#and I can try and try and try and try and try and try

[maimoonrabbit]

breeee

---˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚---

✨commissions: https://ko-fi.com/rabbit/commissions 🌱 adopts: https://ko-fi.com/rabbit/shop

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Movie Night (Clip of the scene here)

[💙Become a Ko-Fi member for Art raffles and bonus content!]

[thenerdyalchemist]

Sorry Iv been MIA tumblr Iv been learning the ways of Kamome Shirahama this last year

[the-quo-crow]

The Deltarune version of the Undertale characters are extremely frustrating and I find that interesting.

Asgore is such a tone deaf loser it's hard to feel bad for him sometimes. Sans is extremely mean to Kris at the end of Ch4 for no reason (he has to know how inappropriate he's being when the Teenager With Divorced Parents Is Trying To Sleep In The Next Room), Papyrus is absent so he can't be annoying, Undyne is ACAB, and my defenses for Alphys run out in Deltarune bc she's so annoying in it. Only MTT is interesting and he too does not show his face

I think partly it and other new characters just show this "the adults suck and don't care" side of the story that helps with the themes of feeling neglected and running to fantasy and having to solve problems themselves. It's not just the Undertale-mirrors that suck, it's most of the adults.

There's this pervasive anxiety that "No one cares and you will be forgotten". Kris feels neglected. Noelle feels neglected. Susie feels neglected. Ralsei feels neglected. All the secret bosses are neglected.

it's just trying to be realistic/forward the themes but I just have to say that the scene at the end of Ch4 at Kris' felt more wrong than the stuff with the Titans and Gerson's statue/corpse. And with everything we were doing to save Toriel too!

The ugly reality is more unpleasant than Dreamworld horror. No wonder these kids want to run away so bad.

Poor kid

[shencomix]

How to Be The Dominant Male in Any Situation

Let's say you walk into a party.

You are wet and pathetic. Not only are you a worm, but even among worms you are the runt of the litter.

There's a way to fix that. Even you can be the alpha male in every situation you're in. Here's how:

Alpha Male Rule 1: Stand Tall or Very Short

In some things in nature, like rats and giraffes, the biggest creature in is leader.

However, in other things in nature, like the mafia, which has large goons but a small boss, the smallest creature is the leader.

You need to lean into whichever option is closest to you. If you are almost short, try wearing a big suit like a mob boss would wear to also make yourself wider like a mob boss. If are you almost tall, like I am, trying wearing these bad boys:

Now, I know what you're thinking: "High heels?? But isn't that for women???" Women have been hiding them from us men because they are afraid of how powerful we would be with them. But, why do women alone get to augment so much about themselves?? Look at all the eyeliner and mascara they need to even begin to mimic the power and seductiveness of our male eyelashes:

So, let's take a look at how we're doing now having applied just this one piece of advice:

It's a whole new situation. Let's move onto rule 2:

Alpha Male Rule 2: Always Get What You Want But Never Ask For It

I notice the man next to me has cookies. I would like one. Not only that, but there's also a woman next to me, watching. Asking another man for a cookie is extremely un-alpha behavior, so here's how you go about this situation:

1) Point out that someone else has something that you want

2) Cry until they give it to you

If everything has gone according the plan, you now have a cookie, and the woman is thinking something like this:

Let's move onto the last rule.

Alpha Male Rule 3: Always Up the Ante

Whatever you want to do or say, do or say it at least 3 times as hard as a regular person. When your coffee is $3, you should give $9 to show how wealthy you are. When you say "I'll be back in 5 minutes" you should actually be back in 15 minutes -- but really, you should say "I'll be back in 15 minutes" and be back in 45 minutes.

You should also start every task at step 3 rather than step 1. So, a normal (read: beta) guy might tell a girl "I think you're pretty" and then later ask "will you be my girlfriend?' But you should just say this:

99% of women will say yes, but if she needs further convincing, it can be helpful to offer her a small present, like a trinket or snack.

Congratulations. You have now learned how to be the most dominant male in any situation. Here are a few more tips for the road:

Claim to be descended from an ancient king or emperor. You can make a map or your lineage and fold it up to carry it in your pocket, so that you may unfold it whenever it needs to be presented.

If a woman takes a genuine interest in you, do the full body blush animation rising from bottom to top like you're a cup filling up, then run away, leaving behind a small cloud and a few speed lines. The idea that woman can actually like you is a lie perpetuated by Big Women.

If you want to further increase your height, try wearing bunny ears.

[theramblingvoid]

[Source: NPR for all]

ITS FUCKING HAPPENING

[marcusbrutus]

now that the switch 2 is out i just want to remind everyone NOT to pirate games and NOT to mod their consoles. please give the billion dollar company 500 dollars for the console, 80 dollars per game, and 20 dollars for the privilege of playing a game you already own.

absolutely DO NOT mod your 3DS, which is actually very easy to do. do NOT go to this subreddit that keeps an up to date guide on how to mod your 3DS and will provide community support if you need help. if you don't want to risk your own 3DS, absolutely DO NOT go to etsy or ebay where you can find already-modded 3DS's for about $250.00. absolutely DO NOT support these modders and small business owners who restore these consoles and who are trying to make nintendo games as easily acceptable as possible. yes I know it's tempting because this is half the price of the switch 2 (or free if you choose to mod it yourself) and you'll be able to download every single 3DS, DS, GBA, SNES, and NES game ever made as well as DSiware and 3DSware but PLEASE think of nintendo PLEASE support the billion dollar company they just want what's best for you!!!

[cluemily]

From Cleo's stream today (6/6/2025). I'm sure some people would like to hear this this pride month. <3

(Note: I cut some brief moments where Cleo read out some subs/donations, or slightly long pauses. But this is pretty much the entire clip.)

[Transcription:

Cleo: Do you know what I've not talked about for a while? I don't think- I think I got sick literally at the beginning of Pride Month. I think I did. Like, genuinely. So I think I have not pride, I have not said glory to you and your identity at all this month yet! So- like-

[CleoOWO redeem triggers, Cleo laughs]

Cleo [in high-pitched CleOWO voice]: Okay, sure, we can do it like this. I'll put in the hearts as well. [Cleo triggers the blush and hearts on their Vtuber model] Pride! Well, congratulations, I appreciate everybody here. And this is a safe, welcoming community. Doesn't matter if you're gay, or straight, or lesbian, or something else. Or, like, bisexual like me, or pansexual, or asexual, or trans, or I'm- I'm coming up- I'm not doing well with the whole list of things. You are welcome if you're not a bigot! Not for bigots!

So uh trans rights, gay rights- uh, hm- having a think. Uhm- I mean I like you as long as you... rights, woo! We appreciate pride month in all its forms. Hashtag not for bigots. If anybody in this chat has decided that they do not approve of the LGBTQ- alphabet mafia- get out! Uhm- yeah! Yay! [Cleo claps]

[responding to chat member] Aw, you're here strawberry, we're good! You and me, we're good!

[talking to entire chat again] I hope that you have a happy pride month and a happy rest of the year. And I know things- uhm- around the world are a bit tough and problematic and... uhm- we need to lock in. And I know that's hard. But you guys take care of yourselves and each other. Very important, okay? Take care of the community, make sure that if someone's fighting they're not fighting alone.

[CleOWO redeem ends, Cleo talks normally again.]

Yeah, I think that's a thing that I want to say to everyone. Like- the reason why we fight is because we have to. It would be nice not to have to fight but make sure we don't fight alone. Okay? Uhm-

[reading chat message] I'm glad we got to experience this during a CleOWO- Valid.

[reading another chat message] This is simultaneously the most heartwarming and terrifying experience in my life. Uhm, I think I embody that, that's valid.

[Cleo addresses the full chat again] All I'm saying is that there has been some backsliding in the world and you need to make sure that you do not let it go. But, also, people are more accepting now than ever. It is literally a small- like- there are people who are very pro-LGBT. Plus.

Uhm- most of the universe is just sort of like 'what, I don't care. You do you, I support you you do you it's fine'. And then you have the outright bigots. The outright bigot fraction is getting smaller and louder, okay? It is happening, they are smaller and louder than they've ever been. But still take care of yourselves.

[responding to chat] Yeah they're scared. They realise they're in their last throes of bigotry- I think- In most of the world's places. They're trying to make you more scared to be yourself, and I'm saying protect yourselves first. Make sure you are safe and that is the key thing. If you are not safe, I'm sorry just- just stay closeted until you can be safe. Because there's no poiint coming out and somebody hurting you. Get to safety first, okay? And then- and then fight. You can fight after you're safe, okay? And there is a whole community out there rooting for you.

End Transcript]

[joeyclaire]

my friend sami wanted me to share his story with you:

Today, my twin brothers, Hamza and Bilal, and I left home with a small amount of money to buy one kilo of flour that costs $90. While we were on our way, the occupation forces suddenly opened fire on us. My brother Hamza was shot in the leg and started bleeding heavily. Some medics rushed to pull him to safety, while Bilal and I had to lie flat on the ground and crawl toward a sand dune in the desert.

We survived by a miracle—just because we were trying to buy a little food to keep us alive. We didn’t ask for much, just enough to fill our stomachs and give us a chance to survive. But even that became a risk. I’m asking you from the bottom of my heart: stand with us and help us.

My name is Sami, and I want to live. I want to feel safe, even if it’s just for one hour. Please, don’t turn away as if nothing happened. Don’t ignore these words. Your donation could save a life. Even the smallest act of kindness can bring light to someone trapped in darkness.

Imagine yourself in my place—hurt, hungry, and scared—while others could help but choose not to. Please take a minute to think—and then donate. Your support will not be wasted.

[svtskneecaps]

FUCK IT!!!! I MISS WHEN MY MINECRAFT SERVERS HAD CULTURAL EXCHANGE IN THEM!!!! I MISS WHEN MY MINECRAFT SERVERS HAD LANGUAGE BARRIERS IN THEM!!!!! I MISS WHEN WE WERE ALL CRAMMED IN A PIT TOGETHER SCREAMING AND SHAKING AND SOBBING AND CONFUSED AS ALL HELL SITTING IN THE TUMBLR LIVEBLOGS HOLDING HANDS AS WE ALL EXPLAINED WHAT THINGS MEANT, WHAT THE REAL WORLD CULTURAL CONTEXT WAS, WHAT WAS GOING ON IN BITS THE TRANSLATOR COULDN'T GET!!!!! FUCK IT!!!!!!! I'LL TAKE ANOTHER GODDAMN PURGATORY!!!!! GIVE ME A BUNCH OF PEOPLE FORMING SIX PERSON FAMILIES OVER THE SPAN OF THREE TO FIVE DAYS!!!!!!!! GIVE ME THE EVIL SHADOW GOVERNMENT THAT NEVER MADE ANY GODDAMN SENSE, GIVE ME THE STUPID FUCKING EYE WORKERS THAT WERE AGGRAVATINGLY UNBEATABLE, GIVE ME THE CONFUSING ASS BLACK CONCRETE STRUCTURES THAT WENT BASICALLY FUCKING NOWHERE!!!!!! I'LL TAKE IT ALL IF IT MEANS I GET A FRENCH MAN AND A GUY FROM LUXEMBOURG AND A WOMAN FROM SOUTH KOREA SHOOTING THE SHIT IN A MINECRAFT PIT STARTER HOUSE AGAIN!!!!!!!!!! I'LL TAKE IT IF I GET BRAZILIAN PORTUGUESE AND FRENCH AND ENGLISH AND SPANISH SITTING AT A FUCKING TABLE IN A SECRET UNDERGROUND MEETING ROOM THEORIZING ABOUT A MINECRAFT CHARACTER WITH AN APPEARANCE BASED ON A JOKE ABOUT A GUY'S DOG BEING AN AMERICAN CONSERVATIVE!!!!!!! GIVE IT BACK!!!!!!!!! GIVE IT BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!

[brookshusband]

do any other Selfshippers get really anxious that they aren't making enough content but also at the same time too frightened to post because what if I post too much and annoy my mutuals or they hate the things I make?

[screampied]

r/AmITheAsshole •

by u/BigdickBigheartKamo_

WIBTA if I *accidentally* hid my human roommate’s vibrator only to try it on myself? Help! (╥﹏╥)

r/wc. 6.8k

r/warnings. fem! reader, modern au, loserboy choso, he’s kinda pervy here, crack fic, protected -> unprotected, cóndom breaks, vírgin! choso, size kinks, multiple rounds, he fucks you while wearing your hoodie, óral, panty stuffing, bulges, cervíx mentions, switch choso sorta, toy usage, manhandling, use of ‘mommy’, & ‘good boy’, brèeding, body worship, petnames

r/an. he’s trying

TLDR: “… basically, i, (150 M) hid my human roommate’s vibrator just so I could try it out for myself. yeah, i’m actually 150, and no, this isn’t clickbait. please don’t downvote me :(”

“…of course, i properly cleaned it and everything before using it - but, she uses this glittery thing all the time. not the mention the fact that it’s so…big. and another thing, it glows in the dark. this squishy thing can’t be the reason why i can barely sleep sometimes, can it? i swear, i can sometimes hear her loud, belting moans in my dreams. sounds painful. i’m kind of too shy to confront her about it, what if she kicks me out? she’s so nice and pretty - oh, i’m getting off-topic, sorry.

but it was this one particular night that happened, i was in our apartment alone and i hid her toy. she only noticed it was gone after about say, maybe three days. she asked me had i had seen and i just shrugged. in reality though, i tried the thing out for myself and experienced the best organism orgasm of my life!

the down side though, was that she caught me red-handed on her bed … ”

“is that my fucking vibrator?”

“n…no…?”

this looked pretty … bad.

choso had the most wide-eyed look while his legs were spread, wearing nothing but a hoodie - your hoodie.

you blinked twice, barely able to get a word out as you’re presented with your century-old roommate literally rubbing one out on your bed. from cheek to cheek, he was flustered as his right hand froze. it gripped the top part of your toy which was a bright hot pink.

“no?” you deadpanned at his blatant lie, flipping on the light switch. choso’s eyes squinted from the light and oh, the mess that displayed on his stomach. half of your sage-colored university hoodie was pulled up, showcasing his abs that had a bit of his mess painting against his pecs. “you told me you didn’t see it.”

“i didn’t!” he huffs, knowing how this looked.

there was a tiny pout that creased across his thin-lined lips as he tried to momentarily think of an excuse.

“but uh-” and as you watched him flip the power button off the toy with a faint ‘flick’, choso sighed at his ruined release. “you left it out one night on your bed and i got … curious.”

rolling your eyes, you snatched the pink wand with each finger wrapping around the rubbery handle. “so, you just decide to be a perv and use it on yourself?” and choso sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. he stayed quiet, and all you could hear was his heavy, breathy pants.

oh.

curiosity got the best of you though because that’s when you realized - choso was half-naked.

his boxers were pulled down to his ankles with his cock already pulled out. it stood tall with just the riiiight amount of thick girth. near the very maroon-shaded tip, he was leaking a bit of pre-cum that dripped down all sides. the muscles in his tightened abs tensed after each shallow breath he took while he remained manspread.

“and of course, you’re wearing my hoodie,” you muttered, but your tone sounded . . . different. you didn’t sound pissed, you were a bit intrigued.

choso glanced at you, letting off a dramatic gulp as his naturally hooded eyes cutely roamed down your body.

was he getting off to… you?

the risqué thought suddenly plagued at the back of your mind and you let off a giggle. perplexed, his dark brows wriggled before he saw you scooting closer.

“oh my god, you’re such a slut.”

“no, i told you, i was curious,” he corrects you. “but i’m sorry! look, i’ll even buy you a new one,” choso timidly grins. “heh, fun fact though, did you know that um, orgasms can shut down a single part of your brain? the more you kn-”

as you kept yourself from rolling your eyes a second time, you sighed. “choso, if you wanted to get laid, you could’ve just straight up asked.”

“what? what… what makes you think that?” he clears his throat, nearly choking on the lump hiding in his throat.

choso’s burning, red face was a true dead giveaway of how he truly felt though. the longer you stared at him, the more he felt himself growing harder.

in fact, he’s so hard - it’s practically painful.

choso couldn’t help but wrap a big, veiny hand around his shaft just to give it a few comforting pumps. a shaky, shallow sigh departs from his lips as his thumb zigzags its way down the side of his cock. “f… fine,” he digs the top part of his teeth into his bottom lip, dragging out the lone syllable. “i just didn’t wanna freak you out. besides, i’ve never um… did the laid before.”

right as he mentioned ‘laid’ - choso wriggled his brows to emphasize and it was so unintentionally cute.

“ ‘did the laid?’ ” you repeat back with a snort, forgetting your half-curse half-human of a roommate didn’t exactly have much physical contact with women. he never really spoke much about himself.

choso got more embarrassed at your teasing, and you rubbed your glossed lips together before glimpsing back down at the powered-off vibrator. “the real thing feels a lot better than this thing, anyway.”

“really?” he mumbled, maintaining eye contact with you. from each part of choso’s head, he was sweating profusely. in a way, it was pretty.

his hair wasn’t in its usual two ponytails this time. it was sweated out, matted, and unkempt while having a few black strands messily strung down his face. the teardrops of sweat that streamed down his face decorated his skin perfectly. “is that why you’re screaming every night? because of this thing?”

. . . .

as you plopped down on the bed, you took another glance at him. choso lazily laid back with his legs spread. such a position alone made you gnaw on the bottom of your lip, and him dragging a hand through his hair didn’t make things much better.

“show me.” you purred, your interest fully piqued now.

“show you…?” choso blinked, feeling a sudden shiver once cool air set against his bare skin.

you grabbed your switched-off vibrator, wrapping a hand around it before handing it back to him. “show me how you played with yourself with my toy, silly.”

“oh-” choso nervously grinned, a barred thumb gently brushing over the back of your palm. as he raised both brows, he gave you a timid look. “just don’t laugh.”

“promise.” you muttered, averting your gaze toward his hardened cock.

he was big.

far bigger than you imagined, actually.

choso’s tip was more of the bulbous type with a strawberry-red tint painting near its top. he slipped out a hoarse grunt once he brought a hand toward his shaft, slithering all five stubby fingers ‘round his length. two veins prod near the thick sides before he switched the vibrator back on with his thumb. with a loud ‘flick’, it lights up, signaling that it’s on, and the buzzing starts.

“i just… um,” he swallowed thickly, his voice trembling the longer you stared at him. anxiously, his dick twitched once your stare went from his lap to his face. “earlier i uh- i rubbed the tip against mine like… t- this.” he gulped, and you watched as he gradually guides the pink toy toward the leaking crown of his cock.

choso exhales deeply, letting off unsteady deep sighs once the vibrating tip slooowly rubs its way against his tender head. immediately, it's coated with a bit of his pre-cum and he could feel the muscles in his thighs tense instantly. “fuck..” he bites down on his chiseled jaw, avoiding your lust-filled gaze.

oh, he knew he was screwed.

he didn’t know whether he wanted to feel embarrassed, turned on, or both.

choso’s burning up in your hoodie. the fleecy, soft material felt like it was clawing at his ripped biceps from the inside.

he’s covered in your signature scent entirely, and despite how you’re a hair’s breadth away from him, he’s even daydreaming about you too. in one hand, choso’s giving his veiny cock solid, two-second pumps while the other was using the toy to swirl tender circles around his aching tip.

the entire scene was so lewd, you didn’t know what to say. your body did though, and its initial reaction was to squeeze your thighs shut. the repetitive buzzing of your toy only got louder, and pretty soon - it was repeatedly ringing through choso’s sensitive ears plus yours.

“i couldn’t-” he whined, slouching back against your fluffed pillow. red-ridden lips of his tightly pressed together as he pouts before his thighs nearly collapse. “i couldn’t really get far last time. i didn’t know how to finish and i thought straight up asking you would be um… well, rude.”

you giggled. “do you want me to help you finish?”

million dollar question.

choso’s heart felt like it was about to beat straight out of his chest. you couldn’t see it, but he already had hearty eyes. with his dilated, darkened pupils merely forming into cute shapes he was already so down bad.

“mhm-” he nodded eagerly, his slick lips trembling the more you scooted yourself closer toward him. the room around you both felt substantially hot, and the walls continuously felt like they were closing in after each dreadful second that passed.

choso’s staring at you with a look of not want but need, and that cute ‘lil pout that creases across his lips never faded away. “please,” he adds, and with his husky, trembling voice, you heard his voice slightly crack.

“please?” you took the toy, turning it off with a flip of a button. “please what, ‘cho?”

you heard the ‘power off’ sound, indicating that it’s off again before placing your hand on top of choso’s. you could tell he wasn’t fond of your teasing because of the way his eyebrows parted together in frustration. even his scowls were cute, not intimidating in the slightest.

“please,” he swallowed, tugging on the string of your light green hoodie that swallowed his frame. “make- help me finish, princess. i just-” he paused, his words sounding more whiny once his quivering bottom lip got caught in between his teeth. “wanna fuckin’ finish so bad.”

and as he’s quietly rambling out pleas, choso already looked like he was about to break any second.

dark almond-shaped, eyes followed your every move, studying the direct placement of your wandering hand that trailed up his bulky thighs. he felt so hot, and your touch to his skin felt like electricity. just one finger trailing up his thigh was enough energy to create a spark.

“okay,” you said, and you could hear him sighing a quick sigh of relief. choso leans back, taking a few more seconds to swallow before he starts to pant.

you still couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that your roommate was getting off to you, on your bed, while wearing your hoodie.

honestly, you couldn’t even lie - it was starting to make you grow a bit of a big head, and choso gulped once he saw your head lowering down. “did you steal any more of my toys, choso?”

“no, swear,” he quickly denied, shaking his head. choso’s dick in front of you stood tall as pulse after pulse shooting from his veiny sides within each nanosecond. silently, he watched as your dominant hand gingerly wrapped its way around his length before giving it a few greeting pumps. with choso’s fat size and additional girth, he could barely even fit in your palm. “o- oh, fuck keep touching me p- pleaaase.”

within seconds, choso was already melted putty in your hands. you had him so sensitive, and his brain felt like it just turned into straight mush. he’s feeling the thick air inside the small apartment the two of you shared suffocate him all at once. “mngh-” he groans, taking a quick peek once he feels something abnormally hot.

it’s your tongue, and you took a quick second to softly drag it across his leaking pink tip.

the head of his cock was swollen and large with the perfect plump shape. instantly, your lukewarm tastebuds were met with a bitterly sweet taste of his pre-cum and you let off a moan of your own. without thinking, the same hand from before softly went around his narrow base before you pursed your lips.

“ngh, y- you’re sooo gooood, princess,” and choso’s already pathetically dragging his words.

the way you filthily zigzagged and dipped your tongue over ‘n around his sensitive tip scratched every single itch in his brain. his long, black lashes forcibly flutter shut once he hears the faint ‘pop’ of your slick, wet lips. “like that, just like hah- that.”

choso’s curve itself was attractive too. his heavy cock would sometimes slant a bit on its own, having it's own lean - showing just how big he really is.

you didn’t even realize how much you were starting to shamelessly salivate from the sides of your mouth. once you began to shower each side of his throbbing shaft with kisses, you glanced up at him. “do you want me to st-”

“no, ple-ase,” and cutely, enough, choso’s voice cracks again. both of his ears twitched in embarrassment before he deeply sighed, clearing his throat. “i- i mean,” choso put a hand on the top of your head. “please, please keep going, princess. make me f- feel good. teach me.”

“and you’re not gonna steal my stuff behind my back again, are you?” you muttered, pausing your hand on his dick mid-stroke.

“never-ever,” he nodded impatiently, his deep voice trembling after each quavering syllable.

all choso wanted to feel was your warm, hot mouth taking in every inch. he was inexperienced and maybe a bit old-fashioned but he knew a thing or two about twitter.

twitter and reddit.

why you were roommates with a whole century-old half curse half human was another story within itself. choso pays half the rent every month and even occasionally helps with some of your college work. but sometimes though, while you’re out doing whatever - he gets bored.

choso oftentimes finds himself searching up random things on google while missing your absence. as you’re swiping a thumb over his flushed tip, you run your melting, wet tongue over the head one more time before opening your mouth. imitating the shape of an ‘o’ with your lips, choso whimpered once he felt the soft heaving breaths escape from the back of your eager throat. his cock gradually makes its way inside as you’re batting both lashes.

chocolaty, gentle eyes intently staring at you as he bit back sultry moan after moan that’s threatening to leave his lips. “god-” he grunts sweetly, giving the white-striped string of your hoodie a solid tug.

inch after inch leisurely disappears inside of your mouth and choso’s losing it.

one of his hands absentmindedly slithers its way under your head before he slings four fingers around your neck. the pad of his thumb was caressing the nape of your neck whilst he watched you starting to sink further down. “m- mhm, take all of it, princess. use that pretty throat ‘n take all of me, f- fuck.”

choso’s natural deep voice alone was enough to make you throb. after a few dragging seconds, you managed to fit him halfway down your throat. his tip tenderly smashes its way against your uvula and you moan. glossy saliva ran from both sides of your mouth as your head started to bob.

“oh, you’re already makin’ such a mess,” he breathily mutters, using another hand to awkwardly pat your head.

choso’s never felt anything like this, and all of his senses felt heightened. as his lips continued to quiver from the overwhelming stimulation, choso delicately rubbed his thumb over the spit that streamed down the corners of your lips. “i … i love your voice but you sound a lot prettier when your throat’s hah- stuffed.”

you gave choso a deadpan as you continued to sloppily take him in your mouth, using your hand to twist around his veiny cock.

“what? it’s true,” choso sheepishly grins, but his smile quickly fades once his left thigh started to twitch. his entire body falls limp against the cushioned pillows behind him before he gasps. “oh, shit-” he groans lowly, absently thrusting his hips into your mouth.

as both of your hands grabbed onto each side of his hips, you loudly moaned. it was muffled but still sounded so pretty. choso’s thick, slightly curved cock tap tap tapped it’s way against the back of your throat each time. flawlessly, it tickled down the roof of your mouth after a single vigorous stroke that made your whole body shake.

choso’s (your) hoodie that was still on him was a bit pulled up now, and above his sharpened, hairy waistline - you saw just how ripped he was.

come to think of it, out of the seven months you’ve been living with him, you don’t think you’ve ever seen your roommate shirtless.

“princess, i think ‘m gonna-” he pauses, his eyes widening before pulling his aching dick from your lips.

as you pout, choso looks at you with a timid expression. “is it- can i?” and he’s fumbling on how exactly to ask you. “i … i didn’t ask to use your toy before so i feel like it’s only appropriate if it’s okay to uh- finish in your mouth. sorry.”

“ ‘cho, it’s fine,” you held back a giggle, giving his rosy-pink tip a soft kiss. it convulses upon impact, and choso’s eyes roll back ‘till they show nothing but milky white.

he’s feeling it come all at once - literally, and he’s groaning the minute your plump lips wrap around his cock for its final time. “go ‘head.”

choso didn’t know what it was, but your voice sounded as smooth as honey. he could feel his cock stiffening inside of your clogged-up throat with multiple veins pricking at the sides of his length.

his brain feels oh-so clouded, and that’s when choso’s jaw tightens.

once you give him yet another teasing flick of your tongue over his sensitive slit, that’s when he finally explodes.

choso whimpers once he starts to spurt rope after rope, painting the roof of your mouth including your pretty pink tongue. “ ‘m sorry,” he shuts his eyes, starting to babble with both barred hands delicately gripping the crown of your head. “hah- ruined your mouth ‘n make such a mess, princess,” and as he’s spewing sweet nonsense, choso finally meets eye contact with you again. “fuck- you took it all though.”

your cheeks were both filled, and you hummed at the taste that was stored inside your mouth. while staring at choso, you swallowed - although there was still a bit of remnants left on the corners of your lips.

before you could even attempt to lick it away though, choso does it for you.

almost immediately, he sits up to softly press his body weight against you. choso’s lips crash against you hungrily, and needy muffled whimpers slide their way inside your mouth. you smiled against his lips as you threw your arms around his neck.

choso didn’t really know how to kiss either - he was mostly following your lead.

with one of your hands hanging behind his neck, you lead it up toward his hair before feeling a few matted black tresses tangle between your fingers. briefly, your foreheads touched against each other and you felt the sticky sweat that stuck against his tepid skin.

“mhm-” you moaned, feeling choso’s impatient hands claw at your thighs. his tongue’s swiftly making sure to lap up any remnants of his own cum, not caring in the slightest about his bittersweet taste.

it was broad daylight out, probably about a few minutes ‘till four in the afternoon. as you made your way onto choso’s bare lap, his dick painfully rubbed itself against your denim shorts.

every few seconds, you’d take a peek at choso to see the golden tints of sun that would illuminate certain parts of his face.

“m- mommy,” he whispers against your lips as his roughly-textured fingers ardently tug at the lower fabric of your shorts. choso’s eyes instantly flutter open before a dark red shade color over his face. “i mean-”

“baby, you were right the first time.” you cooed, and oh, choso thinks he just got another boner.

fuck.

in sheer embarrassment, the bridge of choso’s nose cutely scrunched up before he leaned in again.

you think he’s going in for another kiss but instead - he’s making a beeline straight for the the frilly tank top you wore.

two rough hands gently pull up the fabric, and he stuffs his face in between your tits. “s- sorry, princess, mhm,” and you glance down, watching him use your chest as a pillow. you smiled, patting his head. choso’s probably dreamt about this at least about a million times.

poor guy.

“i… i need a minute, fuck,” he muffled between your tits, pressing tender kisses down the valley of your chest. you let off sweet gasps after each peck, and you’re just hearing wet smooch after smooch. choso felt like he was literally in heaven. by now, he’s a sweat-drenched mess. dark, thirsty eyes glance up at you as if he’s asking to touch you more and you gave him a wordless nod. “you’re so perfect, ‘s unfair.” he murmurs, cupping two big hands around your tits.

choso rolled his tongue out of his mouth, gently running the tip across each sensitive nipple of yours. you moaned, feeling your back arch before your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. “c- choso,” you whined, dragging a hand down his already ruffled hair. with his eyes closed, choso kept tending to each breast lovingly.

with his tongue, he’s trying to mimic each video he stumbled upon online that he did for ‘research purposes.’

choso sucked intently on each tit, departing from each one with loud ‘pop’ sounds that forevermore ringed through your ears. coral, pink lips of his compress together before he sits back up to create a wet trail of kisses down your jaw. abruptly though, choso grunts against your slickly glossed lips before laying on your chest. “no good, i’m still so hard.”

“what are you waiting for then?” you sweetly purred, tossing your arms around his broad neck once more.

with wide, mousy eyes - choso sheepishly smiles. “oh, right, right…” and as you pulled the covers up over choso’s back with you underneath, he’s ‘attempting’ to align himself. of course, choso doesn’t know what the actual fuck what he’s doing.

he’s done a lot of ‘research’ about intimacy but he never expected it to be this intimate.

“oh-,” he pauses, his bare tip resting against your already dripping cunt. choso reaches near his nightstand before pulling out a rubber. “i read somewhere that i should wear this unless i wanna get pregnant.”

as you absentmindedly strummed a thumb down the stood-up hairs that decorated the back of his pale neck, you giggled. “don’t you mean me, choso? unless i get pregnant?”

“oh..” he cringes, scratching his head in embarrassment.

after a few seconds - with a faint-sounding snag, choso successfully put the rubber on. it was a tight fit, but it fit. just barely.

choso was slightly shy, and you could tell by his hesitant arms trying to find the right placement. you looked at him, rubbing the back of your heel down his back in an attempt to soothe him. “relax,” you coo, helping him align his aching tip. he was already moaning the second it slipperily slides its way down your slit that’s so desperate for him to just go inside already. “you weren’t this shy when i saw you using my toy earlier.”

“tch, shut up,” choso smacks his lips, and you let off a soft gasp once he lifts your legs. he firmly pushes them back ‘till they reach just above your exposed chest. “ ‘m gonna show you how shy i really am, princess.”

“yeah? go ‘head, baby.”

☆ ☆ ☆

and fuck, he does.

calling choso a quick learner was the understatement of the year.

one minute he was shy and the next, he was strenuously plowing through you as if his occupation was a construction worker. choso’s animalistic stamina caught you off guard entirely. each stinging slap of soft flesh hitting against each other makes you moan. he’s buried deep, grunting each time his rubbery tip rams itself against your g-spot with no mercy.

choso stretched you out so well while easily locating each tender erogenous zone until you short-circuited.

“f- fuck, choso- fuck,” you whimpered, clawing your nails down his back. the entire time he’s inside, he’s still wearing your hoodie. you might as well let him keep it anyway.

he’s just a straight-up untamed animal, growing feral after each rigor thrust. the bed beneath you both grunts out creaks of despair with the headboard sounding like it’s on its final rusty hinges. choso’s heavily panting, pushing your knees up further to your chest mid-thrust. “yeah, yeaaah, there ‘cho- hit there, ugh-”

“here?” he hoarsely utters, bringing his spit-glossed lips toward the caps of your knees. choso maintains intimate eye contact before with a single deep stroke, he introduces his tip to your g-spot for another nth time.

you nodded, choking on your little mewls before choso mocked your pout. “mhm, all i had to do was hit this spot for you to stop teasing me, princess?”

and he hits it again, and again, and again -

constantly.

choso’s cock was basically bullying your cunt by this point, and you moaned after each direct hit. he’s precise and accurate, using your clit as a target while striking a perfect bullseye with his reddened crowned tip. you held onto him tight as the bed rocked and swayed roughly, both sticky bodies melting together into one.

“ ‘m getting close,” you whined, your pathetic sweet cries against his ear making him even harder.

choso dragged calloused hands down your body as his dick drove through your sobbing pussy repeatedly. all ‘round his length, you’re squeezing him tight and convulsing continuously. choso groans into your neck and his pace slows a bit for a few seconds. “c- choso.”

“shh,” he whispers, and you watch him reach beside you. choso flicks your denim shorts aside, picking up your panties before bawling them up in his hand. “you’re so loud, princess. forgive me for bein’ rude, but i don’t wanna hear you right now,” and despite how his voice was so silkily smooth and gruff, that’s when he softly stuffs your panties in your mouth. after that, his hips give you one big thrust and it causes your poor pussy to squelch out pretty ‘lil sobs of its own. “wanna hear her.”

and choso wasn’t even looking at you anymore.

his attention’s solely on your wet cunt, and he’s silently in awe at how you’re taking every hefty inch like a good girl. you’re so wet too, and each thrust was making his head spin.

but right as he starts up his rocky pace - he hears a certain tearing snaaaap.

your eyes flutter open as your chest heaves, and choso blinks twice. his thighs relaxed before he looked at the sudden ‘rupture.’

the condom actually broke, and his bulbous tip was fully poking out of the rubbery top part of the hole. choso grunted, not even realizing how close he was because he could feel how full he was already. “oops,” he pouts, abruptly pulling out. despite how your own panties were still stuffed in your mouth, you scrunched up your brows as if you were saying - ‘what happened?’

“it broke,” choso frowns, and you could hear him ripping the tattered condom off his erect length. he looks back at you, pressing a kiss on your cheek. “do i just get a new one?”

instantly, you shook your head. the panties ended up falling out of your mouth and you took a millisecond to breathe. “no, you can- hah, you can go in raw.”

“raw,” choso repeated, and you moaned once he gently pressed a palm on the center of your bare tummy. “are… are you sure, princess?”

“i’m sure.” you panted, already feeling your mouth water at the sheer filthy imagery of choso dumping you with his load.

choso leaned in, closing the suffocating gap between you both with a kiss and you moaned. he tasted so sweet, and yet again, you’re immediately met with his cherry-mint flavor as both lips violently smashed into each other.

while he’s still trying to follow your lead with his lips, choso removed the condom before tossing it in the trash bin. cool air sets against his tip and lets off the sweetest-sounding moan ever into your mouth.

he’s carnal - swaying his hips against yours impatiently while trying to align his feverishly-hot tip. “you’re gonna make me cum just by staring at you,” he huffs quietly, delicately smacking the fat head of his cock against your puffy slit.

you whimpered, feeling all ten of your toes curl before he presses himself against your held-up knees. “pretty, messy girl.” choso grunted, using two fingers to dip inside of your pussy. you were about to whine again, but that’s when choso stuffed your panties back in your mouth.

with a loud ‘pop’ - choso pulls his now sticky-covered fingers out of your cunt before guiding them toward his lips. as his bare tip’s slowly making its way inside of you again, he sucks on his fingers in front of you. “mhm,” choso closed his eyes for a moment, taking in your sweetened arousal. “never knew my roommate could taste so g- oh, fuck.”

choso gets caught off guard by the unexpected feeling of him rawly cumming. a breath gets caught in his throat before he slumps against you, filling you rope after rope with oozing hot cum. it’s unlike any feeling he’s ever felt before, and he’s speechless.

you let off faint, muffled moans in the background as your tongue and teeth snagged against the lacy fabric of your panties. choso’s aching limbs felt like they were about to fall off. his head buried inside of your neck before he started to whine.

no matter how dominant he tried to be, the clingy sticky grip of your pussy would always put him in check.

“ugh-” he gruffly grunts against your bare collarbone, delicately pressing down a bit more on your stomach.

while he’s still pouring out such a thick, ribbony load of cum, choso ends up brushing his fingertips against his bulge that even makes a faint noticeable print against your tummy. he thought it was cute, and he even groans out a sweet, “fuck.”

hungry, dark-bronze eyes flicker down at your stuffed cunt that’s just dripping from all sides and he sighs. “it’s spilling,” choso pouts and your eyes widened once he suddenly lifted you, propping you right back up on his cock. “can’t- can’t let it go to waste, princess,” he breathes airily, helping you sprawl your already shaky legs. your arms wrapped around choso’s shoulders before with one hand, he gives your ass a soft squeeze before whispering in your ear. “ ‘m not done filling you in yet. s- sorry.”

☆ ☆ ☆

one hour turned into two, then three, then four.

choso had the stamina of a stallion, and it didn’t take long at all for him to be utterly addicted to your sweet, sweet pussy. continuously, he’s effortlessly ripping out shrilling orgasm after orgasm ‘till your chords went raspy.

he’s got you riding him now, and oh he might just think he’s in love.

it was just something about you moving your hips so perfectly.

both scarred palms of his securely gripped your rotating ass, gently squeezing at the loud plopping skin that stung against his lap every second. “jus’ like that, pleaseplease,” he groans, glancing up at you with half-open eyes. the stretch of choso’s cock always left both of your pried open legs shaking with your jaw slightly left ajar. he’s just ridiculously big, jackhammering all nth-inches of his cock deep into your dripping cunt. “god, your hips are gonna kill me-”

“fuck-” you breathed, peeking around a bit to see your ass ruthlessly slamming back down on his time and time again. in a lewd, dirty way - it was almost pretty. the way your hips rolled into him, the sparkly tear of sweat that tore down your bare spine, how your tits just mindlessly bounced in choso’s face.

he felt like he was heaven.

deadly sharp echoing slaps of skin fiercely ricochet against each other as you kept up a decent pace, burying your face into his left shoulder. choso’s stammering out cute inaudible babbles while you continued, taking the opportunity to help you drag your hips faster.

you made sure to dig your knees into his thighs, twisting and turning your ass while pulling yourself forward. your hips alone had choso hypnotized, and if you squinted enough you could make out the cartoonish rings swirling in his irises.

“mhm, fuck me mommy-” he slips it out again, but at this point, he doesn’t even care. as your body’s languidly swayed into him, you moaned once his crowned tip surprised your cervix with a multitude of sloppy kisses. one tap turned into three taps within seconds, and now you felt like you were really short-circuiting.

choso’s whining near your right ear before he gasps out a sweet, “ohh, fuck i- if you keep riding me like that, you’re gonna get me… pregnant.”

you held back a giggle, wondering how he forgot already that he couldn’t actually get pregnant.

choso’s head was just so clouded that he couldn’t think straight at all - not when your pussy was snatching him out of reality.

“yeah?” you cooed, bringing a soft kiss toward the side of his mouth.

choso’s pink lips tremor instantly and you watched as his mouth instantly opened for you. just then though, that’s when you got an idea.

you could tell choso was already getting close again judging by his erratic spasming beneath your body, and you then abruptly stopped your hips.

“wha- why’d you stop?” he frowns, not even realizing how much he was sweating.

your hoodie that he was wearing was practically drenched with sweat, and there were so many jet-black strands of hair gluing to his forehead.

choso pants, staring at you as you reach near the edge of the bed for your pink vibrator from earlier.

a hand of yours swiftly wrapped around the wand, and with a single thumb, you switched it on. right away, it lights up - singing out loud buzzes before you look at him with a playful expression. “may i?”

“heh, you’re a kinky girl huh,” choso slouched back against his pillow. he took a second to admire how pretty you looked over him - just nude with your sweat-dripping skin glistening from the rays that shined from your cracked open window pane. “okay, yeah. whatever you w- oh, my god.”

as you re-aligned yourself on choso’s cock, you guided the vibrating tip of your toy over his pearly-coated tip. as he was just barely a few inches in, you were gently rubbing the vibrator over choso’s cockhead and he instantly knew he wasn’t gonna last much longer.

“p- princessss,” he hisses sweetly, tightly holding onto your hips. choso clenched down on his jaw until it wholly tightened, and he’s feeling every single vibration from the toy. as the both of you moaned in sync, you never did really realize how pretty your roommate looked with his eyes rolling fully back, his mouth just idly dangling open. “fuck, fuck, ‘m gonna cum, ugh-”

“look at me,” you whisper, greeting his quivering lips with three kisses. a glossy trail of saliva departs each time. beady, docile eyes meet yours after about four delayed seconds and you whimpered, hearing the sharp whack of choso’s palm meeting against your ass. “are you gonna use my toys again, ‘cho?”

choso whines as you slowly kept rubbing the vibrating tip of the toy over his tender cockhead, and he’s feeling every compressed his lips. “p- probably,” and he quickly backtracks, sheepishly letting off a dry laugh. “i mean no. i’ll ask first, promise- ugh.”

you smiled, using another hand to stroke his veiny length that was still so rock hard. his entire body was trembling beneath you, and choso’s louder than you now. “are you gonna be a good boy ‘n cum for me now?”

“mmm-hmm, fuck,” choso groans, and the sudden pitch of his husky tone makes you throb. he tosses his head back, eyeing the wooden rotating ceiling fan before licking his lips. “princess ‘m cumming-”

your vibrator was only on level one out of the four other levels - and yet, choso cums hard.

it's way more than his other releases, and it comes out in creamy thick ropes. you raise your hips while looking down, hearing choso break apart in front of you. his tip’s the hottest shade of red you’ve ever seen, and the way he just continued to erupt made you twitch more. a bit of his cum shoots near your drooling cunt and your inner thighs - but especially on the head of your vibrator.

“wait,” he exhales timidly, pulling his black brows apart as his eyes remain closed. choso’s trying to catch his breath while still feeling so euphoric all over. “f- fuck, look at how messy she is.” choso breathes, gradually pulling out once he finishes.

satiny, white ribbons of cum decorated the front of your pussy with a bit of his mess salaciously spilling out of you. he didn’t just stuff you, he double-stuffed you.

you moaned as he stared, getting in between your legs for a moment. you felt choso’s warm breath aerate against the opening of your dripping clit before he spreads your thighs. “so pretty,” he murmurs, bringing the print of his thumb to glide it straight down the glistening valley of your pussy. “hah- want a little taste.”

and within a blink of an eye, choso’s tongue laps itself at the sticky mess that was glued between your legs. “s- shit,” you heaved a deep breath, clawing a shaky hand in his hair. again, choso didn’t care at all about tasting his aftermath. it tasted even sweeter because of you, in his mind. he’s like a starved animal, flicking his tongue inside before it turns to a sloppy vacuuming suck. “yesyes, choso hngh-”

choso makes out with your clit - literally. he’s slightly shaking his head from side to side, relishing in the bittersweet taste of you.

you felt his lips cup ‘round your pussy before he gives it a greedy seven-second suck. “mhm,” he groans, reaching an arm down to stroke his cock. your moans alone ended up getting him off, and choso felt his dick twitch in his palm once he felt you softly push him further in between your legs. “i’m gonna clean you all up princess, p- promise.”

not even minutes later, the entire lower portion of choso’s chin was completely shimmery. even the tip of his button nose was a bit wet.

he sat up from between your legs, taking a few deep breaths before licking his lips. “thank you.” he lowly murmured, giving your pussy a soft pat. he felt you throb on his palm and it made him grin.

“good boy,” you spoke in tiny airy breaths, heavily panting yourself. almost forgetting, you turned off the toy that was still in your hand, tossing it aside before getting back on choso’s bare lap.

choso wraps his burly arms around you, hugging you while one hand crept toward your ass. his lips met the inside of your neck before he pulled you into his chest. “we should-” he breathed, finally opening his eyes to get a good look at you.

oh, he was whipped.

“we should do the laid more often.”

“we’ll see.” you stroke his right cheek, bringing a chaste kiss to his lips. choso makes you fall on top of him before the both of you are lying in bed next to each other.

perhaps choso was a bit too whipped though, because he lays on top of you, kissing your forehead before blurting out a husky short-winded, “i love you, yuki.”

smiling, you stared into his eyes before that same smile quickly faded. “i love you too ch- wait who?”

“……………..”

u/BigdickBigheartKamo_ ✓ • 2min. ago

So, we aren’t roommates anymore but at least I still have her hoodie I guess :( but help. (◞‸◟；) the real question is though,

[moonsun2010]

Continuing on what seems to be a yearly tradition of redrawing my 5 June Dracula Daily art! Thought I'd make it animated this time—DD2024's is linked here for comparison

[nezuscribe]

gojo knew there was a woman under that helmet.

he knew that those movements were too fluid, to precise, to calculated to be at the hands of a man. he had seen men fight, and they did not fight like you.

it was unheard of, forbidden even, for a girl to be a part of the seven holy knights. the sacred and esteemed title was usually bestowed upon the sons who came from noble families. in other words, families who could afford to have their boys trained from birth.

as second in line to take the throne gojo didn't care much for tradition and values. his brother was going to be king in a few years. why should he bother with the weighty and unnecessary rules that he's tied to?

so he spends the rest of his time, time delegated for learning calligraphy or studying neighboring relations, with his holy knights. and half that time he spends studying you.

the knights never take off their helmets; it's part of the secrecy and significance that they hold. but gojo has been holding a sword longer than he's been holding a pen, has strummed more bows than strummed instruments. he knows this, or at least, he used to.

maybe that's why he feels such deep animosity towards you.

unlike the other knights, you don't speak or jest. you don't answer, only grunt once or twice, depending on what you want to convey. you never groan when dealt a nasty blow, and never gloat when you win the upper hand.

which you always seem to do.

you best him in sword fighting, in knife fighting, in target shooting and bow making. you're better than everyone, in all honesty, and can kill and gut an animal faster than they can haul one up the hill. it's maddening, and gojo hates being bestedat for yet another thing.

and although he'd bet his titles on your secret, he would never tell anyone about it. a part of him liked wondering who you were, liked guessing what you looked like under all that armour.

he comes to dinners later, spends more time practicing in the courtyard. he snaps at the rest of the men, blinks the bite of sweat out of his eyes. he's groan restless in trying to become the best, trying to beat you.

which is probably why he didn't see where he was walking one night, exhaustion and aching joints causing his eye sight to blur and body to sway as he tried to make his way to back to his quarters, bumping into what he thought was a statue only to find out it was a real person instead.

"shit," he mtutered, hands reaching out to steady you up, "sorry, i wasn't paying attention."

you shook your head, bowing slightly at the young prince as you kept your eyes trained on the ground.

gojo wiped at his face, hoping this wouldn't become a problem for him in the morning, coming to mind that another servant complained about his recklessness.

"it's alright," you say quietly with a small smile, "happens to the best of us."

gojo squinted, nodding as he swayed once more, steadying himself on the wall. he briefly glanced at you, noting a new face. it wasn't uncommon around the grounds, especially with how much he's been missing.

"oh...you'd might like to get your wounds checked out, my prince," you tell him, worried eyes glancing over his bruises and scrapes, all at the hands of that lady knight who keeps churning him down.

gojo looked down at his arms and hands, turning them over as if seeing it for the first time.

"right, right, thank you," he says dismally, going to leave before you shake your head, pointing to the cut along his neck.

"this one?" you say, motioning to it on your own skin.

gojo looks at you, his eyes squinting a little bit as he gives you a tight smile. with everything going on he just wants some sleep, not to be pestered by some flirting maid.

"right," gojo says between his teeth, "thank you again."

you nod, bowing once more as you leave. gojo shakes his head in annoyance, making the journey back to his room as he mutters about what new strategy he could use the next time he combats his new rival.

when he finally settles down and gets off, discarding his dirty clothes, he pauses at the mirror, his fingers lightly grazing over his neck. the blood has dried off, the wound barely even there, but that's not what catches his attention.

odd, he wonders, how could you have seen his cut under such a high collar?

[p1psqueaks]

LOVE AND DEEPSPACE — HE CONFESSES HIS LOVE FOR YOU

a/n: A MAN WHO YEARNS IS A MAN WHO EARNS !! also sorry if some of these sound repetitive, i was trying to make it fit the request

ZAYNE

You don’t remember exactly when you fell in love with Zayne.

Maybe it was the first time you caught him smiling — one of those rare, quiet things, tugging at the corner of his mouth like a secret only you got to see. Or maybe it was the way he remembered things about you: not the big, obvious stuff, but the little things — the way you take your coffee, the songs you hum when you’re distracted, the way your hand hovers just a second longer over old books.

It’s a quiet sort of adoration you carry for him. A fragile, sacred thing you keep pressed between your ribs where no one, especially not him, could see. You’re careful with it. You don’t flirt, you don’t push, you don’t hope.

Because how could someone like Zayne —sharp-eyed, steady, impossible Zayne — ever look at you and see what you so desperately feel?

You think you’re obvious sometimes. You catch yourself glancing at him for too long, leaning a little closer when he talks, laughing too quickly at his rare, dry jokes. But he never reacts. Never lingers. Never looks at you with anything other than that patient, unwavering calm.

So you resign yourself to the quietness of it. To loving him the way you love the stars —beautiful and distant and entirely untouchable.

Until today.

It starts the same as any other late evening. The sun has long since dipped below the horizon, the sky outside bleeding dark against the windows. You’re at headquarters, lingering over paperwork you don’t really need to be doing, pretending you aren’t waiting for him to pass by.

But tonight, Zayne doesn’t pass by.

He stops.

You don’t look up right away — you’re afraid if you meet his eyes, he’ll see everything you're trying so hard to hide. But you can feel him there, standing still, like he’s anchoring himself to the spot.

“Can we talk?” His voice is low, careful. It’s not a request.

Your heart trips over itself, but you nod. “Yeah. Of course.”

He moves to sit across from you, hands braced on his knees. He doesn’t fidget; Zayne never fidgets. But there’s a tension around him tonight, a quiet strain that unsettles you more than any sharp word or raised voice could.

For a moment, he says nothing. Just looks at you with those unreadable eyes, the ones you’ve tried so hard not to drown in.

“I’m not good at this,” he says finally, voice tight. “Feelings. Words.”

You smile, soft and aching. “I know.”

And you do know. You’ve known it since the beginning. Another reason why you could never expect anything more from him.

He exhales, sharp and quiet. His hands curl into fists against his knees.

“But that doesn’t mean I don’t have them,” he says. “I do.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, hard. It hurts, but it keeps you grounded.

“Zayne, you don’t have to—”

“I do,” he cuts in, sharper than usual. Then his voice softens, almost pleading. “I do.”

Your breath stutters in your chest.

He drags a hand through his hair, a rare sign of unease. “I thought if I waited, you’d see it. If I stayed close enough, protected you enough, you’d know.”

You blink, stunned. What?

“But you didn’t.” His voice breaks a little on the last word, and you swear the world tilts.

“Zayne…” Your voice is barely a whisper, fragile and unsteady.

“I’m in love with you,” he says, like it costs him something, like it matters. And the way he’s looking at you — raw, open, desperate — you realize it does.

Your mouth opens, but nothing comes out. He keeps going, filling the silence like he’s afraid if he stops, you’ll slip away.

“I tried to be patient. Tried to give you space. I thought — maybe you didn’t feel the same. Maybe you couldn’t.” He laughs, a rough, broken sound. “But I can’t keep pretending I’m okay with just being near you.”

He leans forward, hands braced on the table now, like he’s anchoring himself to you.

“I love you,” he says again, quieter. “I don’t know how to stop.”

It’s overwhelming. It’s terrifying. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted and everything you’ve convinced yourself you could never have.

You sit there, heart hammering, the words echoing inside you, cracking through every wall you’ve ever built.

And then — then — it clicks.

All the moments you thought were meaningless — the way he always sat just a little closer than necessary, how his hand would linger an extra second when he handed you something, how he looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention.

He’s been loving you this whole time.

Your chair scrapes against the floor as you push it back, standing on legs that feel too weak to hold you. His eyes track you, but he doesn’t move.

You reach out, tentative, fingers brushing against his. His hand turns instinctively, catching yours, grounding you.

“I—” Your voice shakes. You swallow, try again. “I love you too.”

For a second, neither of you moves. Just breathe, just exist, tethered by the thin thread of your joined hands.

And then he’s standing too, pulling you into him, arms wrapping around you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. You press your face into his chest, feeling the thud of his heart under your palms.

“I didn’t think—” You start, but he cuts you off, pressing his forehead against yours.

“You don’t have to think,” he murmurs. “Just stay.”

And you do.

For the first time, you allow yourself to stay.

XAVIER

You don’t know when it started — falling for Xavier.

Maybe it was gradual, like the slow fade of dusk into night, quiet and inevitable. Or maybe it was instant, the first time he looked at you with those dark, uncertain eyes and gave you one of those half-smiles that always seemed like a secret he didn’t know how to share.

You’re not sure. All you know is that it’s there —deep, rooted, impossible to ignore.

And you tell yourself he could never feel the same.

Because Xavier is… Xavier. Brilliant and quiet and achingly kind in a way that sneaks up on you. He’s the kind of person you could spend a lifetime deciphering and still not uncover all the hidden corners. You adore him — so much that it aches sometimes — but you tuck it all away. Keep it safe and hidden.

You think you're obvious. How could you not be? The way you light up when he walks into a room, the way your gaze always finds him first, the way you linger when you should walk away.

But he never says anything. Never acts like he notices. And part of you believes that’s answer enough.

So you stay quiet. You stay close. You love him the way you might love a painting in a museum— beautiful, unreachable, behind glass you don't dare to touch.

Until tonight.

It’s late. Too late for either of you to still be here, but somehow you are. The halls are empty, the hum of the city outside a distant murmur. You’re sitting in the quiet of the common room, a forgotten file in your lap, pretending to read.

Xavier’s across from you, a book balanced in his hands, though you can tell he hasn’t turned a page in a while.

You’re used to this, the comfortable silence that lives between you. But tonight, it feels… different. Tighter. Like the air is too heavy, like something’s straining to break free.

You chance a glance at him, and find he’s already looking at you.

Your breath catches.

He doesn’t look away. He doesn’t even pretend.

“Hey,” he says, voice low and rough.

“Hey,” you echo, trying to smile, to keep it light.

But something in his expression holds you still. There’s a tension there, a hesitance you’ve never seen before, like he’s standing on the edge of something and doesn’t know if he should jump.

“I’ve been trying to figure out how to say this,” he mutters, more to himself than to you.

You blink, confused. “Say what?”

He exhales sharply, fingers tightening around the book before he sets it aside with more force than necessary. His hands clench in his lap.

“That I’m in love with you,” he says, almost too fast, like the words have been bottled up for so long that now that they’re out, he can’t stop them. “I — God, I am. I have been for a while. And it’s—”

He cuts himself off, dragging a hand through his hair, a rare crack in his usually calm exterior.

“I kept thinking you must know,” he says, softer now, almost pleading. “That you must’ve figured it out. I thought I was being obvious.”

Your heart is a wild, thrumming thing in your chest. You’re sure he can hear it.

“You…” You struggle to find your voice. “You love me?”

His eyes, dark and raw, find yours again. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Yeah, I do.”

You sit there, frozen, the words crashing over you, rearranging everything you thought you knew.

Because suddenly, all the little things — the way he always found reasons to be near you, the way his gaze lingered when he thought you weren’t looking, the way he smiled softer, laughed quieter when it was just the two of you— they all come into focus.

He’s been loving you this whole time.

It’s overwhelming. Terrifying. Wonderful.

“I didn’t think…” You shake your head, blinking against the sting in your eyes. “I didn’t think someone like you could ever—”

“Don’t.” His voice is rough, trembling with an emotion he usually keeps so tightly guarded. “Don’t do that. Don’t act like you’re not — like you’re not you. I love you. Not because you’re perfect or because I think you’re some idea of something. I love you because you’re you.”

He stands then, almost like he can’t sit still anymore, and paces a short, agitated line in front of you before stopping, turning to face you.

“And I’m scared,” he admits, voice cracking. “I’m scared I screwed this up by not saying it sooner. But I couldn’t — I didn’t want to ruin what we have. I couldn’t stand the idea of you… pulling away.”

You’re standing too before you even realize it, hands trembling at your sides. He’s so close, you can feel the heat of him, the quiet urgency in his breathing.

You reach out, tentative, unsure, and your fingers brush his. His hand turns, catches yours, threads your fingers together like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“I love you too,” you whisper, the words catching on a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “I have for so long.”

For a moment, neither of you moves. And then he’s pulling you into him, arms wrapping around you in a hold that’s fierce and desperate and grounding all at once. You bury your face in his shoulder, breathing him in, feeling the way his heart races under your palms.

He presses his face into your hair, voice muffled but still so achingly tender.

“I should’ve told you sooner,” he murmurs. “I should’ve—”

“It’s okay,” you whisper back. “We’re here now.”

And he holds you tighter, like he’s never letting go

RAFAYEL

You love Rafayel the way one might love a sunset — fiercely, hopelessly, knowing you can never hold it in your hands.

It’s not difficult to fall for him. He’s all sharp edges and brilliant color, a storm of laughter and teasing words, but there’s a tenderness beneath it all that you catch glimpses of when he thinks you aren’t looking.

You adore him quietly, carefully.

Maybe a little obviously, though you tell yourself you’re subtle enough. A lingering glance here, a softened laugh there. You memorize the way he runs a hand through his hair when he’s tired, the rare vulnerability that creeps into his voice when he talks about his art, the way he looks at the world — like he’s always halfway in love with it.

And you’re convinced he could never feel the same.

Because he’s Rafayel — bold, brilliant, impossible. And you? You’re just... you. Not the sort of person who catches the attention of someone like him, no matter how many times you catch your breath when he’s near or how much of your heart you’ve already given away without ever meaning to.

You’ve made your peace with it. Or you tell yourself you have.

The gallery is quiet. Closing time passed an hour ago, but you linger, sitting in the center of the main room, the lights dimmed to a low, golden hush.

You’re pretending to be absorbed in one of his latest pieces — a swirling storm of color and shadow that somehow feels alive — when you hear him.

“Still here, Cutie?” His voice is light, teasing, but there’s an edge to it, a tightness you don’t usually hear.

You turn, offering a small smile. “Couldn’t leave without seeing this one again.”

He’s standing a few feet away, hands shoved into his pockets, the lines of his body tense. There’s a furrow between his brows, and his usual easy smirk is nowhere to be found.

“Rafayel?” you ask, soft.

He stares at you, silent, like he’s trying to work something out in his head. Then, before you can blink, he moves — crossing the space between you in a few long strides.

You stand automatically, heart leaping into your throat.

“I’ve tried to be patient,” he says, and his voice— his voice is thick with emotion, almost trembling. “Tried to wait for you to see it. Feel it.”

You blink, confused. “See what?”

He laughs — bitter, low, almost broken. “Us. Me. You. The way I…” He shakes his head, jaw tightening, like the words are fighting him.

“I thought you knew,” he says, softer now, almost defeated. “I thought I was obvious. I’ve never exactly been subtle, have I?”

Your heart is pounding so hard it’s a wonder he can’t hear it.

He steps closer, so close you could reach out and touch him, but you don’t. You’re frozen, waiting for something you can’t even name.

“I’m in love with you.” The words drop into the space between you like stones in a still pond. “And I have been for longer than I care to admit.”

Your mouth opens, but nothing comes out.

He laughs again, a soft, self-deprecating sound. “I’m not good at hiding things. Every look, every touch, every time I called you ‘darling’ or ‘beloved’ — I wasn’t playing. I meant every word.”

You’re shaking, you realize. Just a little.

“You love me,” you whisper, like you don’t dare believe it.

He huffs, frustrated. “Yes. Yes.” His hand lifts, almost touches your cheek, but falls back to his side. “And I’m terrified. Because you’ve spent all this time looking at me like I’m the stars and you’re just a passerby. Like you couldn’t possibly be allowed to reach out and touch. And I…” His voice cracks. “I would let you burn me alive if it meant you’d look at me the way I look at you.”

It hits you all at once.

The teasing that was always just a little softer with you. The way his eyes lingered when you thought he was being flippant. The gentleness threaded through every sharp-edged word he ever gave you.

He’s been loving you all along.

And you were too blind, too scared to see it.

Tears blur your vision, but you don’t move to hide them. You just step forward, closing the last bit of space between you, and reach for him.

Rafayel’s breath stutters as you lay your hand over his heart, feeling it hammer wildly under your palm.

“I love you too,” you whisper. “I just never thought you could—”

His hand snaps up, catching yours, holding it against his chest like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded.

“You are the only thing,” he says, fierce and trembling, “that has ever made me believe in forever.”

You laugh, watery and shaking, and he leans down, forehead pressing against yours, the air between you shivering with everything you’ve never said.

“I love you,” he murmurs again, like a vow. “And I’m not going to let you doubt it ever again.”

You nod, closing your eyes, feeling the weight of it, the overwhelming, beautiful truth of it.

You’re his. He’s yours. And this time, there’s no mistaking it.

SYLUS

Loving Sylus isn’t hard. He’s magnetic, all sharp smiles and easy arrogance, the kind of man who walks into a room and changes the gravity of it. He teases you mercilessly, throws smirks like careless sparks, and you catch each one like it’s precious.

You adore him — quietly, carefully.

Sometimes you wonder if it’s obvious, if he notices how you fold under his grin, how your heart stumbles whenever he leans in too close or calls you darling in that low, amused voice. But then he’ll laugh and turn away, leaving you to chase the echo of it alone.

You tell yourself it’s fine. That he couldn’t possibly feel the same. Sylus is effortless and sure in a way you could never hope to match.

You think you’re being subtle — that he doesn’t see.

You’re wrong.

It happens one evening when you least expect it.

You’re at Elysium, the lights dimmed low, most of the operatives long gone. You’re sitting on one of the lounge sofas, thumbing through reports you can’t bring yourself to focus on, when Sylus drops down beside you with the kind of fluid grace he wears like second skin.

“Burning the midnight oil, sweetie?” he drawls, voice low and teasing.

You glance at him, trying to keep it casual, even though your heart is already picking up speed. “Someone has to.”

He leans back, arms spread across the back of the sofa, fingertips just barely brushing your shoulder.

You pretend not to notice. He pretends not to notice you pretending.

“You know,” he says, voice a touch softer, “for someone who works so hard, you sure are bad at hiding things.”

You blink, startled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sylus tilts his head, studying you with that maddeningly amused expression. “It means you’re not as good at pretending as you think you are.”

Your stomach twists painfully. He knows. God, how long has he known?

You look away, cheeks burning, about to make some excuse — some terrible, awkward excuse — when his hand brushes yours, deliberate this time, and stills you.

“Look at me,” he murmurs, and there’s something in his voice now — something heavier, less playful.

You do, because how could you not?

He’s closer than you realized, eyes darker than usual, no trace of a smirk in sight.

“I’ve been waiting,” Sylus says, low and steady. “Waiting for you to figure it out. Thought maybe you’d catch on after the fifth time I found an excuse to be wherever you were. Or the tenth time I called you darling and looked at you like you hung the stars yourself.”

Your breath stutters.

He gives a soft, humorless laugh. “But you’re stubborn. And worse, you don’t believe you’re worth being loved by someone like me.”

You open your mouth to protest, but he’s already leaning in, voice dropping even lower, even rougher.

“So let’s make it simple,” he murmurs. “I’m in love with you.”

The world tilts. Your heart seizes.

“You—” You can’t seem to find your voice. “You’re just teasing—”

“Not this time.” His hand finds yours again, warm and steady. “This time, I’m dead serious.”

You search his face, desperate, disbelieving — and find no hint of his usual mischief there. Just something raw and terrifying and real.

He squeezes your hand, grounding you.

“I love you,” Sylus says, slower this time, deliberate. “I love the way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention. I love the way you challenge me without even realizing it. I love how you make me want things I didn’t think I could have.”

You’re shaking, and he must feel it, because his thumb brushes soothingly over your knuckles.

“Say something,” he says, voice softer now. “Please.”

You swallow, hard, and it still feels impossible — like if you speak, the moment will shatter.

“I love you too,” you whisper.

And just like that, the tension breaks.

Sylus exhales — a breathless, almost disbelieving sound — and then he’s pulling you toward him, not roughly, but with the kind of certainty that makes your knees weak. His hand cradles the back of your head, his forehead resting against yours.

“Took you long enough,” he murmurs, but there’s no bite in it — just a kind of aching tenderness.

You laugh, a watery, broken thing, and feel him smile against your skin.

“You really love me?” you whisper, still fragile with disbelief.

He leans back just enough to look at you properly, eyes bright and unbearably fond.

“More than I know what to do with,” he says, smiling — not the usual smirk, but something real, something yours.

And when he kisses you — slow, careful, devastating — it feels like coming home

CALEB

It was never a question, not really. Falling for him was as easy as breathing. Caleb, with his boyish smile and the sunlight in his laugh, the way he could find beauty in the ugliest moments and make you feel like maybe, just maybe, you were part of that beauty, too.

Sometimes you think it must show, that surely he must feel the way you unravel every time he leans too close, the way your heart trips when he looks at you and the whole world blurs at the edges.

But he never says anything. He stays the same— teasing, bright, devastatingly kind — and you stay tucked in your corner of impossible wishes, convinced he could never love you back.

Because Caleb is Caleb — light and easy and good. And you’re just someone who loves him too much to risk ruining what little you have.

You tell yourself it’s enough. It has to be.

And then, one night, it all falls apart.

The apartment is quiet, the rest of the world hushed and far away. You’re curled up on one of the old sofas, a book forgotten in your lap, your mind somewhere else entirely.

You don’t even hear him until he’s standing right in front of you.

You blink up at him, startled, and your heart stumbles at the sight of him — disheveled, restless, not the usual carefree Caleb you know. There’s something raw about him tonight, something stripped down and aching.

He looks at you like he’s been holding his breath for a very long time.

“Caleb?” you whisper.

For a second, he just stares at you. And then —then — he drops to his knees in front of you, his hands gripping the edge of the sofa like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he doesn’t hold onto something.

Your whole body stills.

“I can’t do it anymore,” he says, voice low and wrecked. “I can’t keep pretending.”

You can’t breathe. “Pretending what?”

“That I don’t love you.”

The world tilts, and you’re sure he can hear the way your heartbeat fractures under your ribs.

“I’ve tried,” he continues, and now his voice is shaking, his hands trembling where they grip the couch. “I’ve tried so damn hard to be patient. To stay close without wanting too much. I told myself it was enough just to be near you.”

He laughs, a hollow, broken sound. “But it’s not. It’s not enough, and it never was.”

Your hands are fists in your lap, nails biting into your palms to keep yourself from reaching for him, from believing this is real.

“I thought maybe you knew,” he says, softer now, desperate. “I thought maybe you saw it —the way I look at you when you’re not watching, the way I come alive when you’re near. I thought maybe you felt it too.”

You can’t speak. Can’t move.

“I love you,” he says again, fierce, raw. “God, I love you. And it’s killing me not to tell you, not to have you.”

And then, slowly, like he can’t stand not touching you for another second, he reaches out, taking your hands in his, prying them open, cradling them like they’re something fragile and precious.

“Tell me you don’t feel it,” he pleads, voice barely more than a whisper. “Tell me you don’t want me, and I’ll walk away. I swear I will.”

You stare at him — at Caleb, your Caleb —kneeling in front of you, holding your hands like they’re lifelines, looking at you like you’re the center of his whole universe.

And suddenly it all crashes into place.

The way his eyes soften when they meet yours. The way he always found a reason to linger, to stay close, to make you laugh just when you needed it most. The way he yearned — oh, how had you never seen it before?

He’s been loving you all along.

You reach for him before you even think about it, your hands trembling as they cup his face, your fingers threading into his hair.

His eyes flutter shut, a shudder wrecking through him.

“I love you,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “I love you so much.”

He exhales, a sound of pure, shattered relief, and then he’s surging forward, pulling you into him, burying his face in your shoulder, arms locked around you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

You cling to him just as tightly, feeling the way he trembles, the way his breath stutters against your skin.

“I thought I’d lost my chance,” he breathes. “I thought I was too late.”

“Never,” you whisper. “You’re never too late.”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, and the desperation in his eyes nearly undoes you.

“I’m yours,” he says, voice fierce and trembling. “If you’ll have me, I’m yours.”

You nod, tears spilling over now, and he kisses you like it’s the first time he’s breathed in months — deep and aching and real.

When you finally pull apart, he presses his forehead to yours, still holding you like he doesn’t quite trust the world not to take you away.

“I love you,” he murmurs again, over and over, like a prayer.

And for the first time, you let yourself believe it.