soupieoopieisloopie

[soupieoopieisloopie]

This is tew cuteeeee!!!

lover, you should come over. ݁⋆ ۶ৎ ݁˖ .

featuring: sylus, caleb, rafayel

synopsis: your man may be a yearner, but that won't stop you from out-yearning him. based on this request. ♡

content: fluff & comfort! reader is yearner3000

sylus. ݁⋆ ۶ৎ ݁˖ .

The room felt unbearably vast without him. His side of the bed had cooled hours ago, leaving you restless and sulky in the tangle of sheets. You rolled toward the hollow he’d left behind, nose pressed into the pillow that still carried the faintest trace of his shampoo — sharp cedar, smoke, something darkly clean that was uniquely him. You breathed it in like it could trick your body into thinking he was still here, but it only made the ache sharper.

Your fingers drifted over the blankets where he usually sprawled, searching for warmth that wasn’t there. The air was heavy with his cologne, threaded faintly into the fabric, and still it wasn’t enough. It felt like every part of you was tuned to his absence — your skin prickling with the memory of his touch, your ears straining for the sound of his boots in the hall.

With a little whimper, you slipped out of bed and padded across the room. His closet yawned open like a forbidden door, lined with rows of pressed shirts and jackets. You ran your hand along them, overwhelmed by the sheer presence of him woven into every piece. Finally, you tugged free a black button-down, the fabric cool against your skin as you slid it over your bare shoulders. It hung loose, swallowing you whole, smelling of him so strongly it made your knees weak.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, burying your face against the collar as though you could fold him into your bones this way. Still, the ache remained. Still, you missed him like you hadn’t seen him in weeks instead of a handful of hours.

You stepped out of the closet, drowning in Sylus’s shirt, when a sharp caw made you freeze.

Perched on the high canopy of the bedframe, Mephisto tilted his metallic head, one crimson eye glinting in the low light. His wings twitched once, the faint whirr of gears filling the silence before another, even more insistent caw broke it.

You narrowed your eyes at him, clutching the loose folds of the shirt closer to your chest. “Don’t look at me like that,” you muttered, cheeks heating. “I’m not pathetic, I just…miss him.”

The crow ruffled its steel feathers with a grinding clink, letting out a noise that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle.

“Stop making fun of me!” you huffed, stamping your bare foot against the rug. “If you’re so smart, why don’t you tell your dad to come home already?”

Mephisto tilted his head again, gaze unblinking, before loosing another harsh, mocking caw that had you groaning in frustration.

“Stupid bird,” you grumbled, pushing past the heavy door into the hall, the long sleeves of Sylus’s shirt slipping past your hands as you walked. “Traitor.”

The base was quiet at this hour, shadows pooling in the corners as you padded barefoot down the hall. The sleeves of Sylus’s shirt slipped over your hands, brushing against your thighs with every step, the faint trace of his cologne clinging stubbornly to the fabric. It was a poor substitute for his arms, but it was all you had.

In the lounge, the dim glow of the record player caught your eye. You hesitated only a moment before kneeling to rifle through the stack of vinyls, fingers finding the one you knew by heart. His favorite. The one he always put on when the two of you ended up circling the room together, swaying like conspirators lost in your own secret world.

You set the record gently in place, lowering the needle until the warm crackle of sound filled the air. Strings swelled low and smooth, the melody wrapping around you like a memory. You could almost feel the ghost of his hand at your waist, the heat of his palm spanning the small of your back as he pulled you into a slow dance only he knew the rhythm of.

Curling up on the couch, you drew your knees to your chest, burying your face in the collar of his shirt. The cushions smelled faintly of smoke and leather, lingering traces of him that only made you ache more. You let the music play, trying to imagine he was here, that any moment you’d look up and find him standing over you with that insufferable smirk — ready to tease you for missing him this badly.

Instead, there was only the music and the silence between each note, deepening the emptiness until you thought you might drown in it.

“You look like a kitten licking its wounds, sweetie.”

The low rumble of his voice slid through the lounge, curling around you before you even had the chance to lift your head. Your breath caught. Then you saw him — leaning against the doorframe, silver hair catching the dim lamplight, that insufferable smirk tugging at his lips.

You didn’t think — you just bolted. The record player hummed in the background as you scrambled off the couch and all but launched yourself at him. He caught you with a quiet oof, stumbling back half a step before his arms locked around your waist.

A laugh rumbled in his chest, deep and warm against your ear. “Miss me, kitten?”

You buried your face in his shirtfront, clutching fistfuls of his coat like you might fall apart if you let go. The sheer relief of his warmth, his scent — him — made your eyes sting. Slowly, you tilted your head up, cheeks burning, lips parting as if to say something but only managing a little nod. Your eyes met his, wide and starry, and the smirk on his mouth softened, just barely.

He brushed a thumb over your cheek, tilting your chin so he could study your expression. “I was only gone for a few hours,” he teased, leaning down until his breath grazed your lips. “And here you are, acting like I vanished for days. What would you do if I actually left you for a week?”

You huffed, face heating even more, clinging tighter to him. “Didn’t realize missing my boyfriend was a crime.”

Sylus chuckled, low and rich, as though savoring the words. “Mm. No crime,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “But it might just be dangerous, sweetie. You keep looking at me like that, and I’ll never want to leave again.”

He guided you back toward the couch, one large hand warm at the small of your back. When he sat, he pulled you effortlessly into his lap, settling you sideways against him. His coat slipped from his shoulders as though it had been waiting for this moment, pooling around the both of you.

Before he could speak, you leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. Then another. Then another. Your lips flitted over his face in a frantic scatter — his jaw, the corner of his mouth, even the slope of his nose. A giggle bubbled out of you as you caught the faint flush climbing his ears, and that only encouraged you to lean down, brushing a trail against his throat where the collar of his shirt gaped open.

He tilted his head back with a low groan, ears burning crimson despite the smirk tugging at his mouth. “What’s all this for, kitten?”

You drew back just far enough to beam at him, cheeks flushed, voice soft but so earnest it hurt. “I’m making up for lost time.”

A laugh rumbled through him, though it was laced with fondness. He wrapped his arms snugly around your waist, pulling you closer until you could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your ribs. He stole a kiss of his own, then another, slower this time, his lips warm and lingering on yours.

When he shifted like he meant to set you aside, you immediately latched onto him, arms tightening around his shoulders. “No—don’t let go,” you pleaded, muffled against his neck.

Sylus chuckled, giving your hip a squeeze. “Relax, sweetie. I just need to get changed. You can argue with Mephisto again while you wait.”

That was when his gaze dipped lower, taking in the way his black button-down draped over you, the hem brushing your thighs and the sleeves nearly swallowing your hands. His mouth curved into something sharper than a smirk, crimson eyes glittering.

“Well, look at you,” he drawled, thumb brushing over the fabric at your hip. “Stealing my clothes now? You know it’s dangerous to tempt me like this, kitten.”

Your cheeks burned as you squirmed in his lap, tugging the fabric tighter around yourself. “It smells like you,” you muttered, almost shy, as though that excused the crime.

“Kitten…” His voice went low, a dangerous sort of affection threading through it. He tugged you back into his chest, lips brushing your ear as he murmured, “You’re going to kill me.”

caleb. ݁⋆ ۶ৎ ݁˖ .

The morning light crept gently across the room, spilling in pale gold over messy sheets. Caleb’s arm was still heavy around your waist, pinning you close against the steady rise and fall of his chest. He’d been gone most of yesterday, the empty ache of his absence stretching every hour unbearably thin. Now that he was here again, you couldn’t sleep — afraid to waste a single second of his closeness.

You tilted your head to watch him. His lashes brushed faint shadows over his cheeks, his features softened in sleep, all the edges of his usual restraint melted into something almost boyish. The sight made your chest ache. Carefully, you lifted a hand, tracing the bridge of his nose with the barest touch of your fingertip. Down over the strong curve of his brow, along the delicate line of his cheeks, admiring the faint freckles decorating his skin.

“So cute,” you breathed, the words slipping out before you could catch them.

You let your fingers wander over his jawline, brushing along the soft curve of his neck, lingering where his pulse beat steadily beneath your touch. “I missed you so much yesterday,” you murmured softly, barely above a whisper. “You’re so mean for leaving me alone like that…” Your lips brushed against his temple as you sighed, “You better make it up to me today, you know.”

Sliding your hand through his hair, you marveled at how impossibly soft it was, tangling your fingers gently in the strands, tugging lightly as though you could tether him to you with nothing but touch. “I just…don’t want to let you go,” you admitted, pressing your forehead briefly to his temple.

Your gaze dropped to his mouth — soft, parted slightly in sleep — and before you could stop yourself, you let your finger trail lightly along the curve of his lower lip, tracing it like it was a map you wanted to memorize.

In the next instant, his hand closed gently but firmly around your wrist. Your breath caught as violet eyes blinked open, clear and focused despite the drowsy hour. Without a word, he brought your hand to his mouth and pressed a featherlight kiss to your fingertips, lips warm against your skin.

“Watchin’ me sleep, pips?” His voice was low and a little rough with sleep, but the amused curve of his lips gave him away. He brushed another kiss to your fingertips before smirking faintly. “Couldn’t keep your hands to yourself, hm?”

Heat rushed to your cheeks, and you ducked your head against his chest. “I can’t help it…” you whispered, embarrassed but too earnest to deny it.

That earned you a soft chuckle, the kind that made his whole chest move beneath you. He pressed his lips to the crown of your head, lingering there for a moment as if to seal the words away.

“Annnd… I heard you talking to me,” he added suddenly, voice low and teasing.

Your eyes went wide. “I–I was not! I mean…maybe a little…” you stammered, cheeks flaming.

He grinned, violet eyes sparkling. “I’m evil, huh? You were muttering about missin’ me, how mean I am…all that. You sure have a lot to say when you think I’m sleepin’, pips.”

“I meant what I said!” you shot back, fingers pinching his cheek lightly, trying to look stern but failing miserably.

Caleb’s lips curved into a soft laugh as he gazed down at you, eyes warm and teasing. You noticed the way his expression softened, the hint of amusement and affection dancing in his features. “If you had a tail right now,” you murmured, grinning, “it’d be wagging like crazy.”

His blush was subtle but undeniable, and he let out a low chuckle. “Hush,” he murmured.

Then, without warning, Caleb shifted. He slipped his arm free from around your waist and sat up, swinging his long legs over the edge of the bed. The cool morning air rushed in where his warmth had been, making you jolt upright in panic.

Before he could stand, you scrambled after him, throwing your arms around his shoulders from behind. You leaned your cheek against his broad back, clinging with all the strength you had. “Nooo, don’t leave me,” you whined, voice muffled against his shirt.

Caleb tipped his head back with a quiet laugh, shoulders shaking beneath your hold. “Pips… I’m just going to brush my teeth.”

You only squeezed tighter, burying your face into the curve of his neck like a child refusing to be parted from their favorite toy. He tilted his head slightly, violet eyes softening at your stubbornness.

“Hopeless little thing,” he murmured, amusement thick in his voice, though his hand still came up to rest over yours, keeping you pressed close.

Caleb sighed, shoulders dropping in defeat as your arms tightened around him. “I can’t say no to my favorite little cuddlebug,” he murmured, voice thick with amusement.

You grinned against his shoulder, triumphant. “You’ve never been able to.”

He gave a quiet huff of laughter, twisting just enough to glance at you. “Spoiled,” he accused gently.

“That’s your fault,” you shot back, smiling into his shirt.

The two of you laughed together, the sound soft in the quiet morning. Caleb let himself sink back against the pillows, tugging you into his chest as though you belonged nowhere else. You happily sprawled over him, nuzzling close before pressing featherlight kisses along the plane of his chest. The steady beat of his heart thudded beneath your lips, grounding you in a way nothing else could.

When you tilted your head up, you found his eyes already on you — violet gaze warm, almost reverent, like you were something fragile and priceless. The intensity of it made your breath catch, a hot blush rising to your cheeks.

“You really can’t get enough, can you?” His voice was soft, edged with a teasing lilt but carrying something deeper underneath.

You shook your head, smiling shyly. “No. Never.”

His lips curved as he bent to kiss you — slow, tender, the kind of kiss that promised he’d give you as much of him as you wanted. When you finally parted, you lingered close, your breath fanning over his skin.

“Can we stay like this all day?” you whispered, searching his eyes.

Caleb’s hand stroked gently up your back, pulling you even tighter into his arms. “As long as you want, pips,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to your hair. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

rafayel. ݁⋆ ۶ৎ ݁˖ . ݁

The studio was quiet, bathed in the soft, golden glow of the late afternoon sun slipping through the high windows. You moved with careful, deliberate motions, arranging everything just so. A stack of the softest blankets was draped over the couch, plumped and inviting. Your fingers lingered on the fabric, imagining him sinking into it, curling up against you.

On the small media console, you queued up your favorite movie — the one you both always ended up watching multiple times in a row — and turned the sound low so the sound wouldn’t startle him. Around the room, you placed little bowls of his favorite snacks, everything exactly how he liked it. Then you reached for the playlist you’d made together, pressing play; the soft, familiar melodies filled the studio, wrapping the space in warmth and anticipation.

You paused for a moment, leaning against the counter as your thoughts drifted. You remembered the way he’d pouted earlier in the week, that faint crease between his brows when you told him you couldn’t make it to the exhibition. How much you’d wanted to kiss that stubborn little frown right off his face.

Now, with the day finally yours, and with a little luck, you could do exactly that. The thought made your chest swell, heart skipping. You glanced at the couch again, imagining him walking in, that quiet, restrained smile tugging at his lips, and you pressing yourself into him until he could breathe nothing but you.

Your fingers brushed over the blankets once more, smoothing them as though by magic you could transmit all the longing you’d carried through the day. Both of you, you knew, were dangerously close to the same thought: you’d been apart too long, and tonight would make up for every hour.

The moment he walked through that door…you’d never want to let go.

Once the studio felt just right, you slipped quietly out, making your way to Rafayel’s bedroom. The familiar scent of him lingered faintly in the air, a mix of sea salt and something uniquely him, and it made your chest tighten in the sweetest ache. You opened his dresser drawer and reached for the bottle of his favorite perfume, pressing it lightly to your pulse points. The fragrance wrapped around you instantly, and you closed your eyes, imagining him leaning close enough to inhale it.

Your gaze fell to the sweater he’d left draped over the foot of the bed. You hesitated only a moment before slipping it over your shoulders, the soft fabric falling loosely around you. It was his, but somehow it felt like it had been made to fit you, like a warm hug waiting to be claimed. You tugged the sleeves down over your hands, letting yourself curl into it, imagining him standing in the doorway and catching sight of you like this.

A blush crept over your cheeks at the thought. You pressed your fingertips against the fabric, wishing it was his skin beneath your fingers instead.

You moved to the mirror, brushing a hand through your hair, smoothing it as best you could while sneaking small glances at yourself in his sweater. Every detail — every fold, every soft line of the fabric — made you ache to be close to him. The thought of him walking in, of finally being able to hold him, made your stomach flutter uncontrollably.

The quiet of the studio felt almost unbearable, each second stretching longer than the last, the anticipation of him returning making your chest ache with yearning you could no longer contain.

The sweater hung loosely around you, soft and comforting, and you tugged it just slightly over your hands, feeling closer to him somehow. Just as you were about to give yourself one last once-over in the mirror, your phone buzzed on the dresser.

Rafayel’s name lit up the screen. You swiped to answer, heart racing.

“Finally, cutie,” he said the moment you picked up, voice low and teasing. “This exhibition is sooo boring. Thomas won’t let me leave, and I’m stuck staring at paintings I barely care about.”

You sighed dramatically, leaning against the dresser. “Mm, I know the feeling,” you murmured, playing along. “Work’s been endless too…papers, meetings, deadlines. I barely have time to breathe.”

A soft laugh rumbled through the phone. “Mm, poor thing. You’re so busy suffering without me,” he teased, seaglass eyes sparkling in your imagination. “Sounds unfair.”

“Terribly unfair,” you agreed, feigning exhaustion. “I’ve been counting the hours until I can finally see you again.”

Raf let out a low, affectionate chuckle. “Mm…you’re evil, you know that? Always trying to make me miss you more.”

“I can’t help it,” you murmured, tugging lightly at the edge of the sweater, hiding your excitement. “I just…miss you so much.”

“And I miss you, cutie,” he replied, his voice softening though the teasing lilt never left it. “I’ll be home soon. You should just tell your boss you’ve got an emergency and sneak out early—then we’ll get home at the same time.”

You grinned, warmth rushing through you. “Bad fishie,” you murmured. “Trying to corrupt me with your tactics.”

He chuckled, low and easy, and it sent your heart tumbling. “Corrupting you? Puh-lease. I haven’t even suggested you quit and become my full-time bodyguard. I’m being extremely well-behaved.”

“Mm, sure you are,” you teased back. “Just hurry home. Maybe you’ll get lucky and I’ll actually beat you there.”

He sighed dramatically. “Don’t play with me like that, cutie. If you give me false hope, I might start crying. You won’t even know what to do with all the pearls.”

The two of you lingered in that easy rhythm for a while, trading playful remarks until a faint scolding carried through the receiver — Thomas snapping at him about “hiding in corners and scaring off clients.” You heard Rafayel laugh under his breath, the sound quick and guilty, before you both reluctantly said your goodbyes.

You padded back into the living room, sweater sleeves still tugged over your hands. The room glowed warm with low lamplight, the food laid out just right, pillows fluffed, everything neat in preparation for his return. You smoothed the throw across the couch one last time, nerves fizzing in your chest.

The faint sound of a key turning in the lock made you freeze.

The door opened, and Rafayel stepped inside, loosening his tie, brushing imaginary dust from his shoulders. His eyes lifted — and then widened the second they landed on you.

“…Cutie?” His voice was full of disbelief, then blooming into a laugh. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be at work.”

You smiled sheepishly, tugging the sweater closer around yourself. “I wanted to surprise you. I missed you too much to wait.”

He blinked, then let out a breathless laugh, dropping his tie onto the nearest chair before crossing the distance in three long strides. “You sneaky girl. I came home early to surprise you.”

You barely had time to respond before he swept you up into his arms, lifting you off your feet as he spun you once. His laughter brushed against your cheek, warm and unguarded, before he kissed you — quick, soft, then again, longer, his smile breaking against your lips.

“My fishie,” you teased when you finally pulled back, forehead resting against his, palms cupping his cheeks. “You’re so hopeless.”

“Hopeless for you, cutie,” he murmured, voice husky as he cradled your face in his hands and kissed you again.

The rest dissolved into warmth — your hands tangled in his hair, his arms wrapped tight around you, both of you laughing against each other’s mouths like you couldn’t get enough, couldn’t believe you were really here, together, at the same time, with all the missing finally soothed in the circle of his arms.

Rafayel barely let you go long enough to kick the door shut. He dropped his coat where it fell and tugged you toward the couch like a man starved, pulling you into his arms the moment he sat.

You went willingly, curling into him, arms looped around his neck, your face buried against the soft warmth of his neck. “I missed you so much, Raf,” you whispered, the words tumbling out as though you couldn’t hold them back. “I thought about you all day. I hate being away from you.”

He laughed quietly, but it cracked in the middle, betraying just how much he’d been missing you too. His arms cinched tight around your waist, and he nuzzled into your hair. “You’re not allowed to say things like that when I’m already this weak for you, cutie. Do you have any idea how close I am to never letting you out of my sight again?”

“Good,” you mumbled stubbornly, tightening your hold on him. “Don’t let me go. Ever.”

He shifted, just enough to look down at you, his eyes bright and intent. “You mean it?”

You gave the tiniest nod, pressing another kiss to the corner of his mouth, then another, and another, like you couldn’t get enough of him. He laughed against your lips, but every time you leaned in, he met you halfway, greedy for more.

“Mine,” he murmured between kisses, hands stroking up your back, anchoring you close. “All mine. You don’t know what you do to me when you cling like this, cutie.”

“And you don’t know what you do to me,” you countered, cheeks warm, though you refused to let go. You settled yourself more firmly in his lap, arms wound around him tight, practically molded to him. “You came home early and I still feel like I haven’t had enough of you. I don’t think I ever will.”

That earned you another low, helpless laugh, his forehead resting against yours as if he needed the contact as much as he needed air. “We really are hopeless, huh.”

You only smiled, brushing your nose against his. 

He kissed you again, and again, and again — both of you tangled so close neither one could tell who was clinging harder, just two hopeless, needy hearts who couldn’t get enough of being exactly where they belonged.

a/n: these 3 ignite the yearner in me i wont lie, i almost did a backflip when i got this request. thank you for your service anon i hope you enjoy <3

[soupieoopieisloopie]

This is super important! I have literal first hand experience with sb that would CONSTANTLY tell me my game was a gooner game. He and I were friends for a bit before everything came to a head but I showed him the game and ofc his first reaction was “gooner gooner gooner” and it was during the catch-22 event so i couldnt REEEEALLY defend myself but i still tried to emphasize the writing in the catch 22 event and how, while on the surface it seemed pretty lewd, it still had very good writing and storytelling. That happened ever. Single. Time. I tried talking about love and deepspace and it got to a point where i started being like ashamed to play the game, ashamed to find comfort in the characters and stuff and i stopped playing for a bit. That’s when he started pushing the boundaries of our friendship. He would pin me, he would press his boner against me, he would go through my phone, and I kept deflecting it all. Until one day I found out he was jerking off with MY THINGS while i was at work. And he had the audacity to call ME the gooner??? I confronted him and he said some shit like “well I saw what kind of Sukuna fanfics you read and I thought about that” are you daft?? Does needing my consent suddenly not matter at all? Does us being friends suddenly null the fact that my consent is needed? Does me playing a game he considered gooner suddenly negate the importance of my consent? Does me reading fanfiction made him think that was a green light? I was and am still so disgusted because that, my friends, is actual gooner behavior.

Sidestepping someone’s consent just so you can get your rocks off is dangerous and violating gooner behavior. He saw I blocked him on everything and reached out to me on Pinterest of all things to apologize and say smth along the lines of “I’m sorry I called you a gooner, it was because I was projecting.” And I mean DUH DUDE but I digress.

Safe to say I dropped him as a friend like every other person before me in his life, and I started playing love and deepspace again.

@nanamineedstherapy I fucking love you for saying the things I could never put into words.

I was looking for fics and in my search I found a dope post delving into fictional men but there are some specific parts that really fuckin spoke to me:

I would reblog the entire thing but it was too big and the parts in red are the ones that really spoke to me.

[soupieoopieisloopie]

Tears in my eyes

To never being lonely again.

[soupieoopieisloopie]

I just know Musicaljuice would be so fucking jealous of Toonjuice ASKDJHKSDAHKASJD

[soupieoopieisloopie]

I saw this on twitter and I had to draw it

Rendering his eye was really fun

[soupieoopieisloopie]

Blood warning!!

LADS art dump but it's all Zayne and Caleb. These are the only artwork i have currently since i'm in college now 😭

[soupieoopieisloopie]

18+ dirty talking with gojo

gojo loves dirty talking. holding both sides of your waist while you bounce on his cock, fucking you like a mad man. he gets off on calling you the dirtiest names. hes so mean :((. "yeah? you like how i fuck this cunt? say it. tell me you love it. tell me you love this dick." he has such a big ego, but is he wrong? you lovee getting fucked by gojo. the way his cock hits all the right places. the way he raises his hand up to your cunt and rubs circles around your clit, you feel like you're melting from the overstimulation. "satoru.. mmf fuck.. c-can't take anymoreee" he laughs everytime you try to tap out. you're finished already? well he's just getting started. "be a good girl and take it for me, yeah? look at you, squirting all over my dick. i'm going to make you feel so good baby. you're such a fucking slut." the overstimulation with his cock hitting all your spots, his fingers rubbing you in the right places, and his nasty dirty talk makes you cum on his cock so hard. he feels you clench and cums right after you. "fuckkkk you're such a good fucking girl. milk my cock baby fuckk.. mmfff... mommy.." i guess satoru gojo has more than just a dirty talk kink.

[soupieoopieisloopie]

Xavier & Caleb eat it for their own pleasure. (they aren't beating the munch allegations I'm sorry)

They will deadass stay down there for hours and not get tired. Like yes, while hearing you squeal and arch into their mouths is a hell of a bonus, its the taste for them. It's the weight of your thighs against their shoulders. The way you melt so pretty so perfect for them just by their tongue alone? It's intoxicating.

Xavier is slow with it—lazy drags of his tongue, savoring you like the sweetest candy, pulling back every now and then just to press soft, maddening kisses against your inner thighs. He’ll hum against you, low and deliberate, like he’s thinking about how to make you lose it before he actually does. Half the time, his gaze is tipped up toward your face, eyes blue eyes low, drinking in every single reaction so he can pull it out of you again later. “Mmm… that’s it, star… give me more. Let me taste you more,”

Caleb, on the other hand, is a straight up addict. It almost seems like he's trying to overstimulate you with out fast and greedy his tongue works through your folds, like he's going to die of thirst if he doesn't make you cum every 30 seconds. His hands gripping your hips- not even giving you the chance to wiggle away, tongue working you over the edge with purpose.

You can beg and whimper for him to slow down all you want, but all it earns you is a brief pause—just long enough for him to pull back, lower face slick with your arousal, pupils blown wide with lust. He’ll tilt his head, voice low and rough as he murmurs, "Why would I ever stop," his lips capturing your clit in a long suck, his cock twitching at the way you thrash and gush, "When you taste this sweet?"

® princessxmin all rights reserved. please to not alter, copy or translate my work !

[soupieoopieisloopie]

you and bsf satoru <3

your boyfriend was always jealous of satoru.

always watching you two with narrowed eyes, asking too many questions, starting fights over shit that never even happened.

“i know how guys think,” he’d spit, eyes flaring when you bent over near satoru. “there’s no way he’s not trying to fuck you.”

and you? you just laughed it off. called him paranoid. said satoru was harmless.

because you knew satoru. he didn’t even like you like that. you could be bent over in a miniskirt or ass out in lingerie and satoru would just throw a fry at your head and call you a dumbass.

except… then satoru started fucking with him.

he made it obvious. lingering stares, little smirks. grabbing your waist when he didn’t need to. checking out your ass in front of your man just to watch the show.

until his hands started resting on your hips a second too long. until he started grabbing your thighs under the table. until he stopped looking away when you changed in front of him and just… watched.

until tonight.

yeah. maybe your boyfriend had a point.

because now you’re in satoru's lap in the backseat of his car, in some shitty fast food parking lot, getting split open on nine thick inches of cock while your boyfriend’s name lights up your phone.

satoru’s the one making you moan like a whore. satoru’s the one stuffing you full of cock you swore you’d never take. satoru’s the one whose cum is leaking out of you before he’s even pulled out.

and your boyfriend? he’s still waiting at home.

“you’re so fuckin’ full of shit,” satoru huffs against your neck, laughing through his teeth as he watches your mascara run. “always telling him i’m just your friend. is this what you do with all your friends, baby?”

you try to answer, but your voice breaks on a moan as he thrusts up harder, the wet slap of your bodies echoing in the car.

“he can’t know about this,” you gasp, nails digging into his shoulders. “fuck, he’ll kill you, satoru—”

“he won’t do shit,” he laughs, dragging you down harder onto his cock, watching the creamy ring of white at the base. “motherfucker doesn’t even know how to fuck you right. if he did, you wouldn’t be here.”

your stomach twists, shame curling hot in your chest, but your cunt clenches even tighter around him. he feels it. of course he does.

“look at you,” he grins, grabbing a fistful of your hair and tugging your head back. “squeezing me like a goddamn virgin. haven’t even fucked you for ten minutes and your pussy’s already addicted to me.”

you hate how good it feels. how much you want this. how right it feels to be wrong.

“he trusts me,” you whisper, barely audible over your own moans. “he thinks i’m with you because we’re safe.”

“and now you’re getting bred in my backseat,” satoru growls, thrusting up deep and slow just to feel your walls twitch around him. “while he sits at home playing the fool. god, you’re such a dirty little slut.”

your phone buzzes again. his name. a missed call. another text.

you don’t even look.

satoru leans in close, mouth at your ear, breath hot and smug and sinful.

“go ahead. answer him,” he says in a brutally mocking tone, grabbing your hips and fucking up into you so hard the car rocks. “let him hear what his girl sounds like when she’s getting ruined by her best friend.”

you should be ashamed. you should get off. you should go home.

but instead you wrap your arms around his neck and bounce harder, chasing your second orgasm as his cum leaks out of you.

and when you finally cum again, clenching around him with a broken sob, satoru just kisses your shoulder and laughs.

“no fuckin’ way i’m giving up this pussy now.”

a/n: bsf satoru *freak sonic meme*

[soupieoopieisloopie]

I just found your works and omgggg I was giggling the whole time reading Xavier’s I loved LOVED it ssssm

STARRRRR MY LOVEEEE :D

Would love this prompt with either Caleb or Xavi (your choice!!)

a kiss stolen while brushing their teeth together—foam and giggles included.

EMMYYYYYYY thank you so much for sending in a prompt!! <33 this prompt is too cute and fits both of them so well that I did both!

routines

pairing: xavier x reader, caleb x reader (separate) wc: 820 & 738 prompt: a kiss stolen while brushing their teeth together—foam and giggles included. content: fluff, toothpaste kisses, suggestive themes (for caleb, a bit for xav)

Xavier

Mornings with Xavier were soft, languid. Beautiful moments stolen in the early morning light, tangled up and safe in his bed or yours. The weight of his body draped over yours underneath soft blankets lulls you to deeper sleep on the days when you weren't sleepily untangling yourselves to get ready for another day at the Association.

On those days, you turned off the alarm on his phone to get up first, pulling yourself to the bathroom to start the same steps you began every day with. Shower comes first, knowing well you'd both be late if he joined you, your own alarm ringing in the bedroom until Xavier eventually got up to trade places.

He fit into your routine so easily—never folding himself into a spot that didn't fit, but falling easily into step beside you, like he had always been there. Like there had always been a space waiting for him to fill it.

His clear blue eyes are drooping shut this morning, and he rubs at them as he stumbles up to the counter beside you, skin flushed and damp as he pulls his uniform on. The air is still steamy, mirror fogged up as you wipe at it.

You grab his toothbrush from his matching rinsing cup, wetting it with a bit of toothpaste before placing it into his mouth, opened by reflex for you. He hums a sleepy, thankful sound around it.

"Somebody's extra sleepy this morning," you mumble through the movements of your own toothbrush across your teeth. "And that's saying something."

Xavier hums again, blinking long and slow as he meets your gaze in the mirror.

"I was having a good dream," he answers with a long yawn that you worry may dislocate his jaw before he's brushing the other side of his teeth.

"Oh?"

You lean down, spitting out the toothpaste and filling your rinsing cup, listening to his sleepy mumbles behind you with a small smile you can never quite hold back around him.

"Mhm." The brushing of his teeth slows as he recalls the dream. "You were in it."

"Was I?"

"Mm." His voice is lower now when he hums, a deeper rumble in his chest that has you biting your lip to stop from smiling wider. "We didn't have work, so we got to sleep in. You kept kissing me, and you were so warm…"

You grin at him, pinching his cheek as the movement of his toothbrush makes it stick out, rounding his soft face in a way that makes your heart swell with adoration and cuteness aggression.

"My poor bunbun," you coo with a teasing grin. A pout grows on his lips, the handle of his toothbrush hanging from it as you continue to poke and squish his cheeks, giggling when foam from the toothpaste clings to his pout. "Whatever will he do without his morning kisses?"

You barely have time to react to the wicked glint that narrows his sleepy gaze, and you only manage to say a quick "Xavier, no" before the toothbrush slips from his mouth, and he plants a big, foamy kiss right onto your lips.

"Noooo," you laugh and cringe, jokingly pushing his face away as he dives in for more pecks across your lips.

He alternates top and bottom, leaving the minty taste lingering on them as he continues to pull laughter from you. His own giggles join yours, twinkling as bright as the happy golden glow that forms around his fluffy hair, ruffled and still sticking up from sleep.

"Alright, alright," you say, hands on his chest to gently push him away. "Enough of that. We're gonna be late if you steal any more of those, silly bun."

Xavier sighs, leaning over the sink to rinse out his mouth, and you wipe his lingering toothpaste off of yours.

When he straightens back up, he hits you with the wide, pleading blue eyes that you know damn well are the exact opposite of whatever wicked thing he's thinking, whatever plans he's concocting in that sharp mind to get more of you all to himself.

"More later?" is all Xavier ends up asking, so serenely, but you catch the twitch of a smirk on the corner of his lips when you sigh.

"If you're good," you say, unable to hide your own smirk as you wipe a bead of water away from that corner, planting a quick kiss there before dancing out of his grip. "C'mon, we'll grab breakfast on the way."

You spare one more glance back into the mirror to see the lovesick smile that curls over his lips, the soft, dazed look of admiration in his eyes when they meet yours in the reflection.

Like he still couldn't believe how much your lives had intertwined. Like you were the most precious thing that had ever happened to him; something he's been waiting for for a long, long time.

Caleb

Nightly routines with Caleb were like second nature.

Growing up together, you'd shared in everything: sodas, popsicles, cartoon time. Getting ready for school and for bed were no different.

Even if sharing the only small bathroom near your rooms in the old home became a lot more crowded, and a lot less pleasant as you both got into your teenage years. Trying to deal with a pimple that had appeared overnight before Caleb came bursting in to throw on that awful generic deodorant in the morning was certainly an experience, one you weren't keen to ever recreate.

But gone were the days of fighting for the bathroom, elbows thrown as you crowded together in front of the mirror, shoves and annoyed remarks exchanged to get a turn at the sink.

Now you live in a new home; one you had built together, just for the two of you. You settle into each other's side, not so much sharing your own space as it felt like you had both created this one together. No longer two separate entities, but a singular universe you existed in as one.

The only exception to this new content state of life was when he did this.

Standing at the counter with nothing but a towel slung low across his waist, those prominent veins on full display before they disappeared into the white fluffy fabric, beads of water still dripping down pink-tinged skin. You swallow thickly at the condensation that clings across his broad back when he leans over the sink to wet his toothbrush.

"C'mon, pips," he calls to you without even looking back, only sending you a little smirk in the mirror's reflection just to see you huff at his teasing. "Don't be shy."

"I'm not shy," you argue by reflex, immediately elbowing your way in next to him, reminiscent of the old days and drawing a laugh from his chest. His broad, wet, filled out chest. "You're distracting."

"Oh really?" He sticks his toothbrush into one side of his mouth, grinning around it as you busy yourself with grabbing your own. "Is that why you're starin' at me so much?"

"I'm not staring!"

"Riiight."

Another elbow is thrown in his direction for good measure, and he laughs again before you settle into one another.

You lean into each other by habit, and his hand finds the small of your back, brushing up under your pajama shirt to run callused fingers over the sensitive skin there. No ulterior motive, not seeking anything other than the familiar, comforting feel of you after a long day with the Fleet.

He subconsciously runs his other hand over the bits of stubble he hadn't had time to shave that morning, and you admire his side profile in the reflection, unashamed in your attention now that he'd already called you out on it.

The blush that grows across the apples of his cheeks when he feels the focus of your adoration is incentive enough to act on the moment.

"Caleb."

"Hm?"

You pull your toothbrush out of your mouth, tugging his out from where it hangs haphazardly from his lips before leaning up to steal a kiss from them.

The deepening red that spreads up to his ears and down to his slick chest at your unpredicted, stolen affection is delicious.

So you keep stealing minty kisses, giggling into his mouth with each surprised mumble and stutter you extract from him. The sounds slowly melt into hums, content and low as the kisses last longer, elongated like a cat's happy purr as his arm wraps around your waist and tugs you into him.

When you pull back, he exhales slow and giggles softly, nuzzling his forehead into yours.

"Still not used to you doin' that," he breathes, running a thumb across your jaw as he gazes upon you with adoration that had never changed, only deepened in meaning. Or rather, meaning that he lets you see now.

He places a kiss to the corner of your lips, wiping away a bit of foam there.

"God, you're going to ruin me, baby," he murmurs, all dark and gravely in the way that makes your heart race in excitement.

"Mm, hurry up then," you purr, swiveling around to rinse out your mouth, shooting him a smirk in the reflection as he remains frozen, drunk in love. "I'll show you just how much I can ruin you when you're done."

taglist: comment here if you want to be added! blank blogs will be blocked 🍎 Caleb fics: @reit0o @honeymoonfleur @sylvieisoffline @itsmysmut @inzayneforaj @violetpurplez @suguru-getos @k-lq20 @viviiswrr-d @sickleddreamer @shinreiplays ⭐️ Xavier fics: @santaluna @itsmysmut @onigiriinthecorner @inzayneforaj @biblioth-que @needvbunni @whimsicalcup @otome-house @wonys-won @xaviersfluffybunny @a1ienmush 💖all fics: @frostbitten-cherry @asiatic-apple @heartyluv @floatinginaer @sweetcalebb @princessofenkanomiya @lazygelpen @deepspacebunnieblue @cherryartchaos @kireeen @stargirlygirl @draftbeerbibi @pastelsweaters-and-bubble-t @slovesyouuu @ineffabl-y @grlyeetswrld @toelady @asiaticapple @aenishas @sylusgworl @lamogliedizayne @plasticcardholder @colonelkaboom @plzdonutpercieveme @syncaleb @dailydoseofanimeawesome @wooasecret @glitterykingdomangel @meofary @rchltruly @calistaxoxo24

[soupieoopieisloopie]

You can't tell me these men aren't desperate in trying to put a baby in you

And of course Xavier would duke it out with the baby to fight for your attention

[soupieoopieisloopie]

sylus who lets you do whatever you want when you go down on him,, he doesn’t thrust his cock to the back of ur throat, doesn’t grip ur hair and force you to choke on him

he’s so fucking elated that you’re giving him anything at all that he just threads his fingers in ur hair and caresses ur scalp and cheeks while you suck him off. he’s just groaning and shaking his head in disbelief that this is really happening, occasionally praising you with, “yes. that feels so good, kitten” and “you take me so well.”

especially when you DO end up taking him further back into your throat, his eyes genuinely start to cross, his chin goes slack, and a fucked our smile pulls up the corners of his lips as u take him deeper n deeper. it’s so warm and wet and the back of ur throat is so tight he has to gather ur hair in a ponytail to grip, just to have something to keep him grounded

lots of deep gravely, “uh-huh”’s snd “ohhhhhh..”’s fall from his pretty throat as you take him deep, trying so hard not to choke on him

he WILL however, taunt u a little, saying things like,, “you can go deeper than that.” or “is that all you can take, sweetie?” he’s trying to test ur limits without physically pressing you to, and his words are more than enough for u to want to try :3

[soupieoopieisloopie]

genuinely fucked up that if i want to interact with someone online i have to say words and have a conversation instead of just mashing my face against them like a cat

[soupieoopieisloopie]

⋆˚ ✿ ˖ ࣪ riding sylus senseless

when you told sylus that you wanted to be on top tonight, he wasn’t expecting you to ride him completely speechless, with only his muttering curses and his deep, breathy groans able to escape his parted lips. he didn’t know you had this in you, and he’s barely able to contain himself as your pussy sucks him in tightly and swallows his length whole.

“fuck- slow down.”, sylus grunts through heavy breaths, gripping on the plush of your hips as you continue bouncing on his cock with your head thrown back and your hands placed firmly on his shoulders, needy whines falling from your lips as he bottoms out inside of you and his sensitive tip kisses your cervix with a deep hiss.

he could hardly handle it with the way his cock throbbed agonisingly against your greedy walls and the plush of your ass colliding with his pelvis over and over. the slapping sound echo throughout the room alongside the choked moans that sylus just can’t hold back and he’s struggling to understand where this has come from.but he can barely form a thought when he’s grunting in pleasure as you continue to fuck yourself dumb on his cock, with sylus thinking you’re about to fuck him completely dumb as well.

you can’t help but moan out his name in response when you see the affect you’re having on him, ignoring his attempted plea as you sink further down on his sensitive cock. sylus feels like you’re actually trying to kill him.

he wasn’t going to last long if you kept this up, and soon finds himself harshly gripping on your hips as his needy grunts and furrowed brows follow an intense orgasm that fills you up completely, warmth filling your core, “ah- fuck..”

and despite this, you’re not slowing down. with your head thrown back and his cum leaking from your swollen pussy, you finally feel your own high with the flick of your hips.

sylus feels his brain short circuit, his cock throbbing at the sensitivity and the way your pussy continuously clenches around it while you come completely undone with needy whines escaping your lips. he just couldn’t take it, groaning out deeply when he roughly grabs your hips and lifts you off his overstimulated cock, “ah no- get off, get off.”

he looks at you bewildered, his large chest heavy with his cheeks flushed and his hair messy and unkempt. he can’t form any words when he looks at you, glowing and breathless, and all he can do is laugh in shock, pulling you closer before muttering against your ear, “damn, you’re gonna kill me one of these days, sweetheart.”

[soupieoopieisloopie]

[soupieoopieisloopie]

Ty nana

i don’t think anyone is ready for what’s under this cut (coming from me) ….

@everythingseasoning ur gonna wanna b here for this

caleb loooooves prone bone. he presses his pelvis flush against ur ass and rocks his hips back n forth, rubbing his tip sooooo deep inside you. he plants his hands on either sides of your head while u grip his wrists hard enough to leave ur nail indents in his skin.

all the while he leans over you, burying his head in your hair and the crook of your neck, his dog tag tickling ur spine with each thrust as he groans and whines into your ear with each. thrust. whispering, “like that? huh? right there? that’s the spot?” and “that feels good, doesn’t it? it feels soo good for me, too.”

his breaths are so choppy and desperate, his inhales choked and stuttered bcs he loves fucking you so much. he can’t get enough of feeling u squeeze around him while u cry out his name, begging for more. harder. deeper.

and he hits just the right spot every time, making you go dumb with pleasure just by pressing his pelvis against your ass and rolling his hips in circles. he has to bite his lip and squeeze his eyes sooooo tight when he feels you start to twitch and pulse around him as ur orgasm creeps up on you, murmuring, “i know, i know.” when u start to call his name louder in warning.

it’s not just the feeling that drives him crazy, though, it’s the knowledge that HES the one making you feel so good. HES the one about to make you cum. HES the one whose name you’re crying over and over and over on desperate whimpers before you shatter into a million pieces

and he fucks you through it, whispering praises into ur hair between pressing kisses against ur scalp, saying, “yesyesyes” between clenched teeth, nodding dispite the fact that u can’t see him, bcs again, he’s just in disbelief about how good he’s making you feel.

[soupieoopieisloopie]

EHEHEHHAHHAHHEHEHEHEHHE AHHHHHH AHHHHHHHH AHHHHHHHHHHHOH YVODDDDDDD

this is very good thank you I am insane for more

roommate!satoru x reader - 18+ mdni ٠࣪⭑

satoru knows you hear him when he cums. you know he does.

you’d been as good about it as you could be. it’s not as though he did it day in day out, just occasionally during the week.

you’d have your headphones in, volume low to pretend that you’re immersed in one of your shows. acting like you don’t already have the sound of his moans memorized like a symphony, like you can’t hear him getting himself off. trying your very hardest to just ignore him as best as you can.

usually, at least.

sometimes it gets to be too much. your soft bottom lip ends up held taut between your teeth, weak enough to let a hand slide down the front of your shorts to ease to growing ache building in your abdomen.

pretending that it isn’t your roommate’s moans alone working you up. hoping you’d time his orgasm just right so you’d finish with him.

hell, maybe you’re just as bad as satoru is, just not as loud.

he’s always ridiculously shameless about it too—deep groans, breathless curses, the wet drag of his fist as he strokes his cock. little praises like there’s someone else’s there.

“you’re so wet,” you’d once heard him murmur, voice edging off into a toe curling moan, “feels so good, baby…”

it’s like he wants you to hear him.

which you do. every. single. fucking time without fail.

once is mistake, twice is a coincidence? but 3 times? and the various instance after those?

pattern, sheer pattern. he has to know. if the knowing glint in his pale eyes when morning came meant anything, his chirpy little ‘sleep well, roomie?’ that has the tips of your ears heating because no, obviously fucking not! grade a asshole, that’s what he is. it’s already a struggle to fight the building attraction–he’s annoying as hell but a sweetheart of a friend. lends you his stuff when yours break, makes you breakfast here and there, always helping you...among other things.

but now you know exactly how he sounds when he finishes, how whiny he gets, and it just makes that fickle restraint falter even more.

aside from the whole ‘noisy jerker’ thing…he isn’t bad at all. you’d gotten lucky in the roommate lottery, you suppose. at least he handles his shit with the door closed (the singular saving grace).

tonight’s different though. you’d stepped out for a quarter of an hour at best to run to the convenience store—he’d been to one to offer up his card to restock the snacks you like in the communal cupboard, letting you go with a simple ‘get the good stuff, yeah?’

he’d been given a clear time frame so there’s 0 good reason why his door is cracked when you get back in, fucking up into his fist with gentle strokes and no urgency at all.

"fuck…just like that.”

you halt midstep, frozen—card in your hold and heart beating all the way up into your throat.

the sight is much more than you’d expected. he’s so fucking pretty.

sweats pushed low and bunched on his thighs, chest bared for the world to see. lashes settled against the paleness of his cheek, snowy strands mussed with a few sticking to his forehead. and then your eyes drop lower. to trimmed hairs that do match the drapes that lead to a lovely, pink, lengthy—

maybe…maybe you’d just wait till he finished. resign to your room for a little, keeping the card with you. he wouldn’t mind. you shouldn’t be here, you shouldn’t even be looking.

he’s jerking off and you’re just stood there. gosh, you feel like a bigger perv than he is. getting off to the sound of him is bad enough, now this?

“are you just gonna stand there?” it’s a little lazy sounding, a syrupy drag tinged with amusement. like this is normal, everyday conversation that you two have. the card slackens in your hold and your breathing ceases momentarily, mouth parting to get out an excuse, a ramble of apologies perhaps.

“you’re—oh fuck,” and he doesn’t even stop, eyes closed, head tipped to the ceiling now. as he squeezes at the head of his cock to ebb his pleasure. pearly cream smears near the pretty bulb with a light stroke, thumb stroking over a vein at the side. “fine. you’re fine! come in, ’m not busy.”

you do, you’re not sure why you do. maybe it’s your body working quicker than your mind is, one saying yes, other saying no type thing. betrayal of every good instinct you have. limbs moving before you can process his request properly. he grins like he’d known you’d do just that, floorboards giving you away.

you try not to look, you really do but it’s right there. rigid girth held in a light grip, flushed head all soft and rosy. veins pulsing proudly under flushed, shiny flesh. a cock you’ve tried (you really have) to not imagine too often. glistening with what looks like either lube or saliva (maybe both). heavy looking in his hand, the kind of pretty that causes a near physical ache in your chest and somewhere lower, dampness between your thighs only building. “you’re gonna cum to it anyway,” he murmurs, “might as well get you in here to let you see the real thing.” your eyes follow another pearlescent dribble from his head, eyes growing glossy, willing the dampness pooling between your thighs away. you’re stood there like a deer in headlights, his words registering late and you’re all hot in the face as you glance up at him, stumbling over words about needing to give him his card. “huh? I don’t even…satoru, I promise you it’s not like that at all.”

“it’s not?” and then he laughs, all deep and rich, not at all helping with your situation currently.

“you just happen to touch yourself exactly when i’m getting myself off? the walls are thin, pretty. I don’t think the pillows muffle the vibrations too well.” you wonder if there’s a quick way to dig a hole to just jump into. maybe if you fake a fainting spell, he’d drop it and you could escape? shitty fucking amazon vibrator – those reviews were all lies.

you make a strangled noise in your throat, half startled, half mortified. trying to get a word out but your lips won’t cooperate.

satoru’s eyes open, all slow and heavy like he’s already drunk on the pleasure. fuck, he loves this. loves the look on your face – all stunned, no words to say to explain yourself. “you’re not coming?” and god, he says it so breathily, you can’t help the instinctual clench of your thighs, nor the bob of your throat with a harsh swallow.

“a little watching got you all wet?” he’d noticed. of course he had. “why don’t we help each other out, hm? take your panties off? let me see how wet I got you.”

that gives you a pause, panties in question uncomfortably damp. hot in the face with..embarrassment? arousal? most definitely arousal. maybe that more than the former. your hands are shaky as they graze the soft edges of your shorts, hooking under the cottony band of your panties.

you don’t know why you’re just listening to him. walking out and pretending this didn’t happen would be just as easy as walking in had been. but you don’t – you’ve been wanting to at least touch him for ages, lying to yourself wouldn’t do either of you any favors.

the plain pale gray, turned smoky and the center falls to the floor in a heap with your shorts, pressing the card onto the closest surface with a gentle movement. his gaze drops and he groans at the clear glisten between your thighs, thumb swiping over his tip, hips twitching slightly as he slows his strokes.

“perfect. now c’mere,” he says again, softer this time. voice something warm and inviting.

you take a step, then a few more till you’re at the edge of the bed. his legs spread a little wider, chin angling down in a simple gesture. his strokes somehow get slower, lazier. teasing now, dragging out every wet sound, every twist of his wrist that has dribbles of his pre spilling over his knuckles. you sink down to your knees so you’re settled between his thighs, fingertips biting into the hardwood.

“there you are.” he croons, bringing his free hand back from gripping the sheets to brush stray hairs out your face, tipping your chin up.

“say ahh, roomie.”

๋ ࣭ ⭑๋ ࣭ ⭑ a/n: ty for reading ⭑.ᐟ minor revamp of an archived piece lol

๋ ࣭ ⭑๋ ࣭ ⭑ temp mlist: #sena's script ⏾ for all works ⭑.ᐟ