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#IF THAT FOOTPATH IS THERE AT ALL
zwampy · 7 months
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im not trying to halt discussions related to public transit i am number one public transit freak i hate cars i love buses i love trains i love functional transport and in time this following fact may change but, broadly, people with mobility issues still cannot take buses or trains.
like when i try to logistically imagine someone I know who can't walk far, taking one of the buses i'm familiar with, to the hospital for an appointment, and i visualize the bus stop and the walk inside and then the department they're going to.... it's not happening.
yes ideally this would change but like as of right now disabled people need parking and they shouldnt be charged. the car is a required part of their being present at all! it's not the same as abled bodied people at ALL.
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fluentisonus · 6 months
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tbh I do love stubbornly walking on public footpaths where the landowner has done their best to make it uninviting or hard to find. sorry i'm actually even more determined to walk here now <3
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rosykims · 5 months
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bioware fumbled da2 so hard by not letting hawke do parkour
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falled-over · 4 months
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jakeperalta · 9 months
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ran my third 5k and once again it was HORRIBLE how do people do this for fun and why did I tell myself I'd do five runs before I give up
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severalowls · 9 months
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I'm not entirely sure what this PSA is supposed to be conveying but it is definitely ominous.
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lysenkoite · 3 months
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Wonderful news, I've gotten permission from a farmer to plant some of my trees on his land
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joyridingmp3 · 1 year
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it's so weird to see the trashy town i grew up in becoming gentrified right before my eyes
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commonghost · 1 year
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there's only 46 sheswin fics on ao3. horrendous.
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leopardsealz · 1 year
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today just as i was about to head into work i heard a honk & looked up to see 50 whooper swans flying over in a perfect V formation
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batfamfucker · 2 years
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Wishing I could have joined the protests in London for a General Election tonight but I was working. Happy Bonfire Night! Manifesting an Election and the Tories gone 💅
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saint--claire · 2 years
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You got this! I believe in you! 💕❤💛💚💙💜💗💜💙💚💛❤💕
I do not know who you are but I love you
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candyxatu · 2 years
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every so often i start feeling bad for wanting to leave my village bc like. this is the life tbh, this is ideal, this is how all communities should be
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neighbourhoodtwo · 10 months
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every time we go to spain they do mugs/keyrings etc w my old name on it and my parents are like 'oh do you want to get one they never have your name in england' and i'm like mmmm idk because yknow. transgender shit and i always end up finding something with my new name on it and just kind of holding it and staring at it cos i can't buy it without them knowing but i need it so bad
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yandere-daydreams · 7 months
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Title: Monster Mania.
Pairing: Yandere!Vampire!Neuvillette x Reader x Yandere!Werewolf!Wriothesley (Genshin).
Word Count: 3.0k.
TW: Non/Con, AFAB!Reader, Oral Sex, Mentions of Blood, Non-Human Anatomy, Possessive Behavior, Prolonged Imprprisoment, and Slight Dehumanization.
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“Pouting won’t get you out of this.”
“I’m not—” You paused, gritting your teeth as his shoulder pressed uncomfortably into your stomach. In retribution, you did your best to drive your knee into his chest, to let him know he was hurting you without admitting that you were even more fragile than he’d assumed, but if he cared about your attempts at resistance, if he so much as noticed that you’d moved at all, Wriothesley didn’t waver. “I’m not pouting, I’m trying to get away from my fucking stalker and his—” Another fit of thrashing. This time, Wriothesley was kind enough to tighten his hold on your legs. “—fucking dog. Why is that so hard for you two to get that through your heads?”
He hummed, drumming his fingers against your thigh. “Might be how often call us… what was it, again? A stalker and a dog?”
You scowled, crossing your arms. From your current position, slung over his shoulder, the remnants of one of his rope snares still wrapped around your left ankle, you could only see the thin footpath he was following and the dense forest that laid beyond it. The tree canopy was too thick to let you see the sky (something you mourned and Neuvillette adored, considering his fondness for early evening walks), but rays of golden sunlight still managed to pierce the endless sprawl of branches and leaves, marking the first signs of dusk. Neuvillette had still been asleep when you slipped through the door Wriothesley had forgotten to lock when he left for his daily hunting trip, but he’d be waking up soon; you could already imagine him rising from his canopied bed, picture the diluted shock he’d wear as he stepped into your bedroom for his first meal of the night only to find it empty. You weren’t surprised Wriothesley was so eager to get you home. Neuvillette was stoic at the worst of times, but the thought of letting his pet blood-bag get away was one of the few things that could get a reaction out of him.
Not that Wriothesley was much better. He was more level-headed, sure, more likely to let you wear something aside from ivory nightgowns and untangle you from Neuvillette’s arms when his hunger left him in a blood-thirsty daze, but that never stopped him from taking Neuvillette’s side when you found yourself in another petty argument, from standing in the doorway with a smile and a dreamy look in his eyes as Neuvillette fastened a lace collar around your neck, a collar just a touch too small to cover the twin puncture marks at the base of your throat and just a touch too similar to the steel choker that sat at the base of Wriothesley’s throat more often than not. He might’ve been human, something as mortal and as delicate as you were, but he was still a monster. He’d be crushed under Neuvillette’s heel a thousand times before he ever considered showing you mercy.
The shadow of their mansion was coming into view, now – the lonely building just as dark and just as intimidating as it’d been the first time Wriothesley lured inside. It stretched on as far as the eye could see in either direction and towered above you like some awful, looming thing; thick curtains constantly drawn over its many windows and every surface of its exterior constantly covered in a thick layer of creeping ivy. The rotting boards of the front porch groaned under his weight as he approached the front door, and you braced yourself as he cursed under his breath, patting down the pockets of his heavy flannel. You weren’t sure why they bothered keeping the door locked at all – aside from what it took to keep you trapped inside, at least. Neuvillette was the most dangerous thing for the next hundred miles, and Wriothesley was a close second.
The inside of the mansion was just as ominous; any light from the outside world captured and suffocated before it could penetrate Neuvillette’s endless abyss. You squirmed, hoping Wriothesley would at least let you cross the threshold on your own, but he wasn’t so kind, only responding to your silent plea with a playful squeeze to your calf as he made his way past the entryway and down an unlit hall, passing several torn paintings and overturned tables before finally shrugging open the door to Neuvillette’s study. A bottle of red wine sat open and half-drained on his mahogany desk, a small fire smoldering in the stone hearth he only rarely used. Neuvillette sat beside it, dressed in a simple black robe, his eyes blearily focused on the low-burning flames. He looked concerned, but his apprehension faded as Wriothesley carried you into his line of sigh, disappearing completely as you were hauled off of Wriothesley’s shoulder and dropped into Neuvillette’s lap. One of his hands found its way to your waist, its twin cupping your cheek, tilting your head back and allowing him to press a lingering kiss into the top of your head. “Beloved,” he muttered, practically breathing out his pet name for you before turning to Wriothesley. “Thank you, duke. I’m sorry you’ve had to inconvenience yourself for the sake of what should be my responsibility again.”
With a groan, Wriothesley fell onto the foot of the fireplace, shrugging off his coat. Where Neuvillette chose to hide his bloodlust behind a thick veil of unwavering niceties and delicate elegance, Wriothesley leaned into his brutality; broad muscle straining at the confines of his black undershirt, scruff cropping up faster than he could clear it away, his hair an untamable mess of black and grey and his clothes caked in an ever constant layer of mud and wear (save for his metal choker, of course, which was always polished to conspicuous shine). His eyes lit up when he heard Neuvillette ask after him, posture straightening like that of a soldier called to attention. You’d been too generous when you called him a dog. He was a mutt, too mindlessly obedient to ever question his master’s orders. “How many centuries has it been since you’ve had a reason to call me that?”
“It should be four this year.” Another kiss, this one to the corner of your jaw. You could feel the points of his fangs, still tucked behind his lips but no less dangerous for their momentary concealment. “Don’t you have something to say to him, as well?”
It took a moment to register he was talking to you, another to recognize the hypocrisy of what he was asking you. Your pressed frown fell into an open-mouthed balk. “Absolutely not.” And then, when Neuvillette held strong, “You can’t expect me to thank him for keeping me trapped here—”
“Silence.” He didn’t raise his voice, didn’t bear his fangs or dig his pointed nails into your thigh – he didn’t have to. All it took was that tone. Assertive, but not quite forceful. Lulling, but no softer than the wood and stone of his hellish mansion. Immediately, you shut your mouth. Neuvillette closed his eyes, letting out a raspy sigh before taking you by the hips and turning you in his lap, so that you faced outward rather than into his chest. That was enough to earn Wriothesley’s full attention, perking up as you were perched on the edge of Neuvillette’s lap. “Why don’t we try that again. Do you have anything to say to Wriothesley?”
You glared pointedly at the floor. “Thank you. For bringing me back?”
“And?”
“And...” This was the part you hated the most. If there’d been an alternative – a dungeon they could’ve thrown you into, a brand they could sear into your skin – you would’ve embraced it with open arms. But, that was the worst part about dealing with an captor. He had all the time in the world to make you bask in your own humiliation, and he never seemed to tire of the pasttime. “And, thank you for making sure I didn’t get hurt in the forest.”
As if there was anything out there that could’ve hurt you more than they did. Still, it seemed to appease Neuvillette, who let out an approving hum as he turned to Wriothesley. “What do you think? Be honest, this time. No lesson was ever taught with a gentle hand.”
He took a long moment to look over you, another to wet his lips. Wordlessly, dependent on the pure desperation in your eyes, you begged him not to listen to Neuvillette, to take your side just this once, but your improvised attempts at telepathic communication proved unsuccessful. “It could’ve been more genuine,” he admitted, with a slight shrug. “Didn’t have much nice to say on the way back, either.”
“Is that so?” His fingertips drummed against your side. “Why don’t you join us?”
Wriothesley didn’t hesitate, practically stumbling over himself as he crawled to Neuvillette’s feet. He came to rest on his knees, hand braced against the rug between his thighs and his cheek only a hair’s width from Neuvillette’s leg, as if waiting for permission to press against him. He always looked at his most relaxed there, on the floor, patiently waiting for an order from his master. It was hard to tell whether it was a skill learned through time, or if subservience was just in his nature.
His obedience was rewarded with a breathy chuckle, a hand run through his unruly hair. Wriothesley was more lax with himself than he usually was, letting his eyes fall shut as he melted into Neuvillette’s touch. “Since your tongue is so uncooperative today,” Neuvillette started, leaning forward just far enough to rest his chin on your shoulder. “How do you think you can show our dear helper how grateful you are?”
A bolt of cold dread shot down your spine. You moved to stand, to get away, but Neuvillette’s arm wrapped tight around your midriff, keeping you pinned against him despite your resistance. “Neuvi’,” you mumbled, squirming against him. “Please, Neuvi’, I don’t want to—”
“Now you’re going to play nice?” His hand fell to your knee, drawing your legs apart. Wriothesley filled the space before you could clench them shut again, his mouth immediately latching onto the inside of your thigh, his dull teeth burying themselves in the plush of your exposed skin. You cursed under your breath, trying to shake him off, but he held tight, fists curling around your ankles to keep you spread and exposed as Neuvillette watched on, his grin pressing into the crook of your throat. “That’s a little cruel, beloved. Can’t you see how excited he is?”
You could. There was a glassy sheen over his half-lidded eyes, a hunch to his posture that meant he was too distracted with you to care about how he held himself. You’d slipped out in a rush, eager to get as far as you could before Neuvillette woke up. In your haste, you hadn’t bothered to change out of the simple, silken frock you were wearing; a choice you only came to regret as Neuvillette dragged the tattered hem to your waist, as Wriothesley’s attention drifted from your thighs to your panties, the lacey fabric torn away with little more than a curl of his fingers and a throaty growl. That, more than anything, caught you off-guard. It wasn’t a threat, but it was more hostile than anything he’d ever directed towards you before. It wasn’t a sound someone like him, someone like you, should’ve been capable of making.
Neuvillette must’ve felt the way you stiffened against him. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss into the curve of your throat, just a touch too close to the vein he preferred to drink from, then another into the dip of your shoulder. “Surely, you must’ve noticed how scarce Wriothesley makes himself around this time of the month.” He paused, laughing airily. “He’d already be safely locked away in the cellar, if you hadn’t made him run out and fetch you. I suppose it must’ve slipped his mind while he was looking for you.”
“I don’t—” A tongue, broader than it should’ve been, hotter than it should’ve been, ran over your slit. “But, he’s supposed to be—”
“Human?” You refused to look at him, refused to acknowledge what he was doing to you, but you could feel his teeth ghosting over your skin, their usually dull tips beginning to sharpen into something more pointed, more animalistic. His tongue slipped into your entrance, thick enough to stretch you open with little more than its curling tip, and Neuvillette’s focus fell to your clit, left neglected by Wriothesley’s unwavering concentration on lapping up as much of your (humiliatingly, quickly accumulating) slick as he could. His thumb toyed with the sensitive bundle of nerves as he went on. “He is rather young, as far as immortal beings are concerned. He made an adorable puppy, back when creatures of the night were free to roam as they pleased, but he’s matured since his days of village razing and cattle slaughtering. I think you’ll find he’s learned how to keep his fangs to himself.” Wriothesley nipped gently at the junction of your thigh. You winced and Neuvillette added, “More or less.”
You could only bring yourself to half-listen to what he was saying. Wriothesley was growing more wild by the second, his formerly languid movements now hasty and agitated, little groans and growls joining the wet, disgusting sounds quickly filling the study. You felt claws that hadn’t been there a moment ago dig into your ankles, his already impressive build taking on bulk that would’ve been possible for anything natural, anything human. It wasn’t enough to just look away, anymore – you shut your eyes completely, bowing your head and curling into yourself as Wriothesley ate you out like a man— no, not a man, a beast starved. The cool marble of Neuvillette’s chest was almost a comfort when compared to the raw heat of Wriothesley’s mouth. It might’ve been more soothing, had he not been taking so much joy in your suffering.
“He’s always been prone to getting carried away. I used to have to fetch him at dawn – he could never seem to make it home before the moon set and he was left bare and unconscious in the vineyard of some poor nobleman.” He pulled back, letting Wriothesley’s cold nose grind against your clit in his place. You weren’t free from his touch for very long, though. The array of ribbons that kept the bodice of your frock drawn tight were undone, the neckline loosened and allowed to fall to your shoulders. “I’ve always preferred a more direct approach. The occasional drunkard taken off the street and drained was always enough to keep me sated.” He paused, cupped the curves of your chest. “Until I came across you, of course.”
You felt his fangs scrape over your neck, but he didn’t have time to bite down before you lurched forward, the sporadic movements of Wriothesley’s tongue bringing you to a sudden, unsteady climax. It was abrupt enough, violent enough to make tears swell in the corners of your eyes, to steal a ragged gasp from your lungs despite your attempts to swallow back any pathetic sound your weak-willed body might’ve wanted to make. For the first time, you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at him, letting your gaze fall onto the black-furred, oversized thing between your legs. He was unrecognizable, black fur and a wolf-like muzzle swallowing any familiar trait you might’ve latched onto. Pointed ears laid flat against his scalp, a grey-tipped tail brushed over the floor lazily behind him as he moved to keep going, to milk every last drop out of you, but Neuvillette reached down and took him by the metal collar now pressing flush against his throat. There was a low, drawn-out whine as he was dragged up and away from your pussy, but Neuvillette’s cruelty was limited to you.
“We spent hours talking about what to do with you, when he first brought you home.” He spoke absent-mindedly, muttering against your throat as he guided Wriothesley onto his knees. Even at only a fraction of his full height, he was tall enough to loom over you, to replace your limited world with a towering shadow of black fur and white teeth. He was panting, his chin glistening with slick and drool, what was left of his tattered clothes torn away in a few aggerated swipes of his claws. You’d been wrong, again – not every part of him was unfamiliar. His eyes were still there, the grey clouded and his pupils blown out but still undeniably his. Still fixed entirely on you.
“I thought he should turn you as soon as possible, but he protested, claimed the transformation would be too much for you.” He bowed his head, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Between you and I, there might be a chance he’s hoping I’ll give in first. He does his best to hide it, but he tends to sulk whenever I choose to feed from you. I think he’s hoping we might both have to rely on him.”
Clawed hands curled around the arms of his chair, the wood creaking under Wriothesley’s weight. For the first time, you let your eyes drift lower, let yourself take in the massive, pulsing cock standing erect against his lower stomach. It looked too big; like a prop, made to only vaguely resemble the real thing. It looked like it could tear you in half.
“Then again, he might’ve grown fond of the idea of adding another wolf to his pack,” Neuvillette added, as you went limp against him. “We’ll have to see how human you feel when the sun rises.”
It was an awkward position, Wriothesley too tall and Neuvillette too unyielding. He kept one arm wrapped tightly around your midriff as his other hand drifted into the limited space between your body and Wriothesley’s, his pale hand curling around Wriothesley’s thick shaft and carefully lining it up with your dripping cunt. Wriothesley bucked into the stimulation, his body lurching forward and his head nuzzling into the dip of your shoulder. You felt his breath, warm and humid, fan over your chest, then the rough reverberation of his voice against your skin. “Mate.” It was more of a groan than anything, one long breath that seemed to escape from some unseen vault. It was his voice, but there was something underneath it, too – something more guttural than you would ever want on top of you. “Mine.”
“Ours,” Neuvillette corrected, tightening his hold and drawing you close. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel it, pressing against your throat as his fangs reclaimed lost territory. “Our precious, misguided little pet.”
Wriothesley thrust into you as Neuvillette drove his teeth into your skin, both men piercing you simultaneously. Too stunned to scream, you could only silently wonder who would end you first.
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evie-sturns · 5 months
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miniskirt - Matt Sturniolo
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summary: you, matt, chris and madi are out walking in public, but your outfit is driving him crazy.
warnings: public bathroom sex, soft dom matt, smut!!
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(matt’s pov)
that fucking mini skirt. everytime she’s wears that skirt it results in us fucking, i don’t think there ever been a time she’s worn that and we haven’t fucked.
today, of all days, she’s wearing it. it’s sitting perfectlyon her hips as she walks with madi, she knows im staring but i can’t help it. the sexual frustration is building as quickly bends over to pick up her credit card that she just dropped, it only reveals a small portion of her panties but it’s enough for me to zone out everything chris is trying to tell me.
“matt are you even listenting?” chris says punching me in the arm and i instantly look at him “what?” i say playing dumb “oh please matt, you’ve been staring at y/n’s ass for 45 minutes” he says, probably a little too loud because y/n’s head instantly snaps back to stare at me, she smirks a little then continues talking to nick and madi. as soon as she’s not looking i shove chris and keep walking down the footpath.
(y/n’s pov)
we approach a small icecream truck and chris instantly drags madi and nick to it.
“hey guys does anyone know if there’s a bathroom around here?” i call out to my friends and matt instantly responds “oh yup, cmhere, i’ll take you while they order.” he says, much more confident then he usually is.
without another word he’s dragging me to the closest toilet block, which is practically abandoned from how empty it is.
“y’know you’ve been driving me fucking crazy this whole afternoon with that skirt.” he says breaking the comfortable silence. “hm?” i cluelessly respond, but in all seriousness i wore this skirt for one reason, and one reason only. “don’t play dumb y/n” he says sternly as he walks into a large stall with me, consisting of a toilet, a sink and a countertop. “hmm.. i think you’ll have to show me what’s driving you crazy.” i bite back and he instantly picks me up and drops me down on the countertop. his cold fingers grab my tight thighs and push them apart, revealing my white panties
“fucking hell.” he mumbles trying to stay calm as he pulls them to the side. “already so wet.” he tuts as he drags one of his ringed fingers from my entrance to my swollen clit. “more-..” is the only word i can squeeze out
“tell me why you wore that skirt hm?” he teases as he drags his fingers through my folds again “cause i wanted to.” i say challenging him, without warning he slams two fingers deep inside of me then instantly pulling out, i groan feeling the loss of contact “i think we both know that’s a lie.” he mumbled as he just looks at me “fine, i wanted you to fuck me because i know this skirt turns you on.” i whisper out and he smirks “good girl.” he says unbuckling his belt and yanking down his jeans.
the coldness of the bathroom mirror pressed against my back makes me shudder as i reach for his boxers, attempting to pull them down.
“you ready?” he says pulling down his navy blue boxers, letting his throbbing cock bounce out. “y-yes please” i say quietly and matt pushes his length, inch by inch, inside of me until i feel his tip kiss my cervix. he whimpers slightly “your so tight, i don’t know if i’m gonna last long with you squeezing me baby.” he warns as he starts to thrust into me slowly, i let out a loud moan and he instantly throws a hand over my mouth “we don’t want the others to hear if they come looking, do we?” he says as his tattooed arm holds me tight on the countertop.
“i’m gonna-“ i say, muffled by his hand but he instantly pulls out. “matt-“ i whine loudly out of frustration, he picks me up by my ass then closes the lid to the toilet, sitting down on it
“on.” he commands and i instantly straddle him, supporting my weight on his thighs, “go on” he says lifting me up by my ass and hovering me above his tip “you need some help getting on?” he asks softly and i nod. he nods aswell before biting his lip and dropping me slowly down on his cock. he lifts me back up to his tip and then pushes me back down to his base. i claw at his chest “fuck oh my god” i moan loudly as he frees one hand from my ass and shushes me again. he keeps lifting me up and down with one arm.
i clench around him without warning “fuck..” he groans “i’m gonna fill you up baby, is that okay?” he asks softly as he keeps thrusting up into me, “yes-yes..” i say out of desperation as i feel myself release on his length, shortly after he fills me up, thrusting a few more times to keep him cum buried inside me.
after a few minutes of panting, the door to bathrooms open, i freeze as i stay silent, matt still buried inside of me. “matt, y/n? which stall are you in.” madi calls out as matt slowly starts to thrust again , taunting me. “they’re probably not even here.” nicks voice follows
matt’s hand is sealed on my mouth as he thrusts slowly, but deeply. “just the end one, we’ll be a minute though.” matt calls out after a few seconds. i squeeze my eyes shut as matt thrusts deeper, and deeper. matt mouths at me “talk.” and my eyes widen, “u-ugh-.. sorry i-i uh..fuck-.. sorry i got- my period i’ll be a minute” as i speak matt smirks widely, watching me struggle to string a sentence together without moaning
madi knocks on the stall door, “do you need any supplies you sound a little distressed babe” madi whispers through the door and matt stays silent, forcing me to talk, instead i let out a loud moan, but disguise it with a cough “n-no..” i manage to squeeze out.
“we’ll be outside, good luck in there y/n.” nick says as him and madi walk out
“what the fuck was that..” i whisper to matt as he pulls out
“you know, it was funny watching you try to think while i was buried inside you.” he says cockily as he helps me button up my miniskirt.
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