thoughts for thots!

college upperclassman suguru! who you noticed and recognized - you could never forget a guy as attractive as him. when he stopped you as you crossed paths, he struck up a conversation. his chilled demeanor made you feel swiftly at ease.

college upperclassman suguru! who’s attractiveness only increased when you came to find out how smart he is. his commentary about the world was insightful; deep, heavy. 

college upperclassman suguru! who’s convinced he’s met his angel. your soft smile, twinkling eyes and kind demeanor convinced him that good people do exist in the world he’s been habitually demeaning. 

college upperclassman suguru! who didn’t bat an eye when you revealed that you were the grade below him. as far as he was concerned, he was the one below you. 

college upperclassman suguru! who eventually is below you. long, thick fingers clamping down at your sides; you’re reenacting history by riding him until dawn. 

college upperclassman suguru! who tried so hard to be respectful. he didn’t want his his lustful desires to cloud your relationship. but despite his attempts, his dick couldn’t stop getting hard for you. 

college upperclassman suguru! who showed up to your apartment for a spontaneous late-night study session after he heard you spiral on the phone about your upcoming midterms. except, the only thing he seems to be studying now concerns the subject of your body; learning what makes you moan, what makes you wet.

college upperclassman suguru! who’d initiated this whole thing when you’d been sitting together on your bed. parallel from one another - you on your laptop - suguru reading his textbook, he’d glanced up, glanced up to see that in your criss crossed pose, the fabric of your shorts covering your undergarments had shifted to the side.

college upperclassman suguru! who’s unruly dick reacted with an immediate pulse. having always held himself to a level of moral superiority, you’re the push that made him fall from grace. his eyes remained fixed on the white cotton patterned with small red hearts - the sheer symbol of a heart being so irrefutably you, given how big yours is and how easily you’ve stolen his own. the fabric was a visual he wanted to remember when he jerked off to you later - an action he’d deemed necessary to silence his aching cock, though in part he secretly relished the depraved ideas he conceptualized. 

college upperclassman suguru! who saw that when you noticed his staring, you instinctively fixed your shorts. you chuckled as you emitted a soft ‘oh, sorry’. he watched as you changed your position so that your knees were upright and touching. 

college upperclassman suguru! who couldn’t stop himself from saying, in that even, dangerously composed yet playful tone of his; “you don’t need to apologize, angel. i liked the view.” 

college upperclassman suguru! who, while it didn’t reflect on his face, regretted the words when they left his mouth. but as his dark eyes monitored your reaction - your parted lips and widened eyes - his worries were quickly diluted once he realized that he’d flustered you in a good way; curiosity and interest mingling within your expressive gaze. 

college upperclassman suguru! who saw the silent plea for further direction that came from you. with a tilt of his head, he’d smiled and said, “would you mind showing it to me again?” after you shook your head, you spread your legs and revealed to him your underwear. his smile widened before he asked, “may i only look..or can i touch?”

college upperclassman suguru! who, after you provided clarity that he may do the latter, ran his long fingers over your panties; “how fitting..hearts for my sweetheart.” he’d caressed your heart covered cunt with the rhythm of a soothing tide; treating you with gentle sensuality. he’d marveled at how simple it was to excite you, “you’re so wet and i’ve barely done a thing..she’s so desperate for attention, isn’t she? my attention.” 

college upperclassman suguru! who didn’t waste any time. he pushed the pesky fabric of your panties to the side and dipped his fingertips in your slick. when he felt he had an ample amount, he brought your arousal to his lips and tasted you. he’d hummed in satisfaction, “mm..so good, angel. would you like a taste?”, when you said yes, he leaned in to kiss you; he kissed you slowly, thoroughly- until the juices from your cunt transferred onto your tongue and the skin of your lips. 

college upperclassman suguru! who’s cock is currently lodged allllll the way inside of you, his balls filled with cum that renders them just as heavy as his takes on reality. he’s guiding you, carrying you up and down his thick length. 

college upperclassman suguru! who can barely contain himself; who’s so close to cumming inside of you, “fuck, a perfect fit..a classically perfect fit…you’re perfect for me…my cock was meant for her, for your perfect fucking cunt..” 

college upperclassman suguru! who’s holding your hips with enough strength to leave handprints - marks that you welcome, which speaking of, he kisses your neck whilst he maintains your pace, muttering against your skin when you moan: “keep singing for me, angel..” 

college upperclassman suguru! who pulls out at the last possible second, finishing on your stomach the moment you orgasm. he pats his creamy tip against your sensitive clit, and it dawns on him that in favor of being responsible, he didn’t ride you through your orgasm! 

college upperclassman suguru! who can’t bear to conclude sex without ensuring that he gives you an absolutely seamless experience. he expresses his remorse; “ah..i’m sorry, angel. i got in my head, didn’t want to leave behind something irreversible, hm? why don’t we try this again? let me make it up to you? do it allll right this time..” 

college upperclassman suguru! who’s happy (and horny) beyond belief when you agree. as he fills you back up with his cock, the sensation is akin to a puzzle piece connecting with its rightful match. suguru, ever the romantic, remembers that today is february the fourteenth..so of course, amidst your gorgeous chorus of sounds, he has to say: “happy valentines day, angel.” 

college upperclassman suguru! who doesn’t formally ask you to be his valentine, because evidently - you already are. you have been for awhile now. between the fear of ruining what hasn’t ever been just a friendship and the charged glances that have confirmed as much; you two are parts of the same rose; you the petals, suguru its thorn stem - your pairing displays the beauty of love and the danger that comes with it. a match cultivated by nature’s hands; you truly are a match made in heaven. 

─୨ৎ──୨ৎ───୨ৎ───୨ৎ───୨ৎ──୨ৎ─

authors note: happy valentines day lovelies!! i was initially going to write two separate fics (this suguru one and then a vday one) but then i thought, why not combine them both?

anywhooo hopefully u find this as hot tamale as i do 🫶

“clark..what the hell happened..?” your voice is drenched in half-cognizant concern, your brows furrowed, you rub your eye with one of your hands as you stand in the doorway of the kitchen; standing in nothing but your sleepwear and pink slippers

“uh..more like what didn’t happen,” he chuckles awkwardly, turning off the stoves burner before swiping one the towels from where it’d been hanging on the handle of your apartment’s dishwasher 

he fans the smoke infested area, before muttering a small yet cheery ‘excuse me’ as he scoots past you to open your balcony’s screen door to let in some fresh air 

“what..?” you stand there, regaining a bit more consciousness as you begin to take in your surroundings

your boyfriend stands before you; wearing an apron; a white apron with small blue and red hearts - the apron you bought for him because you thought it matched his superhero getup perfectly 

never mind that they’re fourth of july colors that were indeed color coordinated with the intention to be; a condition made evident based on the fact that you stumbled upon said apron in the fourth of july sales section

nevertheless, the event the apron’s creation was meant to celebrate is one you decided to omit - because if independence day is meant to commemorate freedom then you have the freedom to ignore the origin of a capitalistically marketed apron!  

and you’re so glad that you did - because admittedly, clark wears it like a glove; the apron just tight enough to strain against his muscular build...

functional for cooking and eye candy..it was a good purchase!

you snap yourself out of your momentary admiration when clark chuckles again, scratching his head, a regretful smile plastered onto his perfectly chiseled face 

“i’m sorry baby, i wanted you to wake up to a much better sight than this. i was going to bring you food, the classic breakfast in bed..and it was all coming together until well..” 

he glances at the charred, thin slab of pork on the skillet

“..the preparation of the pig.” his voice comes out solemnly, his arms crossing over his chest as though genuinely disappointed - because he is; disappointed in himself - but also the slightest bit disgusted that he wasted what otherwise could’ve been consumed 

clark’s regard for the wellbeing of lifeforms renders him delicate hearted when it comes to agricultural slaughter, hence why he’s especially keen on limiting the amount of waste that comes from the purchasing of animal products 

you can’t help but smile, both at the display of his familiar empathy and at the knowledge that he’d been crafting this gesture for you 

“it’s okay! i think it’s very sweet that you wanted to do this, that’s a great thing to wake up to on its own.” you say encouragingly before glancing at the fluffy eggs in a separate pot

“we can still enjoy your meal! those eggs smell divine.” 

clark smiles back before correcting you, “our meal, but yes..” 

he lowers his arms before reaching for you, pulling you by the waist one handed, your body now in close proximity to his 

“you’re right. we can salvage this.” 

he kisses your forehead before proclaiming, “but i want your involvement to be as minimal as possible. this was ultimately meant to be breakfast for you and i want to treat you, honey.” 

“aw, clark..” you beam before agreeing, “alright. i promise, i’ll be virtually hands off chef kent!” you raise your palms in motion to surrender; as if you had any inclination to fight at all 

his eyes twinkle, “awesome sauce! well..in that case..” 

without another word, clarks other hand falls on the opposing side of your waist before he scoots both palms down to hold onto the backs of your thighs 

he squats slightly; picking you up effortlessly; your legs wrapped around his waist, arms wrapped around his neck; he carries you to the counter, propping you right in the middle of the spices on either side of you 

“a perfect perch for my perfect assistant.” he grins fondly, giving you an affectionate kiss on the cheek 

he gets back to cooking, determined to rectify his previous failure by ensuring to provide you with a meal as satisfactory as he hopes his company to be 

as you watch your boyfriend move about the small space, multitasking whilst talking to you; asking you questions and conversing with you in the meantime, you feel a prominent sense of endearment overtake your senses 

when the right moment approaches - when he’s in front of you, you silence his sentence with a kiss

he returns your kiss; sensual and slow before smiling to murmur, “while i hate that i fudged up breakfast, i love that it led to me seeing you sooner.” 

his voice is plush; his tone a mattress you could sink into - one that you could cuddle 

he looks at you for a couple seconds; the sheer affection in his eyes unmissable as he follows up with,

“i love you.” 

he says the three worded phrase with a  degree of ease that could almost undermine its depth 

they’re words you could and will never doubt that he means 

because clark kent loves you

he loves you in the silliest, dorkiest, sexiest ways possible 

from trying and failing to make you breakfast in bed, to kissing you reverently

he loves you; he loves you with an intensity that not even the sun could outshine 

and it is during fleeting yet everlasting instances such as these that you hold immense appreciation for him

for day in and day out; he may be the world’s superman, but to you - he’s just a man 

a man who is madly in love with a woman,  who in his perception? holds far greater power over him than any kryptonite ever could 

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

authors note: i hope this makes you smile :) i love clark ughhh superman?? no that’s my dorky man!!! btw did you peep how i make the title red, the divider white and his name blue?? i thought that was clever lol 😭😭

stay tuned for a suguru fic soon…muahaha >:)

“so, you said something ‘bout a leak?” he verifies, tilting his head 

you nod, opening the door further as you move to stand aside, “yes! um, i noticed it a couple days ago but i couldn’t figure it out.” 

he hums in acknowledgment as he steps inside, “not to worry, m’sure i’ll have a better shot at it, nah, i know i will, and you do too; s’why you hit me up, right?” 

his tone is smug - arrogance spoken in a deep timbre that makes your pussy wanna say hello too

“yeah..precisely.” you concede with a light chuckle as you lead him into the kitchen 

toji - living up to his sleazy nature - checks you out unabashedly

you’re wearing a black pajama set lined with white thread 

elegant and sultry; the shorts ride up just enough to give him a glimpse of your ass, whilst the top is just thin enough for him to see the shape of your breasts beneath the fabric

you stand in front of your sink, sighing, “here’s where the problem is. every time i try to turn the faucet on..” 

you demonstrate, turning the lever - toji watches with rapt attention; noticing how no water comes out of the faucet itself, though the sound of a stream can be heard

“..that happens.” you push the lever back to the side, silencing the stream

toji hums before crouching; setting his toolbox down beside him with a thud

he opens the cabinet underneath your sink and peaks his head inside 

“seems like there’s blockage in one of yer’ pipes, the main one that’s supposed to spew out the water.” 

he tuts his tongue, rising back to his feet

he crosses his arms over his chest and shakes his head 

“it’s gonna be a time consuming job; tryna unblock this, and time is money doll.” 

he looks at you - dark eyes studying you intently - a look you’d deem serious, if not for twitch of his lip; the scar across it rising along with the motion 

you sigh deeply, “how much?” 

“depends. how much you got?” 

greedy bastard 

you raise a brow, mimicking him by crossing your arms as well, “i’m in college, how much do you think i got?” 

toji chuckles, “alright. how ‘bout this, i’ll charge ya half the rate today and half of it can be paid back some other time.” 

you nod cautiously, “..okay..so how much are you charging me today?” 

toji hums, as if he’s thinking up a price on the spot; “five hundred.” 

your eyes widen a bit, “so the full price is one thousand? just to unblock a pipe?” 

he grins before echoing his former phrase, “time is money, now does that work for you or not?” 

although you had no knowledge of what the standard pricing in his industry was, you felt like you were being totally overcharged 

or maybe it only feels that way because you’re broke 

either way, you sigh for the third time: “yes, yes it does.” 

“great. alright,” he crouches back down, “you can watch if ya want, keep me company..might help the work go by faster.” he offers, flashing you a toothy grin 

you shrug before propping yourself up on the counter, legs behind the cabinet door he just opened 

because honestly? even if he hadn’t asked, you probably would’ve snuck glances at him in secret anyway, so his offer is kinda like a dream come true

as toji works, you spend the time observing how his behavior affects his features

you notice that when he moves a certain way, his bicep tightens; or how when he’s concentrating, his brows furrow; and how when he seems to get tired, he does a little shake with his head to re-orient himself 

you notice the little things, which is ironic; considering that toji is far from 

your mind can’t help but wander and wonder what it would be like to climb him; because you certainly could 

he’s essentially a large statue in comparison to you; like the kinds you’d find in a museum 

intrusively, you’ve always wanted to climb those statues for fun; but with toji? the kind of fun you’d be looking for would be less than wholesome 

ugh, you sound like a man; imagining him like this 

you internally snap yourself out of your thoughts

little do you know that toji - seemingly productive toji - has been imagining the same things about you too 

his mind has wandered and has been actively wondering what it’d be like to have those model-like legs of yours held up against his broad shoulders, how your tits would feel under his rough palms; whether you’d be into him pinching those nipples of yours that are poking against your cute pajama shirt 

wait 

your nipples are perked up and it’s not cold in your kitchen at all

toji - who’s been looking at you whilst you’ve zoned out, has his eyes fixated on your chest 

just before your attention snaps back to him, he looks away and grunts; trying to calm the self made erection that’s spiked now that he’s considered the possibility that perhaps he’s turned you on - or at the very least, that you’ve been ogling him the same way he’s been ogling you 

he’s unaware that both are true 

toji clears his throat, setting his wrench back down into his toolbox

he pours water from his water bottle onto the small grey towel he brought with him and wipes his hands before spraying them with hand sanitizer 

he rubs his hands together as he stands, “think you could get me some water doll? i don’t drink the one i use for cleaning.” 

you nod, sliding off the counter, you open the fridge and take out a bottle of water 

you hand him the bottle, “here you go!” 

your fingers brush as he takes it from you

“thanks pretty girl.”  

pretty girl

your insides turn to mush 

toji takes a sip of the water before grinning; his lips flushed with color due to the chilled liquid 

“you like that?” he asks before stepping closer, setting the bottle down on the counter with intention 

“s’true. you are pretty..”

you gulp, looking up at him; you can’t believe this is happening - if anything is or will happen at all 

toji laughs lightly, his hand rising, slow enough for you to pull away - when you don’t, he cups the side of your face 

is he making a move on you? 

oh god, are your lips soft? they were kind of chapped earlier, but you applied some chapstick before toji came over so hopefully- 

toji’s thumb brushes over your bottom lip, his fingerprint; rough, feels jagged against your smooth skin 

seems like the chapstick worked 

“pretty girl with pretty lips, so kissable.” 

your eyes widen, glossing over with a mesmerization that signifies to him that this may not happen often for you; information that puzzles him yet fuels his arousal as he sits with the thought that if this doesn’t in fact happen often for you, he can show you how it should go and how it should feel 

“wanna try them out; wanna try you out doll. is that okay?” 

“more than okay.” you respond 

toji smirks before leaning in and kissing you, the kiss is slow at first - he acquaints himself with you - he allows you to acquaint yourself with him 

and once he does - once you do 

he gets greedy - demonstrating that this quality of his applies to aspects of his life that aren’t financial 

his big hand rests on your waist, pulling your body against his as his other hand threads in your hair 

he breaks the kiss, tugging on your hair to murmur, “you taste like mangos, my favorite fruit. 

his voice is low, having dropped to something evidently horny 

“bet your pussy tastes just as sweet.” 

his eyes flash with something just a tad bit feral,  “you gonna let me try that too doll?” 

you nod, “yes.” 

yes 

yes

“yes! ohmygod, toji-!” 

your agreement had led to you being bent over the same counter you were previously sitting on, your shorts tugged down, panties ripped off; seven inches of girth thrusting in and out of you 

“fuck, sound so fuckin’ pretty, everything about ya is ain’t it?” 

you can only reply with a moan, your nails dragging against the counter, face pressed against it; the coolness of the surface doing little to dull the fire inside of you 

“so goddamn vocal..” he chuckles before pulling out abruptly, his cock glossed over with your slick; your cunt clenches around nothing

you whine in response, wiggling your ass to coax him into reentrance 

his big hands, which had been planted on either side of your hips, tighten their grip, one of them lifting to slap one of your cheeks 

“patience, m’just taking a moment to admire ya. i’ll stuff you soon enough.” 

one of his hands leaves your hips to dip in between your thighs, his middle finger flicks at your clit; it twitches against him 

he huffs, sporting a grin you already know he’s wearing without needing to turn around and see it 

his finger drags up from your clit along your slit; “came here to fix a leak, ended up causing another one instead, huh? look at how much you’re dripping for me baby. call me here cause you wanted to repair your sink or destroy this pussy?”

when the next whine you emit sounds more like a whimper, toji grants you his mercy, “alright, alright..no need to whine sweetheart..” 

the fat tip of his dick emerges past your pussy lips, but he doesn’t fully push in yet

his hand which had been toying with your pussy positions itself flat against your lower back 

“..i’m here.” he punctuates the sentence with a thrust that sheathes all of him back inside you 

you cry out, fingers curling against the countertop; “ah, toji!” 

he resumes his quick, rough pace; the sound of skin slapping against skin making you feel like you’re in a porno rather than at home 

which to be fair, the whole setup and dynamic of this could easily classify as one 

“drenched, fuckin’ drenched..want me to make you messier? huh? want me to come inside you? have you feel me even after i’m out of ya?” 

you moan, nodding weakly against the counter, “yes! yes..!” 

he smirks, “that’s my pretty girl, my pretty girl with her pretty pussy..” 

“tojiiii…! tojiiii..i need to..m’gonna..!” 

“come, come for me. make me messy too, doll.” 

you do - oh you do, without you processing it; as you orgasm you squirt on him; your juices splattering his uniform

“shit..there ya go..” his pace slows as he rides you through your high, and as you flutter around him, he buries himself to the hilt; his palm pressing down with more weight onto your lower back, his other hand gripping the flesh of your hip 

you can feel each and every spurt of him travel into your body, and when he pulls out leisurely, he waits until he sees a creamy bead of cum start to seep out of your pussy; like the center of melted chocolate in a freshly cut lava cake 

“sticky and sweet..you’re a whole ass dessert, huh?” 

as your chest rises and falls, toji’s hands leave you

he crouches down, his breath a tickle against your hot pussy when he speaks, “guess i better clean you up now..oh, and don’t worry ‘bout paying me today doll..think i got something else i want from ya now.” 

it’s safe to say that his services received a glowing rating in your yelp review later that night, and that toji’s business contact wasn’t strictly used for business by you anymore 

after all, he’s still a handyman, and you still had leaks he needed to fix!

…just none that came from any appliances that day forward 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

authors note: AHHHH THIS WAS SOOO FUN TO WRITE!! I LOVE TOJI!! beefy men have my heart and my poom poom too 😝😝 handyman! toji has been on my mindddd and i needed to realize him in written form 😩 hopefully you guys think i did him justice ;)

you came into jason’s life unexpectedly; like a wildfire, you set aflame the barren soil and bark from which he was constituted of 

upon the first spark; he found himself content to burn, to be your kindling 

the initial contact between the two of you hurt

it hurt to be wanted, it hurt to be seen, it hurt to be heard 

because once you heard him, once he heard you 

your voice had unintentionally became the sound of the speaker in his mind

in talking to himself, he found himself talking to you 

he found himself preferring to talk to you 

preferring to abandon his solitude to bask in your company 

his initial instinct was to extinguish this 

but instead 

he chose to let you consume him

until the pain numbed 

until his nerves became used to it

used to you 

now, watching you make hot chocolate in your shared kitchen, his heart can’t help but constrict in his chest at the notion that he may even regard it as shared in the first place 

he walks up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his face into the crook of your neck, he inhales your scent 

“smells good.” he compliments, voice gravelly with its usual nighttime grogginess

you chuckle, “it does! it’ll smell even better once i mix these marshmallows in.” 

“wasn’t talking about the cocoa..but..that smells nice too.” 

he smiles against your skin, pressing a soft, feather light kiss to your pulse point

you feel warmth radiate from the furnace in your stomach and you haven’t even had the first sip of your beverage yet 

“why thank you..” you respond with a weightless giggle

your giggle

your laugh

it comes so easy to you 

just as it comes so easy to him to commit each sound you make to memory 

he lifts his face, just enough to press another kiss to your cheek this time

he gently loosens his grip around your waist, stepping back marginally before turning you around 

you allow yourself to be spun 

to be turned to face him 

you allow yourself to face him and he allows himself to let you 

his hand is rough yet charged with something unmistakably gentle as he cups the side of your face, his thumb brushing over the apple of your cheek 

you lean into his touch 

“ever since you came into my life, nothing tastes the same anymore.” 

he smiles, the expression contorted from a place of quiet acceptance 

“not even cocoa?” you quip, though your voice matches his tranquil energy; your subconscious aware of the bubble surrounding you both in this moment 

he chuckles, “not even cocoa. nothing sweet sits on my tastebuds the way it did before, no sugar could ever give me the same energy that you do.” 

your smile widens, the furnace inside you stoked by his romantic admission 

jason presses a kiss to your forehead, his eyes fluttering shut as he does so; the press of his lips lingers before he breaks away to murmur against your skin 

“just like sugar, you made me crash..crash into something i haven’t been brave enough to have in a real long time,”

you look up at him, silently inquiring for clarification 

his gaze, serene and filled with affection, meets yours before answering

“hope.” 

the word leaves his lips like a vow - its a word that’s utterance reveals his state of mind; strips him bare; confirms that you have stripped him bare 

for jason todds arid environment is no longer; the wildfire you set having led to a complete deforestation 

the trees that once stood tall, have dropped their acorns 

acorns that are reactive only to fire; for fire induces them to release their seeds 

seeds that lead to replanting

seeds that lead to regrowing 

seeds that lead to rebirth 

seeds that you helped plant 

seeds that’s thirst will be quenched not with water contaminated by doubt, but water enriched with minerals key in sustaining life 

a new life

one made possible because of you 

in upending his entire existence, you’ve consequently awarded jason todd the comfortability to dream 

═══════════════════════════════

“mm..” you hum, squinting your eyes as if deliberating whether or not he deserves it; deserves you 

“please.” he repeats, his voice a gentle whisper asking - no - urging you to let up 

“please let me taste you.” he pleads, maintaining his soft prose - he never yells, never demands, he knows better than to do that

the corner of your lip can’t help but twitch upward, “alright.” 

you relent, your hand running through his hair, giving it a gentle tug; you part your thighs further apart, cunt glistening with the arousal he’s been starving to taste 

“go on.” you direct, your tone matter-of-fact - your allowance is one he soaks up, because the fact that he’s even permitted to touch you at all? 

that’s made him cum in his pants more times than he can count 

“thank you.” he whispers, an evident hint of appreciation and relief meshed into his voice before he kisses your clit; starting from the top and working his way down, his lips are soft against..well, your other lips 

you hum, the sound a signification of encouragement for him to keep going 

and he does 

he licks your clit - once - a fleeting flick that then turns into a continuous rhythm; fast, the tip of his tongue applies direct pressure to where your most sensitive 

choso knows your body well; you’ve trained him to, and oh if he hasn’t been a receptive participant 

you moan, your fingers curling into his hair as you subconsciously press his face forward into your cunt, “don’t stop..fuck cho..keep going..” 

he obliges, maintaining the lap of his tongue before sliding the flesh inside of you, tasting you straight from the inside; his chin collects sheen; your body’s form of glitter

he alternates the position of his tongue, giving equal attention to your clit before delving back inside your warm, syrupy walls 

his cock is throbbing beneath his sweatpants and the only way he’ll get to cum is if you do

because choso kamo only has one kink and that’s pleasing you 

a mutualistic relationship; one that you lead and he follows, he’s under your well manicured thumb and you both know it 

“cho..choso..god..i-i’m..” 

he’s motivated - driven to bring you past the edge, an edge he’ll gladly walk off with you if you let him 

because permission isn’t a guarantee - it’s a privilege - one that he needs to work for - one that you need to give him 

as he eats you out, his hands rise from where they’d been stationary in his lap - they hover over your thighs

your attention; largely consumed by your feeling of pleasure, barely notices the gesture - when you do, you realize he’s asking if he can touch you 

you nod, “yes..yes cho..you can. you can touch me, you’re allowed.” 

god that goes straight to his dick - but he must remained focused! 

his hands gently land on your thighs, his fingers press into the flesh - using your skin to support himself, his nose brushes against your clit; an intentional stimulant meant to compensate for his occupied tongue as it’s currently housed in your pussy 

your next inhale is soft, a measured quick intake of air - your fingers tighten their hold on his tresses 

you come

a wave of warmth exits your body accordingly; his tongue dutifully consuming every last drop 

as you overcome your high, you loosen your grip, opting to run your fingers through his hair; a caress - an indication of a job well done 

he presses one final kiss to your clit before detaching himself, looking up at you, his expression vulnerable - a sensitive soul, he needs to hear the words from your lips 

you smile, giving him exactly what he requires; “that was so good..you made me feel so good choso..”

he smiles back

when your eyes dart further down, you notice the tent in his pants has yet to recede

your brows knit, “cho..you..you’re still-“ 

“you didn’t give me permission to.” he says simply, the words a bold reminder that yeah..