#in the musical he kisses her almost unprompted (in the book he had been dropping all sorts of hints and Jo was pretending not to notice but

[sailforvalinor]

The Little Women musical is one of my favorite musicals and Jo is one of my dream roles, but at the same time I can’t forgive it for committing character assassination by making Laurie a weird awkward dork just to give Professor Bhaer a leg up as a love interest

[darkhighness]

Good Omentober Day 6 - The Bentley

Prompt by @disaster-dog

During a getaway in Tadfield, Aziraphale grows enamoured with the way humans spent their summers. Crowley can't trust Aziraphale with the Bentley alone. Bubbles ensue.

When Aziraphale burst through the door holding a bucket and car cleaning surprised, Crowley thought he was seeing red.

“What do you think you’re doing with those?” The demon hissed, making a grab for the cursed tools.

“I’m going to clean our car!” Aziraphale beamed proudly. He carried his trademark grin since he’d walked through the door and was truly excited at the possibility of doing something with Crowley. They had been staying in Tadfield for the week and Aziraphale had watched another couple cleaning their car. It simply looked like so much fun.

“You are not going anywhere near her with this rubbish,” Crowley scolded lowly, “We can miracle away any dirt like we always do.”

“Please Crowley,” Aziraphale pleaded. He could tell it was getting desperate so he had to use the one trick that always persuaded the demon. His puppy-dog eyes.

The demon looked at Aziraphale whose wide eyes were staring at him in some kind of adoration. He wanted to say no but Aziraphale knew exactly how to tug on Crowley’s heartstrings and get him to go alone with any kind of plan.

“You can’t wash a car in a waistcoat though, angel.”

“Oh, I’ll get changed most quickly! You best get changed too, Crowley,” Aziraphale beamed before placing the cleaning supplies down and shifting into the next room.

Crowley was less bothered, quickly miracling up a new ensemble. Crowley was never one to wear shorts but the thought of damp jeans clinging to his legs so here he was in a dorky pair of high-cut, quick dry shorts and a black tank top. His loose curls got pulled back into a half-up style and he made sure to bring a towel into the main room for when they were finished. He hadn’t washed a car himself but if any of the videos he’d seen were a good indication, it would be a messy affair. The demon would be absolutely mortified if anyone saw him like this, but it was for his angel so he’d suffer.

Aziraphale, much less confident in his changing wardrobe settled on something a little more conservative. He managed to muster up a button-down hawaiian style shirt with small books on it, rather obnoxiously paired with a pair of light blue board shorts. He was truly enthused to make use of the limited good weather and would enjoy all the sun he could.

Aziraphale exited the room and Crowley’s jaw immediately dropped. He’d gotten used to seeing the angel in his centuries-dated ensemble and while this was somewhat of a welcome change, it threw the demon off guard entirely, “I like the…colours.”

Aziraphale blushed at the demon’s compliment, “And you look gorgeous as always. I didn’t know you shaved your legs?” He quizzed.

Red couldn’t even begin to describe the colour of Crowley’s face, “I mean, plenty of people do…”

The angel walked over and kissed Crowley’s cheek, “I think it’s cute.”

He grabbed the bucket and headed outside where the Bentley had parked herself perfectly on the grass, almost in anticipation of her bath.

“See Crowley, she’s excited!” Aziraphale gushed.

Crowley went to unfurl the hose from the side of their temporary residence. As he moved closer and began to fill the bucket with water. Aziraphale rather keenly squeezed the soap into the container and watched all the bubbles form, giggling with an almost childish delight.

Content to be getting attention from her parents, the Bentley began to play music, unprompted. Crowley’s embarrassment had almost faded but it all flooded back as ‘Fat Bottomed Girls’ began to blast out of the car’s radio.

The demon just grabbed one of the sponges and began to wash the bonnet of the car in a circular motion. Bubbles began to cover the entire car as Aziraphale joined in. For a while, they were just enjoying the company.

At some point, Aziraphale turned around hastily and his sponge landed firmly in the middle of Crowley’s chest, leaving warm soapy water dripping off him.

“Angel!” Crowley huffed but as he turned around and saw the giant grin on Aziraphale’s face, he couldn’t stay mad, “Oh, is that how we’re playing now?”

The demon leant down to dip his sponge in the water before hurling it in Aziraphale’s direction, landing squarely in the angel’s back.

Aziraphale gasped in shock, taking one of the rags they’d thrown aside to throw towards Crowley.

“Don’t move, angel,” Crowley grinned before reaching into the bucket and scooping a handful of bubbles. He moved closer to Aziraphale and pressed the bubbles onto his partner’s face, making a makeshift bubble beard.

The demon doubled over in laughter watching Aziraphale’s dumbstruck expression.

Azirapahle was hardly about to allow that and returned by taking a handful of bubbles and making a movement towards Crowley’s hair. In his movement, he slipped on the wet grass and began to fall.

Crowley rushed to catch the angel, holding him up from the ground and he just smiled at his angel. Aziraphale, slightly out of breath from the whole affair just let out a small breath and straightened up.

“Bit too old to be having this much fun, don’t you think?” Crowley teased, wiping the remaining bubbles from the angel’s face.

“Never too old. Hasn’t stopped us before, why start now?”

Crowley pulled the angel close to him once again, one hand resting on his waist and the other moving around his shoulder. He slowly pressed their lips together, enjoying the admittedly sloppy but all-the-while perfect point of connection. Aziraphale indulged in the kiss, his movements matching Crowley’s as they became one. After a moment, he slowly pulled away to stare into Aziraphale’s eyes.

“We should do this more often, angel.”

[bqstqnbruin]

I hate it when you stare

Wow here I am with another part, another fic. Ignooooree my typooos. Is this more soft smut? No one told me last time if what I wrote counts so uhhhhhhh

Read the whole series:  I hate the way you talk to me and the way you cut your hair // I hate the way you drive my car // I hate it when you stare // I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind // I hate you so much it makes me sick, it even makes me rhyme // I hate the way you’re always right // I hate it when you lie // I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry // I hate it when you’re not around, and the fact that you didn’t call // But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all

I really do have work to do for my class at 2:30 tomorrow but instead I finished this, so I hope you like this!

_______________________

“How is it bullshit? Everyone can tell that we’re in love with each other.”

“So, what, because other people believe it, that automatically means it’s true?”

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

Evelina was visiting home for the weekend for her mom’s birthday, which meant that you had the apartment to yourself. From Friday after work until Sunday night, you were free to do whatever you wanted by yourself. Or, you thought you were going to be doing whatever you wanted until your boss texted you saying that he wanted your project finished by Monday so you could present it that afternoon. That meant you were posted up on the couch, your hair tied in a bun on top of your head, a mug full of coffee, another of tea, and a cup with water all in front of you, the blanket normally on the back of your couch now draped over your shoulders. It was a full call to the hungover days you had back in undergrad when you woke up late and were struggling to finish the work you had due the next morning.

“It’s me!” you hear a familiar voice call from the door, snapping you out of what might have been the first and only roll you had been on working on the project.

You look up to see Matthew coming over the couch, plastic bags in hand to plop down on the table. “Remind me to change the locks.”

“That would mean you have to get up to let me in, though,” he sends a wink in your direction.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him, even though you felt butterflies throughout your entire body at the sight of him looking so comfortable next to you. It was just because he’s a guy, not because it’s Matthew. You let out a quiet sigh as he fiddles with the remote to your TV. “Who says I wouldn’t leave you in the hallway? Plus, I thought you were supposed to have practice today?” you ask, trying to focus more on your project than on him.

“We’re done, and we don’t have a game for three days for once, so we’re resting up. I figured, why not come see my favorite girl?” he says, resting his hand on your shin once your drape your legs over his lap. 

“Because Taryn is in St. Louis so you settled for me instead?”

He scoffs, slowly running his hand up and down your bare leg while his eyes fixate on the television screen. He had to be able to feel the goosebumps that he was causing with his touch. “Fine, my favorite girl in Calgary unless Taryn is visiting, are you happy?”

“Am I ever happy when I’m around you?” you tease, lifting only your eyes from your screen to look at him. Still staring at the TV, you can see the smile on his face, but it almost looks like his jaw is clenching, like he’s fighting saying something back.

“And how could I not be happy around you when you treat me like that?” Your eyes linger for a second on his smile before scanning the rest of his body. Even under the long-sleeved dry fit shirt he was wearing, you could see the outline of the muscles that graced his abdomen. His arms looked like they were begging to rip the seam of the shirt, and you wanted nothing more than to take it off of him and just let them free. “Do you like what you see, babe?” you hear him say, snapping you out of the thoughts you were convincing yourself meant nothing as he was looking at you out of the corner of his eye. 

“I’m trying to picture you as a more attractive guy,” you lie, “It would be so nice if Elias were here, wouldn’t it?” 

“If you’re implying that you want a threesome, then I don’t think I could do it with a teammate,” he laughs, his fingers tightening around your shin. Would Elias be better than Matthew? Any guy would be better than Matthew, you tell yourself. He’s your best friend, and nothing more. 

“What have I said about being crude?” you ask him, fixating your eyes on the way he’s biting his bottom lip. “I think I’m gonna go get my headphones so I can do this project.” You bolt from the living room to your bedroom, leaving Matthew there by himself while you search for your phone in a panic. 

“Hey, is everything ok?” Evelina says on the other end of the phone call as you try to search for your AirPods in the mess that was your room.

“No, Matthew is here.”

“And that’s bad because?” she asks, drawing out her last word.

Groaning, you drop your phone on your desk, prompting Matthew to call to you asking if you were ok. “I’m fine, don’t worry.” Turning back to Evelina, clearly in a panic that she could hear in your voice, “Matthew is here and I think I’m horny.”

“You’re always horny for him because you’re in love with him.”

“I’m not in love with him and I’m honry because I haven’t been touched by a man in like, three months. It’s starvation.”

You hear her groan on the other end, her parents voices in the background. “Hold on, I need to go into another room,” she says. “Ok, so you really told me two days when you got home that you and Matthew nearly fucked in public  in the liquor store. You have been touched by a man. He was also practically feeling you up at the bar a week ago, might I remind you.” 

“I don’t love him,” you say, unprompted, “And he never even kissed me.”

“Says that hickey that you somehow didn’t notice he gave you?” she says, you turning to your mirror to touch the mark she was talking about. You honestly didn’t know it was there until she said something to you when you walked in the door. “If you don’t love him, why don’t you just tell him to leave?”

“I want company and he’s the only thing I have when you aren’t here. Really, this is all your fault.”

“That was so sweet until you blamed me. If you don’t want him to leave then what’s the problem?”

“Horny,” you say at the same time. “Either do something about it or control yourself, babe, but I’ve gotta go. Miss you, love you,” she says, hanging up when you finally find your AirPods.

Pulling up your playlist so it’s already playing when you get to Matthew, you don’t even look at him as you take your computer back in your lap and throw your legs in his. You can feel his eyes tracing the outline of your body even under the baggy sweatshirt you had on from a college you never went to. 

You had worked for what was probably a solid half hour, Matthew mindlessly rubbing his hand on your leg like he did before, you needing to do everything in your power to stop from thinking about and wanting more. You were interrupted by Matthew reaching over and tugging on the hem of your shorts. “Are you really listening to Christmas music right now?”

“Is it that loud?” you ask, turning the volume down immediately.

“No, I can read your lips. You were mouthing ‘Feliz Navidad,’ and ‘Sleigh Ride.’”

“Oh, then, yes,” your cheeks flushed with embarrassment that you didn’t even realize you were doing that. 

“It’s March, babe.”

“Ok, but Christmas music is fine year round.”

“No?” he questions.

“So I’m going to tell you why you’re wrong,” you start, moving your computer to the table so you don’t drop it, provoking a laugh to escape from his lips, “While I don’t agree with all things in Catholic and the broader Christian doctrine, there are things I can agree with basically because they are up for interpretation, so I interpret them in the way I like. Take, for example, the ninth commandment: love thy neighbor. Some people take it as a literal ‘love thy neighbor’ as in ‘be a good neighbor,’ to the ones who live next door, but I think it’s a matter of caring for those around you, neighbor not being the person immediately next to you wherever you live, but just other people in general.”

“What is your point?” he asks, a devilish grin spread across his face.

“My point is that the Bible, which is the end all be all of Catholic doctrine according to some people, is up for interpretation and people use it the way that benefits them, no matter how wrong they normally are. In Hebrews 13:15, it says, “Through him let us continually offer up a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips that acknowledge his name,” thereby, justifying and promoting listening to Christmas music year round. It praises Jesus, who is one of the persons that make up God, and doing year round is continuous.”

“I don’t think that’s how that works.”

“Hey, if people can be assholes and use a 2,000 year old book to try to wrongly justify their bigotry and homophobia, why can’t I use it to rightly justify my listening to christmas music all year?”

“Are you Catholic?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean I can’t learn about it and keep the things that I like with me. I’m not Jesuit but I follow their ideals like ‘care for the whole person’ and ‘be a man or woman with and for other.’ And Evelina’s parents are very religious, so we kind of put up a front whenever they visit to please them. They still think we go to Mass every Sunday.” 

“Is that why there’s sometimes a crucifix by the door?” he asks, you nodding along. “And that weird Jesus magnet where he has a chefs hat and it says ‘fish and bread are served’ underneath him?”

“Yeah, I think her dad superglued that to the fridge because no matter how many times we’ve tried to get it off it won’t budge. Plus it’s a reference to another Bible passage.” 

“I went to a Catholic high school, remember? I already knew that.” You can’t help but return the smile he was sending your way, this time your eyes flicking down to his lips, you unsure if his were doing the same. You snap out of it, biting your lip and making eye contact with Matthew, both of you breathing slightly unevenly at just thinking about what you could do with each other. Was Evelina right that you two loved each other?

No, she couldn’t be right, because you didn’t love him. You pick your computer back up to get back to work, not saying another word as Matthew turned back to the TV. You hit a deadend, finding yourself back to staring at Matthew’s perfect face while his eyes narrowed and a small smirk formed on his lips at something funny on whatever movie or show he was watching. 

“Ugh, fuck,” you groan, Matthew’s head snapping to your direction as you cover your face with your hands. “I don’t want to do this anymore.” 

He reaches over and pulls your hands from your face, intertwining his fingers in yours. “Take a break, I brought food for us.” 

“You didn’t cook it yourself, did you?” you ask. The last time he had made food for you, you were sick for a week from what you’re sure was food poisoning from something being undercooked.

He laughs, the pad of his thumb rubbing your palms. You could feel your breathing get shallow by this, trying to ignore it while he’s talking to you. “No, I got it from the store down the road, already made. Mac and Cheese!” he says, pulling it out of the bag.

You roll your eyes at his stupidity. “Matthew, we’ve been sitting here for over two hours, why would you leave that on the table instead of in the fridge?”

“It’s still warm!” he argues, opening it, “Oh and it smells so bad.” You burst out laughing as he cringes, closing it immediately. “I’ll order something else.” 

You get up to go throw out the now rancid mac and cheese in the kitchen. “Hey, where do you want to order from?” you hear Matthew call, walking into the kitchen behind you.

The list. 

It’s on the fridge.

Practically throwing yourself at it to try to tear it down in time, you rip it off the fridge and fold it up in your hand just in time for Matthew to come in. “Are you ok?” he asks you, noticing your slightly faster breathing and your hands behind your back.

“Yeah, the smell was just bad,” you lie to him, shoving the list in the band of your shorts. “And I was looking at the Jesus magnet.” 

“That thing is so creepy,” he says, both of you looking at it. Knowing Matthew, you try as discreetly as possible to move the paper to your front so he can’t feel it as he inevitably presses his front to your back, his arms draping over your shoulders. Without thinking, you reach up to touch his hands as he rests his head on yours. “It’s way too white to be Jesus.”

His arms move their way down your body, settling around your waist as he starts to nibble at your ear. “God, you are so sexy,” you hear him let out.

“You’re awfully handsy lately, aren’t you Matty?”

“Oh come on,” he says, turning you around to face him, practically pinning you against the fridge, “You know we’re always like this with each other.” 

You smile at him, cupping his face in your hands as you run the pads of your thumbs along his cheeks. “We have a weird...” you start, trying to figure out the right word to describe whatever it was you had with him, “friendship,” you settle on, not exactly liking the word yourself as your tried to hide the cringe you were sure was appearing on your face. 

He swallows hard at that word. Even relationship would have been better, even if it were more broad than ‘friendship.’ At least it wasn’t such a narrow word. It felt like even if you didn’t finish the list you didn’t know he knew about, you would never see him as more than a friend. “Well, that’s what makes it my favorite friendship.” 

The two of you stand there for a minute, holding each other and gazing into the others eyes. You could feel your breathing slow down studying Matthew’s facial features again, thinking only of how perfect they looked to you in that moment. “We should figure out where we’re getting food from,” you say, dragging your hands down his chest before dropping him all together. 

He could have stared at you like that forever. He really couldn’t think of anyone more perfect than you, anyone he would want to look at besides you. “What are you in the mood for?” he asks, moving over to the counter. Opening your fridge, you remember you still have the list folded in the band of your shorts, throwing it in before grabbing some water out. “What did you just throw in there?” Matthew asked you, having watched your every move.

“Uh, Evelina and I have this weird list that we’re putting together, it didn’t feel right to have Jesus looking over it all of a sudden,” you tell him, “But now that you had mac and cheese on my mind, I kind of want that.”

“Oh, no, you’re not changing the subject that easily,” he says, trying to reach around you to open the fridge. 

“No, come on, it’s mostly Evelina’s and I don’t know if she would want you seeing it,” you lie, batting your eyes at him and trying to contort your face to make it look like you would cry if he tried anything else. He couldn’t see the list of things you hate about it. He couldn’t find out about it. 

He sighs, knowing he wasn’t going to win this one. “I ordered you mac and cheese but I’ll pay for it if you tell me the subject of the list?” he tries to bargain. 

“Uh, it’s a list of kinks,” you lie, not knowing what else to say, and usure why that was the first thing that came to mind.

His eyes go wide, pretending to be shocked. It was the list of ten things you hate about him. It had to be. He grins anyway, trying to hide the pain he felt knowing that the list was already started, and probably nearly finished at this point, “Are any of them your kinks?” 

“Yeah,” you start to lie to him again, a grin on your face, “One of them says, ‘When Matthew leaves me alone.’”

He scrunches up his face, pretending to be hurt by your comment as he walks back to your living room. “Oh you know just how to break my heart, pretty girl.” You follow him, plopping down next to him on your couch. 

You pick up your computer, snuggling into his shoulder as he wraps his arm around you. “I have no desire to do this project.” 

“Why don’t we watch something on TV then and you can work again after we eat?” he suggests. You nod, putting the computer back down, surrendering to his pout. You feel him kiss the top of your head, scrolling through the channels. “What about Lilo and Stitch?” he asks when he finds it on one of the channels. 

“Ugh, I love this movie, but the American treatment of Hawaiians is awful, and I just can’t help but think about it every time I watch,” you say, thinking you were being annoying. “Sorry,” you apologize. Evelina was used to your rants, even if you were sure she normally tuned them out. You didn’t think Matthew wanted to listen to another rant from you. 

“Don’t get me started?” he asks, referring to the game you and the guys played at the bar.

“Don’t get me started on the American colonization of Hawaii. The Cookes’ went to Hawaii and pretty much obliterated the royal bloodline. The king of Hawaii had the Cookes build boarding schools for the royal children, with good intentions that they would be able to educate his children on royal customs to effectively rule their land. Instead, the Cookes took the Hawaiian customs and told them they were wrong, imparting their own customs on them, instead. They wanted he land for America, they wanted to eliminate the Hawaiian culture and make them as American as possible,” you say. “The Hawaiian people were a very sex positive people, but oh no, American Catholic education and their ‘no sex is the safest sex’ ideal stopped the children from living the lives they grew up expected to live. If a boy was found in a girls room doing anything in these boarding schools, they would beat the children as punishment, and probably other things that weren't even recorded. There are actually a decent number of Wikipedia pages that have had this information erased, like when you go back into the edit history. The sources, as they claimed, weren’t valid, but in reality they weren’t the Cookes’ American-centric description of these schools. They even went so far as introducing sports into the schools as ‘an antidote to the worst evil of all: sexual promiscuity,’” you comment, drawing a laugh from Matthew. “Because we all know how much athletes hate sex, right?” 

You look up at Matthew, him beaming down at you as Hawaiian Roller Coaster Ride starts ironically playing in the background, “Yeah, we hate that,” he whispers. You swallow hard, trying to ignore any feelings that might be coming up at the sight of Matthew biting his bottom lip. 

“American’s always just insert themselves where they don’t belong,” you finish, settling your head back onto his shoulder as he pulls you closer to him. 

“Why do you know all of this?” he asks.

You shrug, not really sure how to answer, “I don’t know. When I’m doing work I see one word and it sends my mind into this never ending tangent and I end up looking up stuff online and reading for hours.” 

“You really are the smartest person I know,” he says with a sigh, “Why hasn’t Ev told her parents about hiding the Catholic stuff until they come?” 

You shrug, “I don’t know. I never asked, she just told me it was something she needed to do, so I did it with her. That’s her own cross to bear,” you say, taking a minute to realize the really bad pun you just made. “Ah! See what I did there!” you practically yell, Matthew groaning.

“On that note, I think I need to leave,” he jokes, getting up off the couch.

“Oh, come on, no!” you beg, taking him by the hand and trying to drag him back down to the couch. “I don’t want you to leave,” you let out as he pulls you off the couch. 

“Really?” he asks you, sitting back down on the couch, your hands still connected.

Standing over him you nod as he pulls you into his lap, straddling him. He pulls you as close to him as you can, your hands wrapped around the back of his neck. Your mind flashes back to the liquor store, the feeling that came over you as he worked his way along your body like you had a feeling he was about to do again. 

“Come on Matthew, you know this isn’t something we do,” you tease, even though you can’t help but look at his lips, the urge to kiss him creeping up on you as you tried desperately to suppress it. If any guy had taken you into his lap like Matthew just did, you would want to do the same thing. You were just desperate for a man, not desperate for Matthew. 

“We can’t do anything?” he teases, going for your neck again. You let out a moan, praying that he doesn’t leave any more marks that you’ll have to cover up later. 

“Wait,” you say to him, pulling him off of you. He looks slightly upset, not sure what to do next. ‘Ah, fuck it,’ you think to yourself, pulling his shirt off over his head, tossing it to the side and returning the favor of the hickey he gave you. You suck on his skin, listening to the moans that escaped from his lips this time, feeling him grow hard the longer you were at it. He clenches his hands on your butt, pulling you even closer to him. You work your way up his neck and to his jaw, his grip getting tighter the closer you were to his lips. You had no idea what was coming over you and causing you to want to do this, but nothing in that moment felt better. Nothing in your life had ever felt better as you kissed his face the way he did to you the other day, hearing him moan more and more with every connection you made. 

Your lips are millimeters from his, both of you practically begging the other for connection when you’re startled by the sound of Matthew’s phone ringing. You both laugh, foreheads pressed together. One more second and it would have happened. “I think that means our food is here.” 

“Perfect fucking timing,” he mutters, not loud enough for you to hear as you get up to go grab the food. He couldn’t believe you just did that. He checks his neck in his phone camera, seeing it littered with the red marks you had left for him. He reaches up to touch them, smiling for some reason. There’s no way this list would work against him, would it? 

You come back, him practically throwing his phone so you don’t see what he’s doing, settling down on the couch with each other eating the food. Your mind starts racing with thoughts about what just happened. There was no way you really wanted that, did you? Well, you wanted a man’s touch, but it didn’t necessarily have to be Matthew. It could be any guy. 

‘I have another thing for the list,’ you text Evelina, your eyes moving between your phone screen and his hands holding his food, careful not to look up at his face.

‘Good, god, what?’

‘I hate the way he stares,’ you send her, finally looking up, not taking your eyes off Matthew as the two of you can’t help but stare at each other.

[raleighcarrera]

#4 for Raleigh and Mc please

4. “are you trying to turn me on right now? because it’s working.”

and someone else also asked for 2. “can you help me with this zipper?”

50 NSFW starters 

in his heyday, he’d stay out partying after an awards show until the sun came up.

now, five years into dating cadence and creeping into his thirties, he’s grown comfortable with the occasional night in, especially if said night in is wrapped in expertly draped maison valentino, expensive fabric hugging each curve exquisitely.

underneath the gown she’s wearing is something even more tempting -- something skimpy from la perla, all the more intriguing to him because he hasn’t seen it yet. he’d only caught a flash of black lace and the bag that was hastily kicked under their bed before cadence’s zipper went up the rest of the way and she was dressed for the show.

he hadn’t thought about it much, during the ceremony. there were other things to focus on, like all the people coming over to their seats to congratulate them on their engagement, and cadence’s three video music awards and the way she thanked him and blew kisses during every single speech, and trying not to make too much noise in the back of the limo on their way home while cadence was kissing his neck and unbuttoning his shirt to walk her fingers over his chest. 

the paparazzi photos from outside their building were sure to be something.

not that it matters, now, with cadence dancing around their apartment on her tip-toes, heels kicked off in the entryway. her voice practically floats back to him where he’s undoing his cufflinks and rolling up the sleeves of his button-down. “babe? did you finish all the pizza rolls?”

“we finished all the pizza rolls,” raleigh corrects, dropping the diamonds that usually adorn his wrists down onto their coffee table to find her in the kitchen. “you should probably just postmate something.”

they’re due for a grocery delivery, but they’re also due for a trip, even though he hasn’t planned anything yet or told cadence he’s been thinking about going somewhere. most likely, he’ll book their flights just as she’s confirmed their order, and whatever perishables she’s picked out will go to waste while they feed each other sliced fruit on some exotic private beach instead.

he can’t wait.

cadence hums while she types out her order on her phone, passing it over to raleigh for him to key in his, too. as soon as her hands are free her arms loop around his waist, and she squishes in as close as she can get with him working to confirm their order, tapping to switch cadence’s black card out for his before thumbing the submit button.

“let’s get you out of that dress,” he says, once he’s done and her phone is tossed carelessly onto the couch. she smiles at him and lets raleigh lead her off to the bedroom, where he sits down on the edge of their bed and watches her lean over her vanity, first pulling off her jewelry, piece by piece.

watching cadence get ready is like art -- he loves seeing it all come together -- but watching her get undressed is even sexier. staring as each item comes off slowly (first her earrings, then her bracelets, then everything but that giant diamond on her left hand) feels like watching a striptease, and he isn’t shy about palming his cock absently from his place on the bed while cadence lets down her hair, the heavy curls swinging against the open back of her dress.

“are you trying to turn me on right now?” raleigh asks finally, when the sway of her hips and the arch of her back seems just a little too deliberately sensual. “because it’s working.”

cadence twists to roll her eyes at him over her shoulder. “shut up. can you come help me with this zipper?”

he stands so quickly the mattress bounces. raleigh’s hands are gentle when they move her hair out of the way, swinging it over her right shoulder so he can press his lips to the left, his hands cradling the tiny, delicate zipper on her back and sliding it all the way down to swell of her ass. 

“raleigh...” she whispers, just as the silk drops to the floor and pools at her feet. his eyes scan the length of her body, taking in what feels like miles of brown skin and black lace. 

it’s probably a good thing he hadn’t seen what she’d bought before she got dressed. he never would have let them go to the show if he had.

“jesus christ.” he knows he doesn’t sound like himself. his voice is hoarse -- surprised. “where the fuck were you hiding this?”

“i just got it yesterday.” those big eyes look up at him from underneath a strip of false eyelashes, her expression no less genuine and shy because of it. “do you like it?”

“fuck yes.” his hips press forward so that she can feel just how much, even through his dress pants. the noise cadence makes -- half surprised and half pleased -- is like music to his ears. “you look amazing.”

and, fortunately for him, there’s not a single reason he needs to keep his hands off of her. he lets his fingers fan out over her hips and squeezes, dragging her in closer.

it’s not that the bed is far, but the vanity bench is right there, so he sits down, his back to the table that’s strewn with her jewelry and makeup. raleigh spreads his legs and makes room for cadence to sit in his lap, which she does, unprompted, perched on his thigh in just her underwear while he sits fully dressed and so hard it’s starting to become bothersome.

he catches her chin between his fingers and pulls her into a kiss that’s too dirty to be sweet, his mouth moving against hers slowly and deeply, until she’s pressing forward for more and whining a little, too.

“go ahead,” raleigh encourages, ducking his head to wander his lips down her throat, into the front of her chest. “you know what i like.” 

cadence gets his dress pants open just enough to pull his cock out. he leans back in time to watch her slip her own fingers into her mouth, the round o of her red-lipsticked lips almost unfairly sexy when it slides over her hand.

the sigh that escapes when she wraps her hand around him is familiar -- routine. but just because they do this often doesn’t make it any less exciting; he wasn’t exactly a man of repeat partners, before her, but cadence somehow manages to make every single fuck feel special and unique in a way that no one else he’s slept with ever could. 

time with her only ever makes him want more. 

broad palms slip around to grab her ass, his fingers working their way under the tight fabric stretched across her to get to her bare skin. 

all the supermodels and politicians’ daughters and audrey-award winning actresses he’s had in his lap can’t hold a candle to her and the way she’s smiling at him while she pumps her hand up and down. 

raleigh hooks a finger in the side of her underwear, doing his best to tug them down without jostling her. “lift up, babe.”

she does, and then it’s easy to pull her in closer, so that they’re grinding against each other, the wet slide of cadence’s cunt exactly what he needs where he’s aching for her, the shape of her body in his hands all the more exciting when he’s using his grip to guide her into the perfect rhythm. 

‘love who i’ll be’ had gone diamond, but this is absolutely his favorite duet of theirs -- she mirrors his movements in a way that’s half killer instinct and half developed familiarity, her hips practiced when they rock against his. 

“raleigh,” cadence gasps, when they both get the angle just right and the head of his cock slips inside, “christ.”

“fuck,” he groans, the slow push forward agonizing, the way she’s squeezing around him so overwhelming it makes his chest tight. 

cadence sinks down carefully, with no regard for his mental sanity. she takes her time bringing their hips flush, undoing the rest of the buttons on his shirt with trembling fingers while she moves. manicured nails scrape along the planes of his chest and dig into his shoulders when she’s fully seated, and raleigh stares at the expression of pleasure contorting her face like he’s trying to memorize it, enraptured by the flush that takes over her cheeks and the way her eyelashes flutter.

something on her vanity rattles when he leans back against the table to watch her; cadence’s bra strap falls to the side and her breasts threaten to spill out against the straining fabric with every movement, the way she’s bouncing in his lap nothing short of hypnotically captivating.

he drags her into a kiss because it feels like it’s been an eternity since they’ve been sharing the same breaths. cadence moans into his mouth sweetly and he echoes her groan; there aren’t words for how good it feels to fuck like this -- slowly and unhurried, each grind of his cock in her dragging deliciously until small sparks of heat trip down his spine and pool low in his stomach.

it’s far and wide his favorite way to end the night.

cadence’s thighs start to shake with the strain of keeping herself up, and he helps her along with his hands on her hips, kissing her through each movement until he can feel her low whines reverberating in the back of his throat, their skin sliding together where she’s starting to sweat and he’s coated in her arousal.

“jesus christ, i love fucking you,” raleigh mutters, when he can’t keep his eyes open any longer, “you’re so fucking perfect.”

her hands cup his face, and cadence smooths her thumbs across the stubbled skin of his jaw and the dips under his eyes. the gesture is so sweet and gentle it’s at odds with the way each torturous circle of her hips is slowly driving him out of his mind. “i love you, raleigh. i love you so -- so -- so much.”

it hits him at the same time his orgasm does: this is his forever, now. this is every award show for the rest of his career. this is every night, maybe, if he plays his cards right. he’ll never have to wonder where he’s going to wind up on a random weekend ever again, because no matter what mess he gets himself into, he’ll be falling asleep next to her.

cadence scratches his chest raw when she comes, her teeth sinking into his bottom lip in a gesture that’s less of a kiss and more a sloppy press of their lips. she’s pulsing around him so tightly that it’s almost overwhelming, and he makes a mess out of her -- out of his own outfit, too, which he’s mostly still wearing, the hastily pulled away fabric unfortunately not off enough to be spared.

the comedown is quiet. cadence nuzzles her face into his neck and he rubs her back, stroking his fingers through her hair. 

she curls up into his lap and he wraps his arms around her and they stay like that until it’s too uncomfortable, but...

by the time they emerge from the shower and get dressed to collect their forgotten food delivery, their burgers and fries are completely cold, the cheese congealed and the buns soggy. they eat standing up in the living room, staring at each other, and though his fries are like cardboard and his milkshake is melted and soupy, it’s still, easily, the best meal he’s ever eaten, if only for the way cadence smiles bashfully at him from behind her own paper straw.

[tiredcowpoke]

TITLE: Wedded Woes [5] PAIRING: Arthur Morgan/Fem!Reader REQUEST: Unprompted. BLURB: Trelawny talked up a big game at a scenic boarding house and, playing some newly weds, you and Arthur are paying the price for it. WARNINGS: Some drunkenness in this one.

Agatha, as it turned out, was a woman of her word.

You just hadn’t been sure just what that was until the following evening, yet with land like she had and how she carried herself, perhaps you should have expected something like this. As more guests arrived, it only seemed like the next step you could only assume. Still, when Trelawny had showed up to inform you both of a little evening party that they were planning on having, you still managed to feel some sense of irritation about it. However, it was a good opportunity, as Trelawny had mentioned, to allow him to dig around in order to get a solid plan of action together after you had told him about the hollow books in the study.

It really was just a matter of making sure they weren’t wondering where he was, but...well, you knew Agatha had hinted that she would make sure this went to plan for her and Arthur in whatever way she took your statement about your “marriage”. It was worth a try, you had to admit, much as you were uncertain about the idea of him digging around on his own but you couldn’t disagree with the worry that they would notice you or Arthur missing for the night.

Which was how you found herself in one of the more expensive outfits in your case, trying not to look as tense as you felt.

With the frustration of the afternoon and getting caught looking around, having to perform in this mockery of a high class party was the last thing you wanted to do for the night. It seemed like Arthur had similar feelings, you could almost feel his frustration and awkwardness coming off him as you both stood side by side, looking out over the party. It was pretty, you had to admit, seeing a couple people drinking and dancing to the music. You hadn’t been expecting anything close to live music and you couldn’t help but wonder, bitterly, who of the locals they weren’t planning on paying for that.

However, your suspicions seemed to be proven right as Agatha had made sure you and Arthur weren’t going to be onlookers the whole night. Feeling her expectation and eyes on you both, you had suggested a dance and that was how you found yourself swaying awkwardly in Arthur’s arms.

“This makin’ me miss Dutch’s gramophone,” he commented after a moment under his breath, causing you to chuckle lightly and glance up from where you were making sure your feet were in the right steps.

“I’m missing a handful of things about camp…” you returned, “Though, hopefully Trelawny comes back with some news so we don’t have to stay here for much longer…”

“Not keen on multiple day cons?” Arthur returned, glancing down at you as you looked up at him with a small scoff.

“This is my first, so I can’t say I’ve been having the best time…”

At least there was dancing at camp, which was at least somewhat familiar during the times you felt inclined to take it up. You had seen the odd party come and go, usually much more lively than the one you found yourself in, but that was expected with a group of outlaws. You had seen Arthur sharing the odd dance, too, but had never worked up the nerve to ask him specifically. What little passing idea you had about that back then, it certainly wasn’t like what you were doing in the moment. Really, this whole venture was the closest you had really been to him in both a social and physical sense now that you were, as of the previous night, sleeping back to back.

In the moment, you took the silence Arthur offered after your statement, looking over his face as he seemed to look around himself for a moment. It was hard not to acknowledge that he was a handsome man, standing as close as you were, the way the light from the house played with the shadows of his face and…

No. No, you weren’t going to follow that thought down. You had to fight against shutting your eyes a moment, your lips pressing into a thin line for a moment before you were letting your eyes wander off to the house itself for a few moments.

“I can damn near feel that woman’s eyes burnin’ holes into the back of my head,” Arthur muttered, causing you to glance back toward him. Didn’t take much to piece together who he was talking about, you had seen Agatha wandering around the party a bit herself. Where that husband of hers went, you weren’t sure, and you also weren’t sure if you liked that fact or not.

“Yeah…” you returned with a small sigh, “I am really sorry about that, if I had known--”

“Ah, stop apologizin’ for that…” Arthur started, meeting your gaze, “You did what ya could to make sure everythin’ didn’t fall apart, she can think what she wants.”

“Well…” you started, an idea forming in your head. You knew what she was looking for out of this whole thing, and you doubted it put no more than some bitterness in her toward Arthur in light of everything but… “I think I know what could get her looking a little less.”

���What’d that be?”

“Make it look like her efforts tonight worked,” you stated, “Y’know, just...dance and talk like we’ve been doing and just...pretend to kiss me. Look like a couple enjoying each other’s company.”

It wasn’t a bad idea from an outside eye but you couldn’t help the hesitancy that sat in your tone, grateful for the gathering darkness to hide the heat you felt in your face. Really, you couldn’t pretend that you really entertained the interest you felt toward him all that deeply in the long run, but asking someone to kiss you, pretend or not, was enough to put a jump to your heart.

“You realize I ain’t ever pretended to kiss anybody, right?” he returned, causing you to shrug.

“I haven’t either,” you returned, “It’s just an idea, don’t think her feeling frustrated at you will do anything in the long run but it might keep her from watching you too closely. I’m not going to force you to do it.”

“I…” he paused, looking over your face a moment, “You really think that’ll work?”

“I can’t say for certain, she’s done nothing but surprise me today.”

You watched his face as he seemed to regard you for a moment, it taking some willpower not to drop your gaze at the turn this conversation had taken. Still, well, it might be enough to give you the space you needed instead of hoping Agatha wasn’t planning on anything else. Arthur tilted his head downwards for a few moments, looking to watch his feet a moment before looking back at you.

“How, uh, how…?”

“I think you just go in like you were going to actually kiss me, then we don’t have to touch lips. At this distance, it’d be hard to tell,” you explained, your voice surprisingly even for the way your gut was twisting.

Did you really have to push this far? Well, he’d asked, but…

“Alright…” he agreed around a short nod. You found your eyebrows raising somewhat, but you found yourself nodding lightly in agreement yourself. Alright, so…

You shut your eyes tilting your head up like you were meeting him for a kiss, and you could only hope between the two of you that it looked convincing enough. Arthur’s hand tightened a bit around your own, pressing himself a little closer before you could feel a steady breath against your lips. It was very strange, even you could feel the awkwardness quickly creeping up on you as you tried to hold the position. It seemed like that was as far as the two of you were going to go.

However, after a few moments, Arthur let out a small sound that was a little close to frustrated. You were expecting him to pull back, getting ready to open your eyes but instead you felt something warm press against your lips, your eyebrows raising slightly in surprise as you realized it was his lips as he pressed a light kiss to your own. You almost found yourself pressing back into it more before rationality seemed to step in, causing you to slip the hand on his shoulder, tapping two fingers twice against his back solidly.

Thankfully, he seemed to catch the signal you had mentioned the day before and pulled back. Immediately, you dropped your gaze to stare at the tip of his shoulder.

“Ah, shit, listen…” he started, making you shake your head with an awkward chuckle.

“Usually when you pretend…”

Guilt was clearly written across his features when you had chanced a look at him, Arthur glancing off toward the house himself. Anything but your face. You let out a sigh, nodding lightly.

“I’m going...I’m going to step away now,” you stated, Arthur releasing his hold at the words, “Well, th-there’s no questioning that, but we can...talk about it later.”

You didn’t really give him much time for a reaction before you were talking off toward the back of the house where the tables had been set up. Much as you preferred to keep a clear head, you found yourself taking up a flute of champagne, wanting at least that before you had to carry on with the party until Trelawny showed back up. It...it was fine. Probably. It was an overstepping, probably meant nothing but…

You didn’t need to overthink it at the moment, sipping on your drink as you looked around for any familiar face, seeing Arthur walk back into the house but you couldn’t bring yourself to follow him at the moment. However, you weren’t expecting a stranger to linger nearby, clearly more intoxicated than you were. This wasn’t some saloon in a town, but it gave you a similar feeling when you knew you would probably have to ask for some space.

The two of you shared some awkward small talk about the party until you felt him grab at your hand, giving you a small smile--supposedly inviting, but you wouldn’t really call it such.

“Why don’t...you give me the honor of dancing with you, miss?”

“Oh...I’m sorry, but I just got done with one…” you returned, pulling your hand from his to be met with a persistent touch.

“It won’t be much trouble…”

“I’m sure, but I don’t think--” you pulled hard against the hold as he had shifted up to grab your elbow, “I don’t think my husband would be too pleased.”

“Oh, you’re married now?” he asked, chuckling like it was some joke.

“I am. I...don’t know if you can see the ring,” you stated, tension starting to leak into your tone as you wished more than anything you could wind back and hit this bastard in the mouth without causing a scene.

“I don’t really care if you are, my dear,” he returned, slurring his words somewhat as he tightened his grip.

You had opened your mouth, quickly losing your composure as you were getting ready to tell him off or go through with the urge to hit him. However, you didn’t really need to, the expression on his face shifting slightly at something over your shoulder.

“Hey!” you flinched slightly at the sharp sound of Arthur’s voice from close behind you, “Hands off, friend, don’t think the lady’s none too interested.”

“Who’re you supposed to be?” the man demanded, loud and insulted while still keeping a hold on your arm but had loosened it somewhat. You took the chance to pull hard, causing him to lose his grip as you stepped back, Arthur coming to stand beside you.

“Her husband,” he stated, “So, believe me, she’s none too interested.”

“Aw...no, no you’re not,” the man stated around a laugh, “No, you’re just not minding your own business. Believe me, the lady and I were doing just fine.”

“You really wanna test me?” Arthur asked, almost in a growl. Instantly, you knew this was escalating, making you reach out toward him.

“T-Tacitus, it’s not worth it,” you stated, glancing toward the man as you tried to keep your own bite back from your voice, “Sir, please, you are drunk.”

“No, no, I’m thinking--” he started, anger raising somewhat in his voice as he stepped toward you.

“What the hell is going on down here?” Gregory demanded as he walked up behind you, Trelawny not too far behind which put some relief in you. Arthur turned to glance toward him, his brow tight. If he was pretending to be your husband, the anger on his face certainly was genuine regardless.

“Nothin’,” he stated, “Just lettin’ our friend here now he shouldn’t be tryin’ to force himself on married women.”

You found yourself taking a step back at that, touching Trelawny’s shoulder as Gregory started demanding to know what was happening.

“I’m going to the room,” you said, Trelawny giving you a small nod and a pat on the hand as he let out a sigh, stepping forward to address the chaos.

It was damn well enough for one night.

[benditlikebedford]

“Isn’t in terrifying that we both couldn’t go without the other? a young Matty?

A/N: This is suuuuuuper long! I know it was supposed to be short but I got so carried away. It’s adorable though, sorry for the wait, I hope you love it!

I had been friends with Matty since we were 13 years old. His mum was on the tv show my mum worked on, so when I was a new student starting at his school, he was a safe friend for me. I sort of clung to that, never having been very outgoing and moving at age 13 didn’t help.

I was there when Matty met Adam, Ross, and George. I was slow at first, but I soon grew as close with them as I was with Matty. My first kiss was with Adam during spin the bottle, and Ross broke the nose of the first boy that ever broke my heart.

I didn’t want any part of the band, not liking the attention, quite opposite Matty, but I was their biggest fan. I was their manager of sorts, as much as a group of teens in their garage needed a manager. I was there for Me and You Versus Them, Forever Enjoying Sex, Talkhouse, The Slowdown and Bigsleep. Currently, we were at the name Drive Like I do, which had been my favourite so far.

“Hey, Maxie, are you gonna go to the show tonight,” Matty asked, walking home with me from school.

“What? No,” I told him, clutching my textbooks tighter to my chest, “We’ve got A-levels in three days. I’ve got to study.”

“God, that’s all you do anymore. Just study,” he groaned, kicking at a rock as he moved down the sidewalk.

“This is our future, Matty. It’s more important than seeing a band you told me last week was shitty,” I scoffed. He spent nearly every night at a show, whether it was in a grungy dive bar or the O2, there was hardly a show he missed these days. I went with him a few times, but on a Tuesday night, with what I thought at the time was the exam that would define me for the rest of my life, I wasn’t interested.

“My future is Drive Like I do. I thought yours was too.”

I could tell by the look in his eye that he was offended by where my priorities were, but did he really think that I could throw away my education for a garage band? Going into music as a career was tough. You could be the most talented person in the world and still not make it if you didn’t have luck. Drive Like I do had talent, and we’d have to wait and see about the luck, but I didn’t have any talent. That was all them.

We didn’t talk for the rest of the walk home. We got to his house first, and his mum waved at me from the door. I gave her a smile and a wave back, but as soon as she wasn’t looking my deep scowl returned. My house was only a few down from Matty’s and when I finally got to my own front door I stormed inside and slammed the door.

I sat upstairs in my room for hours, trying to memorize every word printed in my textbook.

“Maxie? There’s someone at the door for you.” I heard my mother call.

“Tell Matthew to go away. I don’t have time for him,” I shouted back. If he thought he was going to try again to drag me to this show I wasn’t having it.

“It’s not Matthew,” I heard a different voice yell up the stairs.

Groaning, I reluctantly put aside my textbook and walked to the top of the stairs, a little relieved when I saw who was at the bottom.

“Adam,” I sighed, smiling slightly, “Come up.”

Adam followed me into my room, crashing onto my bed and dumping the pile of his own textbooks he had been carrying. We were the only two in our friend group taking Chemistry as an A-level, and all our other friends thought we were crazy for picking such a hard class.

“I’m freaking out about this Chemistry exam,” I told him, joining him on the bed and pulling over my textbook and notebook, which had been covered in scribblings and highlights.

“Yeah, me too,” he said with a laugh, taking my notebook to compare with his.

“I’m guessing you’re not going to the show tonight, then?” I asked him, biting at my thumbnail, wondering if he’d heard about Matty and I’s pathetic fight.

“Yeah, Matty’s pissed, but George and Ross will be there. I don’t know why he always insists on bringing all of us if he’s just gonna spend the whole time looking for a girl to shag.”

I felt my heart drop when he mentioned Matty’s usual activities at shows. Matty and I had been friends for so long, it was crazy for me to think about him in anyway more that just that. Maybe it was the whole feeling about going off to Uni soon, the fear of leaving Wilmslow behind, but I was starting to think of him a different way.

I wasn’t Matty’s type at all. He was a manwhore at times, to be blunt, and while I wasn’t squeaky clean, I wasn’t as sexy as the girls Matty was usually into. I knew I didn’t have a chance with him. Matty saw me as one of the guys and he wasn’t going to change now. He knew me through all my awkward phases so there’s no way he would think of me as an attractive woman.

“Yeah, he’s mad at me too,” was all I said.

We worked through chemistry problems for a while, glad to have each other’s help in solving them. Normally, I was more focused, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Adam’s comment.

“Adam, what do you want to do with your life?” I asked him, breaking the focused silence.

He shrugged, putting aside his book and looking at me.

“You don’t want to do the band?” I asked, and he shrugged again.

“I dunno. I guess it’s just good to have a backup plan. I like chemistry.”

“Yeah, me too,” I lied. I hated chemistry. I only picked it because I was good at it, but it was so boring. And if I pursued a career in Chemistry, the band and I would move separate ways.

It was scary, the thought of losing my only friends, the though of starting over at uni, doing something I didn’t even love. I loved the band, I loved watching them perform, I loved how excited Matty got over even the smallest gigs.

After Adam went home, I still couldn’t focus. All I could think about was the fact that there was probably a girl in Matty’s bed right now, snuck through the door when his parents weren’t looking. Matty’s parents knew about his habits, they’d be blind if they didn’t, but they never did anything about it.

I looked out the window of my room. If I looked close enough, I could see the chimney on Matty’s roof poking through the trees, but only when the sun was shining. It was dark now, but I looked anyway. I was in such a trance, I almost didn’t notice that my phone started ringing. I had begged my parents for my own phone for my room, and I finally wore them down just in time for my 18th birthday.

“Hello?” I asked when I picked up, expecting it to be Adam, asking for something he probably left at my place.

“Maxie? It’s Matty,” the voice on the other side said.

“Oh,” was all I could say. Why was he calling me? Was there no other girl? I wasn’t mad at him anymore, but I hadn’t thought yet about what I was going to say to him.

“I’m sorry for what I said about studying- I- do you think you could help me with maths tomorrow?” he asked me. Matty hardly ever said sorry, especially not unprompted, so I could tell he was genuine.

“Yeah, sure. You can come to my house after school,” I said, sparing him the usual teasing.

As I helped him study the next day, I started to worry for him even more. He really was a lost cause when it came to these things. Somehow he had the ability to be a musical genius and plain dense all at the same time.

But even though trying to teach him in one night what a teacher couldn’t teach him in a year got frustrating, I was having way more fun than I did the night before studying Chemistry with Hann. That’s when I knew that I was only going to be happy if my future was Drive Like I do. Screw Chemistry.

I walked into my Chemistry A-Levels later that week at ease. Adam sat beside me, a nervous wreck, but there were no butterflies in my stomach. I knew what I had to do.

I confidently turned in that exam knowing exactly what type of score I was going to receive for it and I felt all the weight of my studies finally relieved.

“Maxie, what the hell is this?” I heard my father yell two weeks later.

Matty and I were sitting on my bed, him slowly trying to teach me to play guitar, switching roles from earlier when I was teaching maths.

I had completely failed my A-Levels. Every single one.

But I wasn’t upset. Drive Like I do was having a gig soon, thanks to me. I was starting to take my job as a manager seriously.

After getting chewed out by my parents, I returned upstairs to Matty who looked at me with concern.

“What was that?” he asked, and I shrugged.

“Failed my A-Levels.”

Matty’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull as he gaped, “You failed your A-Levels?”

“Yeah, it’s not big deal. Drive Like I do is my future now. I’m not going to Uni without you,” I explained, picking the guitar back up again, slowly plucking the sequence he’d taught me.

“You failed your exams… for the band?” he asked in disbelief.

“Well, for you more than anything,” I admitted, feeling brave after facing my parents, too.

“I only tried to pass mine because I wanted to go with you,” he said, and now it was my turn to be in shock.

“Really?” I asked, and he laughed at me.

“Isn’t it terrifying that we both couldn’t go without the other?” he asked, giving me a signature Matty cheeky grin.

“Super terrifying. I failed chemistry on purpose. So now you’re stuck with me for good, singer boy. You better make it big.”