#Funny shirt drawing prompts

[scr3amingqueen]

Baki characters in funny shirts mini drawing series: Day 4

Y’all I’ve been absent due to going back to work and finishing thesis stuff so the posting will be slow but there will be content! I’ve got some Baki stuff I’m working on but here are some more funny shirt boi’s for now. I’ve got two for you guys since it’s been a hot minute.

@yandere-writer-momo Katou could never be this cool in real life let’s be honest. I think that this is how Katou sees himself because he’s way stinkier and uncoordinated in person.

[averlym]

my last two braincells fr

[wigglebox]

Suptober [Extended] - Day 26 || Scars

[rafecameronssl4t]

My girl, my business || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

gif by @drewstarkeynation

Summary: You could never brush off what Sarah did to you during your last year at Kook academy, even when you started to date her older brother.

Warnings: suggestive, swearing, Sarah is a bitch in this one soz,

Word count: 508

A/n: once again, summary is shit. Whats new 😔

MASTERLIST

Divider by @yoonitos

“Is your sister home?” you question Rafe, slipping into one of his shirts as he watches you from his bed. “Which one? I have two,” he replies, his tone practically dripping with smugness.

“You know exactly which sister I’m referring to, Rafe,” you murmur, glancing at him over your shoulder as he chuckles, hands coming up behind his head as he leans against his bed frame. “What’s your problem with Sarah anyways?”

You throw Rafe a look, wondering if he was being serious. “Do you seriously not remember what happened when the cops got called at your sisters party that happened to be at my house?” Rafe pulls a face as he thinks for a second, “Oh, shit. Yeah. You got stripped of everything at school, didn’t you?” He snickers as you hurl a shirt in his direction, which he skillfully dodges.

“Not funny dickhead.” you huff, gathering your belongings from his side of the bedside table. “C’mon babe, you know I’m joking,” he says, taking your hands and drawing you close, planting a soft kiss on your lips, causing you to melt into him.

“And no, Sarah isn’t home. She hasn’t been since Tuesday. Probably off with those fucking pogues.” Rafe murmurs, his breath warm against your lips. You scoff, shaking your head incredulously, “Kook princess, my ass.” Rafe snorts at the rivalry between you and his sister.

~

“What do you think you’re doing?” Sarah’s voice slices through the air, grating on your nerves as you click the door shut behind you. You turn to face her, meeting her intense gaze head-on.

“Isn’t it kind of obvious?” you retort, your sarcasm dripping like honey from your lips, accompanied by a subtle frown as she watches you, arm tightly crossed.

“Oh, come on, Sarah,” you scoff, trying to downplay the obviousness of the situation, though her piercing gaze makes it clear that she’s not buying it for a second.

“I was fucking your brother.” You say casually, the words landing with a blunt force that leaves Sarah slightly taken aback. The raw truth hangs in the air, mingling with the tension between you both.

Sarah’s voice trembles with fury as she starts, “Get the fuck out of my house—” but Rafe’s voice cuts through the air, commanding and firm, “Watch your fucking tongue, Sarah.” His touch sends a shiver down your spine as his hands gently snake across your waist, his gaze piercing and cold as he fixates on her.

“This isn’t any of your business, Rafe,” Sarah snaps defiantly, her eyes flashing with anger. But Rafe only chuckles, his amusement tinged with something unsettling as he glowered at her.

“It kind of is. She’s my girl so she’s my business. So why don’t you run along with your little pogue friends and leave us alone, sound good? Good,” he says, his voice dripping with authority and finality. With a firm grip, he pulls you back into his room, leaving Sarah standing there, stunned and speechless

“I could’ve handled it, y’know,” you remark, tossing your keys and phone onto his bedside table. He turns you around to face him, a playful grin spreading across his lips. “Mhmm, I knew you could. Just wanted to yell at her for fun,” he says with a smirk, prompting a chuckle from you in response.

[gloomwitchwrites]

You start sending them spicy texts a few minutes after they've left for work. Now they're home.

Bonus if you can have them say "You started it..."

Oh, anon. I am more than happy to fulfill this request. Spicy texts just before leaving work. Them walking in the door with the most feral energy. please. I am here for it. I am salivating. I am barking at the damn moon. I am running around on all fours. I am hanging from the ceiling. I love this prompt. Love love love. Thank you for sending it in!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: dirty talk, sexting, oral sex (female & male receiving), sex toys, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), creampie, vaginal fingering, knife play, spanking

Word Count: 2k

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

You sent the texts to be funny—to tease John. He’s leaving work, and you want him thinking about you the whole way home.

Instead, you have an animal on your hands. A man starving for you. It’s far more than you anticipated.

I always want you.

I wish you were here with me. Naked.

Will you fill me up when you come home?

“You started it, love. I’m just finishing it.”

John grasps the back of your neck, pulling you close. Your fingers cling to the front of his shirt, the fabric twisting in your fist. John doesn’t even glance down. He’s entirely focused on your lips.

John smells of work. Of sweat. Of manly musk. You want to breathe him in.

He holds on the back of your neck tightens slightly. “I want you on your knees. Mouth open. Understand?”

You give a little nod, and John eases his grip. His hand transitions to the front of your throat, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. When his hand drops away, John takes a step back. You obediently descend before him, softly landing on your knees.

John won’t move. He won’t take the lead. You’re to do everything.

That’s how he likes it, and that is always how you do it.

With gentle hands, you caress the front of his thighs. Beneath his pants, you feel the strength and power there. John is all corded muscle. Bulky. Thick. Already you’re salivating. Your fingers find his belt buckle. It’s easy, and it’s soon gone. Zipper comes next, and then you’re opening up the front of his pants.

The moment John is in your hand, he groans. You don’t want to tease him now. You only want to make him come. You place a kiss on the head, and then give it a little lick. A tiny bead of precum appears. You take that for yourself too.

Slowly, you run your tongue along the underside of his cock along the vein. John isn’t touching you but his fists clench and unclench. He’s restraining himself. You swallow him down, and John immediately grasps the back of your head. The grip is strong, and you’re unable to pull back.

John wants you to throat him. And you will.

Clinging to the front of his thighs, you go all in, hollowing your cheeks and taking him deep. You are messy. Eager. Showing John exactly how much you missed him today. This is your little gift to him, because after, you know he’s going to fill your pussy until you’re dripping.

You did start this.

And you’ll happily do it again.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Leaving work in ten.

Ten minutes. And then twenty to drive home. That gives you thirty minutes to fuck with your boyfriend.

Grinning, you start devising a series of texts. Kyle is good about not texting and driving. He hates people that do it, so you know he won’t answer, which makes it that much better. You’ll send him these texts, and he won’t be able to respond at all.

It’s perfect. Brilliant.

You send the first one off.

Miss you. Been thinking about you all day.

It’s sweet. Something to make Kyle smile, but that’s the whole point. Draw him in, and then make him hungry for you.

Kyle responds immediately. Miss you too, love.

Not in the car yet then. You wait a few more minutes and then send a response to him.

I’ve been horny all day. Can’t wait for you to get here.

You give it some time but Kyle does not answer. Means he’s in the car.

Kept touching myself. Couldn’t stop.

Still, nothing.

You have no idea if Kyle is reading the texts or not but you hope that he is. His phone connects to his car when he turns it on, so the texts have to be coming through. If anything, he’s listening to them, the system reading your texts aloud to him.

I’m using that new toy you bought me right now.

Lie. You haven’t tried it out yet, but you’ve been wanting to.

Thinking about you while I use it.

So wet.

There isn’t any response, but that’s no surprise. You’re on edge though, every limb tingling, heart racing with the anticipation of Kyle’s arrival.

Twenty minutes feels like an hour, but you hear the front door open from your place in the bedroom. By the time you bring your feet to the floor, Kyle is already in the doorway. His chest heaves, posture poised as if he wouldn’t find you home.

“Kyle—”

“Get out of your clothes and get your ass back on the bed,” he nearly growls, yanking off his shirt before the sentence is even out of his mouth.

“You got my texts?” you ask with a sultry purr, moving slowly to remove your clothing.

“Oh, I did, love. Sure fucking did.”

When you’re down to just your underwear, Kyle is already naked, reaching for you. You shriek playfully, and then you’re flipped onto your stomach.

“I want to see just how wet you are,” he murmurs, bringing your hips up, and spreading your legs wide, revealing your pussy to him.

He groans. “I can do better.”

Kyle’s tongue is on you, and then he’s licking, swirling his tongue up and down your pussy. You cry out, hands fisting the sheets beneath you, toes curling. Kyle kisses your clit, and then sucks it into his mouth before tonguing you to orgasm.

He draws back, and you hear the drawer in the bedside table opening. Kyle rummages around, then you hear the gentle vibration of the new toy he just bought. You swallow, and push up to look over your shoulder.

Your gazes meet and Kyle grins.

“You started it.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

You’ve been stuck in the house all day.

Simon is supposed to be off work shortly. And you want to stir up a bit of trouble.

Coming home soon?

Simon’s answer returns swiftly.

Leaving in five.

It won’t take long for Simon to get home. The man has a streak for breaking every traffic law imaginable. He just doesn’t care. At times it’s down right sexy, but other times it scares the piss out of you.

Biting your lip, you wiggle deeper into the couch, texting out a reply to Simon.

Hurry home, Simon. I need you.

I want you to use me. Your own personal plaything.

Can’t wait to feel you inside me.

You send the texts one after another. Pressing your phone to your chest, you giggle, knowing what you’ve done. Simon is going to storm through that door and make you squirm. And it’s the best fucking feeling in the world.

A few minutes later, his response comes in.

Be ready for me.

You know what that means. Simon wants you naked and on the bed, presented to him like an offering. But you won’t do that. He needs to work for it. If he wants you naked and wanton, Simon will have to do it himself.

But all that confidence disappears when Simon barrels through the door. He is a phantom. A wraith of desire. Simon has you off the couch and over his shoulder in seconds. In the bedroom, Simon drops you on the bed.

By the time you go to sit up, Simon removes his hunting knife from his boot. The tip of the blade catches under your shirt and then it’s gone, your bare breasts on full display.

“That’s better,” he murmurs, twirling the knife end over end before closing it and dropping it onto the bedside table.

You’re just in your underwear, and Simon’s gaze is heated.

“Off,” he demands, and you comply, sliding off your underwear and tossing them aside.

Simon reaches for the front of his belt. It’s off in moments, and then he’s undoing the front of his pants. His cock springs free of its confinement, and your pussy automatically clenches at the sight. Simon grabs your ankle and pulls you to the edge of the bed, pushing your legs wide.

“Fuck. Look at that.” Simon parts the folds of your pussy with his fingers. The sound of your wetness is loud in the room. He brushes against your clit and you moan, head falling back.

And then you’re moaning for a completely different reason. Simon’s cock notches at your entrance, and he slams home to the hilt. Using his natural weight, you’re pinned, taking each brutal thrust.

You said you wanted him to use you. To be his plaything.

And he is. He’s fucking you for his own pleasure. It’s a punishment as much as it’s a reward. You fall back and take it, your breath leaving you in gasps with each thrust. Simon’s hand wraps around your throat, and then you’re being lifted off the bed, his lips nearly touching yours.

“Don’t forget, love. You started it.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

I love it when you grab my hair. When you push me up against the wall. When you take total and complete control.

You send the texts with a mischievous grin on your face. Johnny is at work—about to leave if he’s on schedule. And these texts will only stoke his blood—make him hunger for you.

It’s just a tease. A way to get what you want.

You want him to fuck you, but not slowly. And not with any sweetness. Johnny needs to come home and bend you over the nearest piece of furniture.

Every time I fantasize about us having sex, I imagine you tying me up and having your way with me.

You don’t expect Johnny to respond. He doesn’t usually text and drive. But he does, and you giggle at his reply.

Naughty girl.

Every minute twists in your stomach, making you anxious with longing. You have to stand up and pace around the coffee table to try and expel some of the excess energy. You are so focused on trying to clear your mind that when Johnny enters, you momentarily freeze, surprised at his sudden appearance.

His mouth turns upward into a knowing smile, and then you bolt. Johnny is right on your heels and there is no escape from him. Johnny has you in the air and over his shoulder is less than a minute.

You shriek, and Johnny’s large palm comes down in a hard slap against your bare ass.

“Johnny!”

He laughs, and then smacks your ass again, this time with a softer hand.

“You started it,” he says, carrying you into the bedroom.

Johnny tosses you down onto the bed, and then he’s on you, pinning you beneath him. You giggle under him as Johnny nips and kisses your throat and lips. Playfully hitting him does nothing. Johnny only grasps your wrists and pins them above your head. He transfers both wrists to one large palm, holding you in that position.

“Spread those legs for me,” he croons against your lips.

You instantly widen and Johnny shifts back. With one hand, Johnny pushes your underwear to the side. You’re already wet—already in need of him. Johnny tests with one finger and then a second. They disappear inside your pussy, and reappear glossy and slick.

“Fucking look at you, love,” he murmurs, repeating the motion until your hips buck and move with him.

Your breath hitches and Johnny removes his fingers. He brings those slick digits to your lips.

“Open.”

You comply and taste yourself.

When his fingers are clean, Johnny reaches between your bodies and undoes the front of his pants. He slides home, and then he’s fucking you relentlessly, pounding you into the bed. You take it all, restrained and moaning underneath him.

Johnny groans, his body tensing, and then he’s flooding your pussy with his cum. You’re so full, and it’s only the start.

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@enarien @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000

@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @statixx-x @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla

@sadlonelybagel @kadeeesworld @iloveslasher @sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky

@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos

@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez

@arrozyfrijoles23 @gingergirl06 @eternallyvenus @smileykiddie08 @vrb8im

[safination]

The Second Time Around

|Masterlist|

Alastor shakes his head, chucking a little. Each puff of his laughter cranes your head up and down. “Mother would strangle me if she learned what I’m doing with you,” he says. “Oh, she would go bonkers and grab my ears, telling me I was raised better than this.” “What exactly are you doing to me besides lulling me into sleep after filling my belly with the most exquisite food.” “We’re living together.” You pull away, looking at him to motion to the house. “Sweetheart, I hate to break it to you, but we’ve been living together for the past two years. Well, ten if you count our life up top,” you say with a snicker. “Living together is the least sinful thing we’ve done together!” Alastor shakes his head, pushing you up to your feet. TLDR: Alastor prides himself in being a gentleman, yet here he is now, living with his not-really wife but still his wife without rings around your fingers. It’s time he changed that.

Just a small little fic. I'm working on some requests right now, so to those who requested, I didn't forget about you, don't worry <3

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Alastor adjusts his hold, securing your body with a firm hold as he carries you on his back. The pads of his thumb go up and down the skin of your leg, and each movement lulls you deeper into him.

Strands of his hair brush your cheek when you rest your chin on his shoulder. They caress your skin every time Alastor takes a step, humming a song as he walks down the street. It’s a familiar tune.

Night-time air blows cold, even in Hell. Despite already wearing Alastor’s coat, the breeze forces you to sink deeper into his back. It’s warm—he’s warm.

The pads of your fingers draw circles on his dress-shirt as you press yourself into him. Closer…the desire to be closer never ends. It’s like a never-ending fire that consumes you with every touch. How unfair of Alastor to hold this kind of power over you.

It's funny—hilarious, even.

The same scent of detergent emanates from your clothes, but there’s this undertone in Alastor’s coat. It’s a whole mix of different scents but to you, it’s just Alastor. Nothing less and nothing more. How can the same batch of laundry produce such a different smell? 

There’s a metaphor somewhere there that Alastor can probably find. Your clothes. His clothes. The same smell of laundry detergent, but each piece holds a different whiff.

You tighten your grip on Alastor’s shoulders, steading yourself to lean back and stare at the sky.

The sudden shift of weight causes Alastor to stumble back. His leg shoots out to keep your bodies stable. Still, you lean your head back to watch the reddened sky. Clouds filter across its red canvas, prompted by the cooled winds of Hell.

“Dearest…if we fall, I will blame you.” Alastor scowls, and the faintest of static emits due to his annoyance. It’s something he’s still learning to control, and you let this offense pass…for now.

“We?” you echo, smiling into his shoulder. “Does this mean you would fall into the ground with me, my love?”

“Perhaps…,” Alastor begins, keeping his eyes ahead, “…I…I should skip a few steps and drop you right now. Oh, that would be quite the hilarious sight! Just the thing to end the night.”

A laugh escapes into the air and echoes across the dirty streets. You crash your weight forward, pressing your chest against his back.

Alastor stumbles forward, catching himself just in time to keep your bodies from falling. “I will actually drop you if you continue this childish behavior of yours.”

You settle yourself on Alastor’s back and press a small kiss on his shoulder. “My feet are starting to feel better. You don’t need to carry me,” you begin but wrap your arms around his neck, “my darling…my sweetest, sweetheart.”

“It’s you who insisted on wearing these blasted shoes. I told you to wear practical ones.” Alastor makes a face, pointing his nose into the air…but still, he presses his lips down on the skin of your arm. “I would say, ‘It paints me to tell you so’ but we both know that isn’t true.”

“Then don’t say it.”

“Dearest.”

“Yes?”

“I told you so,” Alastor says, and despite him looking away, you can practically see the smile on his face. “It doesn’t pain me to do so at all. Actually, it brings me great joy knowing I was correct.”

“I hate you.” The words are mumbled into his back.

“Now, now,” Alastor says. “We both know that’s a lie.”

“Al…I love you.”

“I know,” he tells you, pressing another kiss on your arm. “I love you.”

“That’s sweet but if you truly loved me, you would have told me we’d be dancing after dinner,” you say, banging your forehead on his back with a small huff. It’s a poor attempt to hide your shy smile. “Go on then, drop me if carrying your wife bothers you so much.”

Alastor keeps his eyes ahead as he walks, angling his head to connect with you. “That’s quite the ridiculous notion, considering we’re already home.”

You try to slip out of Alastor’s hold.

“Dearest, we’re still at the gate,” he says, shaking your body to force you to wrap around his neck tightly. “We haven’t reached the door yet—sit still.”

“Al, I can walk the rest of the way,” you tell him but still…you settle back into his hold. “The door is right there.”

Alastor keeps silent, intent on walking to the entrance of your home with you on his back.

He struts past the garden, and walks straight up the porch, landing you gently on the rocking chair. The pads of his fingers trail down your leg until they catch the soles of your shoes. Alastor slips them off your feet, revealing the red spots that mark your skin.

Alastor kneels before you, one leg propped up like a stool for your foot. Ha! It’s quite the sight to see the Radio Demon on his knees for his wife.

The pressure he uses to massage your feet brings instant relief to the buzzing of pinched nerves. His thumb glides over a particular aching spot that forces a hum of delight out your lips.

Maybe wearing the wrong shoes wasn't such a bad thing…and maybe, you should wear the wrong shoes more often.

With Alastor’s gentle attention, your feet stop aching.

Alastor takes your hand, pulling you to stand off the rocking chair. He takes the seat from you, but before you can begin to huff, Alastor pulls you on top of his lap. Your legs lean against the arm rest as you curl between his legs and into his hold, pressing deeper into his chest.

You flick the ends of his bowtie, and take the monocle resting on his face. The round glass connects to a chain. “Do you actually need this?”

“Sometimes.” Alastor rests his chin on your head.

The monocle distorts your vision as you bring it closer and farther to check the grade. “You didn’t need this when you were alive.”

“That’s because I had glasses.” Alastor snatches his monocle, and places it back on his face. “You smudge it.”

“I liked those glasses,” you say. “They were very handsome, and suited you very, very, handsomely.”

Alastor hums, rocking the chair to bring you into a lull. The breeze of the night forces you to pull his coat closer around your shoulders, eyes drooping as you settle between Alastor’s legs. This moment will pass, and soon Alastor will force you to your feet and into proper clothes then into a proper bed.

That’s later…this is now.

And right now, you’ll inhale the soft scent of sulfur from Hell’s air while chasing that precious mix of Alastor’s scent. And right now, you’ll lean into the heavy hand that soothes your back, grounding you into his arms.

Alastor presses a kiss on your forehead. “My dearest.”

“Hmmm?” you say, letting the lull take hold.

“Did you enjoy yourself tonight?” He brushes a palm across your head, patting the strands that stick out. “I need to know if you had fun.”

“It was the most fun I’ve had in years.”

Alastor shakes his head, chucking a little. Each puff of his laughter cranes your head up and down. “Mother would strangle me if she learned what I’m doing with you,” he says. “Oh, she would absolutely go bonkers and grab my ears, telling me that I was raised better than this.”

“What exactly are you doing to me besides lulling me into sleep after filling my belly with the most exquisite food.”

“We’re living together.”

You pull away, looking at him to motion to the house. “Sweetheart, I hate to break it to you, but we’ve been living together for the past two years. Well, ten if you count our life up top,” you say with a snicker. “Living together is the least sinful thing we’ve done together!”

Alastor shakes his head, pushing you up to your feet.

He presses a kiss on your ring finger, letting his lips linger across the skin. “I am a gentleman,” Alastor tells you, and each word brushes your skin. “My mother raised me to act with honor…yet, here I am living in our house, sharing a bed with you, all without being married.”

“Alastor, we are married,” you say. “Was tonight’s dinner not meant to celebrate our anniversary?”

“You’re forgetting that our vows ended with, ‘till death do us part’,” Alastor says, wagging his finger at you. “I died…and so did you. Death parted us, yet it also brought me to you once more.”

Alastor lowers to his knees, your hand still secured around his own.

There’s a smile on your lips that you don’t remember smiling, and the words tumble out on their own. “Yes.”

“My dear,” Alastor starts, sighing. “I haven’t even said anything. The ring isn’t even in my hands yet.”

“Okay…okay,” you say, laughing into the air. “Sorry—go on, please. I won’t interrupt you.”

“Let me finish.” Alastor reaches into his pocket, bringing out a small box. It’s just the right size to hold a ring. “Will you—”

“Yes.”

“—let me finish?”

You flash your most innocent smile. “I’m sorry. I promise to stay silent.”

“From this day on, I never wish to be parted from you,” Alastor tells you. “Death or no death. I am to be your husband, and stay in this house until eternity ends.”

You squeeze his hand. “Yes.”

“Dearest…,” Alastor says with a warning tone, but squeezes your hand back. “Will you do me the honor of re-marrying me?”

“Yes,” you say once again. “Always…I will always say yes to you.”

Alastor presses a kiss on your cheek, allowing his lips to linger for what seems like a lifetime—the same lifetime you’ll spend together once more.

The next kiss lands on your other cheek.

A kiss to the forehead.

A kiss on the edges of your lips.

Alastor runs his thumb over the soft skin of your mouth. Breaths mix together with small huffs. The intoxication of his nose trailing up your face consumes your very being.

The back of his fingers caresses your face until they reach to tuck a strand behind your ear. His touch shifts to cup your face as the pads of his thumb swipe across your cheek. It’s over…you’ve fully lost yourself into him.

His lips brush above your own, torturing you slowly.

The hold on the back of your neck brings you closer until your noses crash into one another, and your forehead presses against each other. His mouth grazes yours, but never fully connects. Inches of breath separate your kiss, and every exhale only pulls you deeper into madness.

The lids of your eyes flutter to a close when he finally kisses you. Kiss after kiss after kiss. Your arms snake around his chest, pulling him closer into a hug.

The kisses he blesses you with are slow, as if he savors each and every one. Alastor kisses you like there’s no place he would rather be than pulling flush against his body like he was carved to fit you into his space.

Alastor slips the ring around your finger.

You’ve said ‘Yes’ once before, and you’ve said ‘Yes’, this second time around. The answer will always be the same throughout any lifetime or any world.

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Tell me what you think! I quite like this short one. It's sweet and just hits the feels for me. School has been killing me. BUT DON'T WORRY I REALLY HAVEN'T FORGOTTEN ABOUT YOUR REQUESTS. THEY'RE DRAFTED AND WILL BE COMPLETED

[ppomumgranatum]

truth or dare.

also available on Ao3

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

type: one shot, you POV, house-neutral reader

word count: 6.5k

Rating: M

Warnings: use of profanities, mild sexual content, Intense make out sesh 😳, characters are in their 7th year.

Summary: Truths emerged and friendships were tested as you found yourself confronting two years' worth of suppressed feelings towards Sebastian. Drunk.

It was girls night for you, Imelda, Natty, and Poppy at the Three Broomsticks. The warmth of the crackling fire danced across the cosy interior of the Three Broomsticks as the four of you settled around the table just by it. The mood is relaxed, the air thick with the aroma of butterbeer and laughter. Shirts and ties, usually stiff and proper, now hang loosely as you let yourselves unwind, embracing the comfort of casual company.

Behind the bar, Sirona moved with practised efficiency, her long apron swaying as she poured drinks and served food with a smile. The clinking of glasses and the clatter of plates blend with the lively chatter of the patrons, creating a vibrant symphony of sound that fills the room.

She made her way over to your table not long after Imelda signalled for another round of butterbeer. If anyone was keeping count, it might have been your third glass, and the beverage had everyone feeling increasingly lighter.

The Slytherin quidditch captain suggested that they should play a game of truth or dare, knowing the game would make the night more exciting and perhaps deepen their friendship.

The rules were simple: each of you would take turns spinning a bottle to determine who would be asked the truth or dare. The chosen person would then have to decide between revealing a truth or completing a dare, no matter how daring or embarrassing it might be. If anyone refuses to do so, they must chug their entire glass of butterbeer.

Imelda, always the adventurous one, volunteered to go first. With a mischievous twinkle in her eye, she spun the bottle and watched eagerly as it came to a stop, pointing straight at Poppy. Without hesitation, she immediately challenged her Hufflepuff friend, “I dare you to dance in the middle of the Tavern.”

Poppy, ever the good sport, rose to the challenge with a laugh, “Natty, I know you’re the Gryffindor, but let me show you bravery.”

With a confident smile, Poppy gracefully made her way to the centre of the bustling tavern. The eyes of the other patrons followed her every move, curious and amused by the unexpected spectacle unfolding before them. She began to dance, her movements fluid and graceful, drawing cheers and applause from the crowd. With each twirl and leap, she seemed to radiate a contagious energy, filling the room with a sense of joy and excitement.

They cheered her friend on from the table, her dare proving to be a testament to Poppy's drunken adventurous spirit and unwavering bravery.

“I can’t believe she’s actually doing it.” you laughed, feeling disbelieved that drunk Poppy is very funny.

“Go Poppy!” Imelda clapped and cheered at her tiny friend who’s twirling in the middle of strangers.

As Poppy completed her final twirl, she accidentally collided with a taller guy, and his arms instinctively encircled her petite waist to steady her, preventing any stumble.

“Oh! Sorry!” As Poppy apologised, she quickly realised the man she had bumped into was none other than Ominis.

Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but Ominis just chuckled good-naturedly, “Nice moves.”

“T-thanks.” She knew that Ominis was simply being courteous because obviously, he couldn’t have seen her doing all those moves.

“Oi! Poppy, no!” Imelda shouted from across the room, prompting the two people to turn their heads to the loud girl calling out for her “It’s girls night. Come back!”

Poppy chuckled, shaking her head at Imelda's exuberant interruption. "Looks like I'm being summoned," she remarked, casting a playful glance at Ominis before walking away from his embrace. Ominis smiled understandingly as Poppy made her way back to our table, her steps light with amusement.

Your gaze followed Ominis as he made his way back to his own table, and you found yourself locking eyes with Sebastian, who obviously came with his best friend. You were having so much fun with your girls you didn’t notice they were here. You didn’t even know that Sebastian was planning to visit the Three Broomsticks as well.

His piercing gaze held yours for a moment, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips, and you returned his smile. It felt as if your gut was twisted and turned, in the most enchanting way possible because, Merlin, that man is beautiful as hell.

Natty nudged you to get your attention back and smiled kind of teasingly but you didn’t really bother.

The night went on and the game kept on going. The dares became increasingly daring, you found yourselves caught up in the exhilarating energy of the game, revelling in the thrill of pushing each other outside of our comfort zones.

Natty spun the bottle with a flick of her wrist, the anticipation building as it whirled around before coming to a stop and finally it was finally your turn to take up on the challenge.

A playful smirk danced across Natty's lips as she posed the inevitable question, "Truth or dare?"

“Truth.” You said.

Imelda scoffed and raised her eyebrows in mock surprise at your choice, “I thought the girl who fought goblins and dark wizards to save Hogwarts would be more daring.”

Imelda's playful taunt elicited a round of chuckles from the rest of the group, but you remained unfazed, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. You knew that sometimes the most revealing truths could be just as daring as any physical challenge.

“Don’t worry, I have a good question for this one.” Natty assured, "What's the deal with you and Sebastian?"

Your heart skipped a beat at the unexpected question, but you couldn't help but smile at Natty's boldness. The other girls quickly leaned in eagerly, clearly intrigued by the topic.

You took a moment to gather your thoughts, feeling a rush of emotions swirling within you. Sebastian had been a constant presence in your life ever since you started your Hogwarts day, his friendship was a source of comfort and strength through both joyous and challenging times. But there’s all to it– friends.

It was not the first time someone threw that question at you. You understood that the close bond you shared with Sebastian might inadvertently lead others to misconstrue your relationship. It wasn't uncommon for people to mistake deep friendships for something more romantic, especially when the connection was as strong as yours and Sebastian's. While you cherished his companionship more than words could express, what you two have was purely platonic.

At least that’s what you like to convince yourself.

Although you’d be lying if you never wondered what it feels like to run your fingers through his brown hair, or how comfortable it would be to rest your head on his chest, or.. how soft his lips might feel against yours. You couldn't deny the allure of such fantasies, the temptation to explore the unknown and experience the intimacy that might lie beyond the boundaries of friendship. But as quickly as the thought had surfaced, you pushed it aside, unwilling to entertain notions that could potentially complicate your relationship with Sebastian.

So in conclusion, do you like Sebastian? Yes.

Will you admit it, even to yourself? No.

But still, you were determined to cherish the friendship you shared with him for all that it was– a source of comfort, support, and hearty companionship. This wasn’t something you’d be willing to risk losing.

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you guys, but there’s nothing going on between us.” you lifted your mug to have a sip of your butterbeer as you replied.

“And I don’t know how many times I have to tell you– you’re clearly lying.”

You chuckled at Natty's persistent teasing, her playful banter a familiar soundtrack to your conversations about Sebastian. Despite your repeated assurances, your friends seemed determined to challenge the authenticity of your claims.

With a good-natured shrug, you replied, "Believe what you want, guys, but I assure you, there's nothing romantic."

“Really?” Imelda chimed in, “You’re saying, all of those late night ‘studies’ you often share, those ‘adventures’– for two years, neither of you ever had any momentary lapse?” She pressed on as she made some air quote gestures with her fingers.

Sure, there were stolen glances, and perhaps touches. Not anything raunchy, but like when Sebastian wordlessly reached out and took your hand in his during your walk home from Hogsmeade on a chilly night to keep you comfortable.

Or other moments when Sebastian would act sweet and protective towards you, but you figure it’s all a natural thing. Like how he would come between you and the oncoming attack, shielding you from harm with his own body during your battles with dark wizards. It was merely a fleeting instance of a friend's deep-seated desire to ensure the safety of their companion, just like how you took the Cruciatus curse for him in the scriptorium.

But then again, nothing ever goes beyond any of that. No confessions nor pursuits of something romantic were ever explicitly made. Those moments always dissolved into other lingering echoes of unspoken words.

“Hey, Natty asked the question and I answered.” you stayed persistent with your statement “There is truly nothing.”

“Don’t you wish there was something, though?” Poppy innocently remarked.

Well, isn’t Poppy Sweeting just fucking delightful when she’s drunk, asking all the right fucking questions.

You hesitated, eyes shifted around your friends who were staring at you, anticipating the answer. You couldn't shake the unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach. They knew you well enough to sense what you were possibly feeling, but as friends who are supposed to be annoying to each other, they just want to hear it coming out of your mouth. The confession– the admittance of your long profound feeling towards the Slytherin boy whose longest relationship was with detention.

Taking a deep breath, you met their gaze with a forced smile, “No, Poppy. Sebastian and I have always been close, but–” You replied as you were trying to choose your next words carefully. "I know you guys want this to be something so bad but I value our friendship too much to risk anything.”

It was a half-truth, a carefully crafted response designed to conceal the true depth of your feelings. The other three shot you a look of disappointment because yet again another lie came out of your mouth.

"Anyway, why is it always about me and Sebastian?" Your frustration bubbled to the surface as you interjected, unable to bear the spotlight focused solely on your relationship with Sebastian. "What about Poppy and Ominis? Aren't they just as obvious as whatever you think is going on with me?”

With a determined edge to your voice, you redirected the conversation, shining a light on the dynamics between Poppy and Ominis. After all, they too shared a close bond that was evident to anyone paying attention. Poppy's cheeks flushed slightly as the attention turned to her.

“Hey, don’t try to change the subject, alright?” she was refusing to have their own relationship coming under the same scrutiny.

There was a momentary silence as Imelda and Natty exchanged glances, like a sudden moment of realisation dawning upon them that they also don’t know much about what’s going on with Poppy.

“So..” Natty carefully started, “Have you guys kissed yet?”

“Stop it.” Poppy insisted.

Imelda chimed in, her tone light but her question holding a curious edge. "You know what I always ponder about?" she mused, her eyes flicking between her friends. "If he's blind, do you reckon he'd still know where.. everything is?" Her hand swept in a casual arc, encompassing Poppy's figure in a playful gesture.

“Imelda Reyes!” Poppy’s eyes widened in disbelief at her friend's vulgar question. You and Natty could only let out a satisfied laugh at the remark. Imelda shrugged nonchalantly, a mischievous grin playing on her lips as she revelled in the reaction she had elicited. It was moments like these that reminded you all of the genuine bond you shared, forged through laughter, support, and the occasional inappropriate joke.

The banter continued unabated, with Imelda persistently needling the annoyed Poppy, her playful jabs met with a mixture of exasperation and reluctant amusement. Meanwhile, Natty, ever the peacemaker, interjected with lighthearted comments and gentle nudges to steer the conversation away from the edge of tension.

As you watched the amusing interactions among your friends, you realised that your glass was running empty. So you took a final chug at the remaining butterbeer and excused yourself from the lively conversation. You made your way to the bar, eager to replenish your beverage.

At the bar, you signalled Sirona for another round, patiently waiting as she bustled about, attending to the needs of other patrons. Leaning casually against the polished wood, you watched as she deftly mixed drinks and served customers.

In the midst of your wait, a man sidled up beside you. You took a glance at him and realised it was a Ravenclaw student, Andrew Larson. A charming grin played on his lips and you returned his smile. He raised his hand to catch Sirona's attention, signalling his order with a casual wave. With a quick nod and a warm smile, she acknowledged him before returning to her tasks. As Andrew turned back to you, his gaze lingering a moment longer.

“Hi." he greeted, "Haven't had the pleasure of seeing you around here lately.”

You returned his greeting with a warm smile. “Well, it’s our final year, with the N.E.W.T coming up–” She sighed, “You’re a Ravenclaw, you know the rest.” As a resident of the house that embraces learning, she figured he would be able to relate the most.

Andrew's charming grin widened at your response, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. "Well, I'm glad you’re here now." he said, his voice smooth and easygoing. "This place is always more enjoyable with good company."

Did he just.. flirt with you?

The hottie of Ravenclaw– the tall, broad shoulder, blonde, Andrew Larson was flirting with you? It was flattering, surely, but your heart wasn’t exactly there.

“Can I get you–” As he was about to offer you a drink, Sirona came with your fully filled mug of butterbeer. Andrew halted his sentence, a bit embarrassed, but made quite the quick comeback “something else from the bar? Snack, maybe? Or more drinks?”

You couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt as you noticed Andrew's flustered reaction to the unexpected arrival of your butterbeer. It was clear that he had been planning to offer to buy you a drink, only to be thwarted by Sirona's timely arrival.

"Actually, I think I'm all set for now," you replied with a grateful smile, gesturing to the mug of butterbeer in front of you. "But thank you for the offer."

“Are you sure?” He persisted.

“Yes, Andrew.” You gave him your warmest and sincere smile.

Andrew nodded understandingly, a faint blush still lingering on his cheeks as he recovered quickly from the momentary embarrassment. "Well, if you change your mind–”

“I don’t think she will, mate.” Before Andrew could finish his sentence, Sebastian's voice cut through the air, his presence suddenly dominating the scene. He leaned casually against the bar, his arm resting just behind your back. It almost felt like he was about to embrace you, his proximity drawing you in.

With Sebastian's taller frame towering over you, it felt like your face was almost nestled somewhere around the crook of his neck. Amidst the chatter of the tavern and the scent of butterbeer, you couldn't help but catch a whiff of his cologne—a captivating blend of fresh, woody, and spicy notes that seemed to envelop you in its seductive aura.

“Excuse me?” The sweet and soft look on Andrew’s face was replaced by a subtle hint of defensiveness.

“She doesn’t want anything from you, so.. run along, Larson.”

Caught between the two men, you felt a surge of unease wash over you, unsure of how to diffuse the tension that hung thick in the air. Andrew didn’t even bother to argue with Sebastian, he just excused himself and the two of you were left alone.

Your hand instinctively reached out to smack Sebastian's chest, the action fueled by a mixture of frustration and confusion. "What the fuck was that?" you demanded, your voice low but laced with an undercurrent of anger.

Sebastian flinched slightly at the unexpected gesture, his expression shifting from defensiveness to contrition. "I was just trying to protect you from that undoubtedly sleazy guy who's trying to worm his way into your clothes. You're welcome."

"What?" you exclaimed, caught off guard by Sebastian's blunt statement.

"It's Andrew Larson," Sebastian clarified.

Your face twisted into a puzzled expression as Sebastian stated the obvious, and you replied sarcastically, "Oh, pardon me, I thought it was Ominis."

Sebastian rolled his eyes in exasperation. "You know how he is."

Sure, whispers were circulating about Andrew, portraying him as a womaniser whose primary goal was to seduce as many girls as he could. But you weren't some naive ingénue who could easily be swayed by sweet words and charm. Despite feeling flattered by Andrew's attention earlier, you were offended by the implication from Sebastian, of all people, that you were incapable of protecting yourself. After all the battles you've faced and triumphed over, you knew you were more than capable of handling any advances or situations that came your way.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes in response, a mixture of annoyance and amusement bubbling within you. It was typical of Sebastian to jump to conclusions and assume the worst about others, especially when it came to your interactions with guys.

"Yeah, I know," you replied, your tone tinged with sarcasm. "Because Andrew is clearly the biggest threat to my virtue in this entire tavern."

“Merlin, did your butterbeer contain five percent alcohol and ninety-five percent sarcasm?” Sebastian let out an exasperated sigh as his frustration was evident in the way he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm just looking out for you, okay?" he muttered, his voice softer now, almost pleading.

You softened slightly at his words, "I’m sorry," you said while offering him a small smile of reassurance. "But, maybe I wanted to be swayed and flirted with by some cute guy tonight.” Those last statements came out a bit soft but Sebastian could still hear it.

Sebastian chuckled softly at your admission, his eyes softening with amusement as he took in your slightly flushed cheeks and the playful glint in your eyes. "Wow, you're really drunk, aren't you?" he teased gently, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You grinned sheepishly in response, nodding slightly. "A little bit, yeah," you admitted, feeling a surge of warmth spreading through you at his lighthearted response.

You felt a shiver run down your spine as you caught Sebastian's intense gaze locked onto yours. There was something magnetic about the way his eyes bore into yours, drawing you in with an almost hypnotic allure.

His appearance only added to the intensity of the moment. His hair was tousled in a way that made him look effortlessly handsome, his shirt untucked and his tie slightly loosened, giving him a casual yet undeniably appealing air. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, revealing the veins in his arms, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of attraction deep in your chest.

Merlin's sake, he looked so hot.

For a moment, you found yourself momentarily lost in the depths of his gaze, captivated by the raw energy that seemed to radiate from him. It was as if the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you locked in a silent exchange that spoke volumes without a single word being uttered.

"So, you girls having fun?" Sebastian asked with a casual tonel as he attempted to steer the conversation back to lighter topics.

You nodded, grateful for the change in subject. "Uh, yeah, we're just playing truth or dare," you replied, gesturing towards the table where your friends were gathered.

Sebastian's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Oh, is that why Poppy randomly started dancing then?" he asked, a hint of amusement colouring his voice.

“Yeah, something like that," You chuckled. “Anyway I think I should go back before Imelda starts screaming at me.”

Sebastian nodded in understanding, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, probably a good idea," he agreed. "I'll see you around?"

You returned his smile with a nod, feeling a sense of warmth and gratitude wash over you. "Definitely." you replied with genuine affection.

It sounded like an assurance– like a promise that you will always be around.

As you rejoined the lively group at the table, the warmth of Sebastian's presence lingered in the back of your mind. Immediately, you were greeted by a chorus of playful cheers and teasing remarks from your friends. Imelda, in particular, couldn't resist the opportunity to poke fun at your brief absence, teasing and winking suggestively in Sebastian’s direction.

You knew this would just add more fuel to the fire of assumptions your friends are already burning. Your cheeks flushed at the teasing, but you couldn't help but laugh along with them. Throughout the night, amidst the laughter and banter, you couldn't help but steal glances at Sebastian, who was seated across the room. His presence seemed to draw you in like a magnet, and no matter how hard you tried to focus on the conversation at hand, your gaze would inevitably wander back to him.

It’s getting late, and your group is getting aggressively more drunk. Everyone was so out of place, Imelda, with her usual flair for the dramatic, had climbed onto a nearby chair, belting out a tune that she had seemingly composed on the spot. Her voice echoed through the tavern, a mix of off-key notes and drunken enthusiasm that drew both cheers and laughter from the patrons.

Natty, meanwhile, had succumbed to the effects of the alcohol, her head resting on the table as she dozed off into a peaceful slumber. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of your friend, her normally lively demeanour replaced by the serene expression of someone lost in dreams.

And Poppy– oh dear, sweet, Poppy, was sitting on Ominis’ lap with her tongue down his throat. you caught Sebastian's eye, and you couldn't help but give him a sympathetic look. But to your surprise, he simply shrugged, a faint smile playing on his lips. It seemed that even he couldn't resist feeling a twinge of satisfaction at the sight of his best friend finding some unexpected romance amidst the chaos of the night.

With a chuckle, you shook your head in amusement, realising that despite the drunken antics and the questionable decisions, nights like these were what memories were made of.

Despite your best efforts to keep up, you found yourself feeling increasingly out of sync with the chaotic energy of the group. The alcohol seemed to weigh heavily on your senses, dulling your reactions and leaving you feeling disconnected from the revelry around you.

You noticed Sirona, the bartender, casting concerned glances in your direction. Her furrowed brow and subtle gestures of worry did not go unnoticed amidst the chaos of the tavern.

Finally, she approached your table, her expression a mix of concern and gentle determination. "I hate to interrupt the fun, but perhaps it's time for you all to call it a night." she said softly, her voice carrying a note of genuine care.

With a sigh of resignation, you understood that it was up to you to take charge and ensure your friends made it home safely. Despite Poppy's protests, you gently coaxed her away from Ominis' embrace, linking arms with her as you led the group out of the tavern.

As you walked, Poppy violently let go of your arm and ran to stroll by Ominis’ side, their laughter and whispered conversations filling the night air. Imelda and Natty stumbled along behind them, their steps unsteady but their spirits high as they chatted and laughed amongst themselves.

Bringing up the rear, you found yourself walking alongside Sebastian, the two of you trailing behind the rest of the group. You were stumbling a little bit so you reached out instinctively to steady yourself, grasping onto Sebastian's arm for support. Your fingers wrapped around his muscled and strong biceps, finding purchase in the solidity of his frame.

"Whoa, easy there," he chuckled, his voice warm and amused as he shifted slightly to support your weight. "Looks like someone's had a bit too much to drink."

You couldn't help but laugh at his teasing, the sound echoing through the quiet streets of Hogsmeade. "Guilty as charged." you admitted, leaning into his solid presence as you regained your balance.

You couldn't help but blush at the unexpected closeness, the warmth of his touch sending more heat to your face. You still have your arms tightly secured around him as you navigate the streets of Hogsmeade together. As you and Sebastian walked, your pace noticeably slower than the others, you watched as your friends gradually disappeared ahead of you. Imelda's infectious laughter echoed down the street, followed by the soft murmur of some other conversations.

“Hey, let’s play truth or dare.” you proposed, a mischievous twinkle in your eye as you glanced at Sebastian.

Sebastian chuckled, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, I don't know if I'm ready to share all of my secrets." he teased.

You chuckled at his remark, the alcohol still coursing through your veins lending a sense of boldness to your suggestion. "Come on, it'll be fun."

Sebastian's lips curled into a smirk, his gaze lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary. "Alright, you go first. Truth or dare?”

You paused for a moment, considering your options before finally replying, "Dare."

A mischievous grin spread across Sebastian’s face as he formulated a challenge. "I dare you to.. serenade the next person we pass on this street.”

You scoffed at the challenge, deeming it far too easy to pass up. As an older gentleman, dressed impeccably in a top hat and proper suit, approached, you seized the opportunity. Stepping boldly in front of him, you launched into a spontaneous serenade, belting out a random song from the depths of your imagination.

The man's reaction was one of sheer bewilderment, his eyes widening in disbelief as he continued walking, shooting you a perplexed glance over his shoulder. But you were undeterred by his reaction, pouring your heart and soul into the impromptu performance.

Sebastian couldn't contain his laughter, doubling over with amusement as he watched the scene unfold. With a grin, he pulled you away from the bemused gentleman before things got too out of hand and you got reported for harassment. "Alright, you lunatic," he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "That was not too shabby."

You grinned triumphantly as you kept on walking, feeling a rush of exhilaration at having completed the dare. "Hey, I aim to please." you replied, your voice filled with satisfaction.

As the two of you continued down the street, still chuckling at the absurdity of the situation.

"Okay, your turn." you said to Sebastian.

"Truth." Sebastian replied, his expression curious yet composed.

You hummed thoughtfully, considering your question carefully before finally deciding on one that would test the waters. "Do you think I'm pretty?" you asked, your voice tinged with playfulness.

Sebastian's eyebrows shot up in surprise, caught off guard by the unexpected question. He paused for a moment, his gaze searching yours before a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Of course," he replied sincerely, his voice soft yet earnest. "I think you’re beautiful."

You hummed in amusement and couldn't suppress a giggle. "I think you're beautiful, too, Sebastian Sallow." you admitted, feeling a rush of warmth at the confession. As you rested your head on his arm, a comfortable silence settled between you.

He chuckled at the sight of your sly face leaning on his arm and eyes could barely manage to stay open “You’re so drunk.”

“I told you I wanted to be swayed by a cute guy tonight.” you mumbled, your words slurred slightly from the effects of the alcohol.

"I think you've had enough swaying for one night," he teased, his voice warm and affectionate.

You let out a soft giggle in response, the alcohol making everything feel hazy and surreal. "Maybe," you conceded with a playful grin. "But it's your turn. Quick.”

“Fine. Dare me.”

“Alright,” you replied. This time, you took your time considering what dare to give him. You want to make sure that you’re optimising this opportunity. You didn’t know what had gotten into your head aside from the obvious alcohol, but spurred on by a sudden surge of courage, you somehow managed to say, “I dare you to kiss me.”

Sebastian laughed at your request, and thought you were kidding, but it quickly died down and stopped at his feet when he saw your face looking serious “Wait, you’re serious?”

You held his gaze steadily, “Yes.” Despite the sudden rush of nerves coursing through your veins, you stood your ground, determined to see this dare through. “Kiss me.”

His expression shifted from amusement to something more contemplative, like his eyes were searching yours for any hint of hesitation. But your gaze was unwavering as if urging him to finally close the distance you’ve been dreaming to perish.

Sebastian took a step closer and lifted your chin with his finger to get a better view of your lips. As he leaned in closer, you closed your eyes in anticipation of your first kiss with Sebastian, feeling the warmth of his breath against your skin. When his lips finally met yours, there was a surge of energy coursing through your entire body, sending shivers down your spine.

It was a soft and tender kiss, nothing deep, but it filled with emotion that had been kept away for two years. It was truly a moment that took your breath away. Surrounded by the quiet beauty of the night, you felt a connection between you and Sebastian that transcended words. It was as if the universe had aligned just for this moment, bringing the two of you together in perfect harmony.

He pulled away, and your gazes locked. You could tell his breathing was shallow from the nerves. The look on his eyes was something you’ve never seen before like a mixture of desire, longing, and a hint of vulnerability. You didn’t want him to stop. You wanted him to devour you– to be lost in you with passion.

In that moment, you felt a surge of boldness coursing through you, fueled by the electric connection between you and Sebastian. Without hesitation, you reached out, tangling your fingers in his hair as you pulled him closer, your lips crashing together in a fierce and hungry kiss. It was like a wildfire consuming you both, igniting a passion that burned hotter with each passing moment.

Sebastian wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer until your bodies were pressed tightly together. A soft moan escaped your lips as you felt the heat of his touch. It was as if every nerve in your body was alight with lust, and you couldn't help but respond to the intensity of the moment.

As if spurred on by the sound of your moan, Sebastian deepened the kiss, his lips moving with a hunger that matched your own. You felt his crave coursing through him, a raw and primal energy that left you breathless and wanting more.

Without hesitation, you parted your lips, inviting him to explore the depths of your mouth with his tongue. Sebastian tilted his head so he could gain better access. It was a dance of passion that's been kept away for two years and each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

It was truly magical, and sensual even. You didn’t care about the fact that the two of you were standing in the middle of the road or if someone passed by and stared, because in that moment, it truly felt like you finally owned each other. It made you think of all the sinful things you wanted him to do to you and It was as if a silent understanding passed between you, a shared desire that fueled the intensity of the kiss. Without a word, Sebastian guided you backwards until your back met the sturdy trunk of a tree by the roadside.

As his lips trailed along your jaw, ear, and down to your neck, you couldn't help but lose yourself in the sensation of his touch. Every brush of his lips against your skin sent heat to your loin. When his hand found its way to your breast, cupping and squeezing it with a firm yet gentle touch, you couldn't contain the moan that escaped your lips. Your body truly felt as if it was on fire, craving his touch with an intensity that left you breathless.

Instinctively, you lifted your leg to his side, drawing him closer and inviting him to explore further. The consuming lusts between you was fucking evident.

As Sebastian's hand explored your chest, eliciting waves of pleasure with each touch, you couldn't help but release another soft moan of pleasure “Oh.. Sebastian..”

At the call of his name, it was as if a sudden wake-up call had jolted Sebastian out of the passionate haze. He pulled away abruptly, his gaze locking with yours, his eyes filled with a mix of realisation and apprehension. In that moment, it was as if the weight of what had just transpired between you both crashed down on him like a ton of bricks.

All you could think about was the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, the realisation dawning on you that your friendship with Sebastian was officially ruined. The two of you were breathless and exhilarated. Your lips swollen and tingling with the remnants of his touch.

He took a couple of steps back away from you.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, you screamed in your head. He remained silent, his eyes locked on yours, leaving you to wonder what the fuck was going on? Was he regretting it? The uncertainty gnawed at you, and you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled over you as you tried to decipher the expression on his face. It was like trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of dread creeping in.

“Sebastian..” you whispered.

“I’m sorry.” He finally said as he looked away, “I didn’t mean to..”

“It’s okay..” You replied.

Your words echoed in the silence that followed, and you felt a pang of disappointment wash over you. It was as if reality had come crashing down, shattering the illusion of the moment you had shared together. But then, unable to resist the urge to seek reassurance, you blurted out the question that had been lingering in your mind. "Do you like me?"

Sebastian's expression softened as he looked back at you, his eyes searching yours with a depth that sent a flutter through your chest. “Of course, I do.” He replied rather softly.

“Like a friend?”

A lump formed in Sebastian’s throat, making it hard for him to swallow as nervousness crept over him. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation they were about to have. “Well, friends don’t do the things that we just did, do they?”

“Not really.” You replied. The weight of his words sobering you up almost instantly. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing the stark reality of the situation between you.

The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken emotions, each of you grappling with the implications of what had just transpired. You took a deep breath and with a shaky hand, you reached up to straighten your messy shirt and ran your fingers through your dishevelled hair, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

"Do you want it to be more than just a friend?" he finally managed to say.

You felt your heart skip a beat at his question, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. You looked into his eyes, seeing the vulnerability reflected in them, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. “Do you want it to be?”

“I asked you first.” He quickly and assertively interjected, “Do you want it to be something more?”

"Yes," you replied softly, your voice barely audible over the sound of your pounding heart. "Yes, I do."

"Then, how come you never said anything?" he asked, his tone tinged with a mixture of frustration and longing.

“How come you never said anything?”

He felt a pang of guilt at his words, realising that he had been holding back his true feelings for far too long. "How was I supposed to know?" he shot back, your voice tinged with defensiveness.

"Oh, because we've only been hanging out together every day for two years, we shared countless life and death moments, was that not enough?" you added sarcastically, the weight of your unspoken emotions finally surfacing. “Am I.. not enough?”

Sebastian's expression softened at your words, a look of understanding crossing his features. He took a step closer. "You are more than enough," he said softly and his voice was filled with sincerity. "You are everything to me."

“Everyone wonders why we aren’t together,” you echoed softly. “Well, little did they know I also wondered the same thing.” You looked up at Sebastian, meeting his gaze with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. And as you stood there, lost in each other's eyes, you could find everything you’ve ever wanted.

He took another step forward, “I want you.” and another, until he could reach out to caress your cheek, “I’ve always wanted you ever since you kicked my ass in Hecat’s class.”

You couldn't help but laugh at his response, a mixture of relief and joy bubbling up inside you. It was like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, and suddenly, everything felt right in the world. His fingers tracing the curve of your jaw with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. In that moment, all the doubts and fears that had plagued you seemed to fade away.

“I want to love you.. to feel you..” He continued, “Way more than what we just did.” He smiled, but you could tell he was a little bit nervous.

"Well, you made me wait two years," you teased gently, a playful glint in your eye. “Don’t make me wait anymore.”

Sebastian's smile widened at your response, a sense of relief washing over him as he realised that you felt the same way. In that moment, you knew that you were both ready to take the next step in your relationship, to explore the depths of your love together with open hearts and open minds.

And as you leaned in to capture his lips in a tender kiss, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement for the journey that lay ahead. With Sebastianfinally by your side, you know everything is going to be great.

[luveline]

𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

you and miguel accidentally move in together when the girls in the spider society dorms are mean to you —a ficlet featuring a reluctantly infatuated miguel and a carefree, ditzy spider-girl. pre across the spider-verse but contains spoilers. requested here. fem!reader, 1.5k

cw mature themes. mdni

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You're laying in Miguel's bed when he gets back to his dorm room. Or, just his room. He'll be living here for the foreseeable future. It took him some time to calibrate to seeing you among his things, in his bed, but worst of all without your suit —it's like seeing you naked. It catches him off guard every time. 

You look oddly quiet, though you aren't asleep. He knows that doesn't make any sense, that quiet isn't something you can see, but without your suit it's like stripping back a layer of chaos. In a pyjama pack from some Nueva York department store, you've little cartoon characters on your shorts, and a bigger one across your chest, the lilac purple background pretty against your skin. Your hand is tucked under your face, your phone in the other. You're swiping through a match three game with a small panda mascot that cheers, "Wā sāi!" every time you clear a line. 

You smile and click another button. Miguel bites back his own, letting the door close with a metallic shushing. 

"Hey," you say, without looking up. "Are you okay?" 

"Why wouldn't I be okay?"

"I thought asking that would get me a better answer than, 'how are you?'" 

"I'm fine." 

You laugh under your breath as he makes a beeline for his closet. "See," you say, like it's very funny, "what a useless question."

"How are you?" he asks.

He turns off his suit. Abruptly naked, Miguel is past caring if you see him. He wasn't shy to begin with, and it's nothing you haven't seen now. 

Finding you a room to stay in away from the mean girls in your dormitory turned to letting you stay with him until he had a chance to find one, which then turned to you sleeping in his bed because you'd already kissed, so what use was having you on a futon? Which turned to kissing in bed, which turned to other things. Peace, for once. Sweaty hours spent with his armed wrapped around your shoulders, your front, his face pressed into your neck. The hours after, your hands in his hair, your lilting murmuring against the shell of his ear. 

He didn't mean for it to happen.

He can't say he regrets it, either. Though it scares him. 

"Cariño?" he prompts, stepping into a pair of sweatpants.

"Sorry, what did you say?" you ask, setting your phone down on the bedside table. 

He can't be mad at the phone for distracting you. That's the whole reason he got it for you, purple and shiny and foldable, something he knew would draw and keep your attention when he's not around. You're having a hard time making friends, and there's not always stuff for you to do within the Society. It was a gift for himself as well as you, he wanted to know you weren't sitting alone in your room (his room) with nothing to do. 

"How are you?"

"I made you a charm for you phone," you say. 

You insisted he have a phone too so you could text him. He groaned, complained, grumbled, but it is the very best part of his day when he gets to turn on his stupid pink phone and see you've texted him a photo of the bedroom floor, one of your crafts in front of you, a socked foot and naked ankle in the corner of the picture. 

"That's not how you are," he says after he's pulled on a t-shirt. Miguel treks back into the main part of the room and sits at the bottom of the bed. He pulls your feet into his lap because nobody can tell him not to, quick to press a thumb into the arch of your foot. You're wearing fuzzy socks. "That's what you did. How are you? You didn't come and see me today, what's with that?" 

"Sorry, I made such a huge mess earlier I had to clean and it took hours and by the time I was done I thought I better shower." Your smile is magnetic. 

"It doesn't have to be spotless." 

"It's not my room. I'm not an asshole." 

Miguel's not used to this… anymore. And things are different with you than they'd been before: you know him for who he is, this version of him, the mean, short-tempered, spiky him, where Gabri and her mother had known someone else. Still him, still real, but different. His head aches whenever he remembers —and he remembers all of the time— but being with you helps that. You're not her, and you don't have to be. 

You know Miguel at his worst, and you like him anyway. It has to count for something. 

"It's not not your room," he says carefully, hand running up your leg to your knee. He strokes back down, a lazy back and forth. 

"I know I've overstayed," you say, "but that's your fault."

"That's my fault." 

Miguel pulls your legs down enough to make your head flop off of his pillow, hoping for a disgruntled grunt or a whined, "Miguel." You stay flopped on your back and don't say anything, to his displeasure. He sighs and pulls you bodily into his lap, scooping you up with little energy expelled. 

"I forget how strong you are," you say, in his lap like a princess carry, eyelashes kissing the skin under your brows as you look up at him. 

"How can you forget?" 

"I don't know, especially when you toss me around like a half full sack of flour. I think I have a bruise from your hand last night," you say, pulling your leg up across the other, knee away from him where you're in his lap to show him the underside of your thigh. Miguel tries not to blush at the memory, but the ghost of a dork at his core knows how salacious it is to have your girlfriend in your lap with her shorts pushed down, showcasing skin you bruised during a particularly rough moment. "Can you see? It feels sore." 

A mottling of wine-stain contusion in the shape of his hand indeed takes station at the base of your thigh. It's not bad. If you had better enhancements you'd have healed by now, but your particular spider wasn't anything special.

"Perdóname," he says under his breath, brushing over it lightly with his thumb. 

"It doesn't matter, don't be sorry, I was just wondering if it was really real." You let your leg drop heavily on top of his. Nothing but adoring shines in your eyes as you smile. "I don't care, Miguel."

"I didn't mean to–" 

"I know." 

He lifts his chin as you sit up in his lap. You kiss his neck, his jaw, and the skin below his ear, your smile audible as you murmur, "I liked it. I kind of like having the bruise, too. Don't feel bad." 

He'd felt the opposite of bad in the moment. "You're sure I didn't hurt you?" he asks quietly. 

He doesn't look down, can't, not until he knows. You comb your fingers through the hair at the back of his neck. "I'm sure," you say. "As if you could." 

"Oh, is that how it is?" he asks, trying hard not to laugh. 

"That's so how it is." 

He finally faces you again, pretending like he might gear up for a fight. He holds your gaze, brows set, eyes severe. "Show me the charm you made me," he demands. 

You laugh through your nose and climb out of his lap. "You're gonna love it. It looks like a jellyfish." 

He can't imagine how having a jellyfish charm hanging from his phone will go down with the girls, but he finds he doesn't mind. Having something you made with your own two hands is too special to pass up. 

“I made one for myself, too,” you say, digging through your box of beads to find the charms you made. You turn around holding both to your chest, your pride endearing.

“Yours isn't on your phone.”

You flicker with an uncharacteristic bashfulness. “Well, I only wanted to have them if we both had them, and I don't know if you’re okay with having one. It’s sort of loud.”

“If loud bothered me, you’d know by now,” he teases. He holds out his hand, gesturing when you don’t take it. “Come on, come back. Show me how to put it on my phone case.”

All his added sweetness is worth it to feel your smile as you clamber back into the space between his thighs and duck your face into his neck, hugging him quickly, arms thrown around his neck. “You’re the best,” you say quietly. 

He really doesn’t feel like it, but hearing you say it is a load off. He relaxes under your weight, thinking your shared cohabitation might be one of the best accidents he's ever had. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed!! if you did and you have the time, please think about reblogging <3

[hoshinasblade]

For real, the animator had ri have been a Hoshina loyalists. Cause no way he looks that bad. For a Narumi prompt it could be funny that he gets with someone that doesn't know him. Someone who doesn't believe he is the 1st division captain because they only see him as the "wet cat" version of himself. And we have Narumi losing his mind over the fact you don't believe him

(not sure where tumblr took my post again because i cant find it lol) the budget went to hoshina and his tight shirt and there was nothing left to animate narumi properly. anyway, this is such a cute and interesting prompt because because yes, he is losing his mind over you not believing he is the cool first division captain 😆

pairing: gen narumi x f!reader trigger warnings: narumi gen is a trigger warning himself, just super short because im not used to writing anything narumi-related yet. hopefully you don't get mad at me anon for not going exactly per the ask lol my brain is a mush right now, i'll try harder on my next fics

the rich man is here, shouted the kids from the hallway. you can hear their hurrying footsteps - excited little taps that in turn triggered your heartbeat to race as well. you shut your eyes, calming yourself down.

narumi gen is not exactly a rich man; the children in the orphanage just calls him that fondly. apparently he has been dropping by for years, way back when you weren't working as a teacher yet. the older orphans refer to him as nii-san.

narumi would bring toys snd snacks for the kids, and would spend time with them until the early evening before he has to say goodbye. last time, he played video games with everyone; he brought crayons and sketch boobs for his visit today, and within an hour, it was eerily quiet - the little girls and boys holding their pencils, drawing all sorts of things.

the youngest in your herd, a six-year old boy with a missing front tooth ran to you when he saw you by the door, showing you his drawing - a stick-man figure with a knife in its hand, and an animal beside it which you were not sure whether it's an oversized dog or a giraffe.

"it's a kaiju, and narumi nii-san is fighting it", the boy explained, and you patted him in the head. "he's a captain of his team, i'm gonna be like him when i grow up!"

you looked at narumi who is sitting on the floor, but he was already looking at you. you shifted your gaze. "this is so pretty, we should display it in the art wall", you suggested to the boy who grinned at you, clapping.

"you know that it's not a good thing to do, lying to kids, right?" the children had bid narumi goodbye just past 7pm, and although some of them cried, narumi was quick to promise he would be back next weekend. you were surprised, he used to only be here once a month.

"huh?" he responded to you with confusion. you walked him out the orphanage to the parking lot outside. "i don't know what you're talking about."

"look, i know you are trying to be nice. and i thank you for that. what you've done for these kids is more than anyone else have done for them. but telling them you're some guy who kills kaiju is wrong. and telling them they can be like you?" you scoffed.

narumi's mouth was wide open before he realized you have finished your speech. "but i am a guy who kills kaiju", he replied, his hand on his chest as if he is swearing on his life. "really, i'm not lying. i'm the captain of my team -"

"right, and you fight kaiju on the daily," you finished his sentence for him.

"yes, i am a real badass, i promise!" he exclaimed when he sensed you do not believe him in the slightest. it looks comical how he looks close to panicking over the fact that you are not buying whatever he's selling. he frowned at you, and you stared at him, the eye contact lasting for a few seconds.

maybe this guy is a con-artist and he makes his living manipulating people, you said to yourself. this would make a lot of sense considering you think he has the good looks to lure people in. narumi had flirted at you once or twice before - or you wish he was flirting and you were not just reading too much on his actions.

"you know if you meet my friends, they would tell you the truth," he suggested, his voice cheerful.

"why would i meet your friends?" you asked, equally confused.

"so they can tell you that i am the coolest captain of the anti-kaiju defense force. they would also tell you i am a good man and a dependable friend," narumi said, reciting maybe the contents of his curriculum vitae to you. is he in a job interview? you wanted to ask but didn't.

you sighed in defeat. "are your friends as exasperating as you are?" you asked in jest.

"come on, let me impress you", he told you with sincerity that is almost startling. you were not expecting him to sound so genuine, so adamant at proving himself to you.

the kids will have their dinner in a few minutes and you will be needed to help out. you gave narumi one last glance before strolling back to the orphanage. "i'm off on fridays", you said.

narumi's smile could have lighted the entire street.

[unfortunate17]

(wilmon.) Shivers run down his spine when Wille's fingers draw lines across his back.

another university!au - apologies that this isn’t the greatest, I’m currently on a train to Naples and exhausted LMAO

thank you for the prompt 💕

Shivers run down his spine when Wille's fingers draw lines across his back. Normally, Simon would be embarrassed about letting some rich boy from class he’d only talked to a handful of times press him up against a wall during the middle of a crowded party, but inhibition seems to leave him entirely when faced with Wilhelm’s warm eyes and hands.

Simon still remembers the first morning of the semester. He’d been late, blearily squeezing into a seat and trying to make sense of the syllabus already projected up front, when someone had tapped his shoulder. When Simon had looked up, it’s had been like all of his senses had come alive at once. Suddenly, he was wide awake, blinking back at deep, dark eyes and tumbling, soft-looking hair.

“Sorry,” Wilhelm had whispered to him, discreetly trying to hand him a phone. “Is this yours? I saw it fall.”

Simon had hastily checked his pockets, flushing when he came up empty handed. “Shit,” he’d cursed, “yeah, fuck. Thanks.”

And the rest, as Ayub often jokes, had been history. Slowly, as the weeks passed, Simon begins to enjoy quick hellos, the thrill of their shoulders brushing in class as he pretends to pay attention, and the sizzle of something more sparking in his chest whenever Wille meets his eyes.

All said and done, Ayub thinks he has a crush. Simon, however, vehemently disagrees. Wilhelm is smart, pretty, and funny - it’s only natural that Simon enjoys his company even if the Rolex on his wrist costs more than Simon’s entire tuition and Wille’s second cousin and brother lord over the university rowing team that Simon had tried out for last year only to be brutally cut despite being better than half the people there.

“Don’t feel too bad,” Wilhelm had tried to reassure him once. “Everyone that made it is a family friend. Erik and August can’t really cut them without it being awkward.”

“Then why do they even have try-outs?” Simon had grumbled, crossing his arms as Wille snickered beside him, his own rowing team t-shirt stretched distractingly across his shoulders.

It was always these little details that remind Simon that Wilhelm is not like him - that his family has millions upon millions of kronor, multiple summer homes - Wille had once mentioned a chateau in the south of France - and an aristocratic group of friends that look at Simon like he’s nothing more than the dirt beneath Wille’s expensive shoes.

Which is why he’s still stunned that he’s here, on a random Friday night, in the large penthouse that Wille shares with Erik and August, with people that have never spoken to him in his life.

Begrudgingly, Simon admits that maybe, just maybe, Ayub is right about that crush after all. It’s not like Simon can really deny it when Wille has him up against a kitchen wall, his mouth hot and slick as it works its way across his pulse point and down the length of his throat.

Simon gasps at the slight sting of teeth, tangling his fingers into the short hairs at the nape of Wille’s neck. He tugs weakly, trying his best to angle them back into a kiss.

Wille makes a sound of protest at the interruption, but when Simon tips his head back to wordlessly ask for a kiss, he leans in immediately, crushing their mouths together.

The sounds of the party - pounding bass and the tittering of the crowd - all fade away under the boom of Simon’s heartbeat.

“Wille,” he murmurs, relishing the feeling of Wille’s firm, warm grip tightening around his waist, “can we - ”

A gaggle of people walk by, one of them jostling them hard enough that Wille has to pull away. “Yeah,” he replies, voice delightfully breathless as he pushes his mouth to the crown of Simon’s head, “my room’s down the hall.”

Simon swallows, heat flaring in his stomach. He nods, taking Wille’s hand in his own. “Okay,” he tucks in close enough to smell Wille with every inhale, dizzy despite the lack of alcohol. “Let’s go.”

Wille kisses his forehead again before he turns, half dragging Simon out of the kitchen. Just before they reach the hallway though, he freezes, turning back to Simon with an odd expression on his face. “You want this right?” He asks, eyes searching. “With me?”

“Yeah,” Simon breathes, pressing their bodies together. It’s hard to imagine anything he wants more. “Please.”

“Okay.” Now, Wille looks a tad uncomfortable, “I just - I need to know that you’re not just doing this because you think I’m going to like - give you money.”

Simon feels like he’s been dunked headfirst into ice water. He takes a shocked step back, flinching. “What?”

“I mean like, like,” Wille squirms, “my family’s - you know who they are. And I’m supposed to be careful about the people I associate with because everyone wants - ”

Simon rips his hand away, humiliation making his face feel hot. “So you think because I’m not - I have a job, Wille. I don’t need your fucking money.”

Wille’s expression is blown wide open, his eyes rounded with horror. “That’s not how I meant it,” he insists hotly, “I just - I wanted to make sure.”

“Don’t worry,” Simon shoves his hands in his pocket, turning to blindly push his way in the direction of the door. He’d been a fool to come here in the first place. A fool to think someone like Wille would ever take someone like Simon seriously. “We’re done here anyway.”

“Simon, wait,” Wille scrambles after him, tugging at his shoulder, “please don’t leave. I didn’t mean to - ”

“You did,” Simon sneers, the beginning of mortified tears burning at his eyes, “this never would’ve - I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Forget I said anything, okay?” Wille grips him tightly, spinning him around. Simon watches as neon lights play across his lovely face. “Let’s just - come on, Simon. Please.”

And Simon wishes desperately that he could - aches to even. But his pride is burning almost as much as his face is, so he shakes his head wordlessly, resolutely forcing himself away from Wille’s intoxicating presence.

The last thing he sees before he shuts the door behind him is Erik and August coming up to each sling an arm around Wille’s neck, steering him back in the direction of the kitchen. For a moment, he irrationally hopes that Wille will shake himself free, that he’ll follow Simon out into the night and back to his house. Instead, he watches, stomach sinking, as Wille only smiles in response, leaning into Erik’s side as the crowd swallows them up.

[catcze]

HELP I JUST HAD A HILARIOUS THOUGHT- You and Wrio are about to OR are doing the diddly but in the middle of it all you keep finding adorable AF stickers along Wrio’s body (like he does on his gloves in one of his idle animations XD) and just…how would he react? XD hell how would YOU react? (I’d think it was hilarious AF)

16+ !! Suggestive content !!

*just bc of the start/premise/prompt, they don't do anything wilder than kissing against a wall lmao

okay i jsut had lunch so brain is not l;iterary brainign but oh my god ?!?! THIS IS OS FUNNY HAHAHAH

Literally 😭😭 Can you just imagine Wrio kissing you heavily, pinning you up against the wall to his office. Your legs are wrapped around hi waist, hands moving to push his coat off his shoulders and leave him in his shirt. He's just managed to shuck the coat off with barely separating from your lips—

When you break the atmosphere with a loud, full-chested laugh.

Wriothesley is startled, of course, while you giggle to yourself. "What is it?" He asks, an eyebrow raised, just as you reach over and pluck a cute, cartoony and obnoxiously glittery sticker off the shoulder of his shirt. You hold it up for him to see. It's a childish drawing of a shark of all things and... judging from the eyes, the hair and the scowl, he figures it's meant to be a sharkish rendition of him. And he knows just who left it there.

"Sigewinne," Wriothesley sighs, while you continue to giggle.

"Letmedownletmedownletmedown," you chant excitedly, rocking in his hold until he releases you, and you're looking him all over for stickers, laughing and collecting all the ones you find.

Wriothesley sighs once more when you open up his shirt and find some of them actually stuck onto his skin (how had he not noticed those before?) and vows never again to leave the door to his office unlocked while he naps. He does have to admit though, the stickers are kind of cute.

"Wrio look! Sigewinne made one of the two of us!"

Maybe it wouldn't hurt to hold on to a few of them.

[scr3amingqueen]

Baki characters in funny shirts mini drawing series: Day 1

@yandere-writer-momo hath summoned me to make some funny little doodles of Baki characters in some absolutely diabolical shirts, and how can I not immediately comply? Wifey feeds me the good content and I must give some in return. So before I work on any of the Alice in Wonderland stuff (which I will be releasing a poll about later today), why not have some fun adding silly shirts to characters we love (and ones we make fun of like Katou!)

The first one we have will be Biscuit Oliva (although I might use this shirt again on another character as well) and can I just say he’s killin it rn.

[jacksgreysays]

(Not sure if I can qualify for another prompt after the last wonderful prompt fill but here goes:

The Academy was perfectly fine with Shikamaru’s imaginary friend Shikako, until she managed to ____.

Oh dona, there are so many things that can fill in that blank. SO MANY THINGS. And, I’ll be honest, a lot of what comes to my mind range from funny to alarming. But the on that I think is the most encompassing—without being too boring—is simply “get caught.” Because that opens up so many opportunities for what else she could have been doing before she got caught in such a way that also builds a dynamic between those who are in on it (ie, the Rookie Nine, maybe even the full Konoha Twelve since Team Gai IS only just one year older) and those who aren’t (presumably the teachers of the Academy) However, in order to narrow this fic down into something writable, I should figure what Shikako is doing before she gets caught… and, maybe this is just me, but I kinda like the idea of… now maybe this is too specific… but basically, Shikamaru’s imaginary friend Shikako, aka his literal sentient eldritch horror twin sister that lives in his shadow, just straight up eating Danzo. Just. How do you get rid of something? Eat it. Because, like… okay. My brain goes something like this:

“Hm,” says Shikamaru as they hide in the treetops from Iruka-sensei.

Normally, Shikamaru is content with being out of the classroom that, outside from telling them the plan needed to ditch and stay hidden, he stays pretty quiet either cloud watching or napping.

Chouji, in his spot next to Shikamaru and equally satisfied with just being outside, is the only one to hear him. “What is it?” He asks.

That gets Kiba and Naruto to perk up, starting to get bored after their flawless escape with minimal conflict.

“Shikako says she’s hungry.”

Good friend that he is, Chouji offers some of his chips. A tendril of Shikamaru’s shadow shakily takes one, wobbling even under that weight, but Shikako is also a good friend so she eats it.

Well. She tries, anyway. Shikamaru’s shadow curls around it, mimicking a chewing motion, but it remains unchanged.

After a moment, Shikamaru reports, “Shikako says thank you, but she might need to eat something else specifically?”

Naruto, ever curious asks, “What does a shadow even eat?”

Shikamaru shrugs. “She says she’ll know it when we find it.”

Kiba, and an Akamaru squirming with eagerness, declares, “Akamaru and I are the best and finding stuff. We’ll get it in no time.”

—

Iruka-sensei finds them before they find the ambiguous “it.”

To be fair, they were searching through the refrigerator in the teacher’s lounge, and their self assigned mission had carried them through to lunch time. So really it was their own fault.

Didn’t stop Naruto, Kiba, and Akamaru from yelling and howling up a storm as Iruka-sensei grabbed the two boys by the collars of their shirts. Mizuki-sensei at least just gestured his two charges forward, trusting that Shikamaru and Chouji would cooperate since they had been caught fair and square. And plus, it was lunch time.

Distracted as they were, none of the boys noticed Shikamaru’s shadow stretch itself to connect to Mizuki-sensei’s.

Without that context, none of them made the connection when, not even a minute later, Mizuki-sensei stumbled, nearly falling, before catching himself in an uncertain stance.

“You okay?” Iruka-sensei asked, caregiving nature winning over his desire to continue lecturing the boys.

Mizuki-sensei waved him off with a strained laugh, “Ha, I just felt a little tired—midday slump, probably.”

Kiba and Naruto, sensing weakness, re-aim their efforts from complaining to making fun of Mizuki-sensei’s age. It draws his ire, never mind that he tries to seem cooler than Iruka-sensei, but he musters a woozy, half-hearted defense at best.

Shikamaru glances at his shadow, darker and deeper than it was before.

Shikako isn’t as hungry anymore.

—

A/N: And then something something Ino and Sakura spot the boys questing for Shikako’s food and they also believe in/like Shikako anyway so they try to help out, Shino gets pulled in because they end up on Aburame territory and he’s holding his smiling baby sister and his untouchable vibes are way lowered, at some point they’re like… maybe Hinata can use her cool eyes to FIND what Shikako needs (and she’s stalking Naruto anyway so we might as well actively include her) and then Sasuke kind of feels left out ALTHOUGH… I may have a separate thing for how Sasuke gets pulled in. Anyway the kids try to figure out what she’s doing—she doesn’t eat chakra, she eats life energy, but only out of people that she wants to kill anyway and the amount she eats from them is maybe based on how much she wants to kill them? (she really does almost eat Kabuto to death the first time they encounter him lol)—and they’re like… well… we also don’t like the people Shikako doesn’t like anyway? Here’s where plot maybe comes in and maybe where Sasuke gets pulled in but basically if this is pre-Uchiha Massacre then there could be a day when Itachi goes to pick up the little Uchiha members from the Academy and Shikako is just like ??? DO I want to kill and eat him??? because he hasn’t done anything (YET) so it’s just like… the rest of the kids investigating into Sasuke to investigate into Itachi which then somehow Scooby Doo style gets them to Danzo and MAYBE he’s being a creeper and visiting the Academy to recruit future ROOT agents or MAYBE the Academy building is near the Hokage’s Tower (I think???) or Shisui and Itachi are BOTH picking up the various Uchiha Academy students and Danzo tries to use the opportunity to intimidate/threaten them both “subtly” and Shikako’s just like !!!!! FEAST MODE!!!! And fully just eldritch style swallows him whole in front of some Academy teachers :) And it’s not like Shikamaru can get in trouble because he’s BEEN telling the truth about his imaginary friend Shikako the whole time. And as far as they know it LOOKS like a Nara clan technique so they’re like… well… uh… maybe we should tell the Jounin Commander about this. And Shikaku’s just like… uh… Kasuga… what the fuck… And Kasuga turns to Sembei-obaasan and also asks what the fuck… And Sembei-obaasan has to search deep deep into the Nara oral tradition for what the fuck is going on And Shikako is just in Shikamaru’s shadow, totally pleased with herself. I’m not hungry anymore :)

[thefandomthings]

Can you please do OM! Solomon with fluff prompt 9: "I love you." "Say it again." "I love you."

I loved the fic you wrote about jealous Simeon by the way!

Say it Again

Fluff prompts: "I love you." "Say it again." "I love you."

Pairing: Solomon x Gn!reader

Warnings: Fluff, teasing, established relationship, I looked up things for Solomon and it came up with the Box of Truth so that's in here.

Notes: Tysm! @eternallyanxiousandstressed, that means a lot to me, I thought I did a pretty awful job in writing him, so this makes me feel loads better! I've never really gotten into Solomon's character, game crashed when I was only about lesson 9 💀, so I apologize.

Solomon is an even bigger ass and tease than Mammon, especially when he is helping you with learning magical arts. He might tease you, but he does help you. He doesn't want anything to go wrong and you curse or injury yourself.

"MC, you flick your wrist to the left, not down." Solomon grabs your wrist and moves your hand correctly. You nod and mimic as he showed you, the wand he is having you use is rough against your palm and fingers. He is using a wand he made himself, for dramatic effect and because he is The Greatest Sorcerer. Even if he doesn't necessarily need it. (Mostly bc its funny watching things pop out from the end.)

"Can't we do something more interesting Sol?" You ask, bored out of your mind. You don't mind trying to summon a frogs, but its getting boring watching the tiny toads flop out onto the ground and then disappear into 'fairy dust'.

"What do you have in mind then?" Solomon questions, setting down his wand, leaning against the counter.

"We could try the Box of Truth again? Maybe this time we won't get stuck together?" You giggle fondly at the memory, watching a sly smile grace his lips. He pushes off the counter, walking towards you slowly. Solomon sets his slender hands under your shirt and on your hips, this thumbs drawing circles against your bare skin.

"Silly girl/boy, you don't have to trap us in a box again to tell me you love me." His voice is sultry, his satin grey eyes roaming your face, soaking in every detail like he hasn't done millions it times before.

Your face flushes, hands cradling his face. He kisses your palms lovingly, pulling you closer to him. Your hips pressed against his.

"I love you, Solomon."

He grasps your chin between forefinger and thumb, pulling your face closer to his. His lips brush over yours softly, but he doesn't give you a kiss.

"Say it again"

"I love you, Solomon."

He gives a light chuckle, his lips molding to yours. It was such a soft kiss, but heavy. Full of love, passion and desire.

"I love you too, MC"

[olderthannetfic]

Age gap discourse isn't usually my thing, but I am actually enjoying people trying to figure out if it even applies in one fandom I'm in. To TL;DR a lot of volumes of manga, a character aged while in another world, returned to his age upon getting back to Earth, lost his memories of said magical world, eventually got back to said world 15 years later, and his memories returned. So he was 10, +15 years in another world, -15 years, +15 years, and then... arguably + that same 15 we subtracted?

He's in love with a 45 year old woman and either he's 25 or he's 40 depending on how you figure it.

You'd think antis would be doing their usual thing. "Oh it's bad, it's an age gap" etc. But instead it's, "...is it an age gap? Wait, how old does he really count as?" This prompted a whole intracommunity meta discussion on if experiences and memories = age. But losing memories in real life doesn't knock years off your age. Physically he's 25 but that's over antis' debunked science about the brain developing that they cling to. Also, he lost his memories, but would he have lost his brain development from time spent in the other world? He only lost his memories due to the trauma of people not believing him, not because of magic, so it's not like the universe hit the reset button on him.

Nobody's been able to draw any conclusions. That said, we've gotten a lot of new jokes about him as a character. "His favorite song is probably Stacy's Mom", "he secret owns an I Heart MILFs shirt", etc. Even people who don't ship it do find the idea funny.

But all that said... OTNF, you've been in fandom much longer than the paltry 5 years I have. You've read sci-fi and fantasy that does things like this. What age would you personally consider this character?

--

Ooh, tricky. I think I'd consider him 25. He just did ages 10-25 twice.

The reason I'd count him this way isn't his physical body but because he did not have the experience of hitting 25 and then living another 15 years starting from how he thought and felt at 25. He's not, functionally, middle aged: he's a 20-something with weird baggage.

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

FICLET PROMPT!

New-ish boyfriends and Ed steals Stede’s t-shirt, maybe to sleep in? Maybe he just likes how it fits him? Anyway, he’s cute in it. 💖

Ooh thank you Kylie! This is such a cute prompt!

--

Let the record show: Ed Teach might've been a thief, but at least he was an honest one. And he'd honestly meant to give Stede his shirt back, he just...y'know, just kept putting it off a bit.

It had been the most picture-perfect first date Ed ever could've imagined. Ed was used to the pictures of him in full leather biker getup he put on dating apps drawing in the kind of guys who were allergic to commitment and expected Ed to be the hard-tough-bad boy type, but Stede had been interested in him based on a picture he'd added to the camera roll on complete accident. He'd fallen in love, he said, with a picture of Ed from his buddy Fang's last birthday party, smiling ear-to-ear with a pink party favor princess crown on his head and a dab of cupcake frosting on his cheek.

When Stede had invited Ed back to his place after dinner, Ed had accepted, of course - he wasn't sure he was ready for anything physical, and most of his relationships tended to fizzle out after that point anyway, but he wasn't about to risk turning Stede off. But they'd gotten caught in the rain with no umbrellas as they walked across the parking lot to Stede's apartment, Stede had lent him one of his shirts to wear, they'd had a picture-perfect night of movies and cuddles while Ed fell deeper and deeper into love with every passing second, and...

Yeah. Might've kept the shirt. Entirely, accidentally, of course.

It was an older t-shirt that Ed assumed Stede had gotten at one of the miserable work functions he'd told him all about. Stede was glad, he knew, to leave his father's company far behind, but the Bonnet Accounting t-shirt was well-worn and soft and faded and comfy. Stede was broader than Ed, so it sat on him too wide in the shoulders, giving it a deeper-looking neckline. It made Ed look small, small and safe, and he actually loved that, but the best part was that it smelled so much like Stede. Like warmth and security and lavender body wash and citrusy shampoo and Stede.

Once their relationship crossed the two-week mark and Ed had to admit to himself that he wasn't giving the shirt back, he decided that he'd keep it as a souvenir. When Stede inevitably got sick of Ed and dumped him, then he could bury his face in it and hug himself and pretend Stede was hugging him.

He already missed Stede's hugs, when he thought about that.

But the really amazing thing was that Stede wasn't showing any signs of getting fed up with Ed! They texted all day, and chatted for hours, and Stede loved the things guys usually hated, like Ed's sense of humor and his laugh and his collection of stuffed animals.

So, when Ed was feeling down with a cold near the three-week boyfriends mark and Stede offered to come over to check on him after work...Ed accepted. He honestly hadn't even consciously registered the decision to put the shirt on, he just knew that he felt bad and wanted comfort and it made him feel safe.

He opened the door, sniffly and mildlly feverish and wanting nothing more than a warm hug and some some affection - and Stede started grinning like Ed was personally responsible for hanging all the stars in the sky.

"What's funny?" Ed mumbled, waving him in.

Stede pecked a kiss on his cheek, then pressed a kiss to his forehead to check his temperature. "Nothing's funny. I was just wondering where that shirt went."

Ed froze. Blinked. Looked down.

"Would you believe," he said, "that I just happened to have an identical Bonnet Accounting t-shirt just, like, laying around?"

Stede laughed. Ed had had boyfriends break up with him over just touching their stuff before -

"I'm really sorry," he said quickly. "I didn't mean - you can have it back?"

"Oh, don't be sorry," Stede said, giving Ed a quick side-armed hug on his way to pop the container of soup he'd brought down on Ed's counter. "It looks good on you."

Ed sniffled, watching him warily. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Stede wrapped an arm around Ed's waist, holding him close. "You look really cute."

"I like that it smells like you," Ed admitted sheepishly, and Stede lit up like the fucking sun.

Stede probably excused how sniffly and teary Ed was that night as just being a bit sensitive from his cold, and Ed didn't know how to explain that he'd never known he could have a boyfriend like Stede until he found him.