řøț

ī ďøň’ț ķňøŵ

[rottinghampalace]

call me řøț…

here for a short time writing fanfics for choso mainly rn, prolly will add more based on my interest and requests. if you like my shit u GOTTA be a pro LGBTQ+, anti racist, non misogynistic, pro liberation cunt bitch, so welcome. I try to stay anti ai so if u see an ai image on my page assume i didn’t know it was ai and educate me!

but uhhhhh yeah enjoy ill post soon maybe.. i work best with prompts so lmk

18+ plsssss

。MASTERLIST 。

pretty fvcking neighbor. - c.k. x reader [jjk]

cat hybrids near u! - c.k. x reader [jjk]

[abielrix]

Okay first post but I NEEDDD incubus choso fics for kinktober where hes submissive and whiney and he can't stop and ur so tired

[rottinghampalace]

bet that

[rottinghampalace]

more hot girl shit cumming soon

[rottinghampalace]

CAT HYBRIDS NEAR U! | c.k. x gn reader

hybrid!reader x owner!choso, no use of pronouns, gendered terms, etc., suggestive at best but no smut, owner/pet dynamics, more choso’s pov, vague morality lowkey, 18+

choso didn’t ever think he would be the kind of person to own a hybrid. and not just any kind of hybrid: a cat. yes, absolutely he was a cat person. he found himself to be very akin to the feline species. he had a large family, reminiscent of the large litters of kittens he would see born to the neighborhood and alley cats. he was protective of that family in the same way. he had an affinity for long naps in the sun, and seemed somewhat standoff-ish and anti social at the best of times. but once he warmed up to you, nothing could pry him away.

so he had considered more than once that maybe someday in the future, he could see himself as a pet owner, but never a hybrid. he swore he’d never encountered a hybrid owner that was completely normal. even his good friend who owned one was a little stranger than most. choso was 90% sure the man was doing absolutely filthy things with the catboy he adopted a year and a half ago, if the copious amounts of hickeys and the way the hybrid’s ears drooped in a lovesick way were anything to go by. his friend may the an exception to the many, many hybrid owners that adopt for the sole purpose of having a legal slave in their homes since they fell into whatever they have going on only 3 months ago, but it still rubbed him the wrong way. 8 months ago, choso would have said that the entire hybrid adoption system was a poorly disguised socially accepted fetish. but 3 months ago, he had gotten drunk. soooooo so drunk despite it being relatively early on a sunny saturday afternoon. when he left the bar his friends took him to and wandered past a hybrid pound, he was doomed from the start.

in the window, perched on a hybrid-sized cat bed, curled up in a heap of pillows and napping in the sun, there was you, the prettiest damn thing he ever laid eyes on. your body was nestled in softness, the sunlight kissing your skin and the fur of your tail as it flicked lazily against your thigh. Ears perked up and twitched from the sounds inside, but you were so undisturbed —so willfully aware that there was a starstruck man looming outside the window, jaw slack and salivating. he stood there for what felt like hours, but it was really only a few minutes before you turned and stretched those delicious legs, reclining once again. eyes still closed, ears still twitching —undisturbed.

and then he saw your face, feline and sharp, but rounded at the edges by sleep. his heart stuttered and stopped. he clutched his chest, drunkenly wondering if he would die like this: staring at a pretty black cat hybrid, eyes glued to the glass even as he rotted away. but the way your lashes fluttered against your cheeks made him stir, clinging to life. you yawned, long and exhausted from nothing but the weight of your own furry perfection, exposing fangs that made him shiver, wondering how it would feel to run his tongue against those sharp edges. he almost zoned out again, but he saw your eyes drift open, like you knew you had an audience. a very, very engaged one. the thought of the most gorgeous creature on the planet seeing him through the glass, hair mused, clothes rumpled, face red from liquor and his own bashfulness made him nauseous, and so he pivoted on his heel and ran, head down and swimming with thoughts.

he came back the next day, and the day after that, glancing through the window to see you sitting pretty right where he left you. you took naps every day around 3 pm, not waking until around 6pm when the workers would take you back to your actual room. you were their prize in the window. a living, breathing advertisement for a hybrid pound that had seen better days and knew it. you were too good for this. too pretty and precious to be seen through glass like a mannequin in a storefront. the more he thought about it, the more beside himself he grew about it, especially when wandering eyes would approach the glass and tap on it while you slept, disturbing your slumber just to get a better glimpse. the loose fitting clothes they put you in did nothing to hide what you had, and choso couldn’t stand anyone else gawking over what he could plainly see was meant for the greatest respect and admiration.

that’s basically what he looped in his head when he entered the pound for the first time, a paycheck’s worth of 20s in his front pocket so he could adopt you on the spot. he spent the last 24 hours researching everything and anything he needed to know about the adoption process, so he came prepared with all the legal shit printed in a crisp folder and his background check in another. he told himself he was taking you to a better place, and thats what your caretakers said when they brought you to him. the first meeting was everything. your eyes, your lips, your smile… everything about you made his chest ache and his stomach swirl. he took you home the same day, but not before stopping at every major store in the area and blowing through more than he planned to get what you needed. he took you to pick out your bed, toys, and a dining set. he bought you special brushes for your fur and products meant for cat hybrids specifically. he bought your favorite snacks and treats, a trimming set for your claws, and despite already having a suitcase of clothes, he took you to the mall and drained his wallet even more to get you a new closet.

cats are standoff-ish, and black cats are certainly known to be the pickiest with their humans, but no matter how reserved you were when he first adopted you, by sunset when he took you home, you were hanging from his biceps as he carried in your loot. he cleared his office the night before to give you your own room, but it didnt fucking matter. attached to the hip as he put your bed together, but you still weasled your way into his bed for the first night.

“cats like to mark their territory, you know?” you said, low and silky into the crook of his neck as you settled into his arms. he nodded shakily, swallowing a lump in his throat as his hands hovered over your waist. you were too comfortable. not just in how that feline softness pressed against his sharp edges, or how you felt like a cloud come to life. no, you were comfortable in underwear that matched your ears, and a shirt you stole from his wardrobe. chest to chest, he could feel your body vibrating as you purred on top of him, legs tangled and your ears brushing his collar. it took you wrapping your tail around his arm for him to give in and crush you to his chest, shakily exhaling against your head as he melted into the bed. your purring grew louder, and when you woke up, you were even more ensnared in each other than before.

choso supposes it’s in a cats nature to have humans buy things just to not use them at all, regardless of how everything is tailored to your tastes, because this habit of “marking territory” didn’t only extend to his bed and pillows. his clothes became your clothes, the toys he got you were replaced by his jewelry and piercings… the only thing that seemed safe was his brush because:

“humans have such brittle hair,” you had complained one day after trying to use his and immediately regretting how harsh the bristles were on your fur.

“that’s why i got you your own brush, sweet thing..” he murmured, cooing as he gathered you into his arms, hugging you to his chest and pressing a slow, aching kiss to the top of your head, right between your ears. he smiled against your fur when he saw them twitch, unable to resist another kiss to the sharp peak of one. “you shouldn’t ruin your fur with a hard brush..” reaching a hand down, he gathered the end your your tail in his palm, stroking the part that you were just seconds ago. gently, he pet your tail from the middle to the top, thumbing against the fur as he hummed softly, reclining against the pillows and taking you with him. but then, your tail snapped from his gentle grasp, and his gaze went down immediately, his expression twisting with concern as you seemed to shiver.

“it’s sensitive..” you mumbled into his chest, purring as you settled into his lap, undeterred by his ignorance of your anatomy. his hand flinched back, fingers rubbing his palm, feeling where your soft fur had just rested. he took a slow breath, hoping you couldn’t hear his heartbeat under your ear as he tried and failed to resist conjuring an image of how you would react to him actually playing with it; with you. as you tucked yourself under his chin, still as undisturbed as ever, choso realized he was far less so. it’s been 8 months since he first saw you (6 that he’s owned you) and he’s still yet to quell the deep rooted longing that brought him back to the pound to admire you in the first place. he can’t blame his drunken stupor anymore, and he certainly can’t keep using the excuse that he saved you from the pound, because it’s just not true.

whenever he asks you about your time at the facility, despite how it was second-rate at best, the truth is that you were not unhappy there. you had friends you still talk to from time to time. he bought you a phone so you’re not lonely without them, and vice versa. you were fed well and treated well there. many of the staff had gathered to you like honey bees around a flower patch, saying heartfelt goodbyes to the black cat they all adored so dearly. it almost made him cry. your presence in the pound’s front window was the most offensive thing they did, but you seemed to not care in the slightest since you got to nap.

with all this rolling around in his head, he couldn’t deny that the main and most important reason he adopted you was because he was appalled by the idea of not being around you. of never knowing your scent or the warmth of your body. the way your voice soothes his busy brain, or how your touch is enough to zap the stress from his very bones. ever since he adopted you, his world has been a little brighter, a little happier, especially because all his siblings are adults now, and visits are not as frequent as before. loneliness hinders the soul unlike anything else.

he’s a grown man, and he knows he will have to reckon with the fact that he is now the legal owner of a cat hybrid because of his own greed and selfishness, but right now, he can’t. and if it doesn’t hurt the pretty little thing sitting in his lap and scrolling his phone to find a cute new collar, he truly couldn’t care less.

。… 。

1.9k ish words idk once again this is only mildly edited. might write smut with this concept prolly maybe

[rottinghampalace]

hot girl shit cumming soon

[hughjass]

Office Worker!Toji x Fem!reader

18+ SMUT!

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

No ai was used. No use of y/n

Synopsis: you don’t know he’s got a big crush on you, and he finds out you’re quite inexperienced so he offers to help you gain some.

Fanart by @/youKa.i on insta/tiktok

I hope you enjoy! -> on ao3 as well!!

Moodboard here (ignore this if you want)

Wc: 7.4k

Cw: Non canon au. Office au. No physical description of y/n other than clothes and hair (just a brief mention). Short plot. teaching you to kiss. Thumb sucking. Talking you through it. Pubic hairs. Virgin!reader. Introvert!Toji. Soft dom!Toji. Dacryphilia. Once again you’ve got a deep dish. Spooning. Prone bone. Headlocks. Make outs. Multiple orgasms. Dry humping. Thigh riding. Pussy eating. Fingering. Clit play. Creampie. Unprotected. Big dick!Toji. Size kink. Size difference. Breath play. Cervix fucking. Squirting. Second hand embarrassment (very brief). He wears glasses.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

It’s been three dreadful years since you got this job. Same boring routine. Your alarm, panging heavily. Screeching. 05:37. An oddly specific time but nonetheless. Your front flat on the bed. Head buried in the satin pillow. An arm underneath it. Your eyes groggy, crust filled, you raise one arm above your laying body and smack the sounding thing, hard. It stops.

You need exactly twenty three minutes to yourself in the morning before you begin your day. Twenty three minutes of silence. You turn over. Back now against the ruffled sheets.

Staring at the ceiling above you. Your curtains slightly ajar, a distant car engine coming to life. The headlights, illuminating. Small patterns of light reflect onto your ceiling. Various shapes.

Lifting a hand into the air slowly, you’re tracing the patterns you see. Index finger pointed, swirling circles, rectangles. A sharp edge, you trace out. Your arm, stretching further away from you.

05:43

You glance at the alarm clock. Bright red font staring back at you. You restlessly bring your arm back down, it lands in a small plop. You close your eyes briefly, a heavy sigh leaving your lips.

You grab your phone by your bedside. Tapping the screen, 05:45. You scroll through your socials, emails and skim read your schedule on your calendar.

Minutes go by as the time finally reads 06:00. You reluctantly sit up, legs hanging off the edge of the mattress. Hands planted on either side of it, you push yourself up with a small grunt. You enter your bathroom, marble dark green tiled walls and a few small plant pots decorated the room.

A red toothbrush in a white mug next to your small sink. You brush your teeth and shower all under thirty minutes. You find a professional business-casual outfit in your closet. A yellow cashmere sweater, paired with indigo straight legged jeans and red bowl of repettos. You grab your wired headphones and your bag, keys already in hand, and head out. A soft tune playing in your ears.

You check your phone, April 5th. 06:50. The weather’s less cold today. The sun rising, a hue of golden skulked behind chalky clouds. A warm easy breeze brushing your cheeks.

Fourteen minutes.

You needed to get the train at exactly four minutes past seven in the morning.

You make it to the station with four minutes to spear. You love walking, such an easy way to get your blood flowing.

The station’s platform buzzed with restless hums of commuters. Swarmed with people. Fatigued faces, sagged shoulders. A heaviness in the air. Yet you were tuned out, bouncing quietly to the rhythm in your ear. You didn’t let the heaviness get to you. You already know you have a long day ahead of you. Can’t do anything about it.

One silver carriage after another rolls in. Tires screeching every few seconds. It halts. The doors slowly opening, a horde of people rushing out, whilst people barge past others trying to rush in, you included. It’s tightly packed. Stuffy air. Poor air conditioning. Blocked in every direction. Bags brushing against people’s backs. Bumping at every jolt of the train. The train jerks at a curve, sending you swaying. Your body failing to catch up with the sudden movement. Your body bends, face pressing up into someone’s swole chest. The train lurches again, he catches you. Beefy arms locking around your waist.

“I’m soo sorry. The train— I didn’t mean to.” You plead. Your eyes haven’t reached his yet, too embarrassed to look.

“You okay?” A deep rumble.

Baritone. Throaty.

You finally look up at him nervously, eyes widening slightly.

He’s handsome. Very handsome. Nearly a whole foot taller than you. His neck tilted downward, fully focused on you. Black hair, a messy wolf cut, almost blue in the train light, frame his eyes. They’re sharp, you notice. Grey with hints of green as they stared back into yours. Intense. Glasses framed perfectly on his nose. Black briefcase over a shoulder. A white t-shirt underneath a navy blue sweat, folded at the midpoint of his forearm, exposing angry veins following up to his massive hands. He could kill me in one punch, you think.

Dark grey slacks, your eyes trailing further down to his black oxford patent shoes.

His arm is still caged at your waist, holding you upright. Wait. You’ve seen him before. Where? At the park? Wait no. This is your coworker. What’s his name again?

T…to…Zen…

You’re trying to remember, still staring at him, not answering.

“It’s Toji. We’re colleagues."

Ah Toji. That’s it.

“O—oh yeah. I totally remembered.” A slight forced laugh leaving you.

The train bumps again. You accidentally grab at his bicep. Meaty. Thick bicep. He’s so big you think. You’d never noticed Toji. At all actually. But he’s noticed you.

“Sorry again.” You look down, uncomfortable.

“Hold onto me yeah?” Velvety voice. He’s pulling you tighter against him. Your chest flushed against his rigid one. Fuck, how is he so big?

You give a tiny nod, eyes focused on the ground. He grunts in response. Odd. Paying no mind to it, you pull out your phone, needing any distraction. Reviewing your calendar. A full busy day, your phone reads. With it all ending by 6pm. You sigh mentally. You click a few tasks, scrolling on your phone checking the details.

‘Type up a project, send it off to your boss by the end of the day.’ Emails upon emails flooding yours. Constantly responding to them. Lunch break. The same restaurant. Same sandwich. Lettuce, cheese, chicken breast.

All the while, there’s Toji. Fighting your scent. He’s staring at the top of your head. Thoughts overpowering him. The smell of your perfume, so enticing, so inviting. Screaming in his nose. Vanilla with a hint of strawberry. He gives in and breathes you in slow. Quiet. Face nearly pressing into your head. Eyes closing. A flush of pink rushing to his cheeks. A bulge forming slightly in his trousers. Shiiit.

You’re still holding onto his bicep. It felt like the muscle was bursting out. He dwarfed you. His large body shielding, hiding you from everyone else. You couldn’t see over his shoulder even if you tried.

The train still moving, tired groans of its wheels are heard every few minutes.

-

The train slowed with a long screech. Its wheels grinding against the rails. It stops. The doors opened with a sluggish spread. People barging past each other trying to get out. You’re unfocused, not really there. Toji’s large arms guiding you out. Your chest to his front, your feet backing away. His forward. Both stumbling out. He’s holding you tight, the warmth radiating off of him. He’s so close. His musky, sandalwood perfume digging in your nose. You can’t help but inhale.

You both make it out onto the platform. Still clutched onto each other. Your eyes reach his, he’s already looking.

“Thank you Toji.” Face flushing in a deeper colour, he’s making you so shy.

His heart stutters. A small pink on the surface of his face. He swallows the lump in his throat before answering.

“‘S no problem.”

The two of you exit the station in silence. Both side by side, he’s slowing his steps matching your pace. Hands in his pockets. Grounded, confident strides of his long legs next to yours. A heavy walk. Small tilts of his hips from every step.

-

Eventually you make it to the office doors.

Both heavily greeted by your lively boss.

“Ahh! It’s nice to see you two come in together.” Strangely bubbly. Especially with how early it is in the morning. Just twenty minutes after seven. Messy glasses, hair in flying strands. A bright red cardigan with a white shirt underneath. Grey pants and black dr martens.

She reminds you of your old art teacher from college.

You give her a small smile anyway, nodding.

“Why specifically.. us two?” You ask all confused.

Your boss glances at Toji, wiggling her brows. You narrow your eyes at her, then between the two. You pause at Toji, nervously staring at him. He’s glaring at your boss. A minute of silence follows. Just eyes fighting over.

Toji quickly barges past you both, his face flushed red. You couldn’t see it though. Only noticed the growing red at the back of his neck. He reaches a hand up to cover it as he scurries away.

“Uh?”

“Alrighty!” Your boss’s sing songy voice cutting you off.

“I’ve got a bunch of stuff for you to do today. I know you can get it allll done before the end of today! Aaand I’ll reward you if you do.” Eyes beaming at yours. She’s paused in a teeth open smile. Hands clasped together. Interlocked. You don’t know why that scares you a bit, but it does.

You crack a smile again, one eye twitching.

-

Lunch time. Finally. You’ve got a headache.

You’re headed to your easy access restaurant. Reciting your order in your head.

The weather’s quite nice today. Soft kisses of a warm breeze wafting through the air land on your cheeks. It’s a two minute walk from the office.

You’ve got your sandwich in a small brown bag, you’re holding it up with two hands. It’s your favourite sandwich, so you hold it with much care. Pacing, making your way back to the office staff room.

You reach the office doors, tapping your lanyard at the speed gates. A light jog now, you’re heading down to the staff room, excited to quench your hunger.

Reaching the door to the staff room, you stretch your arm out aiming for the handle before the door opens and you meet a larger, sturdier body. Same blue sweater, same toned forearms. You look up, eyes beaming.

“Toji!” A soft smile tugging at your lips as you stare.

He grunts in response, nodding his head a little. Hands coming up to push at the bridge of his glasses. Adjusting the already neatly placed thing on his face. Needing to ground himself in your presence. You make him so nervous you don’t even know it.

He steps aside letting you in. You give him a playful wink as thanks. A rush of heat gathers at his cheeks. Fuck. You don’t know how much he likes you. You’ve just got this easiness to you. So soft. Sweet.

You enter the room, seeing a close work friend sitting at one of the tables. You settle down into a chair next to her, chatting your day away.

-

The end of your shift is approaching. You’ve never been happier. You’re sitting at your desk typing away at the keyboard.

“My lovely staff!” Your boss enters the office room in that annoyingly warm sing songy voice.

“Since you’ve all been such wonderful people, I’m rewarding you all! Office dinner!” She shrieks, her voice getting pitchier at every word. You feel a throb at your ear drums. Covering your ears with both hands you’re smiling at her anxiously. There’s one thing you still weren’t used to in all your three years of being here. Your boss’s unpredictable nature.

“An officer dinner sounds nice.”

You hear murmurs across the room, some eager, some anxious, you being one of them.

-

The long awaited office dinner. You’re seated beside your close friend around a circular table, giggling at something she’s said. Other staff gathered around. You can’t really register it though you’ve had a few drinks and they’re starting to take effect. You’re swaying side to side, a hearty smile etched on your face. You’re staring at your friend so lovingly. You love friendships. There’s something much deeper about friendships than anything else.

You hear another one of your colleagues talk about their sexual history. The alcohol punching it out of them. With another tipsy giggle, you lean in towards your friend, ushering her closer with a beckon of your hand. A nearly empty glass of wine in the other.

You whisper in her ear. Giggling.

“You know I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

You rise back up, staring with a drunken smile. It’s as if she’s forced into sobriety when she hears you. Face contorting into something that looks like surprise. Before she responds, she notices a certain someone. How they’ve been struggling to keep their eyes off of you. Dull green ones.

Instead, she grabs a spoon and taps in against her empty glass, a chime following. The room has her attention.

“Who wants a round of spin the bottle?” She suggests. A smirk playing on her lips.

“We’re too old for—”

“Yes! Sounds perfect.” Your boss cuts in. Her word being final.

Your boss grabs an empty beer bottle, facing it flat on the table and spins.

It unexpectedly lands on a certain dark haired male. That so happens to have a very sizeable frame.

“Mr Zenin!” She gleams. There’s a panicked look on his face, you chuckle to yourself quietly. Seems like he’s also not used to her antics.

“Aaaand…”

Spinning the bottle again. Your boss is seated near you, hands clasped together. Almost as if she knows who it’s landing on. Like she’s orchestrated something. It spins for a good long twenty seconds before landing perfectly in your direction. What a coincidence.

She yells your name excitedly. And you’re stunned in your seat. Frozen. You look to your friend whispering a quick

“What do I do?”

Before you glance over at Toji’s face and he’s… red. Very red. You look slightly concerned. Brows squinted. Mouthing a

‘You ok?’

He just nods quickly. Eyes leaving yours briefly, dancing around the room.

“Well?” Your boss is still giving that creepy wide smile.

“Well what..” you ask wearily. Clutching at the hem of your shirt.

“Well, head on out to an empty room! Both of ya.” She gestures her hands to the door, clapping, and Toji’s already up on his feet. This is the quickest you’ve ever seen him move. Practically speed walking to the door, exiting first. Small snickers are heard throughout the room.

“He’s so obvious.”

You just glance over everyone, still confused. With one final glance at your boss, you follow along. Leaving the room.

You find Toji against a nearby wall. Hands digging in his pockets. Shifting from one foot to the other.

“Toji?” You call out. His face turned over to you. Heart beating out his chest. Can she hear it? He wonders. He’s waited for such an opportunity like this, trying so hard not to fuck it up.

“..should we find a room?” His voice is so quiet. It’s as if he’s making an effort to look less intimidating than he already does. Why would you be scared though? He’s so nice. If looks could kill though.

“Yeah.” A reassuring smile shaping on your lips.

The both of you find an empty room, far away from your main building. No person nearby. No noise. Just extreme quietness.

You feel the alcohol setting in even more now. A slight dizziness forming. Possibly for him too, he’s had a few shots of whisky.

Your mind drifts back to what you said a few minutes ago.

‘Never kissed anyone before’

Toji seems like an understanding person under all that scruff. He could probably give you advice. He’s attractive. Very evidently. Your eyes rake over him. A slow once-over. Settling on his biceps for a second longer. God they’re so big. He’s so big. He probably has experience, you conclude. Definitely. He could help you. You muster up the courage and blurt it out.

“Toji! You know..” you pause, eyes looking at the ground before meeting his again. “I’ve never kissed anyone before… or done— you know what nevermind.” A huge wave of second hand embarrassment erupting. Hearing it out loud. Again. It sounds worse than it did earlier. You should’ve just kept your mouth shut. What possessed you to say that you think. Mentally slapping yourself a good few times. Eyes scrunching closed in disgust. Crows feet forming at how hard you’re pressing your lids together.

It’s as if the gates of heaven had opened and invited Toji Zenin directly. As vip. He sucks in a breath you don’t notice. Heart stuttering in his firm chest.

You’re looking away, all shy. Turning around full so your back is facing him now. You wish you could erase this memory, wipe it clean off the face of earth.

I should’ve never drank— Oh god, what if he tells everyone— you’re brain spiralling.

You hear heavy thuds, he’s slowly approaching you. Close enough to your back that you feel his warmth. Only slightly, but giving you room to object.

“Would you like me to… teach you?” He asks you, voice deeper than it usually is.

You spin back around shocked that he’s not disgusted by your admission. A small smile forming on your lips in genuine delight, you look up at him and nod twice. The alcohol fully in control of you both now. Hazey eyes, shining at him. He raises a hand up to your face. Slowly. Giving you time to say otherwise. You don’t reject it. He places a thumb at your chin, rubbing softly. Your jaw too. Tilting your gaze at him. Caressing you.

Before dipping his head low, huge body caging yours. He parts his lips slightly. His grey eyes half lidded. Intensely staring into your glazed ones.

His other hand finds your face. Propping up your head in both big hands, making you look so much smaller, he always did, he steps closer. Contracted biceps bulging in his shirt. Fingers travelling up your face, thumbs at the apples of your cheek.

“Open your mouth a bit…” he whispers, lowering a thumb, glazing over your glossy bottom lip.

“Yeah jus’ like that.”

Fuck he sounds so hot right now. Is it the alcohol? It’s definitely the alcohol.

You’re staring up at him. Blinking slow. Eyes all doey.

He pushes his thumb in. Delicately. Pushing at your wet muscle. Circling. His own tongue stutters out a little, in awe. Mimicking almost, as if he can’t fathom that you’re actually letting him put his thumb in your mouth. You hollow your cheeks and suck.

Slurp.

Your eyes close, shutting softly.

“Mnh.” That does it.

He removes his thumb, resting it on your bottom lip. Stares at the glistening thing. His eyes, heavy. He inches his face closer. His warm breath wafting over your face. Your mouth.

A gentle, chaste roll of his lips on yours. Slow. Open mouthed.

Chu.

Eyes closing at the feel. He pulls away just a bit. Low eyes boring into you. He’s still close enough that you’re breathing his air. You’re dazed. Panting unhurried deep breaths. Every exhale fanning his lips. His tongue swipes over his bottom lip slowly. Nearly touching yours. His eyes gloss over your wet mouth.

He leans in again. Eyes closing. Pulling your lips against his. Still unrushed. Angling closer. Noses brushing at every twist of his head. Deepening this kiss. His tongue wetting your lower lip. Asking. Pleading.

“Let me in.” Heavy pants in between kisses.

You open your mouth with a tiny moan, welcoming, enveloping his thick tongue. He’s bigger everywhere. So much bigger than you. You love it. He’s rolling his tongue against yours now, tracing the crevices of your mouth. Swallowing you. Tongues tangled. Moaning into you.

“Mmph!” Sultry groans leaving his mouth. Trapping your lower lip between his teeth. Sucking softly.

“Hn!”

You never knew kissing could be like this. Feel like this. You feel a pool of warmth settle at your lower belly. Butterflies. You push into him further. Tongues flat against each other. Sucking. Teeth clashing.

You’re grinding against each other now. His hands, wandering down your back, gripping your ass.

Your hips give an experimental thrust. An elongated roll. Holding it for an extra second. Mid kiss, you feel something rigid. Taut. Quite long too. You pull away just a little.

A gasp leaves you. You’re not too sure if it's pleasure or shock. Definitely both. You glance down at the hard thing. It looks painful, almost. Huge dent protruding at his lower clothes. A hefty thing he is. Couldn’t possibly be a normal size. You’re zoned out at the sight of him, he nudges a meaty thigh between your legs. Pulling your lower body closer to his. Veiny hands fixed at your hips. Rolling your clothed pussy against the solid muscle, he flexes.

“Unh!”

You’re moaning into his mouth. Hot breaths mixing. Eyes dilated. Fluttering.

“T—Toji!” You tried to pull away, voice trembling.

“Wanna stop?” He whispers with a shaky exhale. Low grey eyes piercing yours.

He hasn’t stopped moving you on his body. Gyrating hips in firm hands. You attempt to respond. But you whimper instead. He takes that as your answer. Entranced at how good it feels on his thigh. Throbbing pulses of your pussy every few beats. You’re aching. Craving more. Is this a normal thing that happens during sex? You don’t know. But you love it.

“I’m gonna pick you up okay?”

You give a few rushed nods, flushed face, parted wet lips brushing his.

Lifting you easily with one of his massive arms, he locks your legs around his toned waist. Flexed arms firm around your body. Caging you. Pulling you in so your clothed pussy’s face first against his bulge.

He’s grinding you down harder. Longer. Your clit catching at the large bump. He’s moving into you. Slow rolls of his.

“Angh!” Eyes shut. Lips caught in your teeth. They’re trembling. Poor attempts of you stifling your sounds. You hide your face into the crook of his neck.

“That good huh?” His voice all rugged. He’s feeling this as much as you. Hot breaths fanning your ear. You can’t reply.

You’re clutching at his tricep. Shoulders, his neck. A deep feeling settling in your lower belly. A build up. It's tight. Severe almost.

“You gotta say it.”

“Toj— hn! I don’t angh! Something’s—”

A few more rolls of your clothed pussy on him and you’re shuddering. Thighs shaking vigorously, eyes spinning. A silent cry leaving you. You’re cumming, hard. Nails gnawing at his shirt.

“F—fuckk!” Heavy heaves of your breath against his flushed neck.

“Breathe… breathe for me..that’s it.”

Beats pass. He helps you down from your high. You look ruined. Face stained in aftershocks of pleasure. You’re so fucking beautiful he’s barely holding on.

“I didn’t think it could be like that.” You breathlessly say. Staring at him.

“There’s still a lot more to learn…” His eyes dance around you before continuing.

“Let me take you home?”

-

Stumbling into your apartment, you’re pressed tightly against each other. Lips in a tangle of wet opened mouth kisses, your hands scratching at his back, forcing him impossibly closer to you. His face pinked in pleasure, harsh breaths strangling out airing your face.

Your apartment keys tumbling out your hands in a single swift motion, clattering against the floor. He’s all over you. Broad hands tugging at the hem of your shirt. Hoisting the thing above, now off of you. Your arms coming up with his before locking around his neck. Lace black bra on full display. His hungry gaze drifted to them, lingering. The curve of your breasts. The fullness. The way your nipples poked through the fabric. Awe didn’t begin to cover the way he ogled at your tits. The way he looked at them was deeper, almost reverent.

Obsessive.

You’ve both found the nearest wall, your sweat filled back pressing into it. Lifting ever so often with how your chest chases after him. He brings a hand to one of them, squeezing just right. Enough to cause pressure, but not enough to elicit pain from you. Can’t do that. He wouldn’t dream of it. You’re so precious to him, so perfect. Can’t ruin you just yet. He claws at your top pulling down in one swift tug. Tits spilling out in a perfect motion, as though flowers were breaking through their petals. You bloomed. He’s quick to grab hold of one of them, large hands swallowing it whole. The raw feeling now. You’re so warm. So pliable in his hands. He gives another experimental knead. Playing with you. Testing it.

Your pebbled nipple, glossing over his palm. You can’t fight the sound that leaves you. A soft mewl.

“Hnntoji!”

Back arching into it, needing more. Eyes unfocusing, you head slightly lulled back. A soft thud on the wall.

“Eyes on me.”

His free hand grips the back of your neck, pulling your face flush against his. Lips meeting in a hurried passionate kiss. Tongues entwining. Wet sounds of your lips filled the void.

“Mnnchu— Toji..I want more.”

“Yeah you want more?” He says in an almost whisper. Hot breath ghosting over your lips. You’re nodding pathetically, he can’t help but find it adorable. He snickers a bit.

“Tell me hm? Tell me sweet girl.” Eager eyes searching yours.

“I.. I need your fingers.” The words leave your lips so quietly, like a fragile thread of sound, barely audible. He catches them anyway. So focused on your every move. Watching your wet lips, a sensual glint in his eyes.

“Need to hear you baby.” He teases, a small smirk fighting his lips. You’re throbbing at the nicknames. Sounding so easy off his tongue.

“Your fingers… ‘need them.” Your eyes snap close in shame, a silent surrender. Cheeks deepened in colour, prominent. Lips quivering in small unnoticed waves.

“Yeah? Where d’ya want me?” Another taunt.

“..Inside.” You hesitate. An eye peeking open at him. Waiting. Hoping he doesn’t tease you some more.

“Hnnfuck yeah ya do.” With a groan, he brings his hands further down your body. Hurried tugs of your jeans and you’re left in your underpants only. Matching black with your bra, beautiful lace patterns on the top. His greedy eyes peer down at them. Sucking in a slow breath, his fingers tremble over them. As if he’s too scared to go any further. He’s not scared though. Far from it. He trails his index and middle down your shuddering stomach, passing your belly button, down to the top of your panties. Slowly hooking them into it, he’s dragging it down, past your sweaty thighs until it falls on its own.

A hand by the bottom of your thighs, he’s trailing it up, brushing against it. You’re waiting with a bated breath. Finally reaching your mound. Softly trimmed hairs sweep against his rigid fingers. He bites back a groan. You’re just there, eyes blown, helplessly waiting for him to keep going.

He has to fight his eyes away from your pussy.

“Gonna show me where your room is?” Haggard voice. So clearly affected by you.

“Y—yeah.”

He hauls you up into him, bulging biceps, your legs wrapped around his trimmed waist, arms around his neck, your face buried into it. Heavy thuds on the ground, he’s walking slowly. Almost too slow. Certain, assured that he’s going to have you. No arguments. Just measured steps as you lift your face off of him just a tad, timidly pointing to where your room is. He gives a small pat on your ass as thanks. It ripples under his massive hand.

Toji finds your bed, lowers you onto it so delicately as if you were something so fragile. His knees digging into the sheets. Shoes off. Still fully clothed while you lay bare for him. Large hands cradling your face, stroking softly. The look he’s giving you, so loving. Blushing cheeks, slightly ajar mouth. Hot puffs of air leaving every exhale. You’re giving him an equal stare. Dazed. Scared almost. Needy. His knuckles, brushing your heated cheeks. He felt the warmth. Knows how much you want this, just as bad as he does.

He’s leisurely taking his time with you. Running his hands from your cheeks to your neck. He lingers there. Giving you a soft squeeze, testing your limits. You don’t fight back. Can’t fight back.

The orgasm you had earlier, still fogging your brain. His thumb brushes the front of your neck before he continues down. To the valley between your breasts, your belly, to your lower belly. He points an index below your belly button still touching your soft skin.

“Gonna be in there soon.” He whispers. His voice, so quiet it sounds like awe. You just stare at him, a bit confused. Head tilting a little. Slightly squinted brows. Then your eyes follow down to where his finger touches you. Blinking softly. He chuckles at your unfocused gaze. You don’t understand. Not yet.

He continues drifting his fingers down, meeting your hairs. Your hips stutter only just a bit. He marvels at the movement. So sensitive. He brings his other hand down, pushing your thighs away from each other. Revealing a soaked you. Glistening pussy on display, your clit fairly protruding out, throbbing under his devoted eyes.

“Fuck me..” He murmurs. Breath hitching at the sight of you, all wet, all for him. You try to hide from him. Head turning to the side, digging into your pillow, face tucked into your elbows. You can’t see him now. He doesn’t mind.

Toji lowers his face, lining his mouth to your pussy. Deep heavy breaths escaping his lips, fanning your clit.

“Angh!” You jolt your hips. Pressing your face closer into your elbow. He darts his low eyes at your hidden face. Blows a cold, long breath on your clit.

“Hnn!” You’re mewling, voice muffled in your arms.

“Can you look at me..please.” His voice partly whiney.

You don’t want to. Too shy, too embarrassed to let him see you like this. It was all fun and games before. But it’s becoming too real. He blows at your clit once more. A tremor running through you, your lower body mainly. Small involuntary movements. You move an arm just above your eyes, you can see him a bit. He can see you too. The dilation of your eyes, the fuzzy look of it. The heaving of your chest, just enough that your tits bounce every inhale. It’s all too much for him. He shouldn’t have asked.

Once your eyes are on his, he moves. Closer now. Just a hair away from your weeping pussy. He juts a wet tongue out, pushing past his lips. Slowly, ever so slowly, curling the muscle against your clit. The moment you feel it, you whine. Teeth pulling at your lower lip. Not over his clothes, not over your clothes. His tongue. The raw thing.

He gives another slow curl, this time staring lower. Near your opening. Sliding upwards, meeting your clit before blowing. Cold. Shuddering, you try to close your thighs, locking his head in place. He’s quicker. Grabbing below your thighs, hiking them up on his broad wide shoulders.

“You’re okay. Hm?” He assures you before continuing.

He’s way stronger than you, you couldn’t fight back if you tried. He dives in again, sucking hard all of a sudden.

Slurrrp

Your heads lulled back, the front of your neck on full display. Holding in whines, that barely leave your lips. Arms still above you.

He brings his mouth off of your clit and blows again. Another wave of cold air gliding on your pussy.

“Fuck!” You moan out. Loud. You bring an arm down, your hand finding his hair, tugging him into you. He lets you. Forcing his face into your pussy.

Sucking, slurping. Full French kisses on your pussy. Tongue jutting out before sliding between your slit, not entering you yet, just parting you. It slides from the entrance of your hole up to your clit. He waits there, sucking the aching muscle into his mouth. Hollow pink cheeks. His eyes closed in pleasure. Admiration. His crush, letting him eat her out. He’s dreamed of this.

He teases his tongue, gliding lower, circling back up to your clit then lower again. You’re shaking violently, eyes tight shut, mouth hanging open. The sounds you tried so hard to fight back leaving you so easily now.

His tongue circles your hole. Pushing in slowly.

“Toji!” You mewl out to him. He knows you’re getting close.

He hums into you. You cry out. Back lifting. He removes his wet mouth again, an inch of distance from him and your pussy. He blows. A familiar coldness on your clit. Quivering hips, bucking into the coolness. Chasing that feeling. You’re crying now. Tears rolling down your cheeks, staining the sheets.

An abrupt orgasm ripping through you, a fast build up pooling at your stomach that you couldn’t realise quickly.

You’re shaking so much now, whining so much, thighs jutting beside him. Your chest heaving vigorously, tits swaying. He doesn’t stop.

Tongue plunging back in. Bringing a rough thumb to your clit. Circling it. You attempt to run away. Hips bucking the opposite direction. He uses his free hand and grounds you. Digging you into him, the bed. You can barely move. Just violent trembles as he eats your pussy.

“Insi— hngh!”

He fucks his way inside your pussy. Tongue delving in, whilst keeping harsh circles of his thumb on your clit. Fuck it’s all too much for you. No one’s ever done this before. He’s gonna ruin anyone else for you.

Shlck shlck

Wet noises of your pussy filling the room. He’s groaning into you. Deep baritone noises buried in your cunt. Your arms are everywhere now. Gripping the sheets below, your pillow above.

“Toooo much! Ugh!” Moaning loud. Your face twisting, burying the noises into your pillow.

He’s locked you in place. Moving is so much harder now. Meaty biceps flexing at every thrum of your clit. Your juices, his saliva drooling out the corners of his lips. He’s so into it. Engrossed. Eyes still closed, just feeling you. He’s overwhelming you. Pushing your body past limits you didn’t know you had.

You’re nearly there again. But it’s slightly different this time? It feels warmer. Wetter almost? You can’t really tell but you know it’s different.

“Toji! I think— hck! It’s ouhfuck!” Your voice pitches higher and higher, need tightening it, edged with a hint of fear.

He doesn’t stop. Still tongue fucking your pussy, pushing as deep as it can go. Thumb circling against your clit, harder, faster. It’s all too much. Your back’s arched in a gracious bow, hips lifted, legs falling on and off his shoulders. Tears clogging your vision. You can’t see him. The build up coiling so perfectly you can’t hold it in.

It’s everywhere, your juices spraying out, covering his face. Squirting all over. Pink cheeks stained in wetness. His glasses, fully fogged now wet.

“That’s it baby, let go f’r me.. mhmm soo good f’r me.” Thumb under your clit, pushing it higher, letting more of your juices out. He’s kissing your shakes thighs, wet open-mouthed. Sucking slightly. Trailing the kissing up to your knees, while humming praises at you.

Your wailing, sobbing. Breathing turns uneven, your chest stuttering at every tremble. Tits following along.

He sits up on his knees, bringing a wet hand removing his stained glasses, to the hem of his shirt, lifting it in one quick tug. Then his t-shirt underneath. Unbuttoning. Top to bottom. His low eyes still fixed on your quivering state. You roll your tired head upright, facing him. Watching. Chest falling softer now.

Sculpted, taut contours of his abdomen come into view, hard, rock-like muscles that look engraved. The t-shirt falls past his arms, beefy veiny biceps, strong forearms flexing as he removes it fully. You’re in awe. You knew Toji was strong but nothing like this. Sharp deep lines of his abdomen, the ease of his movements. You can’t take your eyes off.

He lowers his hands to his belt, unraveling the thing easily. He steps off of your bed for a second. Your eyes follow him. He’s dragging his slacks down. Two hard tugs and it pools at his ankles, he steps out of it. Dark hairs littered at his lower hard stomach.

You see the meaty indent of his boxers. Bulging, thick muscle fighting against the fabric, pushing at it. It’s so big. Much bigger than you thought. It throbs under your stare.

He’s put you under a spell. You see his hands come to the top of his boxers, his thumb hooking under, disappearing into his boxers. Your gasp goes unnoticed. Lips parted, eagerly waiting to see the rest of him. His thumb pulls down, fully exposing himself. You finally see it. Angry reddish tip, nearly purple, beady clear drops of precum leaking through, falling from the head nearing the base. Thick, girthy, too long. Distended veins running up the sides, a prominent one running up the top of his shaft. Heavy hanging balls, darker than the rest of him. It’s fucking huge. Full eight inches of raw cock. Your eyes almost pop out. Fully in disbelief of that fitting inside. It can’t possibly fit.

He hauls the boxer until it falls to his feet, steps out of it and onto the bed again. Knees digging back into the sheets. A weighted dent on the bed. Pure muscle. You haven’t stopped staring at it, nearly drooling, he’s eating up your reaction. Chuckling. Body vibrating at the rumble. You’re still in a daze, he’s gripping your hips, both hands, pulling you closer so your thighs rest atop his. Feet hanging off the side. He grabs the weapon in between his legs. Gives a few slow pumps of his fist. Squeezing at the tip, moaning low. You throb at the sound, shifting a little. Fingers tightly grasping the sheets below.

He lowers it, lining it with your clit, rubbing around it, circling it. Realll slow. Pushing into it, past it til the tips catches your hairs. He grunts at the feel. Heavy breath puffing out his nose. Brows knitted. You hiccup a broken moan. Lips parted. Wet.

He rubs it further into your hairs again, biting his lower lip before bringing it to your sopping hole. Both sodden. Hot.

A slow push of his hips, he’s entering. The tip stretching your virgin hole. Plush, mushroomed. He halts. The pressure, too fucking tight. He’ll work you open. Has to. He retracts his hips, turns you over so your back is against his chest. You're both laying on your side. It feels too intimate this way. He’s hugging your body so close to his. Spooning you. Not letting you go. A hand wrapped around your waist. The other, fondling your tits.

“Gonna take you this way.” His voice rumbles in your ear, he gives a steady long stripe of his tongue against it. A throaty groan leaving him. You wiggle on him, whining. Your ass bumping his cock every few turns.

He reaches a hand down to his cock, bringing it to your hole once again. Pushing in heavily. Tip nudging further. A few inches getting in. A quarter way. He brings his free arm up, covering your neck, your teeth gnawing at his swollen bicep, his forearm. Tears springing at the edges of your eyes. Wetting your lashes again.

“Hnngh!” You whinge out. Inaudible words pouring out.

“I know baby, I know.. I know it’s too big.” He encourages you, voice rough, laced in pleasure.

Another few inches forcing their way in.

“Toji! F—fuck!”

“Shh. I’ve got you.” He reassures.

He’s easing in slow. A couple more now. Your pussy sucking him in so well. Soo good. He’s nearly at the base. He abruptly stops. The wet heat of your cunt trapping him in place. Clinging onto him. He might cum if you move. He digs his face into your hair, breathing in deep, eyes fluttering. An unhurried push of his hips and he’s all in. Burly inches of his cock stretching you so deep. Your eyes are rolled back from the feel.

It’s not that it hurts. It did. But it was that uncomfortable stretch. The fullness of his cock edging deeper. An unfamiliar feeling yet, you felt completely whole.

Fully sheathed inside you. You feel it throbbing, every rigid vein, every pulse. Pressing at your cervix. Bruising.

“Fuck, ‘got a deep cunt— nghhfuck.”

“Toji.. please— something! Do something!” You cry into his elbow. Voice muffled. It hurts. An aching sensation. You feel little throbs of his cock hitting places you’ve never reached before. Never felt before. And he’s soo deep. Way too deep.

With a husky groan, he retreats his hips back and steadily rocks into you. Long, deep strokes thumping at your cervix. Balls hammering, his strong hips flush against your ass. Rippling with every thrust. The tip of his stiff cock, gliding through you, bumping your g-spot. You feel it once. Twice. Then you're smacking at his hip, arm reaching behind you. Pleading with him to let you go. It’s too good. You can’t take it.

“Ffuck off. Hnn!” Moaning, fussing into his flexed bicep. Wet eyes. You’re urging your shaky hips away. Scrambling forward, desperate.

“You want me to fuck off?” He sneers back at you. Laughing into the spot behind your ear. Breath fanning it.

“N—no. I don’t knoww.” You weep, sniffling. Tears pouring down his forearm.

“You don’t know?” He’s snickering.

His pace quickens. Deep fast strokes, you feel it in your throat. Your gaze turns unfocused, eyes forced back. Your nose buried in his arm, hot breaths leaving your soppy lips. You’re kissing his arm. Biting. Marking him. Grounding yourself as he plummets your insides. Turning you to a putty mess. You’re gone. So far gone. He’s snaking a hand up, pinching your nipples, rolling the buds in his fingers. You’re wailing loud. Juddering.

A familiar torrid ache forming at your lower belly.

“O—oh my godhnn!” It doesn’t even settle in your belly. Wrenching out of you intensely. So incredibly. You couldn’t hold it in even if you tried. Too sensitive.

“Yeah? ‘You cumming again?” Teasing you. Low voice gone breathy.

“Nghh!” With a groan, you’re coming down. Tits bouncing, your body so very warm. He’s helping you through it. Slower strokes. Still bumping your spot. You whimper.

“Nghstopp!” Crying out, begging. A hand clutching at his, scratching. The other, clasping at the wet sheets. Smudged with the mixture of sweat and cum.

He doesn’t stop. Instead, he hauls his burly body, shifting his weight so he’s fully on top of you. His face, closer to you. Near your left ear. You’re crushed underneath him. Belly flat on the bed. He’s locking an arm around your neck once again, bringing the hand on that arm to your face, covering it. You can’t move, at all. He’s clamped your lower body in place. His other arm, steady beside you. Contorted. Tensed. His veins are more prominent like this.

Wet lashes brushing your cheeks, your mouth now muffled in his larger hand.

“Mhhhhn!” You try to kick your legs, but it can only fold at the knee. Your claves touching the back of your thighs. You can’t move your thighs. Can’t part them. His hefty body won’t allow you.

He does a lengthy grind into you. His happy trail flushed at your ass. He hasn’t pulled out the entire time, not giving you an ounce of space.

He keeps at it. Deep grinds, his tip knocking at your cervix. Pressed so heavy against it. Stretching you impossibly further.

Haggard breaths, uneven moans brush at your ear. He’s getting closer now. Hips stuttering in broken circles.

You’re completely out of it. Dumbed. Fully. Can’t think of anything but the feel of his cock so far deep in your pussy. The veins. The bumps. And god you’re so sensitive. Another quickening build up of warmth steadily rising in your stomach.

“Fuckfuckfuck—”

Another few irregular rolls of his hips and he’s cumming. White thick hot beads of cum discharging into you. He won’t stop moving. Pushing it as deep as it can go, making sure you don’t spill a drop.

You’re numb. Body limp under him. Arms flat at your sides. Eyes fully rolled back, coarse hot air puffing past your lips.

He’s grunting atop of you. Moaning low, still feeling the white hot pleasure of his cum, your pussy. Especially your pussy.

He brings an arm up, rough hands palming, rubbing your back in slow gentle movements.

“From now on, just let me teach you everything, yeah?”

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

A/n: lawdfddd I need him so bad. Also this wasn’t proofread.

@toj1sleftnut <33

© hughjass ࿔˚⋅-> Don’t transcribe or translate into anything else. Thank ya <3

[irenethecoolest]

I judge men for having severe corn addictions knowing damn well I read smut every night

[blurbish]

" oh, hello! "

content!! choso x fem!reader, alt/emo!cho, both are major music nerds, reader collects cds & records, horrible flirting skills all around (choso's the main culprit), pure fluff...and not a single beta reader :p

w.c!! 1.8k

author's note: guess who's back! sorry for not posting...this is an older fic i wrote a couple weeks ago but didn't publish and, again, is pretty self-indulgent im sorry!!! i feel like i only really post about cho...BUT if anyone has any requests id be glad to try writing another character haha! alright love ya bye <3 promise ill start writing more frequently...

there's a certain art to music collecting that, to some, might seem nonexistent. you, however, learned the secrets to this form of collecting the moment you stepped into your first independent record store years ago.

that's not saying you're a music "snob" though. it's just that after being into music for so long, your taste has become a bit more eccentric, thereby making the search for the perfect seller of music a long and tiresome one. you've tried almost everything: going across the country, wandering down shady basements, finding yourself in basically every flea market in your town, just to avoid spending hundreds of dollars online for one out-of-print CD. after a while, with little to no luck, you just decided to become a local of the limited record store in the nearest city to you, praying every time you enter the doors that they may have something interesting for once.

well, that was until you heard from your roommate that a new record store was opening up near you.

according to your roommate, who to this day you still don't know how she found this out, this new record store specialized in rarer, more "unconventional" releases, after the owner went through a similarly grating journey to find good music around his hometown. the moment you heard this, your ears perked up, and you started to count down the days until its grand opening.

naturally, on the day of, you sprinted down to the bus stop and planted yourself firmly in front of the sticker-covered glass doors, arriving two hours early. sadly, after the hour-and-a-half mark, there was still no line. maybe you were a bit overzealous. despite the slight embarrassment washing over you, you didn't move.

after another thirty minutes of waiting, a tall man walked up to the building. he smelt faintly of cigarette smoke and roses, and you could hear the buckles of his shoes clanking together under his dark denim jeans from a mile away. the moment you looked up at his face, you felt your feet wobble. to be frank, he might have been the most beautiful man you had ever seen in your life. his face looked like it had been carved with marble, and his gorgeous features were highlighted by multiple facial piercings and a tattoo across his high nose bridge. his eyes, a deep brown shade, were complimented by the dark circles under them. paired with his pale skin, he looked almost undead, but in a weird, sexy way that made you produce way more spit than a normal person should in an entire week.

unaware of how long you'd been staring at this mysterious man, the halt of his hand on the door handle and the tilt of his head made you jolt in place. his eyebrows furrowed in pure confusion, and you quickly turned away from his gaze and gulped, trying to find a way out of this situation that didn't include you running straight into oncoming traffic. your eyes quickly found their way to the t-shirt covering the man's broad chest. you had to physically shake out the thought of him shirtless from your mind. it was a rites of spring shirt, a band you thankfully knew a good deal about and happened to like yourself.

"i...uh, like your shirt. rites of spring is great," you mumbled out, still trying to avoid as much eye contact as possible.

the man sighed in relief. "oh, thank god! i thought you were staring because of how i look or something," he let out an airy chuckle, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck while the other pushed the door to the record store open, holding it open for you to walk inside.

you laughed awkwardly. "what? you look good! i mean, you…" your words trailed off as the man turned on the lights. your eyes immediately lit up as you practically sprinted across the small store towards a display of albums you swore were impossible to find. "holy shit, your selection is amazing! how did you find this?" you asked while picking up a cd, "i swear this was a limited, one-time release!"

the man, both startled and somewhat amused, looked at your wide and bright eyes and chuckled to himself before mindlessly fidgeting with one of the rings on his long fingers. "it took a long time to find that one…i, uh, spend a lot of time scouring the internet i guess…" as you start wandering the store, the man stays a few steps behind you.

picking up another cd from across the store, you gasp loud enough to make the man's head immediately jolt towards your direction. "oh my god. i can't believe you have this! i've been looking for this for years! you're actually my savior," you ramble out, earning a small blush from the man as he stared down at the floor, trying to avoid both your stare and praise.

"…i-it's nothing, really…i'm just passionate about music, y'know," he whispers to himself with a newfound shyness, still keeping his eyes glued to the ground, making you smirk.

with the sound of your chuckle, he looks back towards you meekly. "aw, don't get shy on me now! being this passionate is something to be admired, you know," you state, grin cemented firmly on your face as you tilt your head to look at the hunched over man, now reminding you of a pitiful puppy.

for a while, the man stays quiet, following you around as you gawk at his collection of records, cds, and tapes, while also using him as your own personal shopping basket. he didn't have the heart to tell you that there were baskets outside next to the door.

growing a little uncomfortable with the man's silence, you decide to break the ice. "so, what made you want to open up a store all the way out here? i mean, i'm obviously not complaining, but wouldn't you get better business if you, i don't know, were located in a bigger city?" you ask as you climb a small stool to reach a top shelf, turning your head to watch him as he answers

"you know, you're actually not the first person to ask me that," he chuckles, looking up at you. "my younger brother goes to school not that far from here. i wanted to move closer to him just because i like being around him, so after seeing a listing for an apartment over here as well as an open storefront, i thought i would just kill two birds with one stone," every word from the man was deeply earnest, drawing you more and more into his explaination.

"i know that, to some people, it may be a little weird to want to spend most of your time with your siblings, but i guess it was just how i was raised. i care for all of my brothers a lot, so it just seemed natural to move closer to my youngest, i guess," the man's face suddenly turned red, diverting his gaze back to the floor once again.

"s-sorry for, uhm, rambling. i got carried away," he let out an embarrassed breath, that of which you guess was supposed to come off as a laugh. you begin frown as you stare at the man who seemed to be attempting to crawl into his own skin to escape this interaction. you reach out to place a hand on his shoulder, causing him to look up from where he was staring at on his boots.

"i think that's really sweet, you shouldn't be embarrassed about it. it's always nice to hear about close families. i'm sure that—" your words of reassurance are quickly cut off by you stumbling off of the stepping stool and right into the man, sending you both down to ground as you yelped and he squeaked.

"holy shit, i'm so sorry! i'm such a klutz," you apologize profusely to the man caged in under you.

"i-it's okay, it's not your…gulp…f-fault," the man stutters out, seemingly turning even more red, attempting to cover his crimson cheeks with now-loose brown strands that fell from his space buns. you look at him with a puzzled look for a second, before your eyes widen and you quickly move off of him.

"sorry, for that…i, uh…" you chuckle softly, looking away from the man still lying on the ground, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. after what feels like an eternity of awkward silence, you turn back towards him, starting to pick up your large stack of albums that now lay scattered across the floor. as you turn fully back, however, you slam your head into his, making you stumble back down to the ground with a wince. the man quickly reaches out for your hand to pull you back into a sitting position, faces only inches away from each other.

you both share a long glance, flickering between each other's lips and eyes, before chuckling awkwardly and picking up your large pile, standing up at the same time. he leads you over the cash register and starts ringing you up, the store soon falling back to pure silence.

"you know, i never caught your name," you blurt out, his face quickly finding its way to yours.

"oh, uhm, it's choso," he mumbles out, anxiously biting his lip. you're not sure why he's anxious, but you don't want to pry. you tell him your name just as he finishes ringing you up and you pay.

"bye…cho," you turn to say to him teasingly, a grin painting your face that makes him almost choke on air. you make your way halfway through the door before choso is shouting out behind you.

"wait! would you, uh, well i guess i just wanted to ask—"

"yes, cho, i'd like to go out with you," you cut him off, turning on your heels back towards the bumbling owner. you grab his hand and take a sharpie laying on the counter, previously used to write the genre separators, scribbling down your phone number before giving him a small peck on his cheek.

"hope you enjoy it here, and don't forget to call me," you say with a smile as you lean away from his face and walk out the store, leaving him stuttering and blushing like a virgin.

as a result of this excursion, you spent $375.85 on music and managed to score a potential date with the man of your dreams.

choso ended up with the number and a kiss from the most gorgeous woman he has ever laid his eyes on and enough money to take that woman out for a very nice dinner the upcoming weekend.

for both of you, this experience was probably one of the best either of you have had in a long time, and you can both thank that to your eclectic music tastes. all hail the music lords up above.

author's note: not completely sure if i fuck with this. oh well! at least i may get another person into rites of spring that's all that matters ❤️

[rottinghampalace]

all hail the music lords up above

[rottinghampalace]

PRETTY FVCKING NEIGHBOR. I | c.k. x afab reader

m masterbation, overstim, mentions of smoking, 18+

-i dont think we should do this anymore..- 3:33 am

choso got the text at 3:33 am, but didn’t read it until the next morning when he got up to pack his dorm. he knows you know when his semester ends, and he knows for a fact that you did this so he wouldn’t come back with expectations, but he’s been waiting all year for summer to start. he’s been waiting since he came back to his campus, counting down the months until he could return to the city and see his pretty fucking neighbor.. and maybe more.

he sets down a box and strips off his black tee that’s already damp with sweat to wipe his brow, because now he’s hot. fuming, actually. he could tear down a home at the thought of being denied the one thing that got him through another year of his studies without blowing his head off (literally). instead of voicing his disdain, he responds casually in that cool yet snipped tone he always holds when he has much more to say.

-And what is this?- 10:28 am

when you get the text, you open it from the banner on accident, but you know he’s seen the read receipt. instead of leaving him on seen, you type and untype random letters until you can figure out a response to his dry ass message. this? you start to write back, but flinch, imagining how his eye will be twitching, how his hand is probably already inching toward that mint vape he always has in his back pocket.

-i just think we should be friends- 10:30 am

-We are friends.- 10:30 am

his response is like lightning: quick, final, and it makes your stomach flip. memories of the last time you both were being "friendly" flood back instantly. the smell of sweat, his cologne, and smoke from the fat blunt he rolled as an excuse to get you over before your semesters started and you left for 9 months to hardly talk or text. the sesh was enough for you both to get smoked out and loose your pants before the wood was even finished.

but in your defense, he’s too much. too much for you and certainly too much for your poor pussy, and to make matters worse, he knows. he knows all he has to do is bat those low eyes, wet his lips, and you’re already half way in his lap. the smoke must have clouded your judgement because you meant to break it off last year, but he knows you’re too weak for it, and that makes everything so much more difficult.

so a simple title like “friends” makes heat shoot between your legs at the thought of him between them, and it rises up to your cheeks at the audacity he has to act stupid.

-friends dont fuck on weekends, cho..- 10:32 am

rolling over onto your stomach, your thumbs fly across the keyboard, eyes narrowed at the screen as you see him already typing up a (no doubt sarcastic) response.

-i dont want to be fucking my friends.- 10:32 am

you finish off and send it, closing your chat with shaky hands as you hear the device vibrate twice in a row when you set it down. tossing it to the other side of the bed, you curl up against your pillows, eyeing it with a level of anxiety that disturbs your cat all the way across the room where she was napping. she uncurls with a curt chirp and saunters away, leaving you and the buzzing, offending thing across from you alone.

the buzzing finally stops, and when you summon the nerve to check it after 5 minutes of silence, it’s immediately thrown across the room with a loud groan.

-I’ll see you in a few days.- 10:47 am

。… 。

and he meant that whole heartedly. even when you live next door to one another’s apartments, you swear he’s never been this present before. you see him when you go to get mail, in the hallway after work, and the elevator, forcing you to start taking the stairs. you’ve made avoiding choso a top priority within 30 feet of your apartment building, and that includes in the gym and the laundry room. he watches your back steadily every chance he gets, eyeing the new way you started doing your hair, the new piercing you got during the spring, the stickers you added to your headphones, greedily drinking up everything about you during botched attempts at conversation and stolen glances.

because this is also what hes been deprived of: noticing without the burden of a disturbing your peace. he’s not getting to see the differences in you since he last saw you, and there are so many.

your eyes seem sharper, your wardrobe has new colors to it, and maybe it’s the way your pants have been fitting, but he swears your ass is even perkier, and he’s been so hungry. hungry enough to knock on your door with the excuse of needing sugar, but you won’t invite him in. he offers you dinner, but you insist you’ve already eaten. he asks to use your shower because his “broke”, but all you do is leave the building until he’s done and gone.

it’s become so much that after 2 weeks of being neighbors again, he’s started waiting by his door to catch you in the hallway, but you’re just so damn fast. it all comes to a head on friday night when he’s sitting in his room alone. again. his back to your shared wall and his cock aching in his pants for a taste, a smell, a look at you and that pretty pussy you won’t let him have anymore.

he sits with his back to your wall and a pillow against his spine, legs open and trembling as he slowly takes his cock out of his sweats. he turned off his aircon despite the summer heat. there’s not a single machine in his apartment to create noise pollution right now because he knows that if he puts his ear to the wall and holds his breath, he can hear the fuzzy outline of your voice on the phone. he should feel insane for how much that alone turns him on. choso’s hand grips his shaft, thumbing at the silver stud pierced at his tip, rolling the jewelry and bucking his hips, remembering how you used to play with his piercings. how they felt against your tongue when you licked them. he swears subconsciously he got them in preparation for how much you would love them despite not knowing you at the time.

he releases his breath at last, moaning and sliding down the wall as blood rushes to his head from the suffocation, but it only makes the heat coiling in his stomach all the more unbearable. his hand wrapped around the tip of his cock at some point, squeezing in slow, steady pulses to mimic the way it feels when hes slipping inside the tight entrance of your cunt —before he’s stretched you to his shape. his lips part in a whine and he gives a tighter squeeze, thighs shifting further apart at how it hurts so good.

but its not enough.

he slaps the tip against his navel once, twice, precum wetting his happy trail, moaning your name with a low timber and shaky breath. his hand doesn’t feel like yours. it’s certainly not your wet warmth —not the slick pussy he’s grown so attached to that for the first week or two on campus, he couldn’t cum because he missed it so badly. the thought of being shut out after 3 years of hook ups has him crying through his teeth as he strokes. but still, his hand only moves faster and faster, precum drips down to make the slide sinful. his hand squeezes out more when he tightens his fist, but he can only writhe against the wall.

its pathetic. and he thinks as much somewhere in the back of his mind as he turns his cheek to the wall to try and listen for more as wet sounds fill the room. he continues pumping his cock to the memory of his pretty fucking neighbor who doesn’t want him anymore, even though he would fuck however which way for however long to satisfy.

“why why why why baby, what did i do?” his voice grows louder, groans and whimpers becoming obscene and bleeding into something that could be crying if he admitted to the damp streaks ruining his liner. a sick, desperate part of him that’s starting to seem less like a characteristic and more like a trait hopes —prays— that you’re on the other side of the wall listening. that you hear him calling for you, furiously pumping his dick because he misses you so, so, so much. his abs tense as his eyes close, salivating, head spinning because he swears he can taste you now. sweet, creamy, and so sensitive that he could stay between your legs for hours and always get a new reaction to the tongue piercing you love so much.

sweat plasters long, dark hair to his forehead and the tattoo across his face crinkles as his nose scrunches, breaths heavy as the pressure builds. “baby.. my baby..” he mumbles, dazed, eyes unfocused as he imagines you above him, pussy wet and dripping because in his fantasies, you miss him too. you would tease him, rub your soft clit on his nose, and he would nuzzle into your folds to let you know he needs this just as much, maybe even more. his hand grips the sheet like he would grip your thigh to pull you down to his mouth, and he would groan as you whimper, sucking the nectar from your cunt with all his might, desperate for a taste.

when he cums, he does so because in his filthy mind: you just came with him, dripping juices down his chin that he would eagerly lap up. his cock twitches in his hand, painting his stomach and chest. theres no rest between esctasy and using his slick to pump faster, harder, because if you were doing it, you wouldn’t stop until he came again. so he keeps going, collapsing onto the mattress and arching like a cat in heat while he tugs his cock until it's flushed and leaking again. tears spill, and he realizes he never went soft. doesn’t think he has the ability to be anything but achingly yours, not when you’re so heavily on his mind. masterbation be damned.

he plays with the ladder studs lining his shaft, tugging them with one hand and using the other as a pitiful substitute for your pussy to thrust his tip into. his hips buck, and the bed creaks under his weight so much theres no way the rhythmic knocking against your wall doesnt tip you off that something is happening. but what would you think? he imagines you on the other side, ear to the paint like he was, listening to him try and fail to hide his whorish sounds in a pillow. would you be disgusted? would you be intrigued? would you think he was fucking someone else, or do you hear him calling your name between the way he whimpers “my baby” and “my favorite pussy” into the air? do you even care? he whines again, squeezing his tip until tears prick his eyes, but the image of how you would look with your fingers in those lace panties he adores, listening to him fall apart... that makes his eyes snap to the back of his head.

his cock throbs in his palm as he cums, the sensation of an orgasm hitting him before he actually spills, and shaking him so hard he can hear his teeth rattling. leaking against his stomach, the cum has long since cooled and dried on feverish skin before his eyes finally start to see again. not even bothering to clothe himself, choso drags his body to the kitchen, washing and cupping his hands for water instead of getting a glass, head still hazy with the thought of his pretty fucking neighbor. he groans loudly, and it echoes in the space as choso realizes that he truly has a problem.

and he’s still so fucking hard.

。… 。

1.9k ish words idk i wrote this at 4 am. ill post again maybe

[rottinghampalace]

hot girl shit cumming soon