◑. 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝙽𝚎𝚛𝚍!𝚌𝚑𝚘 𝚡 𝚃𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛
◑. 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: 𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚕 (𝚏𝚎𝚖 + 𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚌), 𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚑 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚘, 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚢 𝚍𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚔 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚘, 𝚙𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚌 𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚕(𝚖! 𝚁𝚎𝚌), 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚘, 𝚌𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚘, 𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚘( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), 𝚜𝚞𝚋!𝚌𝚑𝚘, 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚍𝚘𝚖! 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙, 𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚗 + 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚘𝚝, 𝙱𝚒𝚛𝚍!𝚌𝚑𝚘 (𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝, 𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝)
✰✰✰: 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜➯ audio 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚘𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚔. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚒𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚞𝚍𝚒𝚘 𝚋𝚝𝚠.
No matter how many times people around Choso told him he deserved better, that you weren’t worth it, that you were toxic, no matter how many times he was warned, Choso never seemed to listen. He’d always find his way back to you, or rather back between your thighs. Licking and sucking and whimpering as he ate you out.
Just yesterday he worked up the courage to timidly tell you he was done, that he didn’t want to be treated like that anymore. He’d asked to be your boyfriend and you’d convinced him labels didn’t matter matter. He knew you’d used him to pass your exams just so your dad wouldn’t get on your back.
When you answered with a simple “no” it took him completely by surprise. He hadn’t expected that, and he hadn’t expected to just accept it either. He just pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and nodded with his head bowed low.
Now here he was between your thighs, tongue lapping desperately at your clit. Your slick coats the lower half of his face. His nose nudges gently against you, his glasses heavily fogged up. One hand holds your leg slightly open while the other brushes softly over you every so often, keeping you right where he wants you.
He doesn’t rush for even a second. He knows exactly what makes you gasp and what makes you arch your back off the mattress. He drinks every little sound you make like it’s something precious, soft desperate whimpers falling from his own throat against your skin. He’s completely devoted to this moment, completely devoted to you.
His fingers dig gently into your thigh, holding you steady as he works, his breathing hot and heavy against you. The fog on his glasses only gets thicker but he doesn’t stop to wipe them away. He doesn’t care about anything else right now. He just wants to make you feel good, wants to be the one you come to when you need something, even if it’s only ever this.
When your fingers twist tight in his hair and your hips lift to meet his mouth he hums deep and happy, like this is all he ever needed in the world. He’d walk through fire just to be here, and every warning everyone ever gave him vanishes completely the second you let out that shaky breath and say his name.
“Choso—” you gasp, fingers tightening hard in his hair. You use his face exactly how you want, jerking your hips up slow and steady against his tongue. He lets you take full control, melting completely under your touch. He doesn’t pull away or complain, just presses closer, whimpering soft against your skin as you grind right where you need him most. He’d let you do absolutely anything to him right now.
You smile down at him drunk on pleasure. “Mmm Choso you’re so good.” You moan through gritted teeth rolling your hips harder right against his mouth. Choso whines loud and broken, no words just pure desperate sound.
He knows he is never leaving you. Not ever. Nothing anyone says will ever change that. You need him and he needs you just as bad. Worse even.
He pushes his tongue deep inside you, working you slow and rough all at once. Tears spill hot and fast from his eyes, tracking down his cheeks mixing with your slick. He doesn’t care that he is crying. He is so overwhelmed by how much he wants you, how much he loves you it hurts. He eats you out like he’s starving, like you are the only thing keeping him alive. He sobs soft against your skin, shaking all over, begging without words for you to use him as much as you want. He’ll take every single thing you give him and thank you for it too. He’s yours completely. Every broken messy part of him belongs only to you.
He pulls back and you let him. He spits onto your swollen, sensitive pussy that has already taken so many orgasms. He watches as it glide down and mixes with your slick before he pushes it back inside with his tongue. Then he draws your throbbing clit right back into his mouth and sucks hard. “You’re doing so well sweetheart.” You moan loud and breathless. Choso is an eater through and through. That is just one more reason you will never let him go. Ever.
He lifts a hand to take off his fogged glasses so he can see your face when you cum undone on him but you stop him. “Keep it on.” He pulls away just enough to speak and you whine at the loss of warmth as the cool air hits your skin. “I wanna look at you but I can’t see you.” He mutters soft and shy. The glasses sit crooked on his flushed face, completely misted over. His pink lips are shiny and wet, covered in your arousal and his own tears.
You loosen your grip on his hair and nod slowly. “Fine. Go ahead.” He gives a shaky little sigh of relief, fingers trembling as he pulls the glasses off. He wipes the fog and tears away on the back of his sleeve then slides them carefully back onto his nose.
He leans right back in without wasting another second, diving between your legs again like he never left. He works you harder now, tongue thrusting deep and fast, sucking so firm your whole body jerks. He whines quietly against your skin every time you gasp his name, every time your hips grind hard into his face. He doesn’t even wipe the tears or your slick off his chin. He’s messy and desperate and completely yours.
When your legs lock tight around his head and you cry out his name over and over he doesn’t stop. He keeps going through every wave of your high, drinking every drop you give him, whimpering loud like he’s the one falling apart. He’d suffocate right here between your legs and die happy. Nothing matters but you. Never anything else.
Finally you cum on his tongue and he laps at every single drop and swallows. You wipe the sweat on his forehead and give him a small smile your eyes slowly giving out from the amazing orgasms you just received.
Choso slowly climbs up your body. His thick biceps cage you in as one large veiny hand cups your face. He pulls you in for a filthy kiss, letting you taste yourself right on his lips.
You can taste the salt of his tears mixing right in with your own sweetness as he presses his lips hard to yours. His cheeks burn bright red, blush spreading all the way down his neck. He’s so flustered and so happy he can barely breathe. He keeps kissing you slow and messy, too shy to pull away but too greedy to stop. Every shaky little whimper still rumbles in his chest, his face hot against your skin, completely undone just from being close to you.
He rests his forehead gently against yours, chest heaving soft and fast against you. His fingers brush slow over your cheek, still trembling a little. “I… I love you so much,” he whispers, voice thick and wobbly with leftover tears. His cheeks stay burning bright, flushed all the way down to his shoulders.
He pulls back carefully then he grabs a soft warm cloth from the bathroom and kneels back between your legs. He wipes you gentle and slow, being so careful not to hurt your sensitive skin. His face stays hot the whole time, eyes soft and full of adoration. He folds the cloth neatly when he is done then climbs back beside you, pulling you close against his chest.
The next day on campus Choso spots you sitting on a bench. Just as he steps forward to come over one of the football players slings an arm casually over your shoulder.
Choso freezes in his tracks. His hands clench tight at his sides, knuckles turning white. He watches the guy lean in close, saying something that makes you laugh. His chest feels tight and heavy, but he doesn’t step in. He knows he has no right to. He isn’t your boyfriend after all. So he turns and walks away quietly, heart sinking all the way down to his stomach.
He walks into the library and picks a quiet, hidden spot away from everyone else. He knows he is already upset and doesn’t want anyone to see him get emotional.
He waits for thirty whole minutes and starts thinking about leaving. You were supposed to meet him here for tutoring. He had even walked over to get you first, until he saw you sitting with that football player. Just as he reaches for his bag you turn the corner. “Where y’ going?” you ask, glancing at the books in his hand before walking over and sitting right beside him, looking up at his face.
With the way you look up at him through your thick lashes he can’t bring himself to say what he really feels. He doesn’t want to admit he was about to walk out, or that he is stung by you being late, or how much that moment with the football player still sits heavy in his chest. He sinks back down into his seat and gives a small shake of his head. “Nowhere.”
“Alright. Shall we get started?” You pull a pen from your bag along with your iPad, already ready to take notes.
But you don’t miss it. You notice how quiet he is, how he won’t quite meet your eyes the way he usually does. His jaw is set tight, his shoulders stiff instead of soft and relaxed like they always are around you. He pushes his glasses up his nose twice in one minute, a little tell he only does when he is holding something back. He slides the worksheets across the table without his usual gentle smile, his fingers brushing yours for barely a second before he pulls his hand away fast.
“You’re acting weird,” you say flatly, resting your pen down instead of opening your notes. “And you’re annoyed. What’s wrong?”
He freezes for a moment, like he hoped you wouldn’t catch on. He stares at the page in front of him, voice low and careful. “Nothing. Let’s just work.” But you know him better than that.
You lean forward a little, watching the way his throat bobs when he swallows, the faint pink that creeps up his neck—embarrassed that his feelings show so easily, frustrated that he can’t just brush it off like he wants to. He’s trying so hard to be good, to not make a fuss, but you can see right through every bit of it.
He’s hurt, and he’s mad, and he has no idea how to say any of it without sounding like he has no right to feel that way at all.
You slide your hand down his thigh. He can feel every bit of your warmth through his sweatpants and his skin burns hotter by the second. You lean over the table bringing your face close to his watching every little shift in his expression. “What’s wrong hmm?” you ask softly. He hates how easily you break through every wall he tries to put up. He hates that you always know exactly how to make him fold.
His breath hitches sharp and quiet. He stares down at your hand resting heavy on his leg, cheeks flushing bright red all the way to the tips of his ears.
“It’s nothing,” he mumbles but his voice shakes. He shifts in his seat like he’s trying to get comfortable but there is no hiding how much you affect him.
His fingers twist tight in the hem of his shirt. He feels stupid for being jealous, stupid for caring this much when he has no real claim over you.
But you know exactly what you are doing. You know one little touch is all it takes to make him spill every single thing he feels.
“I just… saw you earlier. With him.” He forces the words out slow like they hurt to say.
You could almost laugh at his silly assumptions. As if you’d ever go for some football dude. You’re already toxic as it is. Why would you add another headache into the equation.
You smile a little at how clearly jealous he is. You think for a moment then cup his face and turn it toward you so he has to meet your eyes. “Can I show you something?”
He nods slowly, looking unsure. You glance around to make sure no one is watching then sink down to your knees right between his wide open legs.
You rest your hands gently on his knees and tilt your head up at him with a calm little look. “Relax. No one’s coming.”
You hook your fingers lightly into the waistband of his sweatpants, moving slow and steady so he can feel every second of it. He sucks in a sharp breath that he tries hard to keep quiet, his knuckles turning white where he grips the edge of the table. His eyes dart quickly toward the aisle then right back down to you, chest rising and falling fast.
He’s shaking just a little bit from nerves, face burning bright red all the way down his neck. He keeps glancing around like he’s expecting someone to walk around the corner any second. But he doesn’t shift his legs away. He doesn’t tell you to stop. He even lets his knees fall just a little wider without thinking about it, giving you all the space you need.
He feels so stupid for being this nervous, so exposed sitting right out in the open like this. But when you look up at him with those eyes he knows he can’t say no. He’d let you do absolutely anything right now. He’d risk getting caught just to feel your hands on him. “Just… be quick please…”
You pull his sweatpants down along with his boxers. His thick veiny cock springs out fully hard, the tip flushed a blushing pink. It looks so pretty you can’t help but stare.
You grin like a child at a candy store. “Choso it’s so pretty,” you murmur quiet enough only he can hear. He covers his face with one hand completely flustered then drops it back down to grip tight at your other hand resting on his thigh. “Than—” he starts to say but your thumb brushes lightly over that sensitive tip. He jumps a little and a shaky whimper tumbles right out of his mouth before he can stop it.
You spread the clear pre-cum around his tip with your thumb, watching every little twitch and shiver run through him. He is already falling apart just from your touch. Then you lean in and drag a slow wet stripe right up the length of him.
You take him deep into your mouth all at once, swallowing him down until your nose brushes against his skin. He chokes back a loud moan, hand fisting tight in your hair, hips jerking up sharp and desperate. He bites down hard on his own knuckle to keep quiet, tears pricking his eyes from how good it feels.
You suck him hard and messy, swirling your tongue around his sensitive tip every time you pull back. You hum low around him and he shudders so hard the whole table shakes just a little. “Fuck—fuck please—” he whimpers quiet, voice cracking completely. He can barely breathe, can barely think about anything but the wet heat of your mouth taking every inch of him like you were made just for this.
You look up at him through your lashes while you work him and you see his head pushed back while his arm is slung over his face. He’s a mess above you, face burning bright red, sweat beading on his forehead, legs shaking uncontrollably. He’s so desperate, too far gone to care about getting caught. He’d let you ruin him right here in the library and thank you for it.
He brushes your hair gently away from your face without looking and guides you slow, letting you take him in and out of your mouth at your own pace. It is messy and filthy, thick spit coating him completely, dripping down his length and onto his thighs.
He’s barely holding back loud broken moans, hips stuttering shallowly into your mouth, fingers tangling soft but tight in your hair.
He looks down at you like you’re something holy even while you’re doing the dirtiest thing imaginable right here in the library. His breath comes in sharp shaky gasps, every little sound he makes muffled into his own hand.
He can’t tear his eyes away from the sight of you, lips stretched shiny and wet around him, every slow pull and push making his head fall back. His thighs tremble harder under your hands, his grip in your hair tightening just enough to show how close he is, how much he’s losing control.
He bites down so hard on his lip he almost draws blood, soft quiet whimpers slipping past anyway, completely drunk on the way you work him. He’s never felt anything like this, except with you.
His hips jerk up one last sharp time, fingers tightening in your hair as he chokes out your name quiet and broken. He spills hot and heavy right down your throat, whole body shaking so hard the table rattles soft. He gasps for air, chest heaving fast, completely undone above you.
You swallow every single drop slowly then pull back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You lean up close to him, voice low and sweet only for him to hear. “Such a good boy Choso. You did so perfect for me.”
His face burns bright red, eyes glossy and half shut, leaning into your touch like he’s starving for it. You press soft gentle kisses all over his flushed cheeks, his damp forehead, then one last slow sweet kiss right on his trembling lips. He melts completely into you, too weak and too happy to say a single word.
A|N: Thanks for all the love and I hope you enjoyed. If you have any requests don’t be shy to ask.
Taglist: @uiiixxx @motleyroses87 @lexispeak @mariamluvzuu if you want to be added comment or dm me!
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