Private Viewing
Camboy!Eddie Munson x fem reader
Word Count: 6.8k
What happens when your favorite camboy is in your class? You should stop watching his content... or should you? What happens when you are eventually paired together for a project? Everything will be just fine, won't it?
Warning: 18 +. This is pure fucking filth. Spit, masturbation (m and f), use of vibrators and fleshlight, choking, multiple orgasms, squirting, oral (f reviving), fingering, voyeurism? Soft!dom Eddie, tell me if I'm missing anything.
Thank you @lesservillain for giving me this wonderful idea. 💗 and @munson-blurbs for figuring out if I should do this for Steve or Eddie and for helping give me a title💗.
Masterlist
Nothing but slick sounds filled your room, the occasional deep moan calling out from your laptop speakers accompanying your own sweet cries. The guy on the screen, Ed as he called himself, or DungeonMaster as he was known on Only Fans and Twitter, was fisting his cock in his heavily ringed hand. He was putting on a show for more than ten thousand viewers but the way he stared down the camera with those dark eyes made you think he was watching you, fucking his hand to the way you were pumping your fingers in and out of your soaking wet pussy.
You had stumbled upon his Twitter three months ago and he immediately captured your eye. The way his tattoos wrapped around his pale skin, how he wasn’t all lean muscle like the other OF guys, his tummy by no means a six-pack but he still looked strong enough to sweep you off your feet with ease. His moans were heavenly and so was the deep timber of his force as he praised you through the thirty-second video clip. It was all enough to convert you from your usual consumption of smutty books to the infamous Only Fans sight.
Since then, his streams and videos have become the one and only thing you get off to. And like then, tonight was no exception.
You were so close to the edge, Ed’s moans spurring you on. Your fingers move at an almost inhuman pace in and out, in and out.
“Rub that clit for me, baby. Need you to cum.” He groaned, head resting on his shoulder as he continued you pleasure himself.
“Fuck!” You gasp as you rub your clit with your free hand. Your rhythm is horribly off but it doesn’t matter, you are so close to cumming. So so so close. “Please,” you beg out into your empty room. You aren’t too sure why or what you are pleading for. More friction? More fingers? More words of encouragement from him? Maybe you’re asking to cum?
It’s like he had heard you through the screen as he moaned out, “That’s a good girl. Just like that. Doing so well for me. You gonna cum baby? Yeah? Me too. Want me to count for you?” He nods his head lazily. “I knew you would baby. Okay. Five.”
You want to cry.
“Four.”
The strings tugging inside you are becoming taut.
“Three.”
You feel like you’re going to explode. He’s counting too slowly.
“Two.”
The tears are flowing now.
“One.”
You let out a strangled scream.
“Cum baby. Do it, now.”
Your walls clench around your fingers and your legs snap shut, trapping your fingers. Every muscle in your body is shuddering as those strings snap and your release comes out in a stream, wetting your hand and the bed. Your hearing has gone, there’s a ringing in your ears but you can faintly hear Ed cumming as well.
With watery vision and slow movements, you turn to face your laptop screen just in time to see his tattoo-covered chest painted with milky white ropes of cum.
When the ringing subsides you hear him say more clearly, “Thata girl. Always make me cum so much.” He takes a towel and wipes off his chest and stomach before adjusting the camera view to the shoulders up. “Get you some rest baby, I’ll see you on Thursday.”
And then the live is over.
Slowly, sluggishly, you remove your hands from between your legs and begin the now regular clean-up routine before going to bed.
…
Three days later, Thursday rolls around, and thus begins the fall semester of your junior year of college. It’s a groggy morning, everyone is tired and very unenthusiastic about having an 8 a.m. advanced music composition class.
You had struggled to get out of bed at six this morning just to get one of the dorm showers first before they were all taken up. Luckily two of the five were open and you were able to get to class a whole twenty minutes early, even having time to grab coffee at the on-campus Starbucks on the way.
The music building was old and the tables you and your fellow students sat at were even older. It all added to the sleepy ambiance. Your eyes drooped and you yawned every time someone else did, the black coffee you had chugged not doing anything for you.
You’re only awoken when your professor, a stout old man with a very severe receding hairline, slams open the door to the classroom a little too hard and it hits the brick wall, creating a loud, startling bang.
He apologizes before making his introduction. He then gets out a clipboard with a sheet attached and hands it off to a girl in the front row, instructing everyone to fill in their name and school email for his role sheet.
It’s only once you’ve finished and passed the clipboard on, that you notice the guy two seats down from you looks vaguely familiar. You can’t quite put a finger on it and it bugs you.
His hair is pulled back into a messy bun and his clothes make him look like the alternative guy of your dreams back in high school. He’s got rings on almost every finger and an aura that just screams confidence.
It begins to become a problem, your inability to place this guy's face. You’ve only taken a handful of notes the entire first hour and thirty minutes into this two-hour class. Your eyes are constantly staring at him no matter how hard you try to make yourself pay attention.
Then, he raises his hand to answer one of your professor's questions. That’s when it clicks. Your pen falls from your grasp and your mouth forms an O.
“Oh my fucking god. No. It can’t be.” You think to yourself but just to be sure you take out your phone, turn the brightness and volume down, and hide it under the table. You open Twitter as fast as you can and you don’t even have to look for his user, he’s the first post on the screen.
Ed @ DungeonMaster86 was boldly displayed above a picture of the guy sitting next to you with his massive dick in his hand.
It’s a wonder you weren’t caught with how you practically choked on thin air and began furiously looking from your phone to the guy and then back to your phone.
Your stomach drops. You can’t keep watching his videos, can you? That wouldn’t be right. That would be weird, watching the porn your classmate makes.
When class is finally called to an end you pack up as quickly as you can and bolt out the door to your next class, hoping that by getting away from Ed, you'd be able to concentrate. Out of sight, out of mind.
That statement turns out to be false when he is in your next class and when you spot him in the student commons talking with another guy. It's like once you made the connection of who he was, he was everywhere.
…
Arriving back at your dorm, you throw your backpack on your desk, snatch your laptop out of it, and struggle to jump up onto your bed. Never had you been so thankful for the single dorm than this moment as your curser hovered over the bookmarked Only Fans page at the top of your screen. No roommate meant no one would see the moral dilemma you were currently losing with yourself.
‘You know him, it’s wrong to keep watching his videos.”
‘What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him though. The only way he would know you are watching is if you tell him, you aren’t going to tell him, are you?’
‘No…’
‘Then it’s okay, it’ll just add an extra element of taboo to his streams. Plus, he’d miss you in the chat.’
You sigh as the devil on your shoulder wins out once again, talking you into something you know you shouldn’t be. But hey, it feels good to be bad.
Steadily, you click on his bookmarked profile and the first thing to pop up is the live stream that is currently in session. And against your better judgment, you enter the stream.
He’s only just started, people are slowly filtering in. Ed is sitting on the edge of his bed, shirt off, and a singular, ringed hand teasing himself through his black jeans.
You breathe a sigh as he looks into the camera, eyes half-lidded, luring you in. It does the job, because in an instant your fingers are typing out a message in chat.
Princess23: hi Ed
His eyes flicker as he reads his messages, smiling as he replies to you. "Hi, Princess. How's my girl been?"
There's a bubble of excitement at the fact that he recognizes your username, even if you've been a regular in the chat for months.
Princess23: stressful… you've been distracting me.
The reply to his question is truer than he realizes.
"Aww, princess, is that so? You've been thinking of me?" He leans back on his free elbow, still groping himself with the other hand.
Princess23: yes. been thinking about your cock, how much I want it in my mouth.
It's one of the less bold comments you make but it makes you blush all the same, especially now.
"Yeah? You want me to fuck that pretty little mouth? Of yours?"
Princess23: yes please
"Mmm." He hums, fingers now fumbling with the button and zipper of his jeans.
You set your laptop to the side and start to situate yourself. Slowly taking your clothes off one by one.
Ed replies to a few more comments before announcing that it's time to start.
He leaves the screen for just a moment before coming back with something in his hand. Smirking at the camera he shows it. A flashlight in the shape of a mouth.
"This one’s for you, Princess. Since you need my dick so bad," Ed explains. He sets it on his bed before making a show of taking his jeans and boxers off.
As you watch, your hands roam your body. Fingers pinching and pulling at your sensitive nipples before trailing down. The light touch over your ribs makes you giggle. Then you rub and scratch at the inside of your thighs.
Ed's moans are now coming through your speakers, you tilt your head to watch.
"Spit on my cock baby, get it nice and wet for me." He commands before spitting in his own hand and rubbing it on his thick length.
"Your mouth looks so pretty like this, waiting, drooling for me. Need me to fill it so bad don't you, baby?"
"Yes." You answer him breathlessly, fingers teasing around your mound.
You watch and he sits back down on his bed, thighs spread, a hand cupping his balls and the other grabbing the fleshlight. He lets out a long, drawn-out moan when he inserts his cock into the fake mouth.
"Fuck baby, your mouth feels so perfect."
You can't help but whine. Allowing your fingers to finally circle your clit.
The both of you go one like this for a bit. Him fucking the fleshlight and you massaging your clit. But then you need more, more than your hand can give you. So you reach to your bedside table, stretching at an uncomfortable angle to open the drawer and pull out the purple mini wand you kept there.
The vibrations start slow and constant as you press the toy to your clit. It pulls soft, quiet noises from you as you watch your computer screen. Your mind is blank, filled only with the pretty sounds Ed is making, the way his body looks, and the pleasure between your legs.
There are no thoughts. You follow his lead. When his hand speeds up, you kick up the vibrations, when he slows down, you turn the vibrator back to the first level.
It's a rollercoaster, almost, taking your pleasure for a ride. The stream isn't even done yet when you feel that tight pull in your abdomen. The toy works you up fast.
So you stop. Taking the toy away and changing positions. On your hands and knees, you hug a pillow to your chest and prop the toy up under you, keeping it standing as you push your clit down onto it. It's not even on and it's making your hips buck in sensitivity.
You turn it back on and immediately feel the slick seeping from your cunt and running down the toy.
"Oh fuck," you cry. Your eyes locked on the screen where Ed has also changed positions.
He's got his own toy lying on the bed and he's laying over it. The way his leg and glute muscles contract as he thrusts into the toy has you memorized.
He chants, "Baby, baby, baby." Over and over. What you would give to have him chanting your name instead. Like a prearranged falling from his lips, praising you, worshiping you.
The need for him grows and so does the tightness in your core.
Reaching your hand down you turn the speed up. Your hips buck into the toy and you bury your face in the pillow. You're close.
He’s not far behind. Peering up from your pillow you can see his thrusts are sputtering. Sporadic as he draws close to his end.
“God dammit, baby. Gonna cum in this perfect mouth of yours. Fuck. Can you swallow it like the good pet you are? Hum? The good pet I know you can be?”
“Yes.” You turn up the vibrator. “Fuck, wanna swallow all of you. Please.”
The vibrations are becoming too much but you keep the toy pressed into you, hips shaking at the feeling of being overstimulated.
Without warning, you cum with a guttural cry into your pillow. Body spasming, muscles twitching. You can still hear Ed moaning and the sloppy sounds of his cock fucking the fleshlight.
With barely any energy you reach down between your heavy body and the bed and turn your toy off. You don’t even bother with your computer, too exhausted and fucked out to exit the stream. You fall asleep to the sounds of your new classmate's self-pleasure.
…
It’s October now. The semester is halfway over and you’ve still been watching Ed, or Eddie. You learned his actual name in class when your professor called role on him by name the second week.
Today you are being assigned a partner for the final project. You have your fingers crossed that Eddie won’t be chosen as your partner but as your professor calls out pairs, it seems luck is against you.
You freeze when your name is called and directly after so is Eddie’s. You groan internally. How the hell are you supposed to do this? You already have trouble concentrating when he sits two seats away, what’s going to happen when he actually interacts with you?
There isn’t much time to think about that as he abruptly moves from his seat to the one directly next to you.
“Hi.” He says, eyes bright and expectant. “I’m Eddie.” He holds out his hand for you to shake but you just stare at him. He looks at you curiously before waving his hand in front of your face. “Hello? Cat got your tongue?”
You snap out of your stupor and accept his hand, shaking it as you introduce yourself. “Sorry. I was a bit out of it.” You say, trying to play it off as you just staring off into space.
“No problem.” He smiles. “Uh, do you want to exchange numbers so we can figure out when we can work on this together?”
“Oh, yeah. Here,” You open your phone and push it to him with the messages app open. “You can text yourself.”
He does just that, even going as far as putting in his contact name as Eddie with the skull and crossbones emoji beside it.
“Great. I’ll text you when I’m free. I have work on Mondays and Thursdays, sometimes on Saturdays, but other than that I’m usually free.”
You nearly choke when you realize he’s given you his streaming schedule. “I- uh. Okay. Just text me when you can.”
"Sure thing sweetheart." He grins at you before standing, grabbing his things, and heading out of class along with the rest of the students.
You sit there for a minute, thinking. God, what are you getting yourself into?
…
You both have finally come up with meeting times that work for both of you. Tuesday and Wednesday after seven. Giving you time to get to the school library after the closing shift at your on-campus job.
It’s been two weeks of working together on this project and it’s been easier than you had originally thought to concentrate on the task at hand and keep your dirty thoughts at bay.
Right now, you are both sitting in one of the private study rooms looking at Eddie’s computer as he explains why this particular cord progression would fit with the emotions you are trying to convey in your composition.
You sigh, “Eddie, as much as I love that sound, I really don’t think it fits with the overall composition of the song. It isn’t as emotionally charged as I’d like it to be.”
“Well show me something similar to what you’re wanting.” He rakes his hand through his hair. It’s been a long night for each of you. It seems that every new section of the song you are creating for the project gives you a new challenge to work through together.
You pull out your phone and Eddie leans over to watch as you begin to type. There is a particular song you are thinking of that has the weight and emotion you are trying to convey with your own music and as you type the first letter of the song, O, the first suggestion that pops up is onlyfans/DungeonMaster.
Mortified, you slam your phone down on the table. Eddie looks at you with an eyebrow raised.
“What was that?” He asks.
“What was what?” You answer.
“Why did you slam your phone down?”
“Oh, I just forgot the title of the song.”
“Right…” He scratches under his chin and then stretches back in his chair. “Why don’t we call it quits for tonight? It’s getting late and we aren’t going to agree on anything if we’re both tired.”
A yawn suddenly comes up out of nowhere and you then realize how tired you actually are. “That sounds good to me.” You agree with Eddie and begin packing up your things. You don’t want to be with him longer than you need to be right now, even if he seemingly didn’t notice his OF user pop up on your phone screen.
“Bye Eddie.” You wave to him on your way out the door.
Faintly you hear him call out to you, giving a goodbye of his own. "See ya, sweetheart."
…
After your little slip, you began avoiding Eddie. At least in person, you still tuned into his streams. You bailed on the next three meetups you had planned, helping only through voice notes and text. Eddie said he understood when you said your boss was forcing you to stay late to deep clean.
It was Thursday now and when you saw him in class he barely looked your way and you wondered if he had seen what you hoped he had not.
You tried stopping him once your lecture was over, feeling an anxiousness creeping into your mind. Your conscience had been telling you to come clean. To explain your perversion. Let him know you watched him, that you paid to enjoy seeing him fuck into a toy or his hand.
You called out his name and reached for his arm. "Eddie."
He turns to you. "Hum?"
You take a deep breath to ground yourself. "I wanted to say sorry for not being able to come help with the project."
"It's okay, you said you had work." He replies, unbothered.
"No, Eddie, I didn't get held back at work. That was a lie."
He doesn't look all too surprised.
"I've kinda been avoiding you because- well, because of what I think you might have seen on my phone that day."
Eddie stops you there. "Can this wait until later? I've really got some errands to run before work."
"Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry to keep you Ed." You had meant it as a nickname but as it came pushing past your lips it was too late to take it back. You had never heard anyone call him that outside of his onlyfans.
You watched as his eyes widened at the name and a spark went off behind them. "I'll see you later sweetheart." The smirk he gives you isn't the usual playful one you'd seen him throw before. No, this was sinister, like he knew.
Your heart fell into your stomach as you watched him walk away, leaving you alone.
Tonight as you logged into the stream, it wasn’t to get off. It was to see if he'd show any signs of knowing you might be lurking about among the thousands of viewers.
When the video loads, Eddie is sitting in his desk chair. He's talking to the chat like he always does. There's something different in the atmosphere around him, mischief if you've placed it correctly.
He keeps replying to comments until the clock reaches 6:10. It's time for the show to begin.
"Tonight I have a very special treat for you guys." Eddie starts as he reaches over just off camera to his desk. "I've got the wand out."
The chat erupts. Eddie doesn't bring his vibrator out often, but when he does, you know it's going to be a good show for every party involved.
"I would also like to say hello to a special quest in the stream tonight." Eddie’s smirk gets bigger and your heart pounds in your chest. "Hi, sweetheart. Hope you enjoy yourself."
You feel like you've been shot. There's a ringing in your ears and your breathing has stopped.
He knows. Fuck. He definitely knows. You've never heard him say that pet name on camera. It's always babe or baby when he refers to the collective whole watching the stream. Eddie has only ever used that name with you.
Eddie starts up the vibrator, tracing it over his covered cock. He hums at the feeling, loud and long.
You clench your thighs together. You tell yourself you should stop watching but you can't bring yourself to.
'He knows." You argue with yourself.
'But he wants you to watch. Why else would he say his pet name for you? Why else would he say he hopes you enjoy yourself? He knows and he likes it.'
The devil on your shoulder makes sense again and you curse it.
So, you watch. Intently, you watch. Your eyes never leave the screen.
Eddie whimpers once he has his cock out of his pants. The tip is a deep purple/red color, showing how worked up he's gotten already.
He lets his head fall back, resting on his chair as he moves the vibrator down to his balls. He presses it into himself before dragging it up his shaft and to the head.
You feel a wetness seeping into the cotton of your panties and as his legs widen, yours press together more.
"Oh fuck. Oh fuck, sweetheart." Eddie moans, mouth open slack and eyes squeezed shut.
You can't believe he's saying your pet name and making those noises. You wonder what he's thinking about. How you'd look sucking on his cock? Maybe what it would be like to be pounding into you, watching your cunt suck him in and clench around him.
Eddie grits his teeth when he turns the speed up. One hand is holding the vibrator just at the frenulum while the other is cupping and squeezing his balls.
Your thoughts are running wild and your hips have started to rock in search of some kind of friction.
He moves his hand from his balls and begins to tug on his shaft. Deep guttural moans fill the air, and the sound of them turns you on even more.
It's not long before Eddie is bucking his cock into his hand. You can see his muscles straining in his legs as he does.
"Fuck fuck fuck- ah fuck sweetheart, you've got me so close. Fuck." His voice is pinched. You can see the exhaustion in the furrow of his eyebrows as he pressed the vibrator over his tip, the change in placement making his hips shudder. “God, I’m gonna cum. The thought of you is gonna make me cum, sweetheart.”
Hearing his breathy, deep, timber of a voice say that the thought of you was going to do him in had you thinking you might just cum too. No touching required, just Eddie and his beautiful noises.
In a matter of seconds, Eddie is choking on his words as his balls go taut. He lets out a drawn-out grunt and ropes of cum begin to spurt out over his chest, covering him like a painting. He doesn’t even bother to clean himself up before he looks into the camera and says good night, chuckling when he mentions your particular pet name again. Then, the screen goes dark.
…
Fridays are slow in the used bookshop you work at. Especially after 4:30. No one had been inside in maybe an hour? Your boss left early, leaving you alone to close down at 6. For the past fifteen minutes, you’ve been putting misplaced books back where they belong, sweeping, and tidying up anything else you see.
Because of the usual slowness, you have your headphones on. The music isn’t loud but it does drown out the sound of the bell chiming as someone enters the building. You are unaware of the person creeping up behind you until you are suddenly turned around and corralled against the bookshelf.
You let out an alarmed screech only for your mouth to be covered by a big, warm hand. Your headphones fall to the floor beside you as they are accidentally knocked off your head. You hear his voice then, whispering in your ear.
“Hi, Sweetheart.”
“Eddie-” You heave, relieved it wasn’t someone coming to kill you in cold blood.
“Did you enjoy my show last night?” He leans back, caressing a strand of hair away from your face.
You shake your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You deny. Even after you had told yourself you would come clean to him, granted that was before you knew he knew your secret.
“You don’t know, do you? I think you do why else would my account have popped up on your search suggestions the other day?”
Keeping your mouth shut, you refuse to answer.
Eddie takes your chin between his fingers and moves your face to the side as he leans into you. His lips tickle the shell of your ear as he speaks again. “So… Which one of my subs are you? Hum?”
Your mouth opens but nothing comes out.
Eddie tuts. “Don’t get all shy on me. Tell me. Now.” His tone is dominating. It’s one thing to hear it over a computer speaker, it's another when you hear it in person. His presence alone had your knees knocking.
“I-I,” You can't help but stutter. “It’s Princess23.” You shamefully tell him your user, eyes looking anywhere but his.
He sucks in a breath. “Oh, Princess. That was you?”
He forces you to look at him and you nod your head.
You hate that he’s making you look him in the eye, but you can see what’s swirling around deep within them. Desire, lust, dominance, but nothing mean. Nothing hurtful.
As you watch him, you catch the minute changes in his expression. His jaw clenches and his eyes darken, a hunger taking over as he stares you down.
“I can give you a private show if you want, baby.” He leans back in. “Right here,” He nipps at your ear lobe. “Right now.”
“Eddie, we can’t… We’re at my work.”
He looks around you, head swiveling to peer down both ends of the aisle. “It’s fine Sweetheart, no one’s here but us, right?”
“Yes, but-”
He cuts you off with a finger over your lips.
“Then let me show you why the real thing is so much better than what you’ve seen online.” He doesn’t give you time to think before his lips are on yours.
They are soft, almost pillow-like as they mold against yours. His tongue slithers its way into your mouth, tasting you, he moans when he does.
To you, he tastes like menthol cigarettes and black coffee with the faintest hint of weed. It’s intoxicating, and addicting. You’ve only had one taste and now you won't be able to function without him.
His hand cups your cheek and pulls you closer. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers tugging at his hair. His body keeps you pinned to the shelves and he spreads your legs by inserting one of his own between them.
With him being so much taller than you, it only takes you barely bending your knees for you to make contact with his thigh. You are thankful when he doesn’t stop you from humping his leg. The friction of you rubbing yourself against him has the seam of your pants pressing against your clit. It’s a wonderful pressure that leaves your mind blank.
When he pulls away, you follow, not wanting his mouth to leave yours. Eddie chuckles when you give a needy whine.
"It's okay baby, I'll give you what you want." He coos. "But first, since you wanna get yourself off, you've got to make yourself cum on my leg."
You pout. "But Eddie…"
"Ah ah, don't complain sweet girl, you'll only make it take longer. Now get to work."
You do as he says, rolling your hips with purpose against him. He doesn't help you at all, he only provides support and kissed along your jaw every few seconds as he watches you work.
It's harder than you thought it would be. The layers of denim dulled the sensations yet added to the tension your clit felt as the fabric rubbed against it.
"Mmm, fuck." You gasp, fingers gripping onto Eddie’s shoulders. "M'so close. Eddie, I'm so close."
He smiles at you and he gives your body gentle touches. "That's it, Princess. Let go. Being such a good girl for me."
You moan loudly at his praise.
"That right sweet girl, use me to get yourself off. That's it, keep going."
His words are spurring you on, your hips, although losing their rhythm and steadiness, keep going strong. Then, you feel it. That tautness in your tummy and the ache in your bones. You are so close.
"Please, Eddie. Ah- so close. Need more." Your words are short and your hips move faster.
"What is it, baby? What do you need?" Eddie asks, willing to give you just a little.
"Kiss me again," you beg.
He obliges. Taking your face in his hands and practically devouring you.
The canter of your hips stalls as your body shudders against him. A sticky wetness can now be felt, uncomfortably, between your legs.
"So good for me." He praises.
You can feel how hard he is, his needy cock prominently pressing into your thigh.
"Wanna feel you. Eddie please, I need to feel you." You're practically begging him to fuck you now.
"Yeah, sweet girl? You need me to stretch that pretty pussy on my dick? Make you feel so good, baby." He trailed his kiss down to your neck, stopping only to suck and nip at the sensitive skin.
You nod frantically. "Yes, yes Eddie. Need you inside me."
Hands rush to unbutton pants, fingers caress bare skin, breaths hitch. You tug at Eddie's pants impatiently as he pulls your own down. The sudden feeling of cold air hitting the pool of slick between your thighs.
You are both a whirlwind of arms and clothes and a few books falling from their shelf. Eddie’s fingers make their way to your center, exploring between your folds.
You throw your head back, cracking it on the shelf above. "Ow," You moan out in pain.
"Careful there, Sweetheart." He gives you another kiss and moves his unoccupied hand to cradle your head.
The pain is instantly forgotten when two of his thick fingers circle your clit before pushing into your entrance.
"Mmmm- god." He feels so good inside you, fingers curling into your walls. The wet slick of him moving fills the stagnant air of the bookstore.
"You're sucking me in, baby. Pussy squeezing me so tight." Eddie rests his forehead on yours, his breath mixing with your own. "Can't wait to feel you around my cock."
Gasping in response, you buck your hips up into his hand. "More-"
It doesn't take much convincing for Eddie to pull his hand from between your legs and position his hard length at your entrance. Slowly he slips inside, meeting no resistance with how wet you are.
Eddie pushes into you, cock stretching you out farther than you think you've ever been before. His one hand rests on the back of your head while the other pushes your shaking hand out of his way as he goes to press it against your neck.
You grasp his arm, nails scratching his skin as he chokes you.
"Oh- oh, Eddie. Fuck me." You cry, cunt fluttering around him.
Your words are music to his ears. His pace begins steadily. In and out at a lazy, leisurely speed. Then he picks it up, hips bucking faster and faster.
He's giving it all to you. Everything you've dreamed of since you saw him on your Twitter all those months ago.
The head of his cock is repeatedly hitting that one spot inside of you that makes your toes curl. You can’t keep yourself up. The feelings coursing through you have your knees buckling and Eddie does a good job at catching your weight.
He stops his movements to try and situate you. “Come on, baby, gotta stand up.”
You shake your head. “I can’t, s’too much.” Your heart is pounding in your chest, if you even tried to stand you would just fall again. “There's a couch.” You point to the back of the store. “It’s in the break room.”
Eddie grunts as he hoists you up in his arms and follows your directions.
The couch is old and made of leather. It is cold on your skin as Eddie lays you down and you shiver as he rips your pants and underwear from around your ankles. Never would you have ever imagined being naked from the waist down in your work break room.
In contrast to the cool leather, Eddie’s hands are searing hot. He grips the back of your knees, picking your legs up and spreading you out. You’re almost folded in half.
“Jesus fucking christ. You. Are. Beautiful.” He enunciated every word. The complement has you keening and clenching around nothing. “Fuck, look at that pretty cunt. She’s gaping for me.” Eddie smiles, eyes flickering to yours before looking back to your most intimate part.
You let out a wonton gasp when he spits, a glob of it falling right atop your parted slit. Eddie takes a hand away and grabs his cock. He rubs the tip through your folds, giving your clit a heavy tap tap tap before entering you again and grabbing the back of your knee again.
Eddie wastes no time in pistoning his hips into yours. The new angle gives him free range of movement to fuck you fast and deep. The skin of his thighs makes a sharp slapping sound when he connects with your ass, it sets the rhythm for the song of your shared moans.
“Pull your shirt up.” He commands and you do as he says. Lifting your shirt up and over your breasts. Eddie lets out an irritated grunt at the sight of your bra. “That too.” He puffs out and you pull it up as far as it will allow.
Your breasts bounce as Eddie fucks you mercilessly into the couch. His eyes are shamelessly trained on them. “Fucking hell, Princess. Gimmie our hands.”
You reach out for him and he grabs your wrists, guiding you to hold your legs back like he had been doing. With the newfound freedom of his hands, he extends them out to play with your tits. He pinches and tugs at your nipples, making you moan in pleasure as he continues his assault. His thrusts become faster, harder, more desperate. You know he's close and you can't take much more either.
“Eddie… Ah- Eddie-” You babble out his name. You wiggle under his hold and the harsh prodding of his cock into your cervix. The strings of another orgasm are being pulled tight.
He growls. “I know baby, I know. Fucking cum for me. Cum on my cock.”
Tears well up in your eyes and begin to overflow. Your body writhes, back bowing, muscles straining. You’re on the precipice.
Eddie sees how close you are and moves a hand down between your legs, circling his thumb over your slick-covered clit.
“Oooh- Oh fuck!” You scream. “Shit shit shit shitshitshitshit…. Ah!”
“Louder.” He moans. “Want the whole town to hear you sweet girl.”
“Eddie! Oh, I’m there. I’m fucking there.” You cry, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you let go. A scream erupts from your throat. Even in your ecstasy, you can feel Eddie’s tempo shift. He’s losing speed.
“Goddammit. I cumming too.” Eddie whimpers, sinking into you fully. His cum fills you up and you can fill you as it runs down your ass as he pulls out.
Your body is twitching as he moves you to lay more fully on the couch. He doesn’t follow though. No. He sinks to his knees and before your foggy mind can even comprehend it, he attaches his mouth to your pussy.
You are pliant under his touch, unable to resist. His tongue explores you and you moan in pleasure. He’s lapping up the mixture of his cum and your slick, humming at the taste the whole time.
You choke back a sob when his tongue flicks repeatedly over your clit before he begins to suck on the already abused bud. “Eddie, please.” Reaching down you tug on his hair but he doesn’t move. “Ed-” He starts shaking his head, burying himself in your pussy.
Another orgasm is quickly approaching. Your breathing quickens and you can feel your body trembling as he works you up, sending you higher and higher until you can’t take it anymore. Your orgasm hits you like a wave, and your body spasms in pleasure. He doesn't stop, continuing his ministrations until you finally come down from your high once more.
“Christ. You taste so good.” He says as he crawls up your spent body. Draping himself over you he places kiss after tender kiss all over your face. “Did so good for me. I’m so proud of you.”
“Yeah?” You whisper.
“Mhum. So proud.” He grins, the light of the room catching in the wetness covering him from nose to chin.
Eddie cuddles into you more and your eyes close. He’s exhausted you. You both lay there in silence, content in each other's presence. Eddie eventually falls asleep, his breathing slow and steady. You don’t have the heart or the energy to wake him. You stay awake, just barely, still in awe of what happened.
It feels like hours have gone by when you finally do shake Eddie, calling out to him softly. He stirs, grumbling as he looks up at you.
“Eds, baby, I need to lock up.”
He only rests his head back down between your breasts. You shake him again.
“Eddie.” You say it a bit more sternly. “Get up and I’ll let you take me back to yours.”
That gets his attention and he’s up and dressing himself in an instant. You on the other hand are slower, feeling the prominent ache between your legs. He has to help you pull your panties and jeans back on.
He has to help you close the store as well, your legs weak and not trusted to hold up your body weight without crumbling to the ground.
Never had you thought this was how this would end. Sitting in the passenger seat of your favorite camboy's car as he drives you to his apartment, grinning like the Cheshire cat as you both think of all the fun things you’ll get up to. Round two was bound to be wilder than the first.
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in the dead of night
in which spencer wakes up in the middle of the night with an overwhelming desire to feel you
18+ (smut)
warnings/tags: fem!reader, soft dom!spence (certified nereidprinc3ss classic), sub reader, fingering, piv sex, praise, overstimulation, cr**mp*e (god pls we need a new term)
a/n: this is probably THEE most self-indulgent thing i've ever written. but.... lowkey favorite smut i've posted thus far..... i'm such a sucker for disgustingly sleepy needy sex. just.... read it and u will see.... and as usual i love you!!! PLEASE tell me what you think!! MWAH
When Spencer got home around one in the morning, he’d been too dead on his feet to do anything more than get undressed, fall into bed, pull you close, and pass out. Now he’s slightly disoriented as he stirs, pinned between sleep and wakefulness as he realizes how you’ve curled into his side—your face is buried in his shoulder to the point where he’s concerned about your access to air—but each warm puff against his neck assures him you’re breathing alright. One arm is slung haphazardly over his shoulder and your top leg is wound around his. Without thinking, his hand cups the back of your thigh, stroking the bare skin where it presses against his hip. You’re never so soft as you are in sleep; plush, easy, gentle. Spencer realizes with some degree of frustration that he has to fuck you. That’s why he’s awake, and he condemned himself to the fate of it as soon as he touched you.
Sometimes the impracticality of sex becomes so apparent he resents his own mammalian, biological drive to reproduce. It was never like this before he met you. You reduce him to nothing more than a primate doomed to follow its basest instincts. You make him feel stupid.
God, he loves you.
It’s with this in mind he drops his head to kiss your shoulder—a gentle sort of wake up call, as his hand snakes further around to your inner thigh and he presses his lips to your ear.
“Baby?” he murmurs, kneading the smooth warmth of your leg. It doesn’t take much to wake you up. He thought after you’d been staying at his apartment on a semi-regular basis you’d begin to sleep through him getting up and coming home at odd hours, but if anything, you became more sensitive to the floor creaking or the mattress dipping.
“Hm?”
His fingers brush the fabric of your underwear. Your hips twitch.
“Is this okay?”
You inhale deeply, readjusting your arms around him and nodding into his chest.
“I need yes or no, angel.”
“Yes, please.”
The words aren’t desperate. They’re sleepy, mumbled, maybe even a little annoyed that he’s making you jump through hoops. The corner of his mouth twists in amusement at your perfunctory politeness and the way it poorly disguises your habitual impatience.
“Thank you,” he says, rewarding you with his fingers pushing between your folds through the fabric. You say nothing more as he unhurriedly rubs your clothed clit, but he feels the way your breath catches for a moment—before pouring out in one deep tide. He presses slightly harder, transitioning from passes to slow, tight circles that elicit the tiniest, sleepiest moans. This goes on for a while until your hips begin grinding in isolated circles, chasing his hand.
“Touch it,” you beg quietly. He can feel how damp you are through the fabric and realizes he was probably torturing you for several minutes, but sometimes he just gets so lost in touching you it becomes almost meditative. He pulls his hand away and snakes it between your bodies, sliding beneath your underwear and dragging his fingers over your puffy clit. You whimper but he quickly gets distracted when he realizes just how wet you actually are. Spencer sinks his fingers into you and moans lowly at the sound, rubbing at a spot deep inside you and rutting his palm against your clit rather than pumping his fingers.
“Breathe,” he reminds you when he realizes how still and silent you’ve gone. A small amount of air escapes in a tremulous little cry as your hips roll gently against his hand—whether to escape the sensation or get closer is unclear. “You’re all wet, baby. Were you touching yourself before I got home?”
“Mhm,” you hum weakly against him. “Couldn’t come.”
Spencer feels like he could finish at the thought alone—the nightly phone calls while he’s away occasionally devolve into desperate phone sex and he’s gotten off to the image of you playing with yourself in his bed on more than one occasion.
“We’ll make you come,” he promises, dragging his fingers from your soaked heat with bated breath.
He pushes your underwear down first, until you can kick it off your feet (you’ll have to search for it between tangled sheets tomorrow) and then his own, inhaling sharply through clenched teeth as his cock brushes your tummy. Spencer hoists your bent leg further up his body, exposing your cunt a little more and reaching underneath your thigh until he can guide himself between them.
The head of his cock pushes between your folds momentarily before he’s teasing your swollen clit, slipping the underside of his tip over it in lazy, noisy circles until you whine.
“Stop it,” you beg, voice still strained with sleep, “need it inside.”
“You’re right, baby, I’m sorry,” he croons, pressing his lips to your hair as he notches his cock at your dripping entrance and slowly begins to push in. “You’re being very patient—”
He cuts himself off as the two of you moan in filthy harmony. You’re so worked up for him, so defenseless in your half-unconscious state that he slips in with far less resistance than usual.
“Fuck, me,” he groans under his breath, hissing and bucking his hips when you tighten around him and cry out. He shuts his eyes and thinks of the Goncharov conjecture in an attempt to control himself; the i-th cohomology of the complex is isomorphic to the motivic cohomology group—and then he’s fine. He’s at least learned to stop rattling off mathematical paradoxes out loud during sex. “You okay?”
The only answer you have for him is an indecipherable whine that makes his chest ache. He rubs your thigh in sweet, soothing passes.
“I know, I’m sorry.” A thought occurs—he chuckles breathily, seeing stars as you throb around him. “You never let me in that easily.”
“Mm,” you squeak, gripping his shoulder hard enough that it aches and he truly couldn’t care less, “you feel good.”
He exhales shakily, pulling out slightly before grinding his hips even deeper into yours.
“Yeah? So do you, sweet girl.”
“Fuck,” you whimper, and he takes it as a sign that you’re ready to be fucked. Spencer’s not thinking about a whole lot as he withdraws all the way and you clench around him desperately—but somewhere in the back of his mind he’s realizing how much he loves your dirty mouth. When he was younger and dumber, he thought he’d prefer a girl who was soft-spoken and rarely (if ever) cursed. Now that he’s had you, he realizes how compelling and endearing the contrast of your soft voice is when you’re swearing like a marine.
“God, I missed you,” he breathes into your hair as he leisurely finds the right pace and you melt against him. “I missed how soft and wet you get for me,” Spencer admits gently, eyes screwed shut as he rambles from a place of profound affection and not at all thinking clearly, “and I missed how you cry when you need it so bad it hurts, and I missed how sweet you are when you let me fuck you right after I get home and you’re so tired, just like this. You’re always so good, honey, I don’t know what I did to deserve you—” You whine and clench so hard around him it becomes an effort to push back in, and he groans as he realizes you’re already coming. “Good girl, baby. Holy fuck.”
That last part is more so whispered to himself, but he can’t help it as he feels you painting his cock with your release. You’ve never come this quickly before, and he slips his arm beneath the crook of your knee, pulling up and granting himself more access to fuck you harder and faster. You moan brokenly, sinking your nails into his back.
“‘m sorry. That was—I didn’t mean to.”
“No,” he quickly assures you, breathing hard, “that was so good, baby. It was perfect. Don’t apologize.”
It seems the brief window between climax and over-stimulation has passed, and a gasp falls from your dropped jaw, arching into him as your body unconsciously tries to find relief from the sensation.
“Oh, god, Spencer, I—”
“You can take it, we’re getting close,” he promises. Not a demand, but meant as encouragement. “Do you think you can come for me one more time?”
“I don’t know,” you slur, the words rising to squeak.
“I think you can. Come on, show me how you were touching yourself earlier.”
You whimper, but slide your hand from his shoulder and push it between your bodies. A gasp accompanies the jolt of your muscles as you make contact with your clit, probably demanding too much of it. Soon, however, the conflicted mewls melt into a rhythmic string of delicate, short moans, so pretty it’s like a practiced song. Spencer’s brain, usually overflowing with words, is nothing but a void of swirling fog—each of your perfect sounds, a little burst of light. Soon he’s making noises of his own, which you obviously adore if the way you tense around him is any clue. Usually he sublimates them into words, but he’s too tired, and you feel too good. Your combined moans, along with the sound of him fucking you and the sheets moving over skin make for a truly dirty soundscape.
“Will you come inside me?” you beg breathlessly, and he can feel the movement of your hand speeding up as you get desperate. He sucks in a breath through his teeth at your plaintive request—the words bring him that much closer to finishing.
“Yeah, baby. I’m—fuck, I’m not going to last.”
“Spencer—” and somehow, when you say his name like that, he knows exactly what you want. He bows his head and finds your lips, mostly blind in the dark, kissing you messily until that split second where his grip on reality becomes tenuous before the building pressure finally bursts. Multicolored fireworks explode behind his eyes as he moans against your lips and continues fucking you through his orgasm in strong thrusts for as long as he can. Thankfully you finish again just as he’s running out of steam. He rubs the spasming muscles of your thigh deeply as you writhe against him in your typical push-pull style—you don’t know what you want and it’s his job to hold you still and make you take it. After a moment you quiet down, stilling in his arms except for the continued expansion and contraction of your lungs. “Oh my god,” you breathe. “I can’t believe I did that. That’s so embarrassing.” Spencer chuckles breathily—kisses your forehead with his eyes still shut and slips a hand under your shirt to rub your back.
“Why is it embarrassing? I liked it.”
“I have never—it’s never been so fast! It’s not supposed to be!”
“Why not?”
You huff.
“You’re the man. Men come too quickly. Not me.”
“I’m sorry you had to have two orgasms instead of one. Next time we’ll make sure you don’t come so we can even it out.”
You bury your face in his shoulder once more, immediately softening.
“No! I take it back.”
“I thought you might.” His hand slides down your back, squeezing your ass affectionately. “Let's rally. We need to clean you up, angel.”
The pillow muffles your voice as you say, “I can’t. I’m asleep.”
“Can I record you saying that for playback in the morning when you ask me why I let you go to sleep with my come inside of you?”
“Spencer, I am seriously not moving. You woke me up. This is not a me problem.”
That makes him laugh, and he presses his lips to yours softly. After a long moment of his mouth moving slowly against yours, a needy little whine rushes from your nose, and it becomes evident he’s successfully kissed the attitude from you.
“You were so good, honey,” he murmurs against your lips. Another (shorter) kiss. “Did so well. I’m proud of you, baby.”
A second soft whimper from you as you chase his lips and he gives in once, briefly—knowing he can’t make you get up after this. How could he do that to such a sweet girl when she’s obviously completely exhausted? Jesus, you have him whipped. He recognizes that. And he made peace with it a long time ago.
“Go back to sleep. I’ll clean you up.”
“Thank you,” you mumble, already slipping back into unconsciousness like you knew you’d get your way. Knowing your boyfriend, you probably did. “I love you.”
“I love you. Even though you’re a princess.”
You laugh.
Ten-ish minutes later, once he’s done the best he can cleaning you up and is throwing the covers back over both of you, you startle him slightly by speaking. He thought you’d been asleep.
“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” you sigh dreamily, snaking your arms around him once more. Spencer’s cheeks heat up at the memory of the praise he’d shamelessly lavished upon you not long ago. He’s glad you’re barely awake, because he’s too flustered to think of a response.
He loves it when you do that.
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nagi seishiro calls you mommy (fem & afab! reader)
18 + explicit, established relationship, breeding kink snuck in there, 1.8 k words
It starts off with you hating it.. he earns a scoff and a dry “I’m not your mother, seishiro nagi!”
It’s a joke then. It turns light-hearted and mischievous, a tool for teasing since you really do fuss over Nagi in a way that feels…y’know…motherly. He won’t mention it if you aren’t in the right mood. The doting. The acts of service. The ooey-gooey love you weave into every one of your touches…
Truly, at first, it‘s only teasing. You’ve got a tolerance built for that already—your skin’s grown thick with Sei’s dubious filter and deadpan joke delivery. So when he senses you can handle it, the nickname gets repeated.
A lazy “thanks mommy” falling from his lips when you hand him the phone charger he’d done an awful job searching for, swiping hair out of his face absentmindedly before you register his words. You pull your hand away fast when you do, groaning but giggling all the same. The following occurrence only earns a chuckle and a light shake of your head. The next time only a funny look.
You must dwell on the new title more than you let on though, because inbetween Nagi’s chest and his comforter one night, you bring it up.
Squeezing yourself as flush to his bare skin as possible, finger tracing his collarbone while your question comes in whisper:
“So…why do you keep calling me mommy?”
Seishiro’s half-asleep, so his answer comes out soft and heavy. “S’just how you act. And it’s pretty hot.”
You scoff, rolling onto your back in a fit of defiance. You don’t think you act motherly. Nagi’s quick to roll on top of you when you move, sticking to your chest like a magnet, clinging to your front and using your tits as a pillow—this position suits him just fine.
Once he’s nuzzled in for maximum comfort he yawns. “Are you mad at me?” He lifts an eyelid to peek at your face. “Didn’t think it bothered you that much.”
With a sigh your arms are around him, nails gently grazing his naked back the way you know he likes.
“No, I'm not mad. Just feels weird. No one’s ever called me that before and when you do it I can never tell if you’re making fun of me.”
He inhales a deep breath against your skin before he responds, lips dragging against your breast.
“Not making fun. I really do think ‘t’s hot.”
There’s a yawn and then a sleepy, open mouthed kiss on the soft skin above your nipple.
“really?”
“y’have no idea”
There’s a few more drowsy kisses to your chest then, before your nipple’s latched into Nagi’s greedy mouth, the other circled gently with his thumb. You whine, running fingers through his hair and tugging at his roots.
There’s a soft pop when he pulls away.
“do you?”
He squeezes your tits lazily in each palm while he asks, playing like they’re stress balls—such a regular occurrence it’s humorless by this point.
“Do I what?”
“Think it’s hot? Mommy?”
Your answer is a jagged sigh when he starts kissing his way around your other breast, glancing up to meet your gaze.
“Umm. I’m not—“
His eyes droop closed and Seishiro moans a bit when your other nipple is captured between his lips. You feel him grind slow against your thigh then.
Muffled: “Not?”
“Not sure…”
He pulls off of you then, looking at you with shockingly awake eyes for Seishiro Nagi past 10 pm on a weekday.
“Well. D’you wanna test it? See if you like it?”
You giggle. “How?”
He answers by crawling over your leg so his hips are slotted between your thighs. There’s a pause while he runs his signature vacant stare down your face before, without further segue, he meets your lips.
You smile into his kiss, loving the familiar Seishiro-nature of it all. His kisses are always languid and effortless, comfortable and often somewhat lazy, but you like them best that way. They feel comforting. Just like all his late night touches, so vulnerable and safe and raw it’s heartfelt.
This kiss takes little time to grow messy, licking inside each other’s mouths and eventually drooling till you’re needy and twitching around nothing, and Sei can’t seem to help but grind against your center.
Your eyes fly open when he does; he’s so hard.
Your lips separate then, catching your breath in ragged gulps of air while fingers run through Nagi’s hair, pulling bangs out of his face. He only grinds his boxers deeper into you.
“You’re gonna fuck me?”
Your voice is a whine while you lift your hips to meet his next movement, fingers clawing his back and his neck, careful not to dig nails in—classically gentle for him.
“Can I?” His tone is desperate in a special rare way—one he reserves for your ears late at night—while he lets his forehead rest on the pillow above your ear, the next buck of his hips slower and deeper.
You nod frantically, ripping down your panties before helping him tug at his boxers.
No time is wasted—it feels needy and rushed when Nagi sinks himself inside not a second later. You find yourself clinging onto his arms for support—he’s normally slower, a bit more careful with you since he’s so big, but it’s like he’s forgotten his size when he shoves past your entrance, gripping the flesh of your hip like a lifeline till he’s bottomed out. It's a good thing you’ve been dripping with anticipation for a while now.
There’s a beat of stillness when he does, silent except for shaky breaths, where you each do nothing but adjust.
Then Nagi is bending to his elbows, reaching an arm behind your back to snuggle himself close before fucking into you like he’s possessed.
There’s barely any build up before he’s moving like there’s lives on the line, rolling his hips hard and deep and moaning in your ear all the while.
You wanna tell him it’s too much but the most you can manage is an “Ah- Sei—“ before he’s squeezing one of your thighs up, reaching a new angle that has your words replaced with gasps.
He smears a kiss by your ear before answering in a whiny pant, “yes, mommy?”
Your closed eyes snap open at that, feeling fresh heat bloom in your tummy. Oh.
Your body starts grinding up to meet his hips without thinking while your arms wrap around Seishiro’s back, rubbing sloppy circles into his skin while he continues to absolutely ruin your pussy.
“You’re—“ you wrap the leg he was holding around him, “doing so-ngh good Sei.”
“Yeah? Doing good f’r you?” He pants, hopeful and boyish and cute.
You can only nod, squeezing him tighter with your leg as you approach your peak, Nagi clearly not far behind you as he drops his forehead to the pillow above your ear again, hugging you closer while somehow still fucking into you with the same frantic precision.
“‘Am I—nggh ‘m I a good boy then?” You clamp down at his words, earning a hiss.
“Y-your good boy?” He adds, almost whimpers.
“Uh-huh… You’re my- hah- good boy Sei.”
You cum then, making a high pitch noise at the relief of it, feeling Nagi fill you up a moment after. He doesn’t stop moving till you’re sensitive and sticky and full, his weight falling onto you in a heavy blanket once he’s done.
A lot of the time now is when Nagi’s eyes droop too much for anything further, he’s chronically sleepy after all. But when his face lifts to see yours, his expression is very much conscious. and adoring.
“Mmm Nagi?” You murmur his name like a caress, sweet as you can manage while pushing hair from his eyes for the millionth time.
“Mhm?”
“Want me to ride you?”
He nods fast.
By the time you’ve switched places and you’re easing down onto him, Nagi is starting to yawn again a little. His head is resting against the headboard, he’s relaxed. Because this is routine—you ride him all the time and it’s comfortable.
But while it’ll always be comfortable when it comes to nagi—the sex feels different right now—extra tender somehow. Tender but also filthy because your new name is still in the back of your mind as you’re split open, thinking about Nagi being your good boy again.
He is, of course, without trying. panting soft and pretty once you’re bouncing hips against him in earnest, warm hands squeezing at your sides to help guide you up and down.
You kiss his temple when he does, asking “How’s it feel, sweet boy?”
You curl your center forwards then, earning a jagged moan while Nagi’s breath catches in his throat.
“F-fuck- so good mommy. S’too good.”
You’re rolling now more than bouncing, slowing down to prolong the impending creampie… you want this feeling to last.
Your easier movements finally give nagi the potential for brain activity, letting him open his heavy eyelids to watch you work, running palms up to knead your tits.
“Such a pretty mommy.” He adds almost idly, tugging your nipples and bucking his hips when you tighten around him.
You can’t help but chuckle at his words, shy again somehow.
Through a yawn he asks, “does the sweet boy get a kiss?”
That makes you giggle even more before you’re leaning in, locking lips deep and sensual while Nagi starts to help guide you up and down his length again. Your mouths are quickly swapping spit and drooling as you find a rhythm that way, hitting a toe-curling sweet spot inside you over and over that has you crying out into Nagi’s mouth. He moves long fingers between you to lazily rub at your clit when he feels you’re getting close, thudding his head back against the headboard when you feel so good you can’t kiss him back anymore.
Soon you’re coming undone for the second time tonight around him, clamping down so tightly that nagi can’t help but cum with you, rolling the back of his head against the headboard with his eyes all scrunched, whines of ngh m-mommy as he does. You feel his hot cum fill you for the second time tonight then, pouring inside for even more than the first time it seems as you rub a soothing hand over Nagi’s chest and thumb over his cheek throughout.
With our further ado there’s a collapse, both of you remaining snuggled together while you try and adjust so you’re laying the right direction on your bed.
Yawning, your breathing finally begins to slow in his hold, pretty sure Sei’s already asleep.
But then he moves, adjusting so you’re both on your sides while he spoons you, a big palm falling over your lower belly, rubbing it a bit.
You try to sleep like that, but then you’re dwelling on the sticky mess that remains between your legs, and the spot that nagi keeps on rubbing beneath your belly button. Over your fucking womb.
Your eyes shoot open.
“Wait- Sei— you’re not thinking of actually making me—?”
You’re met with only a soft snore.
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