Synopsis: You go on a resort honeymoon restaurant date with your newly wedded husband, Choso Kamo. He fumbles being teased, but you love that about him. An elevator makeout, embroidered panties, and too much alcohol. Later, you fall asleep before things can go too far⊠only to wake up to Choso teasing you.
Pairings: softdom-leaningswitch! Choso Kamo Ă f!reader
Content: MDNI | 18+!!! NSFW, honeymoon somno-inspired intimacy, flustered teasing, post-dinner tipsiness/intox, steamy elevator makeout, embroidered panties, softdom switchy Choso, consent-understood context, sleepy oral, possessive devotion, âmy wifeâ energy, slow reverence turning primal, rain imagery, post-aftercare cuddles, emotional yearning, worship kink, messy love
Author's Note: This one isn't close to perfect since I've been busy, but I'll come back around to edit it. I just wanted to make my weekly deadline! Honeymoon Choso lives in the space between hesitation and hunger. This is my second post for Kinktober â25! Here is the Kinktober Masterlist! (:
The resort restaurant is quiet, the rain pattering steadily against the windows. The dimmed sunset casting soft, wavering shadows across the table. You slide into your seats, damp from wandering the stormy coastline outside. Choso, a sweetheart as always, pulls out the seat for you. When youâre both settled right next to each other, shoulder-to-shoulder, he brushes a stray lock of wet hair behind your ear, but it still sticks to your cheek. His fingers linger a second too long, his eyes locking with the wedding ring on his finger. He peers back at you, gorgeous as ever. He smirks wide and shyly.
âWhatcha thinkinâ?â you say under your breath, grabbing his hand and tapping your fingers over his knuckles.
He melts in your hands with a relieving sigh, âItâs just⊠strange. For so long, my family was all I lived for. But now I⊠my brothers finally have a sister. And I⊠I finally have more than just brothers. I have you. My wife.â
âAnd I have youâ you smile and continue dramatically, âMy lawfully wedded husband. My familyâŠâ
You two share ear-to-ear smiles. His hands spin around yours, and he threads his fingers with yours.
For a long beat, it feels like the restaurant hums until a shadow crosses the table: your waiter, grinning politely, sliding two menus in front of you with the practiced grace of someone whoâs seen a hundred first dates.
You and he reluctantly pull your hands apart just enough to flip the covers open. He leans closer than necessary, shoulder brushing yours as he squints at the page. âHalf of this looks like code,â he whispers, tilting the menu toward you.
A subtle nudge eases out mutual soft laughs. You two rattle off a couple Hawaiian dishes that sound harmless enough. He shrugs, trusting you, closing the menu without another glance. The waiter vanishes with your choices.
The only thing left is the warmth of Chosoâs knee pressed against yours under the table, followed by the pensive weight of his hand on your thigh. A scared tedium in his touch.
You slide your hand back on top of his under the table. His palm hesitates under yours, warmth radiating through the small contact, almost as if asking for permission. You press lightly, leaning closer, and murmur softly, âIâm yours, Cho⊠always. Whenever you need me, Iâll be here. Okay?â
His hand flips, tightens around yours in a quick, almost startled squeeze, fingers pressing into your skin with a careful insistence. His gaze flickers down to your thigh under the table, then back to your eyes. A small, coy smile tugs at his lips, but thereâs something bolder in the way he leans just slightly closer.
âWhenever?â he murmurs lowly, teasing, as if gauging your reaction.
You squeeze his hand and slide it up a bit higher, the fabric of your sundress sliding up. âWhenever,â you whisper, letting the subtext hang heavy between you.
Always, awake, sleepy, ready.
He swallows, then his grip on your thigh tightens slightly, âDo you.. do you mean that?â he asks, teasing, the heat in his voice betraying how enamored he is, how much heâs already captivated by you.
You bite back a giggle, brushing your thumb along the back of his hand. You nod your pretty little head, âOf course,â and his pupils grow wide: uncaged by the depth of iris.
Now those drinks⊠the sweetness hits your tongue, crisp and crystalline, a little like a promise: sharp, bright, dizzying. The first sips make your chest warm, a little floaty, the edges of the restaurant softening into the background.
You lean forward, diving into the Hawaiian dish youâve never tried, letting the flavors bloom on your tongue: sweet tropics, tender fish, smoky kiss of grilled coconut. Choso watches, eyes dark and soft, sharp with attention. Your lips part slightly as you chew, eyes fluttering closed just long enough to catch him off guard. The intensity in his gaze paralyzes you, or maybe itâs the 2nd cocktail⊠and the third one... Hard to tell.
âYou always look so happy when you eat,â he murmurs, voice low, fond, vibrating across the table like an electric pulse. You grin, leaning closer, whispering, âAnd that face when you sip⊠too cute to resist.â Your breath fans over his jaw. A small shiver runs down his spine; a hint of a psycho-precise awareness, the sort that makes him simultaneously want to tease you, that makes his hand want to grab your pretty jaw and make him bite into your soft flesh, makes him want to leave some kisses over those marks⊠imagining them all over youâŠ
The drinks hit in measured doses, high enough to loosen words, smiles and a bit of inhibition, but not enough to vanish into oblivion.
As the evening eases on, the room becomes hazy with warmth, and the gentle weight of too many sweet cocktails hits you⊠ââŠBut just one moreâ
Choso tried to interject but you gave him such a sweet pouty face he couldnât stop you, and a shot: a gummy bear shot that you promised tasted like candy. He took the tiniest sip from his shot glass and to both of your surprises, his face didnât sour.
âOh, my love, we need to be careful with this,â he says.
âIâll be safe⊠mhm⊠with youâ you say as you both toss it backâŠ
A heatwave inside your chest, words and vision are blurred irrevocably. Syllables spill faster than you intend, intoxicated more by each other than the drinks. Your fingers brush against his jaw, trail down the side of his neck, lingering like a spark waiting to ignite. He captures your hand with deliberate warmth, a grip that says Iâm here. Iâm yours. I want you. And a pair of gorgeously deep dark eyes that say, Donât make me say it.
Eye contact that lingers far too long, the food, the drink, the roomâs dim glow, the sweet scent of petrichor and the salty scent of the ocean breathing: all becomes a heady haze. The waiter vanishes somewhere after talking to your newly wedded husbandâŠ
Your hand slides subtly, confidently, higher across his thigh. You follow the heat radiating from him and tease the hem of his pants, only to realize the strain against the fabric. You trickle your fingers right over and grab that muscled python over his pants.
He coughs, his knee jerks up against the table, sending a fork clattering and the sugar-rimmed glass cups wobbling dangerously. A tiny, startled chorus rises from the nearby diners. You freeze mid-laugh, cheeks warm and blushed, a hiccup threatening your words. Chosoâs eyes go wide, caught between mortification and the thrill of being so close to you. The faint stripe across his nose, barely visible but unmistakable, deepens, a delicate flush blooming along the bridge and onto his cheeks.
The overcast sunset filters through the windows, glimmering across the table like a retro postcard.
Choso hesitates, lips parting slightly as if he might stammer an apology, then quickly bows his head. âI⊠Iâm sorry,â he murmurs, voice low, almost drowned in the ambient hush. He waves an awkward apology toward the nearest table, the politeness still intact but tinged with a fluttering, almost pixie-like energy, as if heâs simultaneously embarrassed and bewitched.
âItâs uhâkay,â you slur, cheeks warm, with a bubbly smile. The restaurant quiets again, the other diners returning to their meals. Your husbandâs gaze flicks to yours, shy, vulnerable, and you see it: the way his usual composure melts into something tender and uncertain.
Choso wobbles to his feet, âWe- we should go, my love⊠I um.. Helpâ
You smile at him, and with jelly legs you try to stand in front of him, giggling, and bump into him. âOops⊠sorry,â you murmur, breath catching with a hiccup that feels more like a bell of youth ringing through the surfside air outside. His breath catches in his throat, hard. He steadies you, hands firm and grounding, but you can feel the playful tremor of him, the way heâs caught somewhere between being polite and zuzzingly drunk.
The elevator doors slide closed, and the two of you are pressed impossibly close. Your lips meet again, soft at first. His pensive kiss turning hungrier quicker than you can process, needy: tongues brushing, tasting the sweet residue of gummy bear shots, sticky and sharp against the warmth of his mouth. Your lips glide over his, tongue teasing, tracing the curve of his lower lip, tasting him like youâve never had enough. His knee presses between your legs searching for shared friction. He sighs low and deep getting a tinge of relief, dry humping against you like a jealous dog, tilting your head in his hands to deepen the kiss, hands sliding over your back, gripping, pulling you impossibly closer.
Your hands weave through his hair, tugging gently, brushing the sweat-slick strands from his temple. His hands roam down your sides, thumbs pressing into your waist, fingertips finding the edges of your dress and riding them up, sliding them down. The contact is electric, sticky, dizzying. Every slip of your dress, every drag of his hardness against your warm clothed pussy, every brush of tongue, every press of lips, sends dopamine shocks down up spine. Your breaths mix, hiccups of laughter and soft moans blending with the hum of the elevator.
You giggle into his mouth, tugging him back, pressing your forehead to his.
âBabyâŠâ he eases out, his voice muffled against your kiss. He groans, and with a mischievous grin, sweeps you up bridal style. Your legs curl around his arms, hands clutching his shoulders as he stumbles slightly, golden light catching the sheen of sweat on your temples, the faint crimson blush across his nose and cheeks.
You cling to him, nuzzling and kissing his neck, teeth mindlessly nipping along the curve of his jaw and brushing your tongue against his quickening pulse. His hands cradle your plush thighs, holding you steady, fingers pressing and kneading lightly, warm and strong. The friction of his hips against yours, the heat radiating through every point of contact, makes your head spin with light, airy intoxication.
When the elevator doors open, you cling a little too tightly, fingers gripping his shirt as he stumbles slightly, giggling. âI⊠I want⊠youâŠâ you slur, breathy and messy.
He bites his lip, face flushed crimson, eyes sparkling with amusement and desire, murmuring, âWeâre almost to the suite, my love,â fumbling for the keycard in his pocket, still holding you close, still captivated, still hopelessly caught in the tangle of you both.
You slump against the couch, the warmth of the cocktails and the soft press of his chest pulling your eyelids down. Your words are slurred, soft little hums escaping between breaths, fingers brushing idly against him. âWhere⊠you⊠mm⊠going?â you murmur, voice fading into a sleepy sigh.
Choso strokes your hair back gently, smiling down at your blissful form. âIâll be right back- water,â he murmurs, voice low and affectionate.
The last thing you remember is trying to clasp his hands and tug you toward him, âI donât⊠no want water⊠wan⊠want youâŠâ
When he returns, he's jacket-less and his collared shirt unbuttoned. He finds you fully surrendered to sleep. Carefully, he lifts your small, heavy-with-spirits and sleep body into his arms, settling you against his chest as he moves toward the bed. Your head lolls to the side, soft breaths rising and falling. He gathers the pajamas you packed, cotton soft and faintly scented with you, and sets them nearby.
The sight of you sprawled across the bed, utterly asleep, his chest tightening with tender concern. He kneels beside you, pressing his fingers to your pulse, sensing your life, and presses a feather-light, alcohol-laced kiss to your temple.
Gently, he begins helping you out of your clothes, unzipping your sundress and sliding it down your shoulders. And then- his fingers pause, frozen mid-motion.
His eyes wide open, pupils blowing up. No bra⊠and tiny letters that curl across the waistband of your lacey, skimpy panties: âMrs. Kamoâ, dotted with a string of crimson hearts. Heat rushes into the collar of his shirt, a slow, teasing flush spreading across his cheeks, a low, quiet chuckle escaping his throat. A twitch beneath his belt⊠Even asleep, even fully surrendered, youâve left him this little, intimate treat.
His heart hammers, eyes darkening as he imagines.. the sweetness of it all. Marveling at your gorgeous body, that turns into soft groping of your curves, the delicate lines of your body, the way youâve left yourself entirely vulnerable- and entirely his. His sweet little wife. Shy and bold, uninhibited and intoxicated...
He shakes his head but his hand still betrays him⊠pressing his curious hands to your hips, unable to keep his gaze from the waistband⊠a heat building thatâs difficult to ignore. His other hand brushes your hair⊠âOh mâlove, what âre you- doin to mââ.
His mind races, his cock strains his pants even further, more uncomfortably, at the sight of a dampened spot. Your gloss, your juicy sweetness from the tension of the day. He huffs to himself looking at you peaceful⊠yet a speechless submission. Still he finds himself divided: one part, too considerate to wake you up for the sake of his own pleasure, another part too selfish in needing to feel the way your legs wrap around his headâŠ. needing to feel the way your pussy hugs his cock, the way it twitches as you cum over his cock⊠needing, needing, neEDING, NEEDINGâŠ
He canât help himself. No, no, not when his beautiful wife is wearing those silky panties of devotion, his fingers linger at the hem of your waistband, tracing the curve of the embroidered Mrs. Kamo lettering, hearts dotting each delicate letter. His finger misaligned, slightly tipsy but still capable. A low hum escapes him, half amusement, half want, as he imagines the thought behind it, as he imagines' your plush folds behind that fabric... Your chest rising and falling, lashes brushing your cheeks, a soft sigh slipping through your parted lips. A cute lipstick shade that's smeared all over your face. Choso's brow furrows as he tries to wipe away the smears...
He leans closer, the warmth of his body pressing against yours. His hand wanders, teasing with feather-light touches over neck, chest, your tummy that twitches at his touch, and your hips...
Oh those divine hips and your warm thighs... his finger tips grazing the fabric that separates him from skin. Each contact is measured, careful⊠but deliberate enough to make his pulse spike. Your small movements in sleep, the gentle twitch of your fingers, the soft hums you emit, all fuel a slow, delicious fire in him.
He hooks his fingers under the edges of those panties and pulls them up⊠a sly peek underneath that makes him drool⊠it makes his darkened eyes swirling like a a galaxy in his eyes. Everything is right in front of him.
âSuch a good girl⊠givin me this little gift,â he murmurs, voice low and husky, brushing a daring kiss under your bellybutton, then trailing down to your hips. He presses his lips there for a long moment, tasting the faint sweetness of your skin, letting the tension build, letting you float in your sleep, unaware yet entirely present to him.
His hands explore slowly, teasingly- sliding beneath the fabric, feeling the soft, slick warmth, every inch a careful dance between lustful lucidity and cosmic dreams. Each sigh and flutter from you makes him more curious, pressing against you, murmuring promises into your hair: "Mrs. Kamo⊠all mine⊠alwaysâŠâ
He gets a bit more impatient, the expression on your face with a dazed smile. He moves your panties to the side with absolute care. A quiet touch, a barely there index finger... Until he graze over your pretty clit, circling it with gentle touches, and lingers as he further spread your hood... He sucks in air betqeen his lips, between his teeth... building tension in the quiet suite, where the only sounds are your soft breaths, the rain pattering against the windows, and the slight, uncontrollable hum of him as he feels the pulses from you...
He pulls back and pauses⊠both his hands rub up your stomach, his hands dwarfing your body. He gropes your tits finding endless solace in those soft warm globes⊠His breath hitches, his fingers playing with your nipples curiously. He could feel your heartbeat faster in your chest and he smilesâŠ
âAwake? Love?â he says grabbing a bit harder⊠a low moan is coaxed from your throat, your brow furrows, âCh- Cho?â
Your hands, numb and jellied, grabs Chosoâs head, slowly tangling into his hair, and pushes him down⊠he chuckles a bit, shocked at your instinct⊠He runs his hands back down, grabbing you by your hips firmly. He leaves a trail of saliva as he licks down your stomach, his teeth gripping the waistband of your panties.
With your panties still pulled to the side, he kisses your clit, and his tongue laps down over your glistened folds. Your fingers grip his hair harder before he presses a long, lingering lick, just enough to taste you, just enough to let the tension spike, before pulling back, watching, waiting, letting the slow, intoxicating power hang heavy in the air.
âM-moâŠmoreâŠâ you slur out, wriggling slowly under his hip grip, and Choso obliges. In turn, you squeak out, and find yourself lost in the drunk slurry, the enamoring lust, and the neediness that your husband couldnât help.
He pulls your puffy cunt right against his face, adoring the jiggle of your ass in his hands, the wicked grip that slides to your thighs as he raises your legs on his broad shoulder. Eyes still closed, your fingers pull at the inky strands of his hair. Loosened and free. He slips his tongue between your folds, and squishes his tongue against your eager gooey hole. Your hips buck against his face as he works sloppily. He lets out strained moans and you reciprocate, âNeed you⊠ChoâŠâ
He stays lost between your thighs, dragging his tongue along your drenched heat. He lets out a guttural groan as your moan out another plea, âBaby⊠fuck me⊠please.. yâtease⊠â
âYou just taste so fuckin good, baby,â he growls, a strange tinge of anger, âCanât fuckn stop..â
He dives back in, your thighs clenching harder, your core spasming, the walls of your cunt releasing as his fingers pinch and tease your clit, his tongue slipping in and out, sloppily lapping up the juices that drip around your folds and inner thighs, leaving bite marks that make your eyes snap open. You peek at him, "Oh hhngâŠâ
And he peers up at you with those pretty zenned out eyes. The swirling of his everything reflected back into you. And that was it for Choso. Eye contact with your gorgeously blurred mooned eyes. He strips off his pants and hus boxers in a rushed swoop, cock springing out eagerly, his tip a pretty pink. He climbs over you, one hand still playing with your puffy cunt, the other holding up his weight as he licks back up your hips, chest, over your pretty tits, collarbone, neck, and kisses you deeply and sloppily. His tongue dancing with yours. You try to catch your breath in a stilled moment, but his tongue is still fervently searching for yours.
Your sacral pulses in heatwaves that leave your legs even more weak than the alcohol makes you⊠He pulls back just enough to admire you, a wet smirk sprawled on his face.
âCanât believe you got theseâŠâ he pulls at the crotch of your panties and slides the fabric up between your folds, a wet friction that makes you squirms, â... without telling me?â
âSu-surprise..â you murmur out, your head spinning lightly, eyes focused on Chosoâs devious grin, focused on the way he leaves a couple hickies on your tits and sits back. His eyes effortlessly line your uncoordinated body, those celestial curves, the darkening marks, megative space that still needs to be marked⊠He sighs, your wiggling hips, the pulsing from his cock telling him he needs to bury himself in you.Â
He aligns his cock between your legs⊠You feel the warmth emanating from him, the heavy weight of his cock pressing beneath the fabric of your panties, but teasing over your clit.
Hmph, you ease out. He smirks at your reaction and coos, âPatience, babyâŠâ
He slides his cock in and out against the cotton fabric squeezing against him, simultaneously dragging across your clit. Pre seeps out of his tip and sticks to the inside of your panties. You writhe on your back, breathing twice as labored, you extend your hands to feel his cock hidden under your panties and he grabs your wrists with one hand, âSo fuckinâ cute of you, Mrs. Kamoâ
He pumps a few more times before your whines leak out again, âPlease⊠please fuck meâŠâ
He grip your hips, lifting them up more and lining himself at your entrance.
"This?" He groans, the tip of his dick sliding up and down, a gorgeous squelching, but not exactly where you're aching for it. You wiggle more, searching for the fragmented pleasure...
A groan escapes him and a relieved astonished yelp from you as he slips in, your pussy tightens around him. Choso shudders, âOhh-heh-ahh- so⊠so tight⊠youâre.. So wet for me, babyâŠâ
You get no chance to catch your breath before heâs anxiously grinding farther, deeper, harder into you. His voice cracks from how desperate he is.
"Hh- uh- baby-sorry, need", He fucks into you hard, mindlessly, gasps seeping out from your lips. Every push stretches you, your vision blurry, but your mind aware. A dark vignette and the sight of Choso duxked out, smiling and mouthing an Oh with every snap of his hip. He catches a glimpse of that emptied expression on yours and grins. His hand snakes down to your clit.
His thrusts slow down, nice and sweet, wanting you to savor every inch of his heavy cock, as he grinds it inside you. When you think heâs deep, he pumps hard and it slips even deeper. Your hands try to wriggle in his grip and he shakes his head, âNuh uh, my pretty wifeâ. He grins down at you with that golden smile that curls his lips devilishly. Heâs in in love with that blissed out expression, heâs in love with how well you take him, more over, heâs so fucking in love with you, his wife, his wife, hi, my wife, my wifeâŠÂ
âYou take it so fkn good, babyâŠâ his pace is brutal as he drags you through your twitching overstimulated orgasm, straight into another. You shake and squirm but his touch is pure heaven, happy to be caged against his body, happy to have that knot tied between you.
He lets go of your hands and they hook around his neck and shoulders. He leans forward, his hands on each side of your head and bites down on your shoulder. His breathing gets erratic and muffled as his never ending pumps continue between bites and hickies. He slows down again and in your triple vision, you luckily find his ear and whisper, âMa-made fâ youâŠâ, you nip at his ear weakly and you can feel his cock twitch inside youâŠ
âOh, baby⊠so fkn⊠ah..â he groans, his words mixing into a babble as your eyes roll to the back of your head with how deep heâs hittingâŠ
âCome for me, my pretty girl, please? I- I canâtâŠâ he moans out and his hand slips between your bodies, rubbing messy, methodical swirls around and over your clit. He draws high pitched whines from your throat that make you shudder even more. He pumps once, twice, thrice before the tangle in your core begins to unwind. A whimpering yelp escapes you, your back arches as you squeeze his cock. His breathing is broken up as he fuck you through every moment of it. He follows you, chasing, faster and faster, unhinged, and groaning perpetually until he starts spilling.
âOhâahhâhuhâohâ... he exhales, as he spills over and over, trying to inch in more sore thrusts. You squeal against his pumps, both of you acting up with those desperate clingy moans. A trembling mess⊠and a satisfied smirk sprawled on his face as he towers over you, his cock twitching inside your pulsing wallsâŠ
He bends his arms, leaning down to press sweet soft kisses against all those vicious marks heâs riddled all over your body, âOh.. baby.. Iâm so sorryâŠâ
The sound of the rain still pattering on the suite window comes backâŠ
You're left jittering on a lusty drunk high. You try your best to speak, a slur still coming out, âYa- like⊠mâsurprise, Mr. Kamo?â
He hugs you, no pace left between his bear hug and you, he whispers into your ear, ââCourse uh did, Mrs. Kamo⊠I should get yâsome waterâŠâ
âNuh mmm!,â the lucidity pops back into you as your arms turn to steel, keeping him right against you, âOnly you!â
Dividers: @enkeli-moonsys, @cursedcarmine with edits and originals by me @crystallinesilk
Taglist: @noyaswrld
*comment to be added to my taglist (:*
