Sebastian's And Undertaker's Reaction To Their So Smacking Thier Booties

sebastian's and undertaker's reaction to their so smacking thier booties 😏

Sebastian Michaelis

All Sebastian wanted to do was to get rid of the broken pieces of the plate the jittery maid Mey-rin had clumsily dropped. But you had other plans.

The moment you saw Sebastian bent down, the most devilish thought crossed your mind. Without giving it a second thought, you immediately acted upon it.

Smack. The sound reverberated throughout the room. Sebastian remained completely motionless, shaken by your unprofessional behaviour. But it was not your fault that he looked so tempting, was it?

"(Y/n), a lady must not participate in such highly inappropriate behaviour." Sebastian's voice was finally heard, the tone scary enough to give you chills. He turned around slowly, looking at you with the most murderous glare you'd ever seen.

"I will give you one chance to explain your behaviour. Now." he scolded you, red eyes glaring into yours with clear irritation.

"S-Sorry Seb, I just couldn't hold back." you defended.

"Is that so?" Sebastian said, walking closer to you dangerously slow. With every step he took forward, you took one backwards until your back finally collided with the damned wall.

"Y-Yes?" you squeaked as he slammed his hands on either sides of your face, trapping your poor body within a cage.

"Allow me to show how much I've been holding back then, will you?"

Undertaker

Walking into the kitchen in search of a small snack, you did not find exactly what you were looking for, but it seemed like a snack of some other sort had caught your attention.

Undertaker was simply preparing tea for himself, not knowing about the disaster that was to come. It was not until he sensed you standing behind him that he turned back to look at you.

"Hello love, do you-"

he was silenced with a loud smacking sound, along with a slight but almost unnoticeable sting that erupted in the area where you had naughtily hit him. He remained silent, registering what he thought to his sweet and innocent (Y/n) had done to him.

"What was that for, dearie?" he asked, a huge grin forming on his face as he looked right at your innocent face.

"I'm sorry, I simply could not resist~" you teased, thinking that it would be harmless and that he would simply just laugh it off and let you go. Oh boy, were you wrong.

A squeal erupted from you as you felt your feet being lifted off the ground. Undertaker threw you over his shoulders and walked away from the kitchen, heading to the bedroom.

"U-Undertaker, please put me back down, I promise I won't do it again." you pleaded, but all of it was ignored.

"Too late." he laughed, throwing you on the bed and climbing on top of you. "I've already decided to get my revenge."

MC*mumbling to herself*:

well,shit!

*Overblot happens*

Mc: Should’ve burned this place down when i had the chance

MC:

Later

MC to Dire: You promised to hire a psychologist!

Dire: I did! It’s you! TA DA!

my blog would be lost if i do not repost this

o((>ω< ))o

vanitas ☆ vampire doctor

gosh i love him soo much~

just me lovin this old man lucii~

Hey if you don’t mind me asking and you still do requests for howls moving castle, may I ask for a oneshot or headcannons of calling howl a ‘pretty boy?’

pretty boy

Genre: fluff

A howl pendragon x reader

a/n: hey guys! I missed writing for howl. Thanks for the request babe, Hope you enjoy this! let's get started!

Look, we all know that howl is a dramatic bitch.

When he first heard you call him 'pretty boy' he almost passed out.

he was on his knees, sobbing in happiness.

Like you think he's pretty??

Markl gets very concerned while calcifer gagged at howl's childishness.

For the next few days, he'll only listen to you when you call him "pretty boy".

Call him by his actual name and he will straight up ignore you.

Howl who?

"howl, howl, howl," you poked at him with no avail. You sighed in defeat. Howl's been ignoring you the whole night.

You then remembered that you haven't tried one pet name yet. The sheer thought of it actually working is beginning to annoy you.

"Hey, pretty boy?"

You could've sworn could see how wide his smirk was from across the room. "yes, my love?"

I swear, he's so petty, and for what??

'pretty boy' is just his preferred nickname now.

Like yeah, you can call him anything else,

but it just feels like he'll melt into putty every time he hears 'pretty boy' slip past your lips.

And that’s all! I'm sorry if it's short! Hope you enjoyed this baby~ Requests are open so please don't be shy to leave anything in my inbox! Love you guys 💕💖❤️

General taglist (don’t be shy to comment your tumblr @ below): @tokyoghoose @macaronnv @reogou @midnightangelfox @wumboho @seiijixcia @tessabrown101

Hello! I was wondering if you could write a Headcanon of Undertaker seeing S/o past Self-Harm scars? Please and thank you!

Of course! I believe you said fluff prompts 1 & 14 before so I included those too. I hope this is what you were looking for. Also I got a tad carried away and did a story instead of headcanons, hope you don’t mind!

❗️Warnings; Obviously self harm, please don’t read if this upsets you at all. Quite angsty all the way through as well, but hurt/comfort too. ❗️

Masterlist

-

You could feel the nausea climbing up the back of your throat as you sat on one end of Undertaker’s old, comfortable sofa, pressed against the arm as if you were trying to disappear into it. You hardly even realised you were ringing your hands so viciously that your knuckles were turning white and your fingertips red, but even when you noticed, you found you couldn’t stop. You needed to tell him. It was an old part of your life by now but a part nonetheless, something he needed to know. You trusted him with it, knew he wouldn’t share such a private part of your life with another living soul, but that didn’t mean you wanted to have this conversation.

It had been a long time coming and you were tired of feeling like you were hiding something from him, though your mind tried to tell you it wasn’t hiding if he didn’t know to begin with. You couldn’t bring yourself to believe it. You took quiet calming breaths, waiting for your partner to finish the tea he was making in the kitchen and bring it inside. He would place the cups down on the weathered oak coffee table in front of you, sit down on the small sofa with enough room between you that you didn’t feel pressured or uncomfortable. Undertaker would lift up an arm with a quirky grin, and if you felt tat you wanted to cuddle with him, you would. If not, you tended to just glance away with an apology on your lips, only for the reaper to make a joke out of it before you had the chance to say sorry, drawing a laugh from your lips in spite of yourself.

You were so wrapped up in your thoughts and attempts to remain calm that you didn’t notice the man in question come in, nor did you see the sad look clouding his eyes that he kept hidden behind his bangs. He knew what your behaviour meant; he’d seen it in too many people to many times before. Too often in himself.

“Are you alright?”

Your whole body flinched at the gentle words, hands clenching together in your lap as you tried to act like you weren’t tense all over. The mortician’s voice lacked its usual, slightly maniacal qualities, instead it was lower and serious, far more calming than normal. You tried to open your mouth to say something, anything, but no words came out. You could neither pretend you were alright or admit the truth, that you weren’t, and you stayed still for so long that Undertaker put the tea down anyway. It was the subtle shift of the sofa beneath you when he sat down that finally snapped you out of it and you turned quickly towards him, searching his wall of hair for where you thought his eyes were.

“Please just hold me,” you murmured, and Undertaker wasted no time in wrapping his arms around you and pulling you towards him, cradling you against his chest. He let out a quiet sigh at how badly you were shaking against him, fingertips digging into his shoulders but he couldn’t care less.

“Why are you trembling?” He asked in reply, voice unimaginably soft. His hands ran soothing patterns up and down your back as you prepared yourself for what you were going to say, but the well-practiced words were nowhere to be found in your mind. You gave a sigh of your own before deciding to just show him. You leaned back a fraction and grabbed a portion of your long sleeve and pulled it back to your elbow, turning you unsteady wrist over to reveal silvery rows of straight scars marring your skin, reaching up your forearm. You hadn’t shown them to anyone else. The reaper’s ribs expanded quickly beneath you as he took in a sharp breath, close enough to be able to see your arm clearly even with his terrible eyesight.

“Oh sweetheart,” he muttered, arms constricting around you almost immediately as he left a kiss on top of your head, lingering there a moment as you hid the marks away again, then tucked your head down so you didn’t have to look at him. They were long healed over, but it was obvious how deeply everything was still affecting you, the state you must of been in at the time. He knew how that felt, and a familiar hollow feeling welled up in his chest at the thought that you’d had to experience it too.

“Thank you,” he whispered after a long time of silence, lips stirring your hair just a little, “for trusting me. For being brave enough to show me. I know how difficult it is to take that step love, but you did it. And I’m so proud of you.”

You couldn’t stop the tears starting to line your eyes at his heartfelt words and as the first supressed sob escaped your lips, he pulled you impossibly closer. Neither of you kept track of how long you stayed there, but at the end of it, you couldn’t help but feel just a little lighter within yourself. There was no quick cure for this and you knew it all too well, but you also knew you’d taken this first step, and that there was a road to recovery that you would be able to follow, Undertaker beside you all the way.