art but this is pretty close #however since EVERYTHING in this series is written so ahhhhh GOOD its so descriptive #hello thats some skillful writing right there like holy s-

[piconoodle]

messy animation practice GO

#ultrakill #v1 ultrakill #i love MOVEMENT #thank you loversgothic for putting images in my head #bodies in motion. dance. makes me insane #this choreography holds a very special place in my heart #time to be insane #leg draws #leg animates

[mischefous]

👆this is me when i see ur art

HJKAKFKEKKAKEHFJK this lowkey jumpscared me XD, just me scrolling through my asks and BOO! SKELETON WITH BULGING EYES

on the other hand, this is me seeing all the lovely kind words about my art, it brings happy tears to my eyes. THANK YOU EVERYONE!!! I LOVE YOU ⋆⭒˚.⋆💙

#also guys ive already got a ton of awesome requests #keep em coming! #i ofc wont be able to get them all done #but i am tryna get most done. im very slow with each one because im taking my time and enjoying drawing these #if i rush then i wont be enjoying it as much and ill burn out quicker #and if i dont get to yours at this point in time #i will come back to them later #but thank you to everyone who has sent me a request! #ALSO ALMOST FORGOR #some requests i just dont get a clear picture in my head for. but dont take it to heart if i never get around to your request #i usually have a faint image in my head that i try to replicate #i still really appreciate the time you took to put in a request💙 #yall should see my pen XD its literally being held together with tape #might go grab a new one on the weekend. ive been putting it off bc its really expensive to replace #its been taped up since last year XD

[gojoest]

satoru in grey sweatpants. send tweet.

omg yes YES it slaps against his leg and they dangle so freely

#[ ai—mail ] #I WILL DIE #thank you for putting this image in my head @_@

[au-sonic-smackdown]

if I had enough skill and time I would draw a huge spiderman pointing thing.

I will simply beam this into your mind tho

🫵

So many Sonic's pointing at each other....

#asks #thank you for putting this image into my head

[bumblingbabooshka]

Are T’Pel and T’Pela ok with Tuvok smooching all these other people on voyager?? Is he hurting his two beautiful wives???? I simply MUST know, for my own mental peace

His two beautiful wives are taking inspiration.

#ppl who see this and aren't caught up to the internal split reality T'Pel based lore of this blog HEHEHEH #Tuvok/T'Pel #people who look pissed but they're just thinking really hard...so valid #Janeway's gonna get a knock on her door ...HELL of a house call #Tuvok: -killing himself mentally over even thinking about being disloyal to T'Pel[a]- #T'Pel[a]: Husband the imagined versions of us inside your head are kind to you - correct?? #This reminds me of a thing I have on my 'to draw' list which is just Tuvok saying to some other crew member: #'You seem to believe I am far more fascinated with pegging than I actually am.' #st voyager #Tuvok #T'Pel #bee doodles #Q&A #im-making-an-effort #Thank you and I hope this puts your mind at ease~!!! It is not doing the same for Tuvok's HEHEHE #Janeway's gonna be like WHAT kind of image do your wives have of me?? <- unaware of her vibes

[residentmiddlechild]

Pull the plug in September I don't wanna die in June I’d like to start planning my funeral I've got work to do, mmm

Pull the plug, make it painless I don't want a violent end

Don’t say that you'll always love me 'Cause you know I'd bleed myself dry for you Over and over again

Doomsday is close at hand I'll book the marching band To play as you speak

I'll feel like throwin' up You'll sit and stare Like a goddamn machine

I’d like to plan out my part in this But you’re such a narcissist You'll probably do it next week I don’t get a choice in the matter Why would I? It's only the death of me Only the death of me

Pull the plug, but be carеful I don't wanna die too soon I think there's good in you somewhere I’ll hang on 'til the chaos is through

Doomsday is close at hand I'll book the marching band To play as you speak

I'll feel like throwin' up You'll sit and stare Like a goddamn machine

The death of me was so quiet No friends and family allowed Only my murderer, you, and the priest Who told you to go to Hell

And the funny thing is I would've married you If you'd have stuck around

Doomsday is close at hand I booked the marching band To play as you speak

I feel like throwin' up You sit and stare Like a goddamn machine

I'd have liked to plan out my part in this But you're such a narcissist That you did it on Halloween I had no choice in the matter Why would I? It's only the death of me

______________________________________________________________

Padme Amidala - Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith Song: Doomsday by Lizzy McAlpine

#sorry for the bad gifs but this has been stuck in my head for ages #doomsday is an anidala song #anidala #doomsday lizzy mcalpine #lizzy mcalpine #star wars edit #swedit #padme amidala #padmeedit #padmeamidalaedit #star wars #star wars gifset #anakin skywalker #darth vader #song lyrics #thank goodness that you can put 30 images in tumblr posts now