seikaverse

[seikaverse]

Hey evie! A little update since I haven't been posting consistently.. I just wanna say that my inbox is open for asks and requests but I won't be able to respond right away since I am really busy this week and the next 💔 BUT I WILL BE DOING THE REQUESTS WHEN I'M NOT BUSY ANYMORE OR IF I HAVE TIME ! And for the anons that left requests that are rotting in my inbox, trust, I'm gonna write them soon 🙏 and another thing that's stopping me from writing is WRITER'S BLOCK. Like okay bye

[seikaverse]

"On All Fours"

a/n: Two anon requests mixed into one story. Reader takes control while bratty sub!scara gets what he deserves.

cw: rimming, pegging, doggy style position, prostate stimulation, reader stroking his cock during penetration, humping/grinding, spanking, dirty talk, degradation, power imbalance, brat taming, no explicit aftercare, mild overstimulation

pairing: brattysub!scara x you

genre: smut

"Get on your hands and knees."

Scaramouche glared at you over his shoulder, eyes narrowed. "Tch. Ordering me around already?"

You raised a brow. "You’re hard and twitching and still talking back?"

He bit his lip—because yeah, he was. His thighs were tight, his cock flushed and leaking, and every second you made him wait only made it worse.

But he still turned, slow and deliberate, giving you that little bratty tilt of the head like he wanted to test you. And he did.

But he still got into position.

You watched him drop onto all fours on the bed, his back arched perfectly, ass up, face turned away, jaw tight with defiance.

"You’re lucky I like you like this," you said, crawling up behind him.

"I’m not lucky," he snapped. "You just have no self-control—nghh—!"

You spread him open and spat—right onto his hole—and then licked it clean before he could finish mouthing off.

He choked. "W-Wait—f-fuck—!"

You didn’t. You buried your tongue deeper, dragging it over his rim, flicking at it until he was whimpering into the pillows. His thighs shook under your hands as you licked him open slowly, persistently, your mouth messy and wet.

The more he squirmed, the more you held him down, digging your fingers into his hips.

"I thought you said I was too slow?" you teased, tongue flicking again. "But now you’re shaking like this. Hm."

He growled—yes, actually growled—but it cracked into a whimper when you pushed your tongue in.

"F-fuck, I hate you…"

"You say that, but you’re dripping."

You pulled back, letting your thumb toy with his entrance now—slick, twitching. He let out a weak curse, then gasped when you slipped one finger in.

The second came easy. You curled both just right, rubbing against that spot inside him that made his whole body jolt.

He was breathless now, trying to keep his hips still but failing, grinding back against your hand as you worked him open.

"Ohhh my god—fuck—right there—don’t stop—"

You smirked.

Then reached for the strap.

The toy was thick, prepped, and already lubed. You slid it on, adjusted the straps around your hips, and lined yourself up behind him.

"Beg."

He looked over his shoulder, face flushed, strands of hair sticking to his damp cheek.

"You’re such a smug—ahh—"

You slapped his ass once.

He gasped.

"…Please. Put it in."

You slid in.

Slow. Deep. Until his back arched and his breath hitched so hard it punched out of him.

You didn’t move right away—just leaned forward and reached under him, hand wrapping around his cock.

"Look at you," you whispered, grinding your hips into him as your hand began to stroke. "Tight around me back here and hard up here. You’re so greedy, pretty boy."

He groaned, forehead hitting the sheets. "F-fuck, fuckfuck—"

You rolled your hips, thrusting in deep, then again, slow and steady. Each push dragged against that perfect spot inside him, and your hand never stopped working his cock in rhythm.

"Look at you humping," you panted, watching his hips push back and rock into your hand at the same time. "That desperate?"

"Shut up—ahhh—shut—up—"

You drove into him harder, keeping your pace brutal and deep while your hand pumped his cock fast and tight.

The bed rocked beneath you. His moans turned choked, high-pitched, broken. He humped into your hand like a slut and pushed back onto the strap like he couldn’t get enough.

"You're gonna cum just like this?" you teased, biting down against his shoulder. "Bent over and getting fucked while you hump my hand like a bitch in heat?"

"Y-yes—d-don’t stop, please, please—!"

He came hard—spilling into your hand, twitching around your cock, crying out into the sheets while you kept fucking him through it.

You didn’t stop until his arms collapsed under him and he went limp on the bed, chest heaving, sweat trailing down his spine.

Only then did you pull out—slow, watching him twitch—and let go of his softening cock.

He was still breathing heavy, drool pooling against the pillow, face ruined.

You leaned over him, nudged his cheek with your knuckles.

"Still hate me?" you asked, smirking

He gave a soft, exhausted huff. "…So much."

But his hips tilted toward you again—barely, involuntarily.

Like he wanted more.

[seikaverse]

"Deliver Us Into Temptation"

a/n: I have no words.. yeah.

cw: religious blasphemy, corruption kink, dubcon elements, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, sacrilegious imagery, supernatural themes, guilt, temptation vs. faith conflict, humiliation. (tell me if I missed anything)

pairing: incubus!scara x nun!reader

genre: smut

The convent chapel was quiet — almost sacred in its stillness.

You knelt before the altar, dressed in your full habit: the long black tunic flowing to your ankles, the white wimple framing your face, and the black veil draping over your shoulders. The rosary was wrapped tightly around your fingers, the crucifix cool against your chest.

Your knees ached against the cold stone floor, but you didn’t move. You prayed harder tonight, whispering to drown out the thoughts that had plagued you for weeks — thoughts of warmth, of touch, of sin.

And then, the air shifted.

"You kneel so beautifully, little lamb."

Your eyes snapped open.

From the shadows, he emerged — the same raven-haired demon who had haunted your nights. His violet eyes glowed faintly in the dim candlelight, curling horns catching the glow. His clothes were as indecent as his smile: black leather straps crisscrossing over his bare chest, gold chains draped across his shoulders, low-slung trousers that did nothing to hide his shape.

"Stay back," you warned, gripping your cross.

He laughed softly. "Even in that habit, you tempt me." His gaze slid over your modest form, lingering at your waist. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?"

"I serve God," you spat, rising to your feet. "You won’t touch me."

"Oh, but I already have." He stepped closer, slow and deliberate. "I’ve felt your heat, your shiver. I’ve smelled your arousal, even through all these holy layers."

"You’re lying—"

He smirked. "Then tell me to leave."

You opened your mouth… and nothing came out.

"Exactly." He circled you like a predator. "You clutch that rosary like it will save you, but we both know… the ache between your thighs isn’t something prayer will cure."

"Don’t," you hissed, but your voice trembled.

"Let me show you."

Before you could turn away, his hand cupped your cheek. His touch was warm — too warm — and it seeped into you like poison. You tried to push him away, but he kissed you, deep and slow, coaxing your lips open with his tongue.

You shoved at his chest, but his grip only tightened. "Don’t fight me," he murmured. "Your God isn’t here."

He caught your wrist, guiding your hand to the bulge straining against his trousers. Your gasp was soft but damning.

"Feel what you do to me," he said, smirking against your ear. "Does He make you feel this way?"

Your mind screamed no, but your body leaned closer.

His hand slipped beneath your tunic, fingertips trailing up your thigh until they brushed the damp heat between your legs. You sucked in a breath.

"Mmm," he hummed. "So wet… for a servant of God."

You wanted to deny it, but the words wouldn’t come.

He pushed you back until you sat on the altar steps, bunching your robes at your waist. The cool air hit your bare skin, and your cheeks burned.

Then his mouth was on you — hot, wet, sinful. You cried out, hands flying to grip the altar edge as his tongue slid through your folds. He sucked your clit gently at first, then harder, drawing out whimpers you couldn’t contain.

"Stop—ah—"

"Say my name," he murmured against you.

You shook your head violently. "N-No—"

His tongue flicked faster, relentless, and the word tore free. "Scaramouche—!"

He grinned against you. "Good girl."

You were unraveling — pleasure curling tight in your belly — until you glanced up and saw the crucifix above. The shame struck you like a blow.

What am I doing?

You shoved him away, scrambling off the steps. Your knees hit the cold stone, and you snatched up your rosary, clutching it to your chest.

"No… no, no…" Tears blurred your vision as you bowed your head. "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned," you whispered desperately. "I let evil touch me. I—please—please take him away from me…"

Your voice cracked. "Save me, please…"

He laughed — low and mocking.

"You’re praying now?" His smirk was sharp. "You think He didn’t see you spread your legs for my tongue? You think He didn’t hear how sweetly you moaned for me?"

"Shut it—"

"You were dripping for me," he continued, prowling closer. "And now you’re begging Him to erase it? Pathetic. Do you really think you can pray away the taste of you on my tongue?"

"Leave me!" you cried.

"No." He crouched in front of you, prying your hands from the rosary. "You can keep pretending, little lamb, but your body already knows the truth."

His fingers found your thigh again, sliding higher until they met the slick proof of your arousal.

"Still wet," he said with a cruel smile. "Even while you pray."

"That’s—"

"—because you want me." His hand gripped your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. "And I’m going to make you admit it."

You tried to crawl back, but he pushed you onto your back, pinning your wrists above your head. His mouth was on yours again, hungry and devouring.

When he freed himself from his trousers, your eyes widened. Thick. Hard. Veined.

"Please—"

"You could still tell me to stop," he murmured, lining himself up. "But you won’t."

The first push made you gasp — stretching you, forcing your body to yield inch by inch. He groaned low, sinking deeper until he filled you completely.

"There," he breathed. "Now you’re mine."

He began to move — slow, deep strokes that stole your breath. Then faster, harder, until the slap of his hips against yours echoed in the chapel.

"This is wrong," you sobbed, tears slipping down your cheeks.

"No," he groaned, leaning down to kiss you hard. "It’s perfect."

Each thrust sent heat spiraling through you, shame tangled with pleasure until you couldn’t tell them apart.

"You’re… ruining me," you gasped.

"That’s the point." His smirk was cruel. "By the time I’m done, you’ll forget how to pray for anything but this."

Your climax hit hard — your body clenching around him, your moan echoing loud enough to shame you. He groaned your name, thrusting harder until he spilled deep inside you, holding you there so none of it could escape.

When you finally went limp beneath him, trembling, he kissed your temple.

"Pray again tomorrow," he whispered against your ear. "And remember — no matter whose name you say… it’s mine you’ll be thinking of."

...

The confessional was dim and close, the smell of incense heavy in the air. You knelt, your black habit pooling across the bench, rosary warm between your fingers.

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned," you began quietly. "It has been one day since my last confession."

The grille slid open with a faint scrape.

"I have been prideful," you said. "Distracted in prayer. I have… entertained impure thoughts. Dreams I cannot control."

"Dreams of me," came the reply.

The words slid into your ears like smoke. Your breath caught. That was not Father’s voice.

"What—"

"Your habit bunched around your hips," he murmured. "Your veil still on. Just like last night."

A cold shiver ran down your spine. "…No."

"Yes," he breathed, low and certain. "And you woke wanting more."

Your fingers dug into the rosary. "Where is Father?"

A pause — then the faint curl of a smirk in his voice. "Not here."

You pressed yourself back against the wall. "Then who—"

A low chuckle cut you off. And then — warm breath brushed your ear.

He was inside your side of the booth.

Your gaze snapped up and met his — violet eyes glowing faintly in the dark, a predator’s gaze fixed on prey.

He tilted his head, smile slow and knowing. "You really thought you came here to confess," he whispered. "But I came to hear the rest of your sins… and make sure you leave with new ones."

[seikaverse]

HIII ive read some of ur works and i LOVEEE them!!! like the way u write n how u portray scara is just so perfect n yummy. so grateful for ur works 😖😖 and remember to take care of urself btw !!! :))

THANK YOU THANK YOUU OMGGG YOU GUYS LITERALLY DON'T KNOW HOW THIS MEANS SO MUCH TO ME☹️💗💗 I WILL AND YOU TOO!!

[seikaverse]

Pooks dw you are so right I hate school I NEED IT TO BE WINTER BREAK OR SUMMER BREAK 💔

There's no winter in our country BUT YOU'RE SO RIGHT and it's so long asw like wym 8 months of school and only 3 months of rest💔💔

[seikaverse]

SINCE LAST YEAR???????????????????????!????

YEAH😭😭🙏🙏 I made my acc since 2023 and started making fics just this year so around those past two years I was just reading stuffs I liked 😭 and obviously your work was one of them😋😋

[seikaverse]

why am i still anon you technically know who i am

I tend to forget.. and right now, I literally forgot who you are so...😭😭 Sorrysorryyyyy

[seikaverse]

i just wanted to say, holy smokes bro i genuinely love ur scara fics 😭😭😭😭THE WAY U WRITE MODERN AU SCARA IS EXACTLY THE WAY I IMAGINE HIM TO BE. im so appreciative of ur work like it genuinely makes my day, and i literally get so excited when i see a new post by u. so here’s my message of gratitude❤️ pls dont be overworked and burnt out from everything, ur actually one of my fav writers on this app 🙏🙏🙏🙏

AWWWWWW THANK YOU SOOOOOO MUCH ANON FOR YOUR KIND WORDSS!!! It genuinely means so much to me and it helped me feel less tired from my current situation 😭🙏🙏 I LOAF YOUUUUU!!!/P

[seikaverse]

How's life in school? Any teaa you can share 👀

Also cant believe its Friday already wtf

Yap😜⬇️

I kinda don't like my schedule and... the teachers.... But anyway, yaaa it's still kinda manageable (for now) Also, we just finished presenting our yell for language month (buwan ng wika) yesterday and now we're practicing for the sabayang pagbigkas (if you don't know, search it up because yeah)... Which will also be a presentation where everyone will be watching💔💔💔 I'M GONNA CRY SO HARD BRO but honestly I'm fine with it??? Since all I need to do is memorize our lines and choreographies and we're done. Actually my classmates already made the lines so by next week we'll be practicing the tone and memorising the choreography then the presentation. We only have a week to prepare btw🗣️🗣️ The tea? None. Except my ass having a tiny happy crush on a first year 😭 OKAY BEFORE YOU GUYS CANCEL ME FOR THIS, NO I DON'T HAVE ANY FEELINGS FOR HER AND NO I WILL NOT HAVE FEELINGS FOR HER. Even tho I sound like I'm convincing myself more than you guys but still😭😭😭 I just find her cute, okay?? Like ughhh I can't even explain it without sounding like I have feelings for her but GOSHHHH YOU GUYS UNDERSTAND ME RIGHTTTT??? RIGHHHHTTTTTTTTTT??🙏🙏🙏 Anyway, yeah... I hope this only last for like, 3-5 days only because I CANNOT have myself getting distracted again😮‍💨😮‍💨 and bro today being Friday is actually a relief. I'M SO FREAKING TIRED FROM SCHOOLLLLLLL!!!!

[seikaverse]

i think when cuddling scara he would be the type of person to put one leg over your body and literally trap you………

YES. I AGREE. Also, I literally love to imagine that every time I'm laying down on my bed and think about him..I need him beside me.

[seikaverse]

WHAT WOULD YOU DO if i just took a bite out of you and ran away

What would YOU do if I did that before you?😜 /HJ

[seikaverse]

THE BOUFAILURE SCARA

OOHHHHHHH!! Hey so... I've actually already liked that last year (yes. last year.) and I just re-liked it again since I accidentally undid it while I was scrolling on my likes and.. yeah😭😭 no cuz like that was like one of my faves b4 back then and I would re-read it everytime I could!!😭

[seikaverse]

"Soaked For Nothing"

cw: fingering, panty pulling, oral (f receiving), begging, overstimulation, filthy language, spitting, orgasm denial, possessive teasing, controlling behavior, no actual sex, general filth

pairing: stepbrother!scara x reader

genre: smut

It was just past midnight.

You’d fallen asleep warm, skin sticky from the humidity, sprawled across your bed in only a loose, oversized shirt and panties — nothing else. You didn’t even bother with a blanket. Legs half-parted, one knee drawn up. Your shirt had ridden up your waist from all your shifting.

And he had the perfect view.

Scaramouche stood at your doorway, quiet as a shadow, eyes dark and jaw tight as he stared at the soft outline of your pussy beneath the sheer fabric of your underwear.

Thin cotton clinging to your folds.

Slick already bleeding through the center.

And you were completely unaware.

He stepped inside, closed the door, and locked it behind him with a quiet click.

The bed dipped under his weight.

You stirred, lashes fluttering, and the second you moved to sit up —

his palm gently pressed against your stomach.

"Shhh," he whispered, voice low and dangerous. "Don’t say a word."

Your breath hitched as he leaned over you, fingers slipping beneath your shirt to push it up, slowly baring your hips, your stomach, the top of your panties. His eyes were fixed on the thin wet patch right over your slit.

He smirked.

"Sleeping like a whore," he muttered, more amused than angry. "Panties soaked through. And you weren’t even dreaming about me, huh?"

You whimpered.

He traced one finger down the fabric, slow and deliberate, dragging it along your slit until it reached the edge — and then? He tugged.

Your panties were peeled down with a cruel, unhurried slowness. The cotton stuck to your folds, practically glued with arousal. He watched every inch of it come off, eyes trained on your pussy like it was his to study.

Because it was.

He tossed your panties aside.

Then spread your thighs open wide — and let out the filthiest groan.

"Fuck me…"

Your folds were flushed, puffy, glistening. Your hole clenched at the sudden chill, and your clit gave the tiniest twitch.

Scaramouche licked his lips. "Look at this fuckin’ mess."

He pressed his thumbs to your folds and spread them apart, exposing every twitching inch of your pussy to the low light.

"Bet I could break you with just using my fingers," he muttered. "Wouldn’t even need to fuck you."

Then — he leaned down and spat.

Hot and messy.

It dripped between your folds, mixed with your slick, and ran down to your entrance with a wet drip.

You gasped, legs twitching, but his grip tightened around your thighs.

"Stay open for me."

And then his tongue was on you.

He licked you slow. Long and heavy. From hole to clit. Then back again.

You moaned.

But when your hips tried to buck, he pinned them to the bed and growled:

"Don’t fuckin’ move."

His mouth latched around your clit, tongue circling slow, wet pressure. He sucked. He teased. Then released you with a lewd pop, only to do it again.

When he pushed a finger into your hole, you gasped.

It slid in too easily — you were soaking, throbbing, squeezing around him with a high, desperate whine.

"You like this?" he mocked softly. "One finger and you're already shaking."

He started thrusting it slowly — curling upward every time, brushing that sweet spot deep inside you.

Then a second finger joined it.

Your back arched.

"Fuck, you're greedy," he growled, mouth back on your clit. "Taking both so good… clenching already."

His fingers were relentless — curling, thrusting, fucking into you while his mouth stayed on your clit. Every slick sound of your body was obscene, wet and noisy and loud against the room’s stillness.

You couldn’t think.

You moaned, sobbed, begged — legs trembling.

"I-I’m gonna cum—please—!"

But that’s when he stopped.

Everything.

His fingers stilled. His mouth pulled away.

You blinked through the haze.

"What—no—please—!"

But he only smiled. Cruel and slow.

"You don’t get to cum yet."

You whimpered, nearly crying.

He leaned over you, his fingers still buried deep, gently spreading them inside you — forcing your soaked pussy open from the inside.

"You’re gonna cum when I say," he whispered. "Not before."

Then he slapped your pussy.

A loud, wet smack.

You cried out — thighs jerking — but he caught them again. His palm gently rubbed your swollen lips right after.

"Sensitive now, huh?"

Then, just as you were catching your breath…

He pulled his fingers out.

Let you feel the emptiness.

And kissed your inner thigh once, softly — mockingly tender.

Then, with your panties discarded on the floor, your legs still spread and your pussy twitching open, slick on your thighs and sheets beneath you—

He pulled your shirt back down to cover you.

And left.

Lock clicking shut behind him.

Leaving you soaked, ruined, and throbbing with no release.

[seikaverse]

I included chiikawa and the juniors loved itt(⁠/⁠^⁠-⁠^)⁠/

I'm assigned to manage the freedom wall for the art club tomorrow but I'm lowkey scared since I kinda have social anxiety but like I already agreed (people pleasure much) so I don't even have the choice to back out anymore💔💔 anyway I'm making the sign for the club rn so.... Toodless💗💗

[seikaverse]

"The Softest Point Of No Return"

a/n: Anon req!Scaramouche (Kunikuzushi) slowly, stubbornly realizes he's falling for you — painfully aware of every moment he slips further, but still trying to act like he’s fine.

pairing: scaramouche x reader

genre: fluff

Scaramouche didn’t mean to fall in love.

Really, he didn’t.

He saw it coming from miles away—like watching a slow-motion car crash.

And still, he didn’t swerve.

It started with the little things.

It always starts with the little things.

The way you walked beside him even when he never asked.

The way you texted him updates about your day even when he left you on read for two hours.

The way you somehow knew when he needed quiet and when he needed to be dragged out into the sun.

You showed up. Consistently. Genuinely. Without asking for anything back.

And for someone like him—someone built on caution, layered in cynicism—it was disarming.

He didn’t realize how deep he was until one day, you yawned beside him on the couch, curled up in one of his hoodies (he would never admit he gave it to you on purpose), and mumbled,

"You feel like peace, you know that?"

He turned away. Scoffed. Called you a corny idiot.

But his heart clenched so violently it scared him.

He tried to ignore it.

Classic denial.

When you touched his shoulder casually, he didn’t flinch—he froze.

When you chewed your straw while talking to him, he had to look away.

When you fell asleep beside him during a movie, head resting against his arm, he stared at the ceiling like it had answers.

He tried so hard not to care.

But then you laughed one day—head thrown back, eyes crinkled, nose scrunched—and something broke.

Like a dam snapping inside his chest.

And all he could think was,

"God, I’m so fucked."

Because this wasn’t just a crush.

He wanted you.

In every version of his life.

He wanted your voice in his kitchen, your hair on his pillow, your laughter echoing through his apartment when it was too quiet. He wanted to fight with you about what to order and then fall asleep beside you when the pizza arrived too late. He wanted everything.

But how do you say all that when you’re scared?

So instead, he softened. Quietly. Slowly.

You wouldn’t know it, but every time he brought you tea without asking, every time he let you nap on his lap, every time he let you win an argument just to see you smile—it was him saying:

"I’m already yours. I just don’t know how to say it."

The first kiss didn’t happen in some grand moment.

It happened late. Rain was hitting the windows of his apartment in soft, rhythmic pulses. You were both sitting on his floor, surrounded by half-eaten takeout and a shared blanket. The movie playing on his TV had long ended.

You were close. Too close. Your knees brushed his, and you didn’t move away.

"I don’t get you sometimes," you murmured, turning to him with that sleepy look in your eyes.

He blinked. "What?"

"You act like you hate everyone... but then you do things like this. Let me in."

He looked down at your intertwined ankles.

"You’re not everyone," he muttered.

You smiled, slow and soft. "Then who am I to you?"

And it hit him all at once—no more slow build-up, no more tiptoeing. Just clarity.

You were everything.

So he leaned in before he could think too hard.

And kissed you.

Gently. Hesitantly. Like you were something sacred.

It wasn’t rough or breathless—it was careful. Like he was scared he’d ruin it. Like he’d been holding back so long that now he didn’t know how to give without trembling.

When he pulled away, his voice was low. Unsteady.

"...I think I’ve been in love with you for a while."

Your eyes widened.

He almost regretted it—almost. Until you reached up and brushed your fingers against his jaw.

"I was starting to think I imagined all of it," you whispered. "But I wanted it to be real so badly."

And when you kissed him again—pulling him back in, arms winding around his neck—he knew there was no going back.

No pretending.

No denying.

The confession, the real one, came a few days later. He’d kissed you, yes. But he hadn’t fully let himself be seen.

So one night, sitting on his balcony with a hoodie half-zipped and stars blurry in the sky, he finally spoke.

"I used to think I didn’t have the capacity to feel things like this," he said quietly. "Like I’d missed the part where people learn how to love without breaking themselves open."

You didn’t speak—just held his hand tighter.

"But then you showed up," he continued, voice barely above a whisper. "And you were so warm. So annoyingly persistent. You made it so easy to care. And that scared the shit out of me."

You let him talk.

"You asked me once who you were to me," he said. "You’re the only one who makes the world quieter when you're near. The only person I want to let in—completely. And I’m still learning how to do that. But... I want to. With you."

And for once, he didn’t feel like running after spilling his guts.

Because you leaned into him, kissed the side of his head, and whispered,

"You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to stay."

He turned to you slowly, hand rising to cradle your cheek.

"I’ll stay," he promised. "As long as you’ll have me."

[seikaverse]

I'm assigned to manage the freedom wall for the art club tomorrow but I'm lowkey scared since I kinda have social anxiety but like I already agreed (people pleasure much) so I don't even have the choice to back out anymore💔💔 anyway I'm making the sign for the club rn so.... Toodless💗💗

[seikaverse]

Hey evvv so like, I'm kinda busy this week (clubs and school stuff) so I'll be doing the requests on weekends but I'll be posting the fics from my drafts so I'm still active even tho I'm really busy😜😜