#*fluff meme

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♡

Inbox me a “♡” (no peeking!) and I will randomly generate a number between 1 and 20 and write you a drabble. Mixture of unadulterated tooth-rotting fluff, potentially nfsw and “flangst” (fluffy angst) prompts!

8. Getting caught in the rain

"Must be the second day." Michael joked with a snicker, and then sneezed, shivering as he huddled closer to the trunk of the tree. He was almost completely soaked, and Miles was no better from the looks of it. Needless to say, they both looked like drowned cats - or well on their way to it. 

"T-This was a f-f-f-fucking —" Another sneeze, and a sniff. “M-Mis….Mistake.” Michael ground out, glaring out at the downpour in front of them. “K-Knew I shouldn’t have…gone hunting with you. I-It always goes to shit one w-way or another.” And seriously, was Miles some sort of magnet for bad luck when it came to water? First the guy floods his house, and now this!

"Ugh." Michael shifted a little closer to Miles out of interest of preserving heat, and shook his head free of the water that his hair had been soaking up, smirking when Miles gave him a withering look. 

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♡

Inbox me a “♡” (no peeking!) and I will randomly generate a number between 1 and 20 and write you a drabble. Mixture of unadulterated tooth-rotting fluff, potentially nfsw and “flangst” (fluffy angst) prompts!

9. Jealousy

He didn’t like it.

Michael would be the first to admit it - he was a bit of a jealous, maybe even slightly possessive person. Not in the creepy, ‘you can’t hang out with them’ type of way, but in the, ‘you dance too close to my girl at the club and there’s going to be a problem’ type of way.

Except, in this case, maybe not so much girl as it was guy. And maybe not so much guy as it was demon. 

Michael’s frown deepens when he watches the man lean in closer to Ryan, eyes narrowing and fingers tightening around the glass in his hand. Ryan isn’t his boyfriend. Ryan isn’t his — his anything, really. Other than his coworker. Michael to Ryan on the other hand…Michael flushes a little at the thought, and raises the glass to his lips, drinking down the beer with one, two deep gulps before lowering the half-empty glass to the table again. It’s stupid to feel jealous, for a lot of different reasons. Ryan isn’t his significant other. Ryan is, also, apparently, in love with Michael. And Michael pretty much kiiiiiind of turned Ryan down when he confessed to it, too.

 So it’s stupid, really, and no matter what Michael does, he’s gonna like like the asshole in this situation, but even more-so if he steps between the two men like a jealous boyfriend trying to force the other guy to back off.

It doesn’t mean Michael has to like it, though, and he’s two seconds away from throwing all caution to the wind and shoving his way in the middle of the two men at the bar when he sees the other guys gesturing towards him, already heading out the door, and Michael heaves a sigh of relief. Thank fuck.

"Hey Ryan!" He calls out loudly, a brash and confident thing, and feels smug when both Ryan and the stranger’s heads turn to look at him. Michael jerks his own towards the door. "Time to get goin’, big guy."

Michael’s eyes slide over to the man next to Ryan, and they narrow as his gaze goes dark, and threatening, and Michael refuses to break eye-contact as he tries to silently intimidate the man into submission until Ryan walks over and forces him to look away.

"C’mon," Michael grumbles, irritated. "Let’s go."

He was so fucking stupid.

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·insert heart here b/c mobile sucks dicks·

Inbox me a “♡” (no peeking!) and I will randomly generate a number between 1 and 20 and write you a drabble. Mixture of unadulterated tooth-rotting fluff, potentially nfsw and “flangst” (fluffy angst) prompts!

12. Holding hands

"You’re a wimp." Michael rolled his eyes, a sound of frustration escaping him as Gavin continued to jig his leg up and down and grow even more restless than he was already. It was, quite frankly, annoying. Michael got that Gavin was nervous but holy fuck, Michael had to stay next to the guy for the next few hours, and there wasn’t much more Michael could stand of Gavin’s nerves.

 The final straw was when Gavin started fidgeting, full on body shifts and bumping elbows and knees into Michael and Michael frowned, his eyebrows furrowing as he turned a glare to Gavin. “God dammit, Gavin! Fucking stay still!” He yelled. He couldn’t tackle Gavin or noogie him into submission, not here. There were only a few choices he could make, and one of them … Well, one of them Michael wasn’t really comfortable doing, as funny as it would be to do it. But Gavin wouldn’t fucking let up, and Michael gave in, deciding fuck it, as long as Gavin fucking stopped.

 ”Fucking —” Reaching over, Michael grabbed Gavin’s arm, throwing it over the arm seat forcibly before letting go. His fingers skimmed down Gavin’s forearm until they gripped at Gavin’s hand, and Michael rolled his eyes again, refusing to look at Gavin as he literally held his hand. "You’re a fucking baby, Gavin." 

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"Tickle war has been declared!"

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Pushing his sleeves up, a devious smirk on his face, Michael rolled his shoulders and then held his arms up, as if he were about to grapple with Gavin. "Oh, you’re fucking going down, Gavin.” He said darkly, an evil glint in his eyes as he leapt forward, fingers immediately going for Gavin’s sides.

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"Don’t move, I just got comfy." (/casually sends you one anyways yolo)

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Clenching his jaw, Michael elbowed Paul in the side, making sure not to be too harsh, because yeah, as angry of a guy as Michael was, he didn’t want to get his fucking neck ripped out, thanks. And considering Paul had the fucking jaws to do something like that? Michael was even less willing to try anything. But jostling Paul and being an overall annoyance and stubborn little shit? That, Michael could do, and he liked to do it in spades.

  Shifting his shoulders around and moving them, Michael smirked smugly to himself when he heard Paul’s teeth clack together. "Your fucking fault for putting your head on my shoulder. What the fuck do I look like? Your pillow?" With a snort, Michael slumped his shoulder and then tensed it, before slumping it again, just to keep fucking with Paul. "You wanna fucking take a nap, take it somewhere else."

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"Don’t move, I just got comfy."

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Rolling his eyes, Michael sank back into the sheets, letting Ryan tighten his hold around him. "It’s six in the evening." He pointed out, but it wasn’t reprimanding or annoyed in the slightest. Michael was just stating facts, because truth be told, he wanted to get out of bed as much as the other King did. Which was, to say, not at all. 

Instead, Michael shifted so that he faced Ryan and shifted closer to the other man, letting out a soft breath through his nose. "Pretty soon, they’re going to be calling you the Lazy King instead…” Michael murmured, his voice the tiniest bit amused as he hid a playful grin in Ryan’s shoulder. "Can’t say I mind, though." And if he could spend the rest of the night pressed close to Ryan, in a state of comfortable drowsiness and warm from the heat from the furs and Ryan’s body, Michael could care less if they started to call him that, too.

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"How do you accidentally buy sixty birthday cakes?”

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 ”Well.” Michael licked his lips before pressing them together, and he ran his hand through messy curls, covered in dirt, blood, and oil. “It’s a bit of a long story.” And a quick side-glance over to the truck full of birthday cakes would definitely show it, and raise the question of: how long of a story, and what happened? 

  "Let’s just say, circus clowns can be vengeful motherfuckers. Especially when you’ve got a beach bum and a druggie in the mix." Buying sixty birthday cakes was the only reason Michael wasn’t bleeding out in a dark alleyway somewhere.

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"You’re under arrest for being too cute. Put your hands where I can hold them." schneeun B)

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Raising his eyebrows, Michael tentatively held up his hands, tail flicking lazily behind him. His ears gave a twitch once, twice, before stilling, and a grin crept up Michael’s lips. "Under arrest for being too cute?” He gave a huff, and then a snort, and lowered his arms to cross them. “Says the one trying to play cop." He pointed out calmly, his grin turning into a smirk. "You know this could be discrimination and stereotyping, right? A guy’s a cat faunus and all of a sudden he’s cute. Talk about demeaning. Tsk, tsk, Weiss." And oh, Michael loved to push Weiss’s buttons in every way he could.