#PLEASE HELP THE BOY | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

twilightsumu · 14 days ago

Text

quiet tipper

connection: k. nanami x fem!reader

synopsis: he watches your live streams, always quietly tipping — and tipping bigger than anyone else ever did. when you finally notice, you offer him something in return.

content warnings: nsfw, smut (mdni), modern au, non curse au, camming (might have gotten some things wrong), mutual masturbation, sub kento (we all cheered), oral (m receiving), p in v, riding, no protection, crude language, spitting, creampie, very little plot.

(1) notification: this just randomly popped into my head months ago and has been collecting dust in my google docs. sorry to my fbi agent for all the sites i had to research. enjoy (please)!

wc: 4.7K (i say very little plot but can’t stfu)

other forums

The lights are off in his apartment — the only source of light being the red hue coming from his laptop. Heavy moans and the sounds of fingers slipping in and out of something wet clashes with the pristine quiet of his apartment.

His tie, still half knotted, is lazily thrown over his shoulder. Button up shirt half away undone. His slacks tighter around his tense thighs. He feels hot. He still feels too restricted. He wonders if his clothes were dried for too long during their last run through the dryer. Or if his air conditioner is working.

Especially as you’re completely bare on the screen in front of him. Plush thighs pushed open. The pixels of the laptop not capturing just how perfectly their glistening, your slick dripping from your own fingers.

A hand is already curled tight around his cock. Wet with his own spit and precum, he strokes slowly — trying to match the movements of your finger slowly dipping into your folds.

He’s studying everything you could possibly show him through this little screen.

But, that’s the thing — Kento Nanami has memorized every way you cum. He knows how you like your fingers curled up and the heel of your palm pressed to your clit. Or how you prefer vibrators for clitoral stimulus over a dildo for penetration — depending on how big the tip is, you’ll throw one into your routine. Or the way you spend just a little bit more time pulling at your right perky nipple, sometimes ignoring the left one all together.

He knows what you like and how you show that you like something. Like how your left eyebrows twitches when your fingers curl up, or how you bite your lip when you do use a dildo. Your moans muffled while you breath heavily out your nose, like you want to make sure your equipment picks up on the sound of your wet pussy plunging down on it. And all of this, because of this little website he stumbled upon a year ago.

jerkmates.net

“Are you making yourself feel good, baby?”

Your voice rings through his laptop speaker and his hand tightens around his cock. He almost wants to nod his head yes, as if you’ll get the answer and relish in the fact that he’s hunched over his laptop watching you finger yourself.

You’re leaning back on your elbows, one hand bracing yourself to the bed, the other one has your index finger pumping into yourself, slow and teasingly.

You glance up at the camera, blinking slow and wide-eyed like you’re innocent, like you’re looking directly at him. His hand on the desk turns into a fist. The hand pumping his cock, pumps a little faster.

The sound of his rugged breathing, the slick of precum and the sweat from his own hand mingles with the sound of your middle finger dipping into your wetness. Your hips buck, rustling the sheets below you.

Nanami has to pause his own movements, to watch how you curl your fingers up, just enough for effect. You let out a quiet, shaky breath — soft, just barely picked up by the mic — and spread your legs a little wider. The inside of your thighs wetter. Nanami’s stomach feels tighter.

He licks his lips, narrowing his eyes at the screen. If he could bring it closer, get bifocals, to see the definition of your wet sloshing pussy, he’ll do whatever it takes.

All he could continue to do is fuck into his own hand.

He watches you squirm. Watch your thighs tighten and shake, the perfect glisten on the inside of them. He wonders how they’ll feel wrapped around his head. He watches the way your stomach jumps, the moment your fingers press in deeper, rub harder. And obviously (and naturally), he wonders how his cock would look when he presses in deeper, if he ever had the chance to fuck you.

“I hope you know, I’m about to cum… just for you.”

Your free hand trails up your stomach, circling your right nipple with a slick thumb before giving it a sharp tug. Your back arches — palm meeting your clit. You gasp, shaky and soft. Your hooded eyes never leave the camera.

The corner of the screen, he sees the chat light up in a frenzy. Usernames drop corny one liners, some respond with one word answers. And some are just so crude, even for the site that they’re on. He ignores it. He never found the need to type something out for others to see.

His eyes avert back to you. Your chest is rising heavily, your tits perched up perfectly. And as if he could read your mind or the fact he’s watched you at least three times a week, he knows you’re close.

He bites the inside of his cheek, pulling himself closer to the screen. He strokes are tighter now, like he’s holding on to his own cock to ground him.

Fist closed, twisting slightly at the base the way he knows makes his thighs twitch. He wants you to know that little trick too. His stomach contracts with every upward pump. He can feel it building, tight and low.

Your fingers are moving faster. His pumps are faster. You’re curling two fingers into your pussy. He’s pumping from base to top, running his thumb over his leaking tip whenever he makes it back. His balls feel tighter, heavier. The muscles in his back feel tight, strained.

He wants to speak out, make a noise. His jaw slacked. All he could do is let out these pathetic gasps, your breathy moans speaking for the both of you.

And then it happens — you cry out, soft and needy, and your body jerks in that way that makes his mind go blank. Your head falls back, and he wishes he was there to take you by your chin and watch how your eyes roll back. Your fingers still pumping into your cunt, your other hand fisting the sheets below your flushed body.

He almost swears he’s in the little filming room with you. Breathing in your sounds, helping you cross that line the way you have helped him.

He finishes with a grunt that sounds like it’s stuck right in the middle of his throat — the first sound he made since he logged on. Hot ropes of his cum spill across his knuckles, leaking over his hand. His shoulders curl in and he jerks a final time into the fist still wrapped around his twitching cock.

Without much thought, it’s almost second nature at this point. Like conditioning, you cum, he cums, and then he goes to the sidebar to tip you. Never leaving a comment, never asking for anything in return.

Your breathy moans acts as background music as he inputs a number, one he can’t even fully flush out since he’s still coming down from his high.

He’ll go over his credit card statement next month and come back to this moment.

Tipped: ¥78,000

You: Hi! I’ve seen you tip before but that amount last night was way too much. Do you want a private video or something?

Nanami: I didn’t think you’d notice my amount.

You: You tipped double what anyone else ever sent.

You: Please, how can I repay you?

You: Where are you located?

You: Are you a creep in your mom’s basement?

Nanami: Tokyo

Nanami: I could lie to you but no I’m not a creep. And I live alone — in my own place.

You: If you go through the proper avenues (FaceTime, calls, pictures) would you like to meet? You: You know, so that I could repay you.

Nanami: Just tell me when and what I have to do.

Is he a real person? Check.

FaceTime to check? Double check.

Does he seem respectful enough? Triple check.

Are you staring at him right now, wondering just how badly you want to fuck him? Quadruple check.

“Why don’t you show me what it is that you do when you watch me?” Your voice is soft and a little teasing.

You’re sitting on the edge of the hotel bed. You’re in nothing but a lacy pair of panties and a matching bra to match. The blonde, quiet tipper is standing a few feet away from you. An aura of.. hesitancy wafted between you two. His hands are balled into fists in front of him. His shoulders tense.

You would’ve thought he would be nervous, a little awkward. But it is almost obvious he’s almost excited to be here but he’s afraid of messing something up. The way his eyes flick on every crevice of your body whenever you make the slightest move. Or the way he leans in whenever you say a word.

Maybe your allure would be gone after having you jump out of his laptop screen and be placed in front of him.

He looks down at you, his hazel eyes trailing along your body so slowly you almost feel like he’s touching you. You clench your thighs at the invasion of his eyes lulling at your chest. His left eyebrow twitches in response to your movement.

“We could cosplay as if you’re watching,” you whisper as you shuffle up the bed, inching up slowly. You’ll be lying if you said you weren’t excited to get this going.

Leaning back on your elbows, as you do when you’re streaming — your fingers start to tap along your shoulder blade to push down your bra strap. The tipper’s eyes running along every movement.

You’re used to people watching you, but under his stare you felt seen. He starts to lean forward, his hands finally unballing and softly brushing your shin.

“No,” you huff out, pulling your leg close to your body. “Just like how we ended up here… no touching.” You shrug. His eyes are trained on the very obvious wet spot starting to pool in your panties. “From you, that is.”

“What a way to repay your best tipper,” he hums, amusement evident in his voice. His eyes darkening and the sound of his hands fumbling with his belt buckle. His movements are fast, but a little clumsy. Like he’s trying to keep this moment going on as slow as he could.

“You should remember,” you fully pushed one of your bra straps down. The air sweeps over your perked nipple, making you shift a bit. “I only stream for thirty minutes.”

“Trust me,” he has moved closer to the bed, his thighs pressed into the mattress as he stands at the head of it. His hands pushing his pants down. “I remember.”

Your eyes train along his body. Suit jacket has since been thrown to the side. The tie loosely and lazily hanging around his neck. That blue button up shirt, pressed tightly around his biceps. Rolled up just perfectly. You could confidently and shamelessly stare at the veins on his forearms. His glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. His blonde hair falling forward, brushing his eyebrow.

You wonder, is this how he looks before he tips you? You have to hold in a breath, as your eyes finally trail down.

He’s big. Long, yeah, but it’s the weight of him — heavy, veined, curving up slightly. He wraps his hand around the base and it barely covers it. His thumb swipes over the slit, slow, deliberate, and your mouth actually waters.

“Show me what I do to you,” you murmur, your eyes not leaving his hand slowly pumping his cock.

“Should I tip you after?”

“I’m sure we could find other reimbursement methods,” you stare up at him. His cheeks already have the faintest tint of red, from the slow twist he’s been doing to his dick.

Without breaking eye contact, you slowly unhook your bra — throwing it somewhere across the room. Your hands immediately cupping your tits. Your index and thumb roll over your right nipple and you arch your back, lifting your hips in the process.

You catch how his jaw twitches and he leans forward a bit. His hand pumping his cock picks up some speed.

You stay there for a while, watching him as he so often watches you. Your hands are still cupping your breast. Legs bent at the knees, you feel his stare at the very wet print on your panties. You spread your legs a little wider, giving him a better view.

You don’t move. Don’t say a word. Only smiling slightly at his reactions and movements. The way his eyes jump from your left nipple back to the lace sticking to your clit.

His strokes are long, languid. Like he’s savoring it. His eyes drag over your body while his fist moves in rhythm — from the thick base of his cock to the flushed head, slick with precum that glistens under the harsh hotel lights.

The noises he’s making are low, and controlled. You’re thinking of a way to get more out of him. You want to hear how he sounds when he’s watching you in his dark bedroom, his credit card statement hanging over his head.

“You’re just watching me.” He huffs through his nose. He squeezes just a bit at the base of his cock, his head lowering.

“Roles are reversed, I guess.”

You push yourself up, standing up on your knees. He watches, not slowing down the pumps on his cock. His chest rising rapidly. His hazel eyes are dark and watching you with an interest that makes it feel like you’re buzzing.

You crawl towards him and he pushes his lower body deeper into the side of mattress.

“Remember,” you lean down, laying flat on your stomach. Your tits squishing into the plush bed below you. “You’re not allowed to touch me.”

Nanami’s pumps have slowed down, like he’s still trying to savor the little bit of normalcy that he has when he watches you. His cock twitches ever so slightly when you tilt your chin up to look at him. You make sure you send him your widest, doe eye look. The one you know gets you the most tips.

He swallows a groan, and you swallow a laugh. Your thighs clenching below you, pressing your knees into the bed.

You don’t wait for permission, or even for his fist to completely come off his throbbing dick. You’re already leaning forward, your lips brushing against the head of his cock — featherlight, not even a kiss, just a breath. You close your eyes and take in the sounds. You hear the very sensitive shift of air in the room. Nanami’s stifled groan, his hips pushing forward — his thighs practically imprinted to the side of this mattress.

You scoot forward a bit more, moving one of your hands from under you. With a drop of his hand, your hand is now able to grip him as you bring your mouth closer to him.

He lets out a strangled moan, it almost surprises you. You expected him to be rough.

With a slowness that you’re sure is killing him as much as it is killing you — your mouth is on him. Wet and hot. Your tongue flattens against the underside of his hard dick. Slow and aching. Dragging from base to tip in a single, wet stroke. His stomach jumps, so does yours.

“Fuck,” from the corner of your eye, you see his hand twitching. As if he’s fighting every single power in the world to not put his hand on you.

Looking up at him, your tongue sticking out just a bit, licking your bottom lip. His cock now wet from his precum and your spit. “You’re being so good. With no touching and stuff.”

He groans and you almost laugh at the weak restraint that is so obvious.

Your lips are brushing the leaking tip before wrapping fully around him. The saltiness of his own juices dancing on the tip of your tongue.

He exhales like he’s been punched in the gut. His hands balling into a fist on the side of his thighs.

You go slow, hollowing your cheeks and taking him in inch by inch. Closing your eyes as you take as much as you can of him. Your nose pressed into the blonde hair at the base of his cock whenever you make it that far.

You use your hand at the base where your mouth can’t reach, twisting ever so slightly and squeezing whenever you see his hands try to grip on to something other than themselves. Like a little warning for this game that you’re playing. Your free hand trails up his thigh, feeling the muscles twitch beneath your fingers.

Your mouth moves in a steady rhythm. Wet and warm, the soft slurp of each pass louder than Nanami’s huffing, in the quiet room. You moan around him on purpose, just to feel the way he jumps at the sound. His thighs tense, like he’s trying not to buck. You want him too, you want to feel him at the back of your throat.

“Do you reward all your big tippers this way?” His voice is forced, the control that he’s losing breaking through. You hum around him, feeling him twitch in your mouth.

You pull back with a pop, a string of saliva keeping you connected. Lips wet and swollen. You flutter your eyes up at him, licking a drop of his precum from the corner of your lip.

“Only the ones who don’t live in their mother’s basement,” you joke. You lean forward again, keeping your eyes on him. Your lashes flutter whenever you take him too deep.

You wrap both hands around the base, twisting slowly with your mouth at his swollen tip. You give kisses, open-mouthed licks. Your tongue flicking the underside, running slowly along his protruding vein whenever your tongue reached it.

You want to drive him crazy. You want him to remember exactly what you feel like when he thinks about tipping you again. Maybe you’ll reward him again.

When you take him deep again, you make sure to moan around him, watching as his left hand reaches towards the bed. He’s wrecked — red in the cheeks, sweat at his temple, teeth sinking into his lip so he doesn’t groan too loudly. You pull back

“What’s the rule mister tipper?” You whisper. Pushing yourself back up to your knees, you’re almost eye to eye.

“No touching.”

“Such a good boy,” you mewl as you lean forward, your hard nipples pressing into his chest. Your nose barely touches his. Each of you could move less than a centimeter and you’ll be lip to lip. He huffs through his nose, his eyes not leaving yours.

“Sit down for me.” With balled fists, his pants hang loosely around his thick thighs — Nanami shuffles around you. The slightest brush of his body on yours as you switch spots. Shuffling off the bed to stand in front of him.

The wetness between your legs is almost unbearable. You ignore his eyes as you quickly shimmy out of the now ruined lace. You’ll use his tip to buy another pair.

Your knees are brushing his as you walk in between his legs. His eyes haven’t left you since he’s possibly walked in here — you almost want to ask if he’ll like to record this next part so he could keep it forever.

“Still can’t touch you?” He mumbles as you brace your hands on his shoulder, lifting your body onto his lap.

“You don’t get to touch me when you’re watching,” you shrug, scooting up a bit. Your knees settle on either side of his thick thighs, and his breath hitches audibly as your heat hovers just over his cock — still hard, still twitching. His eyes narrow between your face and your bodies just barely touching below.

With your hands still gripping onto his shoulders, you lean forward, noses almost touching again. One of your hands reaches over, gripping the back of his head slightly pulling his head back. He hums surprisingly. You could feel him holding back, his fist slightly hitting the bed below you. His breathing is coming out slow and broken. His eyes finally closing — as if he’s sending out a prayer for some restraint.

“A good boy deserves a good reward,” you murmur, running your fingers along his undercut. Your pussy is so close from his throbbing cock, and you’re fighting every restraint to not roll down on him. Not just yet.

Before he could even open his eyes or even respond, you tap his chin with your free hand. He opens slightly and your mouth parts. A string of spit drops from your lips and lands on his tongue, right as he opens it for you — no hesitation. His eyes flutter tighter, and a low groan escapes his throat. His tongue runs over his bottom lip as he swallows, like he’s trying to commit the taste to memory.

“Such a good boy.”

Your hand gripping onto the back of his head moves down to between your bodies, your warm fingers wrapping around this thick cock softly. His eyes are still shut, his tongue still running over his bottom lip. You guide him to your entrance, running his swollen tip between your slick, coating him in everything he’s made you feel.

You're slowly dragging him between your folds and his fists beat into the bed. You smile to yourself.

“You don’t move,” you lean forward again, his eyes open just the tiniest bit. “Just sit here, and let me reward you.”

“I think we passed what I deserve.” His voice is shaken and his eyes so dark, they look completely different than they did a second go.

“Mhm, that’s for me to decide.” With all the control you could muster, you sink down on him — inch by inch. The stretch pulls a gasp from your throat, your nails digging into his shoulders as you finally bottom out. He’s thick, the curve of him hitting exactly where it needs to, and your thighs tremble slightly as you adjust to the weight of him inside you. You don’t even wait for him to collect himself or find a response for you.

His head falls back, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows down the groan that still somehow made it through. You feel how tense his whole body is. His thighs below you are holding you up, his fists slightly pounding into the bed. His jaw clenched as he watches through watery lashes as you start to get comfortable with the stretch.

You start to move — slow at first, dragging yourself up until only the tip is left, then sliding back down, savoring every inch. You roll your hips as slow as you can, watching his face for every little twitch, every broken breath.

“Fuck,” his tongue is sticking out and his eyes are squeezed shut. You lean forward again, nose brushing his. Your hands on his shoulders meet at the base of his neck, squeezing slightly. He opens his left eye, eyebrow rising with the movement.

“Look at me.”

You sharply roll your hips, earning a hiss from his swollen lips. His breath kissing your cheeks since you’re so close to his face. His eyes hooded, staring at your pussy meeting his cock.

You start to build a rhythm, up, down, roll. The drag of him along your walls has your mouth parting, letting out the same breath sequence Nanami is.

The wet sounds of your wet cunt meeting his cock fills the hot room — the soft slap of skin, the breathless noises slipping from both your lips. You move with purpose, hips rising and falling in a steady pace that keeps him fighting his restraint.

You’re having so much fun, you wonder why you haven’t done this before.

His cock fills you just right — thick, curved, stretching you as much as your body could take. Your thighs begin to tremble from the effort of keeping up with fucking him. But it’s worth it.

Every time you sink down, his jaw tightens. Every time your walls clench around him, he lets out the most pathetic moan. Almost a whimper and you hide the way you want to giggle.

You reach for one of his balled up hands. He looks like he might pull away out of instinct, but you place it on your left tit.

“I could break my own rule,” you whisper.

His fingers twitch, then his palm settles over your breast, thumb brushing your nipple just lightly. His lips part, a groan half-escaping before he sucks in a shaky breath. And because you’re far too gone, you ignore his other hand reaching up to grab your other tit. His fingers tugging and rolling your perky nipples.

His self-control is withering, if he even still has some— you could almost taste it. You’re obviously not that far behind him.

You don’t know who is louder. Nanami’s barely restrained whimpers or your loud moans as you feel him buck his hips to meet yours. His fingers tugging a little more roughly. Your hands back on his neck, squeezing just enough to make his eyes shoot open and stare back into yours.

“Do you want to cum?”

“Y-yes.”

“Then be good and wait.”

You pick up your pace. Your hips snapping as they meet him with every thrust. Your thighs are burning, but you can’t skimp out in his reward. You refuse too — especially with how good he’s making you feel.

You almost forget about his grip on your tits. His thick digits rolling your nipples — tugging a little harder on the left one. You arch your back and he smiles, an easy one as if he was so sure that would happen.

Sweat is dripping from not only Nanami’s forehead but yours as well. And you feel your walls tightening around him, you’re so close. And with the way he’s panting and rutting into you, he is too.

“I would’ve tipped you this much a long time ago if it means I could be here,” his voice is gruff and low. And that’s all you needed to send you over the edge. His hands still holding on to you, his breath tickling your cheeks.

You roll your hips, his own hips still bucking up. You want to stop and tell him he’s breaking the no moving rule. But he feels too good. He fits too well to try to stop it now.

“Well tip again and we’ll be back,” you moan. Your eyes are clenching. You’re biting into your bottom lip as you feel your walls clench around him. The drag of his cock, the twisting of his fingers. It’s too much.

Your mouth parts, no sound coming out. Your body shudders, falling forward. One of his hands that were on your tits is on your thigh as you shudder against his broad shoulder.

You cling on to him, your nails digging into his skin through his shirt. You’re still hastily grinding, ignoring the fire in your thighs for the way he’s huffing through his nose and his fingers gripping into your plush thigh.

Your slick and his own precum is coating everything between you. A wet spot on his shirt. You grind down harder, ignoring just how far over you are your own limit.

You feel him. The way his cock is twitching inside of you. How frantic his hips are bucking into you, begging for more friction. The hand on your thigh holding on so tightly, it almost hurts.

“C-can I cum?” His eyes are already rolled halfway back, his head lulling to the side.

You don’t respond, not verbally. You let out a moan as you grind down on him a little harder, giving him all that you have left.

He lets out a broken moan as he spills everything he has in you. His back arching, his eyes closed shut. He’s cumming hard — deep and hot. You feel it as you slow down your grinds.

He doesn’t stop shaking.

“How was this as a reward?” You hum, your breathing still heavy. You watch as Nanami’s chest rises slowly — as he collects his bearings.

He has not opened his eyes yet. His hands dropped to the bed below, with the faintest dud. The aftershock of orgasm still makes you feel the throbbing of his still hard cock.

You lean back. A whimper leaving his lips as you shift on top of him.

“I could give you my credit card number if you’d like.”

next forum

914 notes · View notes