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yearinreview · 8 years
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heyidkyay · 1 day
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Pause it, play it, pause it, play it | Market girl AU
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Matty x marketseller!reader
Summary: Saturday's are always the same working the stall, until a stranger stops in to disrupt your cassette display...
Authors note: A one shot for you, needed something to help me with a little writer's block so I hope it's alright! Nothing too detailed, mostly just fluff, just saw that middle picture and the idea took root:)
--
“Oi, Rob… You see where I set those new slips I just had?” I called out loudly, riffling my way through the boxes I’d brought over from the van that very same morning. “I swear I left them here in one of these lot.”
Rob seemed to shuffle over towards me at the beckon, peering around the tent whilst I pulled apart one box’s contents. 
I huffed when I heard a familiar crunch and looked over my shoulder to see him stood there munching on an apple. “Nah, babe. Sorry. I can ‘ave a look though if you want, got Nance watchin’ out for me.” ‘Nance’ being Nancy, Rob’s massive Alsatian that had once been his grandad’s guard-dog when he’d manned the stall years back. 
With a soft chuckle I pushed myself up onto my feet once more, tucking my hair behind my ears as I went. 
“Have at, can’t for the life of me find them.” I told him, watching on in growing amusement as he bit down on the green fruit to hold it between his teeth whilst he mooched about the pyramid of cardboard boxes for me, “Sure you’ll still have enough left to sell? Last Saturday you ate your way through six of those, the one before that was the highest yet, at eight.”
Huffing, Rob took another bite of his apple and then shot me a wink. “Keepin’ an eye on me, are you?”
I rolled my eyes as a breathy laugh escaped me, falling against the stall’s main bench so that I could cross my arms over my chest. 
A quick glance at the time told me that we still had a while yet ‘til it hit nine and the market opened properly, letting that first bit of crowd sail in. Though I’d always found it was easier most days to just enjoy the atmosphere that was Portobello, instead of focusing in on the imminent mob.
See, I’d been at the market since I were nine, working the vintage stretch with my mum and aunt, having grown all too fond of the people and their many eccentricities. Rob was of the same cloth, though a tad bit older, just enough that I’d had the fattest crush on him and that East London accent of his as a kid. 
It had faded over time, mind, what with him jetting off a couple years back when he’d been a holiday rep in Ibiza and me realising that I’d wanted to try my luck at art school. Not that either of those things had worked out, which had ultimately led us back here, surprised not to be rid of the other.
He was as close as I could get to a best mate though. Strange yeah, but he was family, wasn’t he? Everyone who worked the market was.
“With an arse like that? Always.” I retorted easily enough to have him laughing along with me and shaking his head at my antics. Something he’d grown all too used to in the recent years since I’d come back and made my mark with a stall of my own.
It wasn’t anything too grand, my stall. Nothing like the tourist trapping shops that sat a little further down, but sweet enough for the likes of me and the massive music collection I managed to drag down here each weekend. Set up was always mad, yes, but with Rob, Nancy and a few other early starters, time slipped away quick enough.
“Here we go then.”
I blinked and looked back over at Rob, who was now beaming brightly at the set of LP slips I’d ordered in special, waving them about in smarmy pride. I swatted his side as I made a grab for the things, only to have him lift them up higher to where I couldn’t reach. 
“Don't be a twat, pass them over. We open in five!”
Rob simply chuckled in retort, taking another chomp out of that apple of his. “A thanks wouldn’t go amiss.”
“Yeah, yeah, I would’ve gotten to it!” I swiftly shot back, jumping up to swipe them from his grasp and grinning in triumph when I managed it. He only laughed, a slight rasp working its way into it like it typically did. “Thanks.” I added after I’d thumbed through the lot, smiling up at him as he made his way to the other side of the tent. 
“Buy me a pint and we’ll call it even, treacle.”
I gave him a roll of my eyes, but agreed without much fuss. “Fine, but just the one, tight arse.”
His hearty chuckle filled the steadily growing street of sellers and I watched on as he stroked Nancy’s collar before settling back in at his own stall which resided by mine.
“Penny’s take care of the pounds, my darlin’.”
I raised a single brow and tucked the slips into one of the closer vinyl cubbies- 70’s Proto-punk wasn’t much of a seller anyway. “You mean, look after the pennies and the pounds will look after themselves.”
Rob clucked his tongue, waving the correction away with the hand that held his apple core, “Alright, smart-arse. You knew what I meant.”
I smirked, tittering quietly to myself whilst he settled his usual bum bag around his hips. It suited him, I thought, the neon green pouch sitting atop that awful red and white apron he’d pinched off the butchers up in Notting Hill when he’d worked there for a weekend. Though I much preferred my own, my nephew having decked it out in all sorts of pins and patches for me a while back now. 
With that Rob and I settled into our own stations, me taking perch on the old wooden stool I’d found in the back of a garden shed, and Rob being his usual loudmouth self, beckoning the arriving customers on closer.  
The crowd grew bigger and bigger the closer it got to ten, lots of people stopped by to have a chat or a look round, a few purchased a couple of bits. It was mainly just the vinyls that sold these days, but I still had posters, cd’s, and even cassettes on show.
It wasn’t usual for the cassettes to get a good look over though, mainly just a ‘Oh! Do you remember them?’ and then a small laugh before people eventually moved on. Which was why I was more than a little surprised to see a figure having a right old rummage through the steady collection I owned, once I’d managed to wrap up another sale. 
Glancing about, I spotted a pair of old birds flirting with Rob by the pears, Nance having gone to settle herself down by my bag in the back to hide from their gentle clucking, and how the crowded mob had thinned out a tad since most people had made their way further down the road’s neck.
I tucked the few notes I held into my pouch and stepped over a tangle of cables to make my way closer to the person, taking in their too big graphic tee and the tight zip up that had been layered over top of it. The nearer I grew the more I spotted though, the slight nod of a head as fingers worked their way deftly through the collection, the array of dark curls that poked their way out of the sides of a worn cap, and then the tiny hoop which dangled from a right earlobe. 
“Looking for something specific?”
The bloke didn’t startle much, there was no real jump at the sound of my voice, only the slight tilt of his head, as though he was used to being caught off guard. I watched him closer after that, noting how his thumb trailed across one of the few Sonic Youth singles I had.
“Their ‘86 album?”
His voice was gentler than I’d first been expecting, rasped with a slight accent I couldn’t quite place. I blinked at his ask, skimming through the catalogue of tapes my mind offered me, which hardly ever seemed to move from their typical place of sorting. 
“Um, top right? Should be one there, got Sister and Goo too, if I’m not wrong. Though the ‘88 album seems to be their most popular- even in cassette form.” I had rambled a tad there, I knew that much, but it was all part of the job to me. Talk and talk until they either fled the scene or decided to buy more than what they’d first come for. “You into cassettes then?”
He gave me a low chuckle and pulled away from the stand slightly, it was then that I caught sight of his face, a tad bit stubbled and lips parted almost in wait. He must’ve been closer to Rob’s age than my own.
I raised a brow when he didn’t offer me an answer, tilting my head in turn. “Or, is it a gift of some sort?” I dragged out.
With a blink, he seemed to stand a little taller and I noticed he only had an inch or two on me.
“Er, no.” He muttered, before mimicking my head’s movement and propping his elbow up on the cassette stand almost as if he was attempting to suss me out. It took a second before he finally flashed me a slow but genuine smile, “Looking for a certain sound. Some tapes sound better than the actual record so I figured here would be my best bet.”
I hummed, crossing one ankle over the other. “The further back you go you can hear it, but most of their stuff's good either way.”
He smirked as he settled in further, looking out at me from under the brim of his cap, “Aren’t you meant to be selling it to me?”
My laughter couldn’t have been helped because he did have a point there, only… “It’s just not everyday that someone pops by to talk about music mediums with me.” I argued, all too pleased when I heard him give another hearty chuckle in reply, “So forgive me for my excitement.”
“Will do.” He simpered, eyes flicking down to where he still held the Evol tape, I reached out to tap its plastic top.
“That one’s known for its ballads, if that’s something you’re into, but,” I practically sang before peering round him to see if I could find the one cassette case I was thinking of, “If you’re wanting a specific sound then A Thousand Leaves is probably worth giving a listen to. Personally I don’t think it got the recognition it deserved, but there was a lot of experimenting whilst also managing not to betray their roots, you know? It’s softer, smoother, and the guitars are almost unmatched.”
When I went to hand it over to him just to have a look at, I found him already watching me with this inscrutable sort of expression. I merely brushed it off, figuring that he’d just leave if he did eventually grow tired of my ranting, then turned slightly when a round of whispers echoed around the tent. It seemed a few younger girls had wandered straight on over to the independent artists section I had placed by the front and were arguing over who got this one Sam Fender album.
I looked away and went to say something else to him, but the way he'd simultaneously moved to angle his back away from the cassette tapes when he too spotted the new arrivals wasn't lost on me. I frowned a tad, though chose not to comment on it. “So, what sort of sound are you searching for anyway?”
His gaze skittered away from the tapes to meet mine for a second and I wondered, briefly, why he’d so suddenly lost the relaxed stance he’d been in just minutes before, but then he said, “Anything I haven’t heard much of before, in truth.”
Mulling his words over I then gestured towards the stand. “Can I?” I gestured, and immediately he knew where I was going with it, jumping back a step to let me riffle through the lot. 
I pulled out a couple I figured he might be into, simply going off of the Sonic Youth album he’d been eyeing, then a few of my own favourites, not that I’d let that tidbit slip. 
Handing them over, I let him search through their titles and answered one or two questions he had for me. I had to admit he intrigued me a bit, I’d had music enthusiasts stop by and talk about this and that with me, even had a couple people who played and were searching for new stuff to learn and adapt, but him? He didn’t give much away.
“Any good?” I questioned once I'd wandered back over to join him. I’d only left him to look through the selection again when a customer had called me over towards the front, and was just tucking away the few extra coins I’d been given when he glanced up at me with a bright grin. I was a little surprised to say it caught me off balance a bit.
“I’ll take the lot.”
Trying my hardest not to outright baulk, I paused. “The lot?”
Sure, cassettes weren’t all that pricey, not compared to pressed records at least, but there must’ve been just over a dozen that I’d pulled out to show him and now he supposedly wanted to take them all.
He laughed after a moment, most likely at the baffled look that marred my face, and made to pull his wallet out of his back pocket. “That gonna be a problem?”
The question was almost argumentative, pushy even, but in a jokey sort of way, the kind you’d use when ribbing a mate, not now. Not with some stranger at a market stall. It only left me marvelling further.
“Might be, I’ll have to find a bag big enough to fit them all though.” I countered, hiding my own smile when I heard him laugh again whilst I spun around to fetch exactly that.
“Anything will do, love.”
I dipped my chin in a slight nod but didn’t go right for the usual stack of black baggies I used for most sales, instead I swiped one of the few printed totes I had hung up for trade and tallied up the price. “You gonna be alright walking the rest of the market stretch with that?” I teased him, looking up once the transaction completed to hand him the now very full bag only to find him already looking back at me.
He hummed around a sly smile, fingers meeting mine around the totes handle before they were slipping away again. “Think I’ll make do. Only came looking for these anyway.”
My brows jumped up in surprise as I watched him tuck his wallet back into the pocket of his jeans. “Everyone loves Portobello.” I murmured and his light laughter echoed around the market stall once more before he simply shrugged. 
“Been a couple times before, and besides, don't reckon I’ll get a better deal than this, do you?”
My eyes narrowed when I smiled, humoured by his easy going nature and quick quips. I found that I wanted him to stick around a while longer, if only to solve the mystery he made. “No, don't reckon so.”
He lingered for a moment or two more, simply smiling at me and I found myself smiling back, before a gaggle of school kids wandered on over, loud and uncaring of the looks they garnered. They caught my attention too and I found myself reminiscing over years where I’d been much of the same. 
When I glanced back over to him, I saw that he was gone. My forehead pinched in confusion and I glanced around to see if I could spot him in the busy crowd, but it had grown all too quickly again and appeared easy enough for anyone to get swept up and lost in. 
I rocked back on my heels as I gave up the search, just before I was called over by one of the kids asking for a specific LP. I let it go, him and the strange encounter we’d shared, and went about the rest of the day just going through the motions.
By the time seven o’clock rolled around I was shattered and had already packed most of the stall away. I waited patiently for Rob to help me with loading the larger bits into the van, watching Nance for him whilst he wrapped up what remained of the fruit and veg, knowing he’d take most of it back home to his family. It was at that moment that I caught sight of something amiss in the vinyl cubby I’d used to hide those slipcovers in just before we'd opened. 
I walked over and was more than a little dumbfounded to spot a cassette lying there on its side. Standing On A Beach. One of The Cure albums I’d mentioned to that bloke in the cap earlier, the very same he’d gone and bought, and the exact one I was more than sure I’d bagged. 
I picked it up, feeling Nancy brush up against my side whilst Rob called out to say that he was just dropping off his usual round of goodybags to the nearby sellers. I waved him off, then looked down at the tape I held, pausing when my thumb caught on something attached to the back. 
Flipping it over I found a quickly scribbled note, its corner tucked into the case's opening so that it would hold its place. 
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(It sounded like you enjoyed this one when I asked about it. Know it’s a first edition too, so I figured maybe you should be the one keep it. - Matty.)
Matty.
“What you smiling at, weirdo?”
I startled at the sound of Rob’s usual drawl, head snapping over to my left to find him already trailing back towards us, a happy grin plastered over his face. 
“Go on, tell us!” He ribbed, and now that he was drawing nearer I was quick to tuck the note into my back pocket. 
“Nothing, just this tape. Figured I’d keep it.” I told him with a small shrug, clutching the cassette closer when he hip checked me in passing and bent down to give Nancy a good old stroke.
“Thieving your own gear! Wow, that’s a new low even for you.” Rob chuckled, shooting me a bright smile before he stood once more.
“Hush up, it’s a goodun. Forgot I even had it.” I defended, but he merely continued to laugh at me. Rolling my eyes, I shoved his arm lightly before I said, “Now be useful for once and grab the last of those boxes for us, will you.”
“Tetchy.”
I simply snorted, shaking my head as I moved to pick up my bag, clinging to the old cassette case for a second before finally dropping it inside. 
“You coming then?”
With a deep breath I took one last glance around the stall and didn’t see anything that had been missed, so I wiped down my jeans and then gave Nance another pet, “Yeah, coming!”
My week continued on much the same after that. I worked in the local pub behind the bar when I wasn’t performing on the crate stage there and on my day off I took the tube over to see my mum and nan. They lived further East nowadays, closer to the clinic my nana hated but needed, and not too far from the street she’d grown up on as a girl.
Saturdays were my only market days, even though it was open most of the week. Rob usually did Fridays there and the rare Tuesday too, when he could be arsed. Though the rest of his time was used up by frequenting the old boxing club every other evening, training and helping out with the younger lot that liked to come in. I’d only been half a dozen times, but he was very much in his element there.
So in shorter terms, my week had slipped on by without much fanfare, which meant that Saturday had seemed to both crawl and shoot back around. 
I opened the stall like usual, only without Rob for the first time in ages. He had apparently come down with some sort of bug or other that he’d gone and caught off of his nieces when he’d popped round to see them Wednesday afternoon- and well, he was a man, wasn't he? Which ultimately meant that he was dying. 
He’d let me have Nancy though, seeing as she hadn’t been out very much since the cold had hit him. So the Alsatian had jumped in my van that same morning and had been as good as gold all day. To be honest, she was a much better seller than me and I could see why Rob always brought her along with him, people seemed to flock to dogs which in turn meant more sales for me.
I’d been fanning the crowds away ever since we’d opened, which typically only tended to happen during half term or school holidays, but nonetheless it was a more than welcome change after the crappy tips I’d garnered down at the pub the night before.
‘Cause well, since I’d dropped out of school I’d taken to performing there on the more livelier nights, a few covers, one or two of my own songs, and then I’d end the set and slide behind the bar to serve. Normally I was fine with that, the tips were often good when both the older folk and the younger lot rolled in, Friday nights especially. Only, there’d been a gig on down at the O2 so we hadn’t gotten our usual patrons in, and had instead been sacked with a couple of stragglers and a less than lively lot.
Still, today more than made up for it.
The sun was shining as much as it could do during a London March, the skies were blue although not completely clear, and the market crowd seemed to be in good spirits too.
Sy, who worked a couple stands down, had passed out a tray of coffees not too long ago, just after the lunchtime rush, and then Dianne and Reg had followed with some of their freshly baked pastries. They’d even thought to bring a little treat over for Nance too. 
I'd just texted a picture to Rob to show him what he’d missed out on by having a case of man-flu and had just got up to toss the last of the rubbish away when I was caught off guard by an unexpected surprise.
“You!”
Matty, my mind supplied a half a second later. The same name that had been circling my thoughts since he’d left me that note the Saturday prior. I blinked at the sight of him. He was wearing a cap again, although this one was different, a dusky navy blue that he’d gone and tucked under a giant grey hoodie. 
“Me.” He grinned in glinted amusement, jutting out his chin in a gentle hello. “Figured I might find you here.”
The snort I gave was unprecedented, “Oh, really? Wonder what gave that away.”
Matty smirked. Matty. It felt strange to put his name to his face then, even though it had been puttering around in my head like the bouncing DVD logo since the last time we’d met. 
“Got any more tapes for me then?”
My eyes squinted in my attempt to dim my smile, not really believing that he was actually here, before I pursed my lips and tilted my head at him. “Might do. Take it you liked the last few?”
He hummed, smiling down at Nancy who’d trailed on over and allowing her to sniff at his hand. When she nudged his leg with her snout I watched on as he dropped into a crouch to give her a proper stroke. Nance seemed to be quite taken with him after that. 
I propped a hip against the nearest vinyl cubby, crossing my arms over my chest whilst he replied, “They were good- helped a lot, in truth. You were right about the Roxy Music album, too.”
Chuffed with that, I shot him a pleased little grin. 
“You’ll come to learn that it’s to be expected.”
“What, you bein’ right?” Matty wondered with a low laugh, petting Nancy’s head once more before he forced himself back up onto his feet. 
“What I said, in’t it?”
He shook his head softly and I felt his eyes on me before I finally gestured him on over to the cassette stand. “I found a few new ones in the charity shop near my mum’s the other day, figured it’d be best to add to the collection after you nearly took the lot.” 
“Wow, and she’s dramatic too.”
I swatted his arm thoughtlessly, then stilled the second I realised what I’d done, but Matty was either none the wiser to my momentary pause or just didn’t care. “That come with the job then? Having to be mouthy?”
My jaw dropped a tad at his sudden cheek and I tutted around the tiny beginnings of a stuttered laugh, “You’re brave. I’ll let you have that. But honestly, you’re probably not wrong there either.” We shared a chuckle, coming to a standstill by the tower full of tapes, “Most of this lot have to be gobby enough to have a shout at bagging any customers, especially when Rob’s around.”
“Rob?”
I titled my head over towards the next stall which sat empty, “Yeah, he works the fruit and veg. Might’ve seen, or rather heard him last weekend.”
Matty gave a slow nod, dragging his gaze away from where I’d pointed and back to the many cassettes I had to offer.
“So what're we looking for this time?” I smiled, thoughts on The Cure tape he’d gifted me, although wary to mention it too soon. “80’s Punk? Electro? Rhythm and Blues?” I dragged that last one out, enjoying the sight of his smile and how it only appeared to lift on one side before dimpling the corner ever so faintly.
“Give me one of your favourites.”
“Mine?” I blinked.
He hummed again, fingertips trailing over multiple rows of cases. I watched the movement, caught up in it in actuality, before I tore my eyes back over to him. 
I caught him looking again, only this time around I didn’t much question it, not when the Saturday sun sitting high in the sky reflected so prettily in his eyes. Lightening them enough that they almost appeared to glow. 
I followed through on the ask though, once I’d finally managed to get my head in working order and drag my gaze back towards the task at hand, pulling out an extensive range of cassettes, both singles and albums, for him to view. 
Matty liked to talk, I quickly learned. He asked question after question, even when it seemed like he knew more than he was letting on at times, and he waited whenever someone else walked over, sitting amongst the back shelves with Nancy whilst I talked and sold a couple of vinyls.
Soon enough the sun had started to dip low in the sky and we realised that the hours had honestly escaped us. I was startled when I finally looked down at my phone to see that it was almost time to start packing away, having lost myself in the conversation we’d shared, or rather the debates we had both started over artists and genres, and what decade had done the most for music. 
“Oh shit! I can’t believe it’s almost half six!”
Matty appeared to remember himself at my exclaim, pulling out his own phone to see for himself and blowing out a large breath when it rang true. “Fuck, ah, I didn’t even realise.”
He actually looked somewhat apologetic when he met my eye again. 
I shook my head and waved him off, “You’re all good, actually one of the best market days I’ve had in truth, made almost double than what I did last weekend, even with the stash you claimed.”
With a soft laugh, Matty made to stand, holding out a hand to help me up too once he'd found his footing. I smiled softly at the offer and took it, perplexed by the careful callouses which lined the tops of his fingertips and the soft palm that accompanied them.
“You play?”
“Hm?”
My chin jerked over towards where an older acoustic hung on display in the stall across from mine, “Guitar. Do you play?”
His brows knitted together at the ask but he did eventually give me a low chuckle too, hand still holding my own. “Yeah, how’d you know?”
My eyes flickered up to find his and I gave a small smirk, unable to help myself. “Intuition.”
Matty scoffed in amusement, “Oh yeah? How’s that work?”
Shrugging a single shoulder, I stepped on closer to him, near enough that the brim of his hat shaded the top half of my face and the toes of our shoes almost aligned. “Just comes to me, I ‘spose.”
He quirked a questioning brow.
“What’s your intuition telling you now then?”
I bit down on the insides of my cheeks in hopes to contain my playful smile, figuring I’d best take the chance now while it was being handed to me. “That you’re gonna buy me a drink.”
“Am I?” Matty answered, voice dropping a fraction as a grin threatened to split his face.
Humming, I could only smile, eyes flickering between his own before they darted up towards the brim of his cap. With the hand not holding his, I reached up and settled it a little lower on his head, then glanced back down at that growing grin. “I mean, if you’re gonna keep coming back each Saturday then…”
His eyes narrowed a tad and finally he let go of the chuckle he’d been holding onto, leaning in even closer to me. “Intuition telling you that?”
“Hm, along with a couple other things.” I quipped, revelling in the hand that came to rest on the hem of my jeans. “So, that drink?”
Matty laughed, sweet and lovely. “Might know a place.”
“Good,” I murmured in the little space he’d placed between us, mouth almost touching his own before I was smirking and pulling away, “Guess you can help me pack up then.”
Matty huffed out a breathy chuckle whilst shook his head at me, watching as his hand slipped from mine. Though he wasn’t left lonely for too long, seeing as Nancy padded on over to him for another round of strokes whilst I set to picking up a horde of albums. “Tease.” He shot out, though he didn't look too disheartened.
I gave him a loud laugh in return, content with being labelled as such. “Well you’d best get to work then. Quicker we’re done here, quicker we can see about you and me sharing anything other than a drink.”
And he did, he set to work swift enough, the two of us slipping by one another with a gentle ease we shouldn’t have yet earned and sharing soft smiles in the lessening market bustle. All the while I continued to wonder and watch him, thinking back on the cassette he’d gifted me and the sudden fondness I’d found for him. 
“Ready to go?” He asked me not long later and I found myself never wanting to say no to that pretty smile of his. So I just nodded and took the hand he held out, Nance moving to join us too before we finally ventured our way out of the market street. Matty asking me every question he’d been holding back the further we got, and making realise that I had a horde of my own.
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wreckedandpolemic · 21 hours
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fighting with my sheets - matty healy
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(mdni) in which you discover your boyfriend’s dirty little secret and bring him to his knees. part of the white and gold universe. 3600 words.
warnings: daddy kink, praise, degradation, masturbation, sex toys, sub!matty, oral (f and m receiving)
Matty’s at work when you find it, tucked innocently away under his bed. You’re getting ready for your date and you drop an earring, sending it skittering into darkness. Groaning, you kneel, feeling blindly for it, and your hand bumps against a shoebox. Curious, you tug it into the light; it’s innocuous, plain black and not matching any of the shoes you know he owns, the tape loosely holding it shut practically inviting you to nose through its contents.
Peeling the lid off, you flush siren-red, staring down at the box in disbelief. Your boyfriend’s hidden sex toy collection sits in your lap, cock rings and vibrators and even a fucking fleshlight staring back up at you. Flustered, you shove the box back under the bed, filthy fantasies playing so vividly in your head that you can practically hear his sweet, syrupy moans as he fucks into the toy. He’d be flushed, sweating, taking out his frustrations on the plastic the way he uses you after a long day.
Head swimming, your thighs clench, kicking off your panties and collapsing back against the pillows. Your own collection of toys lives in one of Matty’s bedside drawers, and you retrieve one of your vibrators, pressing it intently to your clit. A buzz of sharp, delicious pleasure rockets up your spine, a moan of his name falling from your lips as you grind down against the toy. You don’t hear Matty until he announces his presence, too distracted by the liquid heat pooling between your thighs. 
“Hi, princess,” he says, and you jolt, heart racing. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like?” you snap, bucking your hips and moaning theatrically. “C’mere.”
Matty laughs softly, slowly crossing the room to kneel at the foot of the bed. “Don’t be a brat,” he scolds. “What’s got you all needy, darling?” Oh, if only he knew.
What’s left of your brainpower goes on holding your cards close to your chest. “Want you,” you murmur, and Matty clicks his tongue fondly, his hand covering yours at the base of the toy.
“Here, baby, let me,” he urges, leaning down to kiss you as your hand falls from between your legs to your side. He picks up a familiar rhythm, your vision blurring with pleasure as Matty rolls the toy over your swollen clit. “So, so pretty, baby,” he praises. “My gorgeous girl. Fuckin’ dripping for me, yeah? Always so wet for your Daddy. Pretty little slut.”
You squirm, his words swirling together with the dizzying pleasure pulsing under your skin. “Only for you, Daddy,” you promise, pouting up at him until he kisses you again, slowly running the vibrator along your inner thigh as you tremble in anticipation. Matty dials the vibration up a notch, a scream tearing from your throat as he brings it back to your sensitive clit, intense pleasure-pain arcing up your spine.
Heat pools low in your belly, blood pounding in your ears as your heartbeat thrums in your cunt. “That’s right, pretty baby,” he smirks against your lips. “You’re all mine.” Breathing hard against Matty’s mouth, you writhe against the toy, desperate little whines slipping from your lips as your orgasm builds at the base of your spine. “Are you close, darling?”
“Mhmm,” you moan, head hazy. “Please, Daddy. Wanna cum f’you,” you slur out, deliriated and almost drunk on his touch.
Matty clicks his tongue. “We have reservations, baby,” he smirks, pulling the vibrator away from your clit. The loss feels like a physical ache, your body thrashing in protest as Matty kisses you softly and pulls away, wandering off to clean the toy as your chest heaves. “Come on, darling,” he says, emerging from the bathroom and watching you trying to catch your breath. “We’re gonna be late.”
Seething and unsatisfied, you pick yourself up and dress for dinner. It is really lovely, a secluded table at one of your favourite restaurants, candlelight sparkling between you with Matty gazing adoringly over your food, but you can’t help the tightness in your limbs, your short responses. You mull over the events of the afternoon, your thoughts circling around that little box under his bed as a revenge plan forms in your mind.
And you never found that fucking earring.
The ice in your veins thaws the longer you scheme, trading in your folded arms and monosyllabic answers for coy smiles and teasing murmurs of yes, Daddy. You let him lead you home and into the bedroom, trading lazy kisses and grinding in his lap. Matty’s hand trails up your thigh, electricity sparking under your skin under his touch. He still thinks he’s in control, you think with a smirk, pinching gently at your thigh as you put on your best performance of being his good little girl.
“Found something earlier, Daddy,” you say, pulling back and tracing your hand down his chest, slowly popping the buttons of his shirt.
Matty chuckles indulgently, still blissfully unaware of what you have in store. “What’d you find, princess?”
You hop to your feet and pull the box free, opening the lid with a smirk. Swallowing thickly, Matty avoids your eyes, shifting nervously as you settle back in his lap. “Do you use all this stuff, Daddy?” you tease, crooking two fingers under his jaw to force his gaze back to yours. 
“I- I used to,” he stammers, and you thumb gently over one of the spots of red on his cheeks.
“S’okay, Daddy,” you murmur, the power he’s handing you thick in your veins. Something about using the sobriquet while he melts under you feels illicit, delicious as it falls easily from your lips. “Don’t have to be embarrassed. Did they make you feel good?” He only nods, seemingly rooted to the spot as you palm over the growing tent in his slacks. “Can I use them on you? Wanna make you feel good, too.” Shuddering, Matty nods again, and you pout down at him, shaking your head. “Words, Daddy. You should know by now,” you tut, dizzy as you use his words on him this time.
“Fuck, yes, I want that,” he gasps, rocking his hips up against your hand.
You giggle, the subtle shine in his eyes familiar, jaw slack in an expression you’ve seen countless times on your own face. “Can you say please, Daddy? S’polite, if I’m giving you what you want.”
“Fuck, please, angel,” Matty almost whimpers, helplessly needy under your touch. You raise an eyebrow in response, an expression you learned from him. “Want you to… use my toys. On me. Please,” he chokes out, hanging his head.
You smile fondly, pressing a kiss against his slack lips. “Good boy. Was that so hard?” Matty moans softly, shuddering as you pop the button of his trousers. “You like when I call you a good boy, Daddy?” you murmur breathily, the dichotomous epithets tangling together in the air between you, thick with lust and promise. “Can you strip for me, baby?”
Obediently, Matty tugs off his shirt and kicks off his slacks, laying against the pillows in just his boxers. You’ll never get over the sight of him like this, chest heaving and cock hard and heavy between his legs; a pulse of arousal washes over you and drips into your panties. A wet patch spreads near his waistband and you grin as you strip to your underwear and straddle him, grinding against his clothed cock and leaning down to kiss him. Matty tangles his hands in your hair, licking desperately into your mouth and rocking his hips against yours. “You need to relax, Daddy,” you say, smiling softly against his mouth and peppering soft kisses over his jaw. “It’ll be more fun that way.”
“Fuck, princess, I’m–” Matty cuts himself off with a gasp as you slide your hand under his waistband and squeeze him gently, cock twitching under your touch. You ease him out of his boxers, a shuddering groan escaping him as his cock thuds against his belly, flushed and dripping precum. 
“Oh, you want this really bad, don’t you, Daddy?” you coo, pumping him slowly, slick desire dripping from your words. “Always callin’ me a slut, but you were just waiting for your turn to be ruined, huh?” You barely recognise your voice, low and dark and dominating, reducing your boyfriend, your smart, suave, older boyfriend into a whining, pathetic mess with a few scant touches. “Are you a slut too, Daddy?” You’ve played with the power dynamic before; Matty needs to give up his control sometimes, when the stress of his day-to-day gets too much for him, but never like this, never turning his filthy, degrading words back on him. The feeling is addictive.
This time, you don’t even have to prompt him. “Yeah, ‘m… ‘M a slut, baby,” Matty whimpers, your cunt clenching at his words. In reward, you dig your nail into his slit, the tip of your finger coming up sticky and coated with the evidence of his desire.
“Such a good boy, Daddy. You ready?”
You climb off him, retrieving the fleshlight and turning back to him. He sucks in a sharp breath at the sight of your hands wrapped around the toy, hips shifting needily as he gasps out, “Yeah. Yeah, ‘m ready, baby. Please.”
You come back to him slowly, teasingly, but he’s been so good that you don’t want to torture him any longer. Uncapping a bottle of lube, you coat the toy in it, fingers sticky and dripping as you slowly slide it down his length. A shuddering moan escapes him, his eyes glued to the sight of you, whining and bucking his hips into the toy. “God, look so fuckin’ pretty like that,” you moan, grinding your hips down against the bed, bursts of hot pleasure rolling under your skin. “Can’t believe you own all this stuff, Daddy,” you giggle breathily, pinching a nipple through your bra as you stroke him. “So naughty. Did you have to settle for all these toys before you had me?”
“Yeah, I did, princess. Had to fuck a plastic pussy before I found the perfect girl to fuckin’ ruin.” Matty chokes out, his words sending a gush of arousal flooding between your legs. “Fuck, feels s’much better when you do it, baby. My best girl, always takin’ such good care of me,” he moans, hips rolling up into your hand.
One of your hands dips into your panties, arousal dripping against your fingers as you rub slow circles into your clit. Whining, you stroke him faster, his rhythmic gasps and whines speeding. Your gaze is fixated on his cock as it disappears into the toy, slick, wet sounds mixing with your moans in the sex-thick air between you. “God, I fuckin’ love seeing you like this. Love when you get all needy f’me, Daddy,” you moan, grinding down against your hand.
Matty’s whines pitch up, pathetically desperate as he chases his release. “‘M gettin’ close, princess, fuck,” he gasps, his thighs trembling. He looks more gorgeous than you’ve ever seen him, flushed red and shaking, sweat-damp curls sticking to his forehead. He’s a fucking vision, and you can’t resist torturing him a little longer.
“Hold it for me, just a little while longer, ‘kay, Daddy?” He whimpers in protest, hips rolling wantonly, all pretence of rhythm long abandoned. “Don’t you wanna be a good boy for me? ‘M always so good for you.” He musters up a scoff, and you fix him with a glare that makes him press his lips together, subdued. “I deserve it, don’t I?”
“Yeah, princess. You do. ‘M gonna be good, promise,” Matty says, face scrunching with effort as you pump his cock at an almost punishing pace. His breath comes in short, sharp gasps, near-pained.
You tease him a little longer, his sweet, desperate moans falling straight to your core. Matty practically fucking pouts when you pull the toy off, and you scoff disparagingly. “Don’t be a brat. Was gonna let you finish in my mouth, but you can have this fuckin’ plastic back, if you prefer.”
“F-fuck, nonono, ‘m sorry, baby. Wanna cum in your pretty mouth.”
“You wanna, huh?” You click your tongue as he nods, whining and grasping at you. “How bad?”
“So fuckin’ bad, princess. God, I fuckin’ need it, fuck! Please, baby. Let me cum, wanna cum f’you,” Matty gasps, knuckles turning white as his hands fist in the sheets.
You frown, toying with the idea of denying him, revenging yourself for earlier, but he’s trying so hard to be good that you can’t bring yourself to. “Such a slut, Daddy,” you pout. “Gettin’ all dumb for me, huh?” He nods, another whimpered please falling unconsciously from his lips. “C’mon, say it. Say it, and I’ll let you cum, okay?” 
Leaning down, you press a kiss to his tip, licking the salt of him off your lips. “‘M a slut f’you, baby,” he slurs out. “Only you. My fucking girl.”
“Good boy,” you praise softly, taking Matty’s cock in your mouth and swallowing around him. He fists a hand in your hair, gasping and babbling praise as you bob your head, moaning around him. His choked gasp is the only warning you get before he’s spilling in your mouth, pulsing down your throat as you swallow greedily. Pulling off him with a groan, you sit back on your heels. “Taste so fucking good, Daddy,” you murmur, trailing your hand down his cheek with a smile. He grasps at you, taking greedy handfuls of your skin as he tugs you to him. Settling next to him, you grab his jaw and pull him into a slow, indulgent kiss, pressing the taste of him into his mouth as his lips press insistently against yours.
“Felt so fucking good, princess. Thank you s’much,” Matty murmurs, pressing close to you, his skin hot and sweat-slick against yours.
You laugh, carding a hand through his damp, messy curls, Matty unconsciously stretching up into the touch. “Oh, baby,” you croon. “I’m not done with you yet,” you smirk, and he shudders. “C’mon, lay back for me, Daddy. Want your mouth.”
He obeys, laying back as you straddle his face unashamedly. You’re soaked, dripping on his tongue, grinding down with a low whine. Pleasure licks up your spine as Matty devours you, nails digging into your thighs with eagerness. Your cunt clenches, already close to the edge just from the state of him, moaning helplessly between your thighs. “God,” you say, whining when Matty curls his tongue perfectly, heat throbbing in your core. “Love havin’ you as my fucktoy for a change.” His cock twitches at your words, and you chuckle softly. “Oh, you like that, Daddy? You like hearing what’s good little toy you are for me?” He sucks on your clit and you swallow a scream, blinding ecstasy spiralling through your limbs.
You lose your grip on reality the longer Matty tongue-fucks you, lapping at your soaked cunt with fervour. The burn in your thighs aches deliciously, mixing with the pleasure buzzing insistently in the base of your skull. His name tumbles from your lips, over and over as your awareness of anything else slips away. Your head is hazy, swimming in desire, Matty’s tongue swirling gloriously over your clit. “God, ‘m so fuckin’ close, Daddy,” you gasp, circling your hips faster as Matty dips his tongue back inside you. “Oh, my God,” you whine, pleasure coiled tight in your belly. He curls his tongue, mind-wiping pleasure sending you spiralling. You scream, ecstasy pooling in your belly and flooding out over Matty’s lips and chin as you moan and writhe helplessly on top of him. Molten pleasure hammers in your veins, your body loose on your bones as your hands tangle in the sheets.
“God, felt good,” you praise, climbing off him with a grin. “Love that pretty mouth of yours so much better when you’re not fuckin’ running it.” You pull him in for a kiss, greedily licking the taste of you out of his mouth. Indulgently, lazily, you kiss him for several long, blissful moments, Matty’s hands roaming over your body, electricity arcing under your skin to meet him.
“Thank you, baby,” he murmurs against your lips.  “Took such good care of me,” he smiles, flushing slightly and tucking his head into the crook of your neck. Gently, you scrape your nails over his scalp, Matty practically purring under your touch.
“Can you take a little more, Daddy? For me?” you murmur.
He lets out a shuddering breath. “Yeah. F’you,” he gasps, hips shifting against the bed. Lust and trepidation war on his face as you rifle through the box again.
“Good boy,” you praise, slicking up his cock and sliding the toy you’ve chosen down his cock until the ring sits at his base, the little vibrator snug against his length. “Have you ever used this with another girl, Daddy?” you tease, an echo of Matty’s usual words when you try something new.
“N-no,” he stammers, trembling with anticipation. “Only you, baby,” he promises.
You smirk, reaching down to switch on the vibrator. Matty gasps sharply, whining and whimpering pathetically as he shifts his hips against the stimulation. “Good answer,” you grin, lining up his cock and sinking down slowly. A long, low moan falls from your lips, the sensation unlike anything you’ve ever felt, pure pleasure rolling over you in waves. “God, s’like you’re my personal rabbit,” you gasp, grinding your clit against the vibrator and whining.
Matty’s nails dig into your hips, heat rolling up your spine. “Feels s’fucking good, baby, fuck,” he murmurs, bucking his hips against yours, the sweet jolt of pleasure intense as it rockets through your body. “God, s’so much, I can’t–” he gasps.
“Shh,” you whisper, condescendingly pressing a finger to his lips. “I’m gonna use you to get off, and you’re gonna lay there and take it like a good boy, okay, Daddy?” He gives a low, shuddering moan, nodding up at you with wide eyes and a slackened jaw. Slowly, you lift yourself almost all the way off him and slam your hips down, hot pleasure swallowing you whole. Your head tips back, chest heaving as you clench your cunt around him. Matty’s hips buck involuntarily, the sudden change in angle sending pleasure crashing over you.
Your head spins, the vibrations in your cunt working you into a frenzy, hips rolling against him. Obscene moans and slick, wet noises fill the room, your thighs burning gloriously as you bounce on him, heat welling between your legs and flooding your veins. Your body feels like a livewire, anchored to reality by Matty’s hands on your hips, dizzying ecstasy surging through every nerve at once.
Fire coils under your skin, your cunt soaked and dripping over him, your swollen, sensitive clit pressed against the vibrator as Matty gasps under you. “God, you feel so fucking good, princess,” he whines. “Drivin’ me crazy. Fucking– shit!” he hisses, fucking impossibly deep into you, stars shattering behind your lids and euphoria blooming under your skin.
“Fuck, Daddy, m’gonna–” you gasp, rocking your hips as liquid ecstasy drips down your spine. Matty thrusts into you one final time, the coil of heat between your thighs finally snapping. Your legs shake, your body caving in on itself, collapsing into pure bliss. Your vision whites out, whines and moans falling uncontrollably from your lips. A gush of arousal floods out of you, soaking Matty and pooling under you, sticky and hot against your skin.
“Fuck, shit, wanna cum s’bad, need it, baby, please,” Matty babbles, nails digging sharply into your hips as he shudders and bucks against you, whining incoherently. “Please, angel, it hurts,” he begs, eyes wide and pleading.
You croon softly, cunt fluttering with the aftershocks. “Yeah, go on, Daddy. Been such a good boy. Cum for me, okay?” Your words are all it takes, another achingly familiar reversal as he cums, a sound that’s half a cry of your name and half a keening moan tearing from his throat as he spills inside you.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, thank you,” he gasps, cock pulsing, hips meeting yours in aborted little thrusts.
Slowly, carefully, you climb off him and discard the toy, your body falling limp against the pillows. You pull Matty in for a soft, gentle kiss, pouring every ounce of the feeling in your chest against his mouth. “How… how was that?” you murmur as you pull back. “Are you feeling good?”
Matty gives a glowing smile, your chest warming at the sight. “I feel fucking amazing, princess,” he says, swollen lips meeting yours over and over, like he can’t resist. “Thank you, baby, really. I’ve never, uh… never done anything like that, um, with a girl, before. Felt really fucking good,” he grins dopily, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. 
You giggle breathlessly. “Now you know how I feel all the fucking time.” You curl into him, savouring the warmth of his skin against yours. “Always take such good care of me after, too. S’my turn now,” you promise, kissing gently at the corner of his mouth and sitting up. “Gonna get you some water, ‘kay? Run us a bath, maybe light some candles, make it nice for you, yeah?”
Matty gazes at you adoringly from the bed as you stand. “Such a sweet girl,” he says, more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him, still and sated and happy, the buzz of energy that perpetually emanates from him finally quieted.
“Only for you.”
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newwavesylviaplath · 2 days
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made for @thebonesofwhatyoubelieve
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need this loser to break my back in multiple places
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insi...uh....inside? 😮😵‍💫
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🩶🩶
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i miss this so much oh my god
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Top 10 most significant moments in pop culture but they're all this picture
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haveyouseenherlately · 22 hours
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get you a bf who has band shirts you can steal <3
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“About You” @ Radio 1’s Big Weekend (May 2023)
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hrryshoney · 21 hours
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daily1975lyrics · 11 hours
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❝i've not picked up that in a thousand four hundred days and nine hours and sixteen minutes, babe it's kind of my daily iteration❞
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