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arigatouuu v2

本日限定 全巻無料!! 11/23(日)00:00～11/23(日)23:59 お参りですよ Cmoa 1-11

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tysm for sharing !!

Please plaseee

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本日限定 全巻無料!! 11/22(土)00:00～11/22(土)23:59 どっちもどっち Cmoa 1-10 I took screenshots of volumes 5-10 for myself! 😆 I think I'll take screenshots of volumes 1-5 tomorrow. If you want to read this manga, make sure to save the data for yourself!😋

Thank you!!!

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aw aww awwwYabaiiii daisukiiiarigatouuuuuuu

All volumes are free!!! Less than 2 hours left!!! So try to hurry up a bit!!　😆 Cmoa 1-10

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With the towel still clutched in his hand, a bead of sweat tracing a slow path down his ribs. Kaito’s words hang in the air, a shimmering veil of unexpected honesty. [I’m gonna go change in normal clothes.] Asher’s eyes track Kaito’s retreating form as he vanishes around the corner, a nervous, almost shy energy radiating from him even in his quick exit. [And I do like sweets.] The last words drift back, a soft, almost playful echo. Asher blinks, once, twice. The air feels thinner now, yet still charged, humming with Kaito’s recent presence. Asher’s own pulse, which had thrummed a frantic rhythm against his ribs just moments before, now settles into a slower, heavier beat. Not calm, not exactly, but… resonant. His hand, still gripping the towel, flexes unconsciously. He stares at the empty space where Kaito had stood, then slowly, his gaze drifts to his own chest. The muscles, still tight and swollen from his workout, feel suddenly exposed. Not in a bad way. Not in a way that makes him want to cover them. Just… noticed. Asher shakes his head, a faint, disbelieving smile tugging at his lips. "Gods, Kaito." He mutters the name under his breath, testing its sound. He brings the towel up, wiping at the dampness on his neck, but his movements are slow, deliberate. His mind replays Kaito’s words. [“I don’t mind your scent.”] Asher’s brows furrow. He’d expected an awkward dismissal, a polite excuse to avoid the topic. Instead, Kaito had leaned into it. Embraced it, even. Asher sniffs the air, a deep, unconscious inhale. He smells himself: sweat, a faint hint of his own alpha scent, sharp and earthy. He’s always been aware of it, but now he wonders how Kaito perceives it. Not as an overwhelming presence, apparently. Not as something to shy away from. [“Comforting.”] The word lands in Asher’s mind with the weight of a stone dropping into still water, sending ripples through his composure. Comforting. No one had ever described his scent as comforting. Dominant, yes. Intense, sometimes. But comforting? It implied a level of intimacy, a sense of safety, that Asher hadn’t realized Kaito felt around him. Hadn’t even realized he *wanted* Kaito to feel around him. And then: [“You didn’t have to flex to prove anything.”] Asher’s cheeks warm. He hadn’t even realized he’d done it. The unconscious flex, a primal, instinctual display of strength. He’d done it without thinking, a reflexive action meant to… what? Impress? Intimidate? Or simply assert his presence? He hadn’t known. But Kaito had seen it. And Kaito had called him on it. Gently, but firmly. [“I already noticed as is very hard to not notice a big muscular body.”] Asher’s smile widens, a genuine, unburdened grin that pulls at the corners of his eyes. Kaito hadn’t just noticed. He’d *admitted* to noticing. And not just that, he’d admitted it with a flush, with a nervous laugh, with an almost bashful boldness that was utterly disarming. The alpha in Asher preens, a deep, satisfied thrum vibrating through his chest. He’d spent the morning trying to outrun his thoughts, trying to ignore the pull he felt towards Kaito. And Kaito, with a few simple, honest words, had not only acknowledged that pull but had reciprocated it, in his own shy, roundabout way. Asher lets out a soft, almost breathless laugh. "Well, damn." He walks over to the kitchen counter, where his phone is. His gaze falls on the empty space where Kaito had just been. He feels a sudden, intense urge to follow him. To see that flush again. To hear that soft, breathless confession once more. But he holds back. Kaito had asked for space, had retreated to change. He would respect that. He picks up his phone, his thumb hovering over the screen. Bakery. He’d promised pastries and breakfast together. And now, that promise felt less like a casual offer and more like… a date. A very, very early morning, post-workout, shirtless-alpha-and-flustered-mage date. He orders, his fingers flying across the screen, a faint tremor in his hands. 6 berry pastries, 6 savory croissants, two strong coffees. He adds a small, ridiculously expensive box of chocolate-covered strawberries on a whim. He doesn’t know why exactly. He just knows he wants Kaito to have them. Order placed, he looks around the living room. He shakes his head again, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. He heads towards the bathroom and grabs a fresh towel from a nearby basket. A shower. To clean himself up, so Kaito wouldn’t have to smell his stank. But now… now he wonders if Kaito would really mind. Asher steps into the spacious, tiled bathroom. The air is cool, sterile. He strips quickly, tossing his sweat-damp pants into a hamper. He catches his reflection in the large mirror. His body, still glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, looks powerful, carved. He studies the planes of his chest, the tautness of his abdomen, the thick muscles of his arms. He’s always taken pride in his physique, a necessity for an alpha, a reflection of his strength and discipline. But now, he sees it through a different lens. Kaito’s lens. He turns on the shower, letting the water warm. Steam begins to curl, softening the harsh edges of the room. He steps under the spray, letting the hot water sluice over his skin. It feels good, cleansing, but not entirely. The scent of Kaito, faint but persistent, still clings to his mind, interwoven with the memory of his words. He scrubs at his skin, working up a rich lather, the scent of cedar and musk filling the air. He washes his hair, running his fingers through the thick strands, feeling the tension slowly ease from his scalp. But his mind remains active, replaying the scene in the living room. Kaito, pale in the morning light, framed by the doorway. His wide, curious eyes. The way his gaze had lingered, then darted away. The flush that had risen on his cheeks, spreading to his ears. The small, involuntary gasp. And then, the words. Honest. Unflinching. Bold. Asher leans his head against the tiled wall, letting the water drum against his back. He’d always prided himself on his control, his alpha composure. But Kaito seemed to chip away at it effortlessly, leaving him feeling exposed and… strangely exhilarated. He thinks of Kaito’s hands, twisting nervously. The way his voice had softened when he’d confessed to liking sweets. The way his eyes, even in their shyness, had held a direct, unwavering gaze. Asher finishes his shower, feeling cleaner, but the internal hum, the thrum of anticipation, remains. He dries himself vigorously, then wraps a fresh towel around his waist. He pads back into his bedroom, his mind already racing ahead. What would Kaito wear? What would they talk about? Would the tension, the charged atmosphere, still be there? Or would the mundane act of eating breakfast together somehow dissipate it? He hopes not. Asher pulls out a pair of dark, comfortable jeans and a soft, charcoal-grey t-shirt. Yeah maybe Kaito was right about his wardrobe being boring, but Asher felt the most comfortable in dose colors. He dresses quickly, his movements efficient. He glances at his reflection again. He looks… normal. Less like the raw, primal creature Kaito had witnessed, more like the calm, collected alpha he usually presented to the world. But the internal shift, the subtle loosening of his usual guardedness, is undeniable. He runs a hand through his still-damp hair, raking it back from his forehead. He checks his phone. The bakery order should be here soon. He walks back into the living room, a sense of purpose in his stride. He starts settting the table. He moves around the kitchen, pulling out plates, mugs, silverware. He sets them on the small, round dining table near the window. He pours fresh water into the electric kettle and switches it on. The mundane tasks feel imbued with a new significance, a quiet domesticity that is both unfamiliar and surprisingly welcome. The kettle whistles, and Asher pours the hot water into two mugs. He adds some tea bags. He thinks of Kaito’s preference for sweets. He’ll offer honey and milk. A soft sound from the hallway. Asher’s head snaps up, his hand pausing mid-stir. Kaito steps into the living room, dressed in soft, loose-fitting clothes: a long-sleeved, deep blue shirt that makes his eyes seem even more vibrant, and comfortable dark trousers. His hair is still a little damp, falling softly around his face. He looks… fresh. And still, undeniably, beautiful. Their eyes meet across the small distance. There’s a quiet strength in his gaze, a vulnerability that Asher finds himself drawn to. He offers a small smile. "Morning. Again. His voice is soft. "You look… good. The clothes really fits you." The compliment tumbles out before Asher can censor it. Well, he is glad he didn’t just leave them behind when they ran yestrday.

Thank you for sharing ~ 💛

This was so cute, thanks so much for sharing

Sora's back hit the cool wall, a sudden, jarring sensation that snapped him out of the hazy desire. His breath hitched as the world spun, not from dizziness, but from the sudden, intoxicating proximity. He tasted himself on Fang's lips, a metallic tang of desperation and a hint of something feral. His pants pooled around his ankles, a clumsy circle of denim and cotton. He felt a hand, warm and firm, cup his buttock, squeezing, kneading. A low groan rumbled in his chest, escaping before he could capture it. The grinding against his lower half was relentless, a rhythmic pressure that promised more, demanded everything. His hips instinctively bucked, a silent plea for release. He felt the raw heat emanating from Fang, a primal furnace against his own skin. He could barely breathe, his lungs burning, starved for air, yet he didn't want the kiss to end. He clung to Fang's shoulders, knuckles white, as if grounding himself to a storm-tossed ship. Fang tore his mouth away. Sora gasped, a ragged sound, his throat raw. His eyes fluttered open, unfocused, searching for the face that had just consumed him. Before he could fully register the loss, a new assault began. Lips, hot and wet, trailed down his neck. A shiver coursed through him, raising goosebumps on his arms. He felt a soft tug, a gentle nip that left a tingling sensation, a promise of a bruise. His shirt lifted, cool air kissing his skin, quickly replaced by the heat of a mouth, then the sharp, exquisite pain of teeth. He arched his back, a silent invitation, a desperate offering. His nipples hardened, aching for attention. He felt Fang's tongue flick across them, then a gentle suckling, a rhythmic pull that sent jolts of pleasure straight to his core. Then, a sudden shift. Sora felt the weight of Fang drop, his knees hitting the floor. A wave of vulnerability washed over him, exposed and raw. He looked down, his gaze blurring, focusing on the dark head between his legs. A warm, moist tongue slid down his stomach, a slow, deliberate path that left a trail of goosebumps in its way. It paused at his V-line, a delicate area that suddenly felt acutely sensitive. A soft nip, then a gentle suck, a hickey blooming on his skin. He felt a strange mix of pleasure and apprehension, a dizzying cocktail of emotions. He looked into Fang's eyes, golden and intense. They held a predatory gleam, a possessive hunger that made his stomach clench. He watched, mesmerized, as Fang reached for his leg, a strong hand gripping his calf. He felt himself being pulled, his leg lifted, then placed on Fang's shoulder. The position was awkward, unbalanced, but he was too far gone to care. He felt a new kind of exposure, a raw vulnerability that was both terrifying and exhilarating. He swayed slightly, trying to regain his balance, but the wall was no longer a support, but a barrier. Sora's breath hitched, a soft moan escaping his lips. He felt fingers, strong and calloused, wrap around his cock. A jolt, electric and intense, shot through him. He squeezed his eyes shut, his head falling back against the wall. A soft kiss, then a flick of a tongue, a teasing caress that made him gasp. He felt himself harden further, throbbing, aching for more. He opened his eyes, a silent plea in their depths. Fang's gaze was unwavering, a silent challenge. He felt a flush creep up his neck, embarrassment mingling with desire. Fang opened his mouth, and Sora felt the warm, wet engulfment. A gasp tore from his throat, loud and raw. He felt the rhythmic bobbing, the skillful suction, the wet, slick sensation that sent shivers down his spine. His hands, still clinging to Fang's shoulders, began to tremble. His legs, spread wide, felt heavy, his muscles screaming for relief. He felt Fang's hands move, tracing patterns on his legs, gripping, kneading. A soft prickle, then a dull ache, as nails dug into his skin. He felt himself being pushed, his legs forced wider, his balance precarious. He struggled, a soft whine escaping his lips, but there was no escape. He was trapped, utterly and completely, in the throes of pleasure. He felt the rhythmic bobbing intensify, the suction growing stronger, deeper. He was on the verge, teetering on the edge of a precipice, his body screaming for release. His vision swam, a kaleidoscope of colors and sensations. He felt a tremor run through his body. He wanted to beg for release, but the words wouldn't come. He was lost, utterly consumed. Sora's hands tightened on Fang's shoulders, his nails digging into the firm flesh. He felt a low growl rumble in Fang's chest, a primal sound that resonated deep within him. He arched his back, pushing himself deeper into the warm, wet cavern. He felt the friction, the exquisite pressure, building and building. He was a live wire, humming with electricity, on the verge of snapping. He felt a sudden shift, a change in rhythm. The bobbing became faster, more insistent. He was close, so close. He could feel the pressure building in his balls, a throbbing ache that demanded release. He gasped, a guttural sound, his head thrashing against the wall. He felt Fang's tongue swirl around the head of his cock, a dizzying sensation that sent him over the edge.

I recently downloaded Ejaculationism's new rpg on DLsite, I was wondering if there were any existing english translations for the game? I really want to know what's going on LOLL but I'm not super code-savvy so I wasn't too sure if I could go into the files and translate it myself or if there already is an english translation. It says that it's already set to an english translation. It puts me into the original japanese translation instead, and since theres no other option I assume the JP version is the only version. Just wondering if there was any sort of english translation since I do enjoy the game I would just like to understand the context. It is a pretty recently published game so it's completely understandable if there's no eng translation out. Thanks a bunch!!

Cory rubs Cody's arm, "hey it's okay, we are leaving okay?" Akira nods his head, "yeah, hopefully you will never meet that man again." Shuji nods his head slowly, "yeah that would be nice..."

Reup plz