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#just chilling with bestie
judas-isariot · 2 years
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So... I saw an homophobe on splatoon the other day and I immedialty rush to draw this has a respond.
I never saw him again now that I think about it.
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oceanwithouthermoon · 4 months
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sometimes i think about how nendo, kaido, saiki, (and sometimes kuboyasu but usually only when associated with them) are canonically the losers of PK and people actively dislike them, talk bad about them, make rumors about them, etc.
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out of context this image looks like two friends and their robot bestie are about to go get up to some tomfoolery
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vampirade · 8 months
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🥿🪞
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becca-e-barnes · 2 months
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Last week I had a full 9-5 day of meetings with no break but it really got me thinking about how much more fun that could’ve been with my Bluetooth controlled vibrator 🙈 Especially with someone like CEO!Bucky who has your calendar and knows what a long day you have ahead of you.
You received a message early in the morning telling you to make sure your toy was fully charged and slipped inside you by 9:30 and there was no way you weren’t going to follow that instruction.
The anticipation alone was enough to let the toy slip in easily and you found yourself distracted enough to almost forget it was there by 10am.
Around 10:15 you felt it start up and it almost made you jump. It wasn’t too intense, just unexpected but you could tell you’d kept control of your expression. People probably wouldn’t notice on a video call anyway.
‘That’s nice.’ You send the text off quickly, hardly looking away from the laptop screen.
‘Good. I’m pacing you.’ The reply almost drew a shiver from you. You can just imagine yourself sitting here all day, writhing in desperation by 5pm.
Incrementally, the intensity of the toy creeps up and up over the next hour until it reaches around half its maximum intensity and then it drops off again.
You’re convinced you’re bound to be dripping. Your panties are absolutely soaked through, the insides of your thighs are slick under your dress and you almost whimper each time the toy changes slightly.
‘Still enjoying yourself?’ The text makes you hesitate because you’re almost not sure that you are. Do you need more or less? Any more and you’ll undoubtedly cum and you’ll have to hide it from the people on the screen. Plus, you’re quite confident that your climax won’t be a reason for him to stop. If you ask for less though, you’re stuck here all day, unsatisfied and frustrated.
‘Fuck, yes.’ That feels like the best response you can manage.
‘Good.’ You hardly have a chance to read the notification before the toy ramps up inside you, far more intense than the 50% you’d been getting.
The vibrations are wonderful and within a few seconds, you’ve flicked your camera off so you can grind you hips pathetically, riding out an incredibly overdue high against your office chair.
It’s not long after that the toy drops back down again, slowing to a light buzzing that keeps you dizzy but not overworked.
‘If you turn your camera off again, I might just bend you over your desk and let them all watch while I fuck you myself.’
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jellydragons · 1 year
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tetra is having a Day
#my posts#my art#the legend of zelda#wind waker#tloz#tloz wind waker#tloz ww#wind waker fanart#like imagine you break through a window cool as to save your sorta bestie#only oops oh no some dude the size of a mountain wearing a bathrobe has you by the neck and is saying some wild stuff about whatever#and you very reasonably pass out on account of the being strangled#next thing you know you wake up on your sorta bestie’s talking (!) boat not dead which is a definite plus#but also UNDER THE LITERAL ACTUAL OCEAN. OKAY.#so the talking (!!) boat is like ‘go find the whatever’ so your sorta bestie takes you on a quick jaunt through this MASSIVE building#like this thing is bigger than windfall island and just under the ocean?? this whole time apparently??#anyway so it’s pretty chill you go down into the basement there’s some sweet statues and then a dude in ANOTHER bathrobe appears#yada yada says some stuff turns out the talking (!!!) boat was actual the ghost of some long dead rando who’s like a king ig and THEN#HE FIDDLES WITH YOUR MUM’S TRIANGLE NECKLACE AND SUDDENLY YOU’RE IN SOME MUSTY DRESS WITH MORE LACE THAN SENSE AND ALSO A PRINCESS??#which. okay. take a second to process THAT mess and huh if you’re a princess and the dead boat dude is a king wouldn’t that mean- AUGH#this takes place over like maybe 5 hours including the time you were Passed Out On Account Of The Strangulation#AND THEN YOU GET LOCKED IN THE BASEMENT LIKE????#anyways tetra should’ve systematically smashed every stained glass window in the place. she deserved it for having the Worst Day Of Her Life
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sequentialprophet · 4 months
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The thumbs up to Dante. I see you, Hook.
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satans-knitwear · 1 month
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I need to pick out some outfits for the weekend but I don't even know where to start 🤔🎀
Treat me ~ Tip Me ~ More of me
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*adds cat ears* there. Done.
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I really want to see Lucifer interacting more with the HH Crew.
I feel Angel Dust and Lucifer would have an interesting dynamic!
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arakkiisuperstar · 6 months
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As someone who knew nothing about the world of Faerun when starting BG3, when Shadowheart was talking about being a worshipper of Shar and keeping it a secret I was like “aw babes don’t worry i don’t believe in religious persecution :)”
And then I got to those temple ruins in the under dark and realized Sharrans literally eat people sometimes and I was like “Oh. Ohhhhhhh.”
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happyk44 · 3 months
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The thing was Percy didn't like being a bad kid. Every time he got kicked out of a school or wound up in the counselor's office over some incident he wasn't completely blameless for, his mom's brows would pinch. The line on her lip dipped. He knew what she was thinking each time: lost wages, job risk, who was going to watch him if he got suspended, where would she send him if he got kicked out, and so on.
He hated that he did that to her. Being a bad kid meant being a bad son. He refused to be a bad son - not on purpose anyway.
Well, he used to. She wasn't here anymore. Her brows weren't going to furrow. Her lips wouldn't thin. Her shoulders wouldn't draw up and tense before the principal even opened their mouth. It was over.
He didn't have anyone anymore. Nobody at cabin eleven would look at him. Other cabins steered around him like he was carrying the plague. Grover was off doing whatever satyrs did - probably getting ready to infiltrate some new school, befriend some new kid, save their lives. He didn't need Percy. It’d only been a few days but they'd barely interacted. Older satyrs would yank him along into the wood before Percy could get close or even open his mouth. Even Annabeth just eyed Percy with scrutinizing eyes - like she was assessing him for something. But every time he tried to approach her outside of their lessons, she brushed him off.
No one wanted Percy around.
What was the point of being a good kid anymore? There wasn't anything or anyone forcing him to keep his head above water. He was tired of the murmurs. He was tired of the avoidance. Tired of the glares from the Ares cabin. Tired of trying to keep the quake in his stomach tamped down.
He was just tired.
He thumbed along the flat edge of his sword. His new best friend was the pervasive feeling of loneliness. With a miserable sigh, he tucked the sword into the holster on his hip. People barely wanted to spar with him now so he was stuck to sweating it out on the dummies by himself. At least only when Luke wasn't pushing him as hard as possible.
But even with Luke there seemed to be pause. The first time Percy felt his gut yank after being claimed had been in training with Luke, and as soon as the feeling caught him, Luke begged off. Like he'd seen something in Percy that unnerved him. Sometimes when Percy looked in the mirror, he saw something in his eyes that unnerved him. A foreign thing - like a contact lens put in the wrong way.
No amount of poking or prodding at his eyes was going to get it out though. It was inside him - in his blood. He was sure of it.
He was starting to worry that it was the very thing he'd been keeping back, the very thing his mom was trying to keep him safe from.
The clang of metal against metal was loud as he walked past other trainees. There were a couple people leaning against the wall near the water fountain. As expected, they shifted away as he neared. Mistrust was bright in their eyes.
He did his best to ignore it. Not the first time people had stared at him like they thought he was dangerous. Or beneath them.
The water sprayed for a moment before he lowered his head. It was clarifying. He'd noticed it before, a burst of energy with every sip whenever he was tired, but ever since being claimed, he'd noticed the alertness more and more.
As he let go of the button, he caught the tail end of the muttering nearby. His stomach dropped.
“... should've ditched him sooner,” one boy grumbled. His friend snorted. “Maybe then she wouldn't have died.”
“What did you say?” The two startled. Percy understood why. He barely recognized his own voice, the eerie coldness to it frosty on his own tongue. Still, he repeated as he twisted on his heels to face them. “What. Did you just say?”
Panic besot them. For a second, the barest of a second, he could feel it kick in - be a good boy for me, Percy, be a good kid for Mom.
But she wasn't here.
She wasn't here.
So what was the point?
He took a step forward. “What,” he snarled, saliva coating his tongue like froth, “did you say?”
The others shifted away but he just crept forward. “Nothing, man,” one of them finally bit out, but they were lying. He could see it in their eyes, hear in their voice, feel it in their veins.
“You're lying,” he said. A bitten off laugh echoed from his lips. “You were talking about my mom.” Another choked laugh. “You think it's my fault?”
One of them raised his hands - a mock surrender. “Hey, dude-”
“You think I wanted her to die?” A sharp sensation coiled through Percy's chest. It thrummed hot and heavy, piling, piling, piling on his lungs. “You think I asked for ANY OF THIS?”
Someone's hand came to rest on his shoulder and it was like the crashing of the waves against his bare feet. Cold, clarifying, clear.
Freeing.
His fist drove straight into the jaw of whoever was behind him. He could barely tell who he was seeing - it might've been Luke, or any other tall blonde guy. But as soon as whoever it was stumbled back, he whirled around and punched whichever kid was closest in the stomach. They went down and he clambered on top to wail. Fist and fist upon whatever body part he could reach. He wasn't the most elegant hand-to-hand fighter but there was something to be said for the voracious and vicious energy boiling through him.
Distantly he was aware of yelling around him, aware of people pulling at him, aware of the person beneath him crying, arms over their face, arms Percy was tired of hitting. He needed to get their face, get their tongue, rip his mom from their mouth. How dare they speak about her.
How dare anyone talk about her.
A dozen hands finally yanked him back. He screamed. Bodies toppled. He grabbed the closest one by their hair, driving his knee upwards over and over again until hands ripped him away again. Swung blindly and caught someone. The two of them fell. His stomach pulled back. They choked. They weakened. He swung himself over until he was on top.
I want you all to drown, he thought, grabbing at their jaw. Don't ever speak of her again.
Saliva smeared across his fingers. His stomach pulled back even more. What was that - blood, water? On his hands, on his knees, on their skin, on their faces, in their veins.
His free hand drew out. He wanted it. It was his. Didn't they get that? She was his, and she was gone, so he would take and take all else that belonged to him until the hole in his chest was gone. Until the water they had coursing inside them filled him up.
“Percy,” someone whispered.
Their voice was familiar, breath hot against Percy's ear. He twitched. The feeling of nearby water, nearby fluid, was clenched tight in his fist. He just had to pull back. Yank it. Make it his.
The voice turned pleading. “Percy.”
He froze as two hot hands came to clasp his cheeks, dark brown eyes and curly hair blurring into view. Grover's face.
“Grover,” he breathed. For the first time since he'd ended up at camp, he relaxed.
Grover's thumbs stroked his skin. “Yeah, it's me.” He leaned in closer. “Percy, you need to stop.”
“Stop?”
“You're hurting people," he said. “You have to stop.”
Why? Percy thought. He didn't care. He didn't care if they hurt, didn't care if they drowned where they laid choking, didn't care if they suffered. It didn't mean anything to him. They didn't mean anything to him.
But this was Grover.
And with his mom gone, Grover meant the world.
“You want me to stop?”
“Yes,” Grover said. His breath was warm, his skin hot, his body close. Distantly Percy remembered nights at school like this - Grover tucked up next to him, trying his best to help Percy study when most people would've bailed. “I want you to stop.”
His lips were wobbling. His eyes were thick with wetness. His voice was unsteady - trying to be calm and rapidly failing. Even his hands shook.
Percy grabbed at his wrists. “Okay,” he whispered as he clung. His stomach relaxed slowly, the crash turning into a tickle. “I'm good, I'm good.”
Shakily, Grover exhaled, pressed his forehead to Percy's, and murmured, “I know, I know.”
His hands pulled away from Percy's face, but not away from him, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him in for a tight hug. Percy's breathing wobbled as he tucked his face into the crook of Grover's neck. He clung tight and desperate. Pleading.
No, he couldn't be a good son anymore. He didn't have to bother keeping in check to avoid the thin line of his mom's lips. But he could be a good friend. To keep the tears out of Grover's eyes, the tremble from his skin.
“I can be good,” he promised quietly, for Grover's ears only. “I promise I can be good.”
“I know,” Grover said. His cheek pressed against Percy's. “I believe you.”
-
The fountain nearby trickled quietly. The steady flow soothed the unease between Percy's shoulders. Still, he squeezed the pillow in his grip tighter to his chest as he watched Grover flit around the bunk closest to him. He snapped the final end of the sheet around the mattress. Hooves clopped quietly against the tile as he stepped back. His gaze flickered between Percy's bed and his own.
Then he grunted and began pushing it closer.
Percy hopped up. The discarded pillow slipped from his fingers and onto the floor. He nearly tripped over it trying to get to Grover's side. They pushed the other bunk over until it was pressed into Percy's.
While Grover unfurled his blanket, Percy stepped back. Awkwardness choked him. He didn't know what to do, what to say. So he picked the pillow off from the floor and pressed it into his chest. Grover didn't spare him many glances as he worked to make up the bed. Leaning across his bunk, he yanked Percy's blanket from between the seam where the two bed frames connected and began tying the edges of both blankets together. It was shoddy work, no way it wasn't coming apart just from them lying on the sheets, much less sleeping.
But Grover did it anyway.
As he shifted back, hooves scraping the floor, Percy held out the pillow. Grover dusted off the top then laid it against the headboard. With both hands on his hips, he admired his work. Percy stared at it too. It was nice. Joined bed. Grover within direct reach.
His palms itched.
“Are you scared of me?”
Grover twisted around. His brows furrowed, but the edges of his lips were quirked upwards. It was reminiscent of school - Percy stumbling over something he read and Grover, lost but amused, over why Percy thought it was a man-of-war that Theseus fought.
He was partially grateful Grover cut him off before he could finish what he actually thought the sentence was trying to say. It certainly wasn't fight.
“I mean,” Grover started and Percy's stomach drew back. Behind him the trickle of the fountain silenced. Like the water was holding its breath too. “I'm scared for other people, but I'm not scared of you.” He punched Percy's arm with a quiet smile. “I know you're not going to hurt me, Percy. That's why I stopped you.”
The fountain began to trickle again. “And that-” He faltered. The ghost Grover's touched goosed up his bicep and across his shoulder. “-that doesn't worry you?”
That you might have to stop me again went unspoken but Grover was always good at understanding Percy's unspoken words, at knowing his unspoken feelings - even the ones Percy wasn't even aware he felt.
He sighed. “It worries me. But not because it's you.” He shook his head. “And definitely not because I'm scared of you hurting me.”
His eyes scanted away, brows furrowing deeper. Then he relaxed into the bed. After teetering on his heels for a couple seconds, Percy joined him. He gripped the edge of his shorts so tight his palms burned. Grover reached over to stroke along the back of his hand.
He exhaled slowly and let go.
“You remember Pan?” Grover asked.
Percy paused. “The satyr god, right?”
“Yeah.” Grover pulled away to tug at his fingers. “He's been missing for a while. Ever since the industrial age took off. And no one knows where he is. It's the dream of every satyr to find him, so that nature can return to the way it was.”
“That your dream?”
He nodded solemnly. “You have to be a Protector first, before you can get your Searcher’s license. But I'm not like the others.” His gaze fell down. His hands sat in his lap, cupped around nothing but air. “I don't want him just so we can bring nature back to its peak.” He sighed. “We were a lot different when Pan was still around. More free. More wild. I want satyrs and nymphs - all of us to be us again!”
Percy leaned into him. “What's stopping you?”
Grover snorted. “People forgot. We were more than just Pan's disciples. We fought to protect the wild from mankind. We didn't just sit around waiting for him to tell us what to do. But nobody wants to do anything.” He scowled. “They think when Pan returns he'll fix it all and I-” He bit his lip, then shook his head. “The world has changed. And gods don't get involved like that. Not to the extent they want him to. It's not in their nature. But if he comes back then maybe…”
He faced Percy. His eyes were watery, darkening the already dark brown of his eyes into shots of black. The welled tears glistened ever so slightly. Like the night sky, free of pollution.
His lips wobbled into a gentle smile. “But that's why I'm not afraid. You’re like nature at its purest form - chaotic, wild, unburdened.”
Normally those words wouldn't hit Percy as compliments. Insults, degradation - things that would deflate him and make his mom frown. But Grover sounded so earnest, his heart swelled.
“You can't tell, but I can feel it.” He swung his arm over Percy's shoulders and tugged him in close. “Your demigod essence, this sense of the wild that I've been searching for my whole life.” He gestured loosely. “Even the Demeter kids don't have that. Their mom is all agriculture and farming and that's great and all, but it's not pure nature, it's not the wild.” He squeezed Percy's shoulder as best he could with one hand. “You remind me of home, Percy.”
The frog Percy hadn't noticed in his throat jumped out with a burst sob-laugh. He tried to tile away, but Grover just tugged him close, bringing around his other arm to keep Percy pinned. Nonetheless his hold was fairly loose, like Percy was a stray cat he didn't want scratching him if he felt like running.
Or like he knew that Percy was the ocean through and through, unwilling to be contained, wanting to flow wherever he saw fit.
Percy practically crawled into his lap, sniffling into Grover's shoulder. Warm hands stroked up and down his back. He laughed quietly - a half-distressed noise marrying the sound, but managed a breathy wheeze of, “You remind me of home too.”
Grover kissed the top of his head. For the first time since arriving, he shattered. All his twisted up emotions committed out in a tidal wave of tears and broken gasps. All the while Grover held him. As tight as Percy clung to him, he didn't complain. Just held on even tighter. Wetness from Grover's own tears smeared across Percy's skin.
Ever the empathetic. Like his mom.
Percy squeezed his eyes shut. “Please don't leave without saying goodbye,” he begged in a hollow, hoarse whisper.
“I won't,” Grover promised.
They held onto each other even as tears and cries faded away. Grover kept stroking his back with both hands. Percy continued to cling.
Shoulders shaking, Percy wound the fabric of Grover's shirt over his fingers. After a few minutes of toiling silence, he whispered. “I think I'm changing.” He pressed his forehead to Grover's collarbone. “I'm scared.” He pulled back and stared into Grover's eyes. “What do I do?”
“Be my best friend,” Grover said, like it was the simplest answer in the world. And as soon as the words fell off his tongue, it did. How silly was Percy not to think of it before? “My best friend is a good person, the best kind of wild.”
“I can do that,” Percy promised. “I swear, I can do that.”
“I know,” Grover said, squeezing Percy's cheek. His thumb swiped away at a still wet tear under Percy's eye. The stroke was soft, gentle. Kind. “I believe you.”
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jeskerthefool · 1 month
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What if. Stardew valley romance options in Until Dawn?
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...this is what happens when I watch until dawn gameplays while playing stardew...
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While assigning roles I realized that there are too many romance options in stardew for eveyrone in until dawn. Feel free to assume that Marlon is the hunter dude and don't ask me what Abigail's motivations are, I just thought she deserved to go apeshit.
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camels-pen · 4 months
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the difference between zosopp and sanuso (romantic OR platonic) is that Usopp is Zoro's specialest little guy and Zoro is someone Usopp hangs out with and looks up to and hides behind when things get scary, but Sanji and Usopp are best friends. They horse around, they beat each other up, they confide their worst fears trying to one up each other. Usopp hides behind Sanji sometimes, sure, but idk, Sanji's weaknesses are more obvious (bugs, fighting women, etc) so there are times when Usopp has to stand in front of Sanji too, yknow?
Like, how do I say this, all the crewmates are equal- Usopp and Zoro are equals- but with Sanji it feels like more... comradery? Zoro's a rock in a terrible storm- even rocks tend to get weathered and chipped and worn down, but they overall stay strong and steady. He has trouble being vulnerable and there are times when the burden he's placed on himself to keep the crew safe is crushing his chest. Usopp would help with that and be very understanding, but the point I'm trying to get with that is that those moments are few and far between. So I feel like Usopp, especially after Water 7, would take Zoro's lead on something like that, and keep most of his worries to himself or only talk about them sparingly unless they're really bad and/or he can't hide them.
Sanji is like a tree in a storm; he can be strong, yes, but it feels like he bends and sways with the storm, and has more obvious breaking points. He can relate more to Usopp's struggles rather than resorting to blunt honesty that might border on callous like Zoro. And while, with Zosopp, I tend to think of scenarios with Zoro being blunt like that as a good thing- because sometimes when you're spiraling, it's nice to have someone say exactly what's great about you and shoot down all your worries with straight facts that you can't argue with- I can also see this as being a bad thing. Anxiety can really twist up your brain sometimes, you know? And despite the words, the tone could still mess someone up if they're already feeling like a burden on others in some way.
With Sanuso it's a lot more understanding and thoughtful words. It's distractions and comfort food and patience- the kind reserved for Usopp- until Usopp talks about whatever's troubling him. Compared to Zosopp, it doesn't take as long for Usopp to open up, since he's done the same thing to Sanji at times and it's more familiar to him to talk and commiserate with Sanji about his worries and doubts and such. However, there are times stuff like this has absolutely no effect and Sanji will end up at a loss, no idea what to do or how to help over the course of several days with Usopp being quiet and keeping his distance, and he'll end up working himself up about it which will only serve to make Usopp feel worse and. yeah. bit of a vicious cycle with them.
So it's like. Usopp can be weak with both of them, but since I see Sanji as the type of guy who'd be more open with his worries (at least compared to Zoro), there's less of a need to 'perform' and be his best self around him. He's comfortable around Zoro, yes, but he is constantly wanting to show that he won't be a problem to him. On the other hand, while he's more open with Sanji, and Sanji with him, they tend to relate a bit too much with each other and they both have issues with causing trouble for others and being 'deserving of love' so failed attempts at consoling one hurts the other and creates an unpleasant cycle of misery and avoidance before some other crewmate (Zoro) tells them to quit being stupid and just fucking talk to each other.
#one piece#sanuso#zosopp#long post#nemotime#does this make sense or is this the ramblings of a person who's only got 3 hrs sleep#bc thats me. 3 hrs sleep. ugh#listen okay its like. zosopp has their own growing pains to get through yknow? zoro will eventually get the whole#'oh usopp isnt as open with me bc he wants to seem tough and is also kind of doing the same thing i do. thats bad for him'#and it'll be a whole thing about making a promise between the two of them to try and be more honest with their fears and seeking help#when they need it#the sanuso thing is like. i hope i didnt mean to make it seem like sanuso is 'better' or w/e bc its just a different thing#sanuso got their own problems to sort out. 1. Sanji's everything 2. boundaries on special treatment-#i'm not gonna go seriously into this but both relationships start out not the best and get better over time yknow#also i know usopp's afraid and freaking out a lot but for this post i meant his deeper fears and insecurities#not 'i've got can't-go-on-this-island disease' lmao#the tl;dr of this post is: Usopp is more closed off with Zosopp. Usopp and Sanji have similar issues that cause problems with Sanuso.#also the way i see these ships will probably change at some point. who knows#there was a post i saw recently that was like 'hey sanuso bc romance trio were already chill with each other so sanuso became chill with#each other in an 'alone together' type of way and also they have the same issues' and i thought 'wow so true bestie' and here we are#also. man. usopp taking on / copying the behaviours of his loved ones regardless of his age is just. my jam. in a positive or negative way#maybe i'll make a post about that explaining it more. maybe
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still one of my fav moments from this game
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letraspal · 11 months
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🍓
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becca-e-barnes · 1 year
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I reallyyyy want to talk about how much fun it would be to jerk a really submissive Bucky off with a pair of soaked panties 🙈
I feel like submissive Bucky is so vocal too and I love that thought. He trusts you completely with his body and he's not ashamed to make as much noise as he wants to.
He knows what his little whines and moans do to you. You get off on his desperation and he absolutely knows it. You can't help but melt when he looks up at you from his knees, his eyes wide and expectant, whispering "please, mommy" when all he wants is permission to kiss from your ankle to your knee.
He's learned that being well mannered is the only way to get what he wants so you don't mind rewarding his good behaviour. His plump lips begin to trail eagerly from the ankle strap of your heel, up the side of your calf until he reaches the joint at your knee. Your fingers tangle in his hair, warning him not to go any further and the groan he elicits is heavenly.
"Please let me kiss you." He practically sounds like he's panting. Frustration has settled into his features, his eyes trained on the cherry red lace that shields your sex from his hungry gaze.
He knows you're already wet and he knows that if he's just able to kiss a little bit higher, your self control might waver enough that you'll allow him to lap up your arousal and that's really all he's dreaming of.
"You're so selfless, aren't you?" Your sarcasm isn't lost on him. He wants to taste you because he wants to taste you, not so much for your pleasure. "No, let's try something different."
You slip your panties down your legs but he's smart enough to know you aren't going to give him exactly what he wants.
You kneel down beside him, lining your hand with the slick lace before wrapping your fingers around his stiff cock that's been begging for attention for far too long now.
"O-oh my God." The first stroke of your hand makes him crumble. Despite being slick, the lace offers so much friction and he's far too sensitive for that.
Your hand pumps quickly, watching his face while he begins to slip. "Good boy, that's it. Take it. Fuck, you're so pretty, do you know that? You're doing so well for me."
" 's too much. Please. Don't stop." His head falls forwards onto your shoulder, groaning pathetically into the crook of your neck.
"Do you want to cum, sweetheart? Are you going to be a filthy slut and cum in my panties? Do you even realise how fucked up that is?" Your soft voice makes him melt up until your hand on his cock speeds up.
"Y-yes. Oh God yes, please let me cum." He didn't think it'd be this easy but when you give him permission, he knows to take the opportunity while he's getting it.
In just a few more minutes, his thighs are trembling as he shoots a thick load into the already saturated lace lining your hand. The release of each gush of his seed feels more euphoric than the last and he's whining pathetically, up until he's fucked himself empty into your fist.
"Good boy." You whisper, kissing his damp forehead while he catches his breath. "I'm so proud of you."
You unfold the lace, admiring just how much of his cum he's managed to splatter over just your underwear. "Now. I want you to put these on and wait in the bedroom."
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