You knew Choso was never the needy type, never needing anything from you. But today was different, fighting sorcerers all day must have kicked his ass because as soon as he got home and saw you- in bed dressed in his shirt with just underwear on- he’d pounced like a starved man.

“Please, baby, please.” He whined into the crook of your neck, rutting against you. His uneven and ragged breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Just, please…”