#fluff fluff fluffl fluff fluff fluff
Text
Drop it!
Your daughter sometimes couldn't tell the difference between what is food and what is not food.
Dad!Aemond x fem!reader
A/N: More dad Aemond shenanigans because it's too cute and I can't help myself anymore.
She had been so peaceful as a baby. Hardly ever cried, always wanted to be cuddled, always giggling and gurgling.
Now she was two.
The terrible twos were no myth.
You had laughed it off when Alicent said if she was good as a babe, she be hell when she turned two.
You should have known better.
She had learnt to walk. And walk she did. You turned your back on her for barely a moment and she was already on the other side of the castle. She had learned the word ‘no,’ and certainly enjoyed using it. Bathtime? No. Bedtime? No. Vegetables? No. Savory food of any kind? No.
Aemond, for his part, loved his daughter to bits, and would happily indulge her every need. Cake for breakfast, lunch and dinner? One big yes.
You sat him down eventually, tired of a constantly hyperactive child, and made things plain.
“Aemond, I love watching you with our daughter. I love how you love her, but please, you can’t keep letting her get away with things.”
Aemond nodded, understanding. “You are right, my love. I have indulged her too much.”
From that moment on, Aemond changed tack.
It started with: “Kepa,” she said and pointed at the vegetables on her plate. “No.”
Aemond sighed smiling. For a horrible moment, you thought he would bring out dessert.
“My little dragon,” he began, “I’m sorry. You must eat them this time and have cake later.”
“No.”
“Little dragon, please?” he begged. “For kepa?”
“NO!”
She threw her spoon at him.
“Now, little one, we do not throw cutlery at people.”
“NO!”
You sighed, putting you head in your hands. This was going well(!)
“Come now,” he said, spooning up the vegetables with his own spoon. “Open up for the flying dragon.”
To you complete disbelief, Lyra giggled. Aemond made dragon noise as the spoon came closer and closer to her mouth. And she ate it!
Finally!
Or not so finally. From then on she ate everything it sight. You or Aemond were forever telling her not to put something in her mouth.
One day, she somehow managed to get her little hands on Aemond’s favourite dagger. You were at tea with your ladies when you saw your tiny daughter with a large dagger in her hands.
“Lyra! No!” you yelled, jumping up from your seat.
And she looked at you with cheekiest grin, opened her mouth and slowly started to put the hilt of the dagger in her mouth.
“No, Lyra! Drop it!”
She giggled.
“Lyra! No! Don’t put it in your mouth. Kepa’s dagger is not a toy.”
She tried to put it further in her mouth, but just at that moment, Aemond swooped in, wrenching the dagger from her hands and picking her up in his arms.
“Lyra!” he fumed. “Don’t ever do that again!”
You daughter stopped giggling, but instead looked somewhat afraid.
Aemond saw this and sighed. “Lyra,” he said, putting her down gently. “Kepa’s dagger is not to be played with. It is not a toy. It is sharp and dangerous. The only things that should be going in your mouth are food and drink. Nothing else. Do you understand me, Lyra?”
Lyra nodded, although you weren’t completely sure she had understood.
“Now, if muna agrees, perhaps I can take you for a ride on Vhagar.”
At those words, Lyra started bouncing excitedly. She only been on Vhagar with her father once before, and when she wasn’t busy eating something she wasn’t supposed to, she was cradling her dragon egg, talking to the dragon inside (or at least, you thought she was. She still babbled in a language only she, and for some reason, Aemond could understand).
You sighed. “Alright.”
#house of the dragon#hotd fic#aemond targaryen#aemond one eye#aemond x y/n#aemond x fem!reader#dad aemond#fluff#fluff fluff#fluff fluff fluffl fluff fluff fluff#the fluffy fluff fluff#fluffy fluff fluff fluff
585 notes
·
View notes
Text
Summer Baby
Of course Steve was born on Christmas. It’s like the universe aligned perfectly for his parents to forget his existence. He tells Eddie about years of forgotten birthdays spent alone, then he starts to apologize because it’s too much, but Eddie stops him with a certain intensity that he gets sometimes.
“Well, starting right now, fuck that. When do you want your birthday to be?”
Steve chuckles half-heartedly, tries to brush it off, “What? Eddie, c’mon, it’s not a big deal, dude.”
“No, seriously. When do you want your birthday to be, Steve?”
Or, Steve’s never really had a birthday, so Eddie gives him one.
Read on Ao3
#i fluffled this up a little more for ao3 hehe#have some steve whump and steddie fluff#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#rueswriting#steddie fic rec#eddie x steve#mp#my fics#steveddie#steddie fanfiction#stranger things#steddie moodboard#steddie aesthetic
193 notes
·
View notes
Note
Can you write some dad mason where his little girl confort him after the lose 🥺? He really broke my heart
Aww love this is the sweetest request ever! 🥺 I hope I did it justice! 🤍
Spider Gwen.
Summary: When Mason comes back home after the lost final against Liverpool, his stubborn little girl is determined to make him feel better… even turning into a superhero if she needs to!
Warnings: none, this is pure fluff.
“Mummy, when is daddy coming home??” your three years old daughter asked you as she sat in your lap, playing with the rings around your fingers.
“Soon little one, he’ll be back for dinner.” you told her, smiling softly as your eyes danced on her cute facial features, “Do you miss him?”
“I do,” she nodded, frowning as she continued to speak, “I wanna give him the biggest hug ever! He looked so sad mummy, why was he so sad?”
“He’s sad because his team lost,” you stroked her chubby cheek, curling a lock of her brunette hair around your finger and placing it behind her ear, “and he thinks they lost because of him.”
“But that’s not true! It could never be his fault!” the little girl pouted; her pout matched perfectly the one her dad had on his face as you looked at him on the tv.
“You’re right, it’s not,” you assured her, “it’s not his fault baby, but he’ll feel down all the same…”
“Do you think we can cheer him up?” she asked as she looked you in the eyes, her round orbs full of hope.
“I think we can,” you nodded, “you can.”
“I do?”
“You’re his MJ remember?” you tickled her belly, as you remembered that time when Mason had his Spiderman costume on and they played around the house, acting like they were Peter Parker and his girlfriend, MJ, and leaving you the part of the monster they had to fight.
“Stop mummy!” she giggled, the little sounds resonating through all the house before she gasped, “Mummy! Do you know where daddy keeps his Spiderman costume??”
“I do, why?” you frowned, curious to know what came to your daughter’s mind.
“Can I borrow his mask?”
“Of course you can,” you nodded smiling, “but why do you want his mask?”
“Because I wanna make him smile,” she stated, your heart thumping in your chest as you felt all the love she had for Mason, “and I need to be a superhero to do that!”
“Okay, c’mon, let’s go,” you stood up from the armchair you were sitting on, bouncing your daughter higher on your hip and keeping her in your arms as you walked to Mason’s game room, “I’ll give you daddy’s mask but pay attention to it okay?”
“Okay mummy!” she said, clapping her little hands together, “Thank you mummy!”
“You’re welcome little one,” you said as you kissed her forehead, “you’ll make him so happy!”
“You think so?”
“Oh I know so!” you held her tighter just as you heard the front door open and Mason’s voice calling for you both.
“Girls I’m home…” his voice sounded so defeated your heart cracked in your chest.
You let your daughter down on her little feet, and she immediately ran towards the entryway of the house.
“Daddy!” she shouted as she hugged her father’s legs, her little hands clutching at the black material of his tracksuit.
“Hey princess, hi…” he weakly smiled at her, taking her in his arms and hugging her close to his chest, “Aw give me a hug! A big, big hug…”
“I’ll give you all the hugs and cuddles you want daddy!” she told him as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pecking his prickly cheek as she did so.
“Thank you baby, I love you so much…”
“I love you more daddy!” she whispered in his ear, resting her face in the crook of his neck.
“Hey…” he glanced at you, standing in front of them and watching their interaction.
“Hey you,” you walked to him and ran a hand through his short hair, “you hungry?”
“Not much really…” he shook his head, “I think I’ll just go lay down, I’m so tired…”
“As you wish Mase,” you nodded as you took your daughter from his arms, “I’ll make something for her to eat and then we’ll join you, okay?”
“Okay, but give me a kiss first.” he demanded as his arm went around your waist, pulling you closer and caging the brunette girl between your bodies.
“Come here…” you gave him a soft smile before your lips touched his. He needed this, he needed all the love you could give him right now, and you knew that because you felt his grip around your waist tighten as he was trying to keep you as close as possible.
“Can I have another one, princess?” he asked your daughter as he pointed to his cheek.
“Okay,” she giggled, holding his face to hers as she smooched his cheek, “but daddy your cheek prickles!”
“But how is that possible??” he looked at her with his big brown eyes, “I had it trimmed yesterday specifically for you!”
“You did??” she asked as she was surprised by her father’s words.
“Of course!” he said, leaving a feather light kiss in her hair, “How can I give my MJ the kisses she deserves if my beard prickles her??”
Mason’s question made the little girl in your arms laugh, and you knew the reason behind her reaction, you still had his Spiderman mask tucked in the back pocket of your jeans after all.
“Now go and eat your dinner,” he told her as he poked her nose with his finger, “I’ll wait for you upstairs okay?”
“Okay daddy!”
After Mason went up to your bedroom, you started cooking dinner for the little girl that was currently sitting on the sofa, playing with her father’s mask, as she waited for dinner to be ready.
She thought you were taking way too long, and she was starting to grow impatient as the only thing she wanted to do was to be with her daddy right now. So when she saw you still weren’t done, she took one last look at the red and blue piece of fabric in her hands then one back at you, and she took off to where her father was.
She silently walked up the stairs, little footsteps bringing her right in front of your bedroom door. The door was semi open, and she could see her daddy turning what looked like a medal in his hands as he was sitting on the edge of the bed. When she heard him sigh, she knew she had to do something.
“Daddy?” she called for him as she entered the room.
“Hey, shouldn’t you be eating?” Mason asked her as soon as she sat down next to him.
“Mummy’s still preparing my food,” she said, “and I wanted to be with you. You need a superhero to cheer you up! And I, as your MJ, I have the superpower to do so!”
“Aw, of course you do munchkin…” his heart was beating so fast, she was such a lovely girl and he loved her so much.
“Just, can you help me put this on?” she asked him, placing his mask in his hands, “If I want to be a superhero I’ll need to wear a mask!”
“Come here,” he giggled for the first time that night, running his fingers through her hair as she sat in his lap, before he lowered the mask on her little head, “it looks so big on you princess!” he laughed as he looked at her little hands adjusting the fabric on her face.
“I know!” she giggled as she couldn’t see a thing, “But now I'm Spider MJ!”
“Spider MJ?” he chuckled as he laid back on the bed, his hands resting on her little thighs as he did so, “You could be Spider Gwen baby!”
“Spider Gwen?” she tilted her head to the side, like she always did when she didn’t understand something, just this time she looked even more adorable as she had that enormous mask on.
“Come sit next to me,” he said, patting the space on the mattress right next to him, “I’ll show you who she is.” he told her, taking his phone in his hands and searching for pictures of Spider Gwen.
“Daddy she looks beautiful!” she gasped as soon as she saw the white and pink mask the super girl was wearing, “Her mask is pink too!”
“It is!” he nodded his head, happy to share these things with his daughter and happy to finally be able to stop thinking about the game. As he scrolled through videos and pictures of Spider Gwen, a video grabbed his attention: it was the video of Post Malone’s song ‘Sunflower’. “Do you wanna hear a song, little one? It’s the one from ‘Spiderman: Into the Spider-verse’”
“Can I hug you while we listen to that?”
“Of course sweetheart, come here.” he smiled as he patted his thighs; she sat in his lap, her little back pressed against his warm chest while his torso leaned against the headboard. His hands held his phone right in front of her, so that she could watch the video too, while her little chubby hands caressed his cheeks as she lifted them high over her head to touch his face.
“This is cute, daddy! You have such a cute voice when you sing!” she said as they listened to the song, while she heard her father sing along, “Oh look, that’s Gwen!!!” she pointed at the phone screen.
“Yeah, and that’s Miles Morales!” he pointed to the other guy that appeared in the video, “He’s the Spiderman of an alternate universe!”
“Alternate universe?” she asked as her hands never stopped stroking his cheeks.
“It’s like another world baby,” he explained as he kissed both of her hands, “another world with another Spiderman!”
“Cool!”
“Do you like this song baby?” he giggled as he saw her moving her little feet to the rhythm.
“Yeah it’s cute!”
“You’re cute,” Mason pressed a kiss to the top of her head after he removed the mask from it, “the cutest girl in the whole world!”
“Even in the alternate universe??”
“Even in the alternate universe!” he laughed as he saw you appear at the door.
“There you were,” you said, smiling at the two of them so engrossed in each other they barely noticed you, “dinner’s ready missy!”
“I’ll be back soon daddy!” she smooched his cheek before she got out of his hold and walked to you, taking your hand and walking to the kitchen with you.
Once she was done eating, you helped her brush her teeth and put her pj’s on, so that she could finally go back to her dad.
“Hi daddy!” she smiled at him as she jumped on the bed next to him.
“Hey…”
“What are you looking at??” she asked him curiously, looking at the shining object in his hands, “Is that your medal???” her eyes widened in admiration.
“It is baby,” he sighed, “it’s the medal we got for our second place…”
As if she sensed he was growing sad again, she rested her small hand on his forearm, “I like it daddy!”
“Really?” he softly smiled at her kindness.
“Really! It’s so shiny!” she said as she nodded her little head, “It’s beautiful! And I’m happy you won that!”
“But that’s not the most important one, baby,” he said, staring into her innocent irises “the golden one is, and it’s even more beautiful…”
“I don’t think so, I like this one better!”
“Give me a hug princess,” he murmured as he opened his arms for her to dive into them, “I love you so so much, thank you for being my MJ.” he chuckled as he kissed her forehead while he felt her arms wrap around his neck.
“I love you too,” she yawned, “and I’m not MJ, I’m Spider Gwen!”
“Can I be your Miles then?”
“As long as you’re with me you can be whatever you want daddy,” she mumbled as she was falling asleep in his arms, “I just want you to be happy…”
“When I’m with you and mummy I’m always happy, little one…” he said as he held her tighter, his heart bursting with love at his daughter’s words.
“Are you?” you asked as you emerged from the bathroom, “Is she asleep yet??”
“She is,” he said as he felt the little girl’s deep breaths against his naked chest, “are you coming to bed?”
“Yeah, just let me put her in her bed first…”
“Can we sleep together with her?” he asked as he stroked the baby’s cheek, looking at her with all the love in the world, “I just want to have you both close…”
“Okay my love,” you agreed as you laid down next to the both of them, “did she succeed in her mission to help you feel better?”
“She did,” he smiled, “you both did, as you always do…”
“I love you Mason,” you told him, “win or lose I’ll always love you, you’ll always have us. Got it?”
“I love you so much my love,” he sighed as he kissed your forehead, then the bridge of your nose, then your lips, “so, so much…”
“I love you more…” you said, stroking your daughter’s back as she slept on her father’s chest.
“Should we sleep now?”
“Yeah, put her down in the middle of us, you’ll get a backache if you sleep like this…” you murmured.
“Nah, let her be…” he said as he opened his free arm for you to slip under it.
“As you wish baby,” you said as you pressed a kiss on his naked shoulder, making yourself comfortable in his embrace, “sleep now, you need to rest…”
“That I do…” he chuckled after he yawned, “Good night babe,” he said as he kissed your lips, “Good night Sunflower…” he whispered in his daughter’s ear, earning a cute little groan from her.
“No daddy,” she slurred in her sleep, “no Sunflower… Spider Gwen.” she said, holding onto him tighter.
“Spider Gwen it is…” he chuckled as he watched you looking at the both of them dumbfounded.
“I swear you two are like two peas in a pod…”
“Don’t be jealous now,” he giggled, “we’ll find you an evil role to play!”
“Sleep Mount.”
#anon#anon ask#anon request#mason mount request#mason mount#mason mount imagine#mason mount imagines#mason mount one shot#mason mount one shots#mason mount fanfic#mason mount fanfics#mason mount fluff#mason mount x y/n#mason mount x reader#football imagines#football one shots#football fanfics#football fluffl#footballer imagines#footballer one shots#footballer fanfics#footballer fluff#footballer x y/n#footballer x reader
577 notes
·
View notes
Text
god I have the next like two chapters of breeze from the south ready in my peanut brain
twilight prince is getting curb stomped before we move on to ripping out its teeth
I had an idea for meow finally after like a month
#Somer writes#on struggle bus#Struggle fluff#Fluffle bus#Who knows#anyway sky might be making his mod au debut. Haven’t decided yet. I am giving him asthma.#lu fanfiction
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
These Autumn Days are Drifting by Like Falling Leaves
28. Samhain
Based on this prompt list
AO3
________________________________________________
“I really appreciate you helping with this,” he said as he stirred the onions in the pot. He had been delegated to stirring duty after… well, he hadn’t meant to flambé anything…
“It’s no problem,” she laughed as she continued chopping vegetables. “Actually, I’m really glad you called.”
“Yeah?”
The sound of her chopping stopped, and a moment later, her hand was on his. He stopped stirring as he turned to look at her. She was leaning against the counter, smiling up at him.
“I love sharing traditions with you. And it means a lot that you wanted me here for tonight.”
He dropped the spoon onto the spoonrest and reached up to cup her face. “I love sharing traditions with you too. And I always wanted you here for tonight. Just not… well, you were supposed to be a guest. You weren’t supposed to be the one cooking.”
“Better Marinette cooking than you insulting our ancestors with something from the freezer.”
“You could have helped…” he muttered as he rolled his eyes. But then Marinette giggled, and his face melted back into a smile the way it always did when she smiled.
“I made dessert, and I did all the decorations.” He yelped as Juleka elbowed past him to lean over the pot and smell the beginning of their dinner. “It smells great, Marinette!”
“Luka helped,” Marinette said with another laugh. “So tell me about more of the Samhain traditions. We’re doing the… Dumb Supper?” she asked as she went back to the cutting board she had been working at.
“Yeah.”
“But others are there?”
“Well, for starters,” he said as he used his hip to push Juleka out of the way. He picked up the spoon and began stirring the onions again as Juleka hopped up to sit on the counter beside him. “pumpkins weren’t the traditional thing to carve.”
“Yeah?”
“Originally, it was turnips.”
#endgame lukanette#lukanette endgame#pro lukamari#luka couffaine#marinette dupain cheng#juleka couffaine#domestic fluff#fluffl#writing prompt#monthly writing prompt#These Autumn Days are Drifting by Like Falling Leaves
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
Some CoD Hybrid Reader Drabbles
Hybrid reader stuff, if it's not your taste I recommend clicking off and finding something better to read (*cough cough* Temporary Relocation *cough cough*)
TW: Descriptions of violence and gore
Other than that mostly just fluff
I've gone down a rabbit hole (two kinds) and I can't help but think about some concepts I want to see interacting with this trope like...
If reader was a bunny hybrid, separated from their fluffle so just aimlessly wandering around. Used to having other bunny hybrids around to help with grooming/cleaning so you don't entirely know how to do that, either, at least not effectively. I imagine you wouldn't be found by the 141 while they're on duty, but rather one of them (or their family members) would find you while on leave. They'd take you in and take care of you, and start noticing just how good of a fight or flight system you have. Maybe with some good training, you'd make a good soldier...
If reader was a dog/wolf hybrid, kidnapped owned by some of the not necessarily best people in the world since only being a pup. In fact, these people end up being wrapped up in activities that the 141 ends up sticking their noses- and barrels- into. As they're stalking around the building where you're kept, making sure all of the targets are taken care of, they train their guns on you for a moment. It's when you back up quietly, whimpering with a raw and dehydrated throat, that they realize you aren't a threat. They unlock your prison kennel and tell you to move it before you're definitely a liability (whoever dictates this choice gets mega whooping from their higher-ups later). When they run into you again on the way out, finishing ripping out the esophagus of another target who would've otherwise interfered with exfil, that you're offered a position as a soldier. And you accept.
If reader was a cat hybrid who spent their time wandering streets, taking bites of abandoned food and finishing drinks long forgotten in order to survive, only for that very town to be the one Ghost and Soap arrive in while fleeing from Graves. You're crouched behind a dumpster when Graves is rounding up the cops, and even though you're bringing claws to a gunfight you can't stand to see him acting as judge, jury, and executioner. You find a Shadow nearby, not expecting anyone in their previous path to still be alive, and silently get their weapons off of them. You wait for your moment, using your intricate knowledge of the alleyways and buildings and rooftops to stay undetected, taking out the Shadows around Graves. You take an angle at Graves himself, jumping from a rooftop and landing on his shoulders, pulling his hair until he's stumbling backwards and you both fall into the fountain. You grab a beer bottle off of it and bash it directly over his head, making sure it shatters and knocks him unconscious. You scurry off, disappearing into the night before Soap has a chance to get down and speak to you, or even process what he just watched.
#141#call of duty#cod#ghost#john soap mactavish#johnny mactavish#cod mw2#cod mwii#cod mwf2#cod mw ghost#cod modern warfare#call of duty modern warfare 2#mwii#call of duty modern warfare#task force 141#tf 141 x reader#tf 141#hybrid reader#bunny hybrid reader#dog hybrid reader#cat hybrid reader#soap x reader#ghost x reader#price x reader#gaz x reader#task force 141 x reader#cod x reader#drabbles#fluff
456 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Boy is Mine (call-me-eds version)
I was not tagged in @carolmunson 's writing challenge, and encourage with her for other small writers to jump in and participate in anything that sparks interest or creativity! Find the guidelines here and check out her ongoing masterlist to see all of the other incredible editions :)
Masterlist
A romantic night in at the trailer.
Fluff | WC: 2.5 K
“I ran out of, like, nice cups, is this okay?” Eddie extended a plastic souvenir cup with the Cubs logo half chipped off, and it took everything in you not to slap it out of his hand.
The gravity of this night was not being taken seriously by anyone, and it was driving you up a wall. You could only give your own 100%, nothing more, but apparently you’d need to drag the effort from the Munson’s with your bare hands.
“No, it’s not okay! This is a date, you need to make a good impression,” you abandoned your station at the counter to start rifling through cabinets. There were three open bottles of whiskey in the trailer but not a single cocktail glass. Eddie’s soft voice barely pulled your wandering thoughts from wondering how long it would take you to run home to get two of your own glasses.
“Baby, do I need to remind you that neither of us are going on this date?” he asked, avoiding the urge to come behind you and put his hand on your shoulders to manually relax them. He didn’t want to lose a limb and you were dangerously close to the knife block. He looked on, feeling helpless in his own home while you ran around like the queen was coming over.
Whatever, it could have been possible that you were going a little overboard, but all you wanted was for Wayne to have a good night. He was so kind and hardworking, and putting up with Eddie was an exhausting job. The man was a saint.
So you messed with one of the lightbulbs to dim the light, fluffled the one throw pillow that the men had, and convinced Wayne to take his time getting ready while you and Eddie made a round of drinks that didn’t come with a tab or need a bottle opener.
“We don’t have time for reminders, just line the rims,” you said, carefully putting down the only two matching drinking glasses. They weren’t the martini glasses in your vision, but they would have to do.
“Vanilla frosting?” he confirmed. “What, is this Christmas-themed?” he joked, but took care in looking at the photo on the recipe you ripped out from an old home magazine you found. He gently inserted the glass and spun it around. No matter how much he teased you, you knew that he wanted the night to go well for his uncle just as badly as you did.
“So what if it is? Who doesn’t love Christmas?” you asked, going back to arranging the food you put on a tray you found that might have been older than Eddie. He finished his task, taking the care he knew you would have, quickly swiping his finger through the sugary substance when you were turned away.
“Everyone does, it’ll be a hit,” he said, maybe just to make you feel better, and licked his finger clean before you could catch him. “But if you don’t relax, you’re going to hit the floor,” he side-swiped you and pressed a kiss to your cheek, going to the sink.
With the self-imposed expectations you put on yourself to ensure your boyfriend’s father figure had a great night was the guilt that came from forcing your man to anticipate your wants for the night. There weren’t any canceled plans, and just a few snippy comments, but you were sure there were other ways Eddie would want to be spending his Saturday night off from work. Between ironing the one tailored shirt in Wayne’s closet and taking your own laundry down from the clothesline, you told Eddie to call Steve and make plans to meet him and Robin at The Hideout for a few drinks.
Non-peppermint drinks. Which smelled like Macy’s in December and were definitely from the holiday edition of the magazine. You didn’t have time to overthink your out-of-season choice, though, because Wayne was coming out of the bathroom smelling suspiciously like Eddie when you went out on special occasions. A mental note fleetingly popped into your head to buy your boyfriend his own, different scented, bottle of cologne.
“I could have sworn I told you two to scram,” Wayne said, a hint of sincerity in his mocking tone. His eyes scanned over your spread with equal parts appreciation and confusion. Fine, maybe wintery cocktails, carrots, and crackers didn’t exactly go together, but you were working on a tight timeline and whatever you could scrounge up from the Quick-Mart.
“We’re going soon, I swear,” you promised, mixing the combination of ingredients that you thought might be on the sweet side for Wayne’s preference, but were sure that his date would prefer to a Heineken. There wasn’t a cocktail shaker at your disposal, a measuring cup and a fork would have to get the job done.
Eddie could read the two of you like a book. The nervous energy you were emitting had him wanting to stay out of the way, so he washed and dried the few dishes you dirtied in record time. The domestic act may not have been as exciting as ripping a guitar solo, but it was just as sexy to you, especially when you didn’t even need to ask. Not that you were paying a speck of attention to him at the moment.
“Now Sally’s just coming over for a little while before we go to our rummy game,” Wayne said, sounding like he was warning you both to behave before leaving you with a babysitter. “So you don’t have to be out all night, but I don’t want you making her feel crowded,” he pointedly looked at Eddie this time, who couldn’t even pretend not to understand.
The last time the two of you had been around when Wayne’s “friend” Sally came over, Eddie wouldn’t stop asking her questions about her job, her family, her weekend routine, and you feared he was getting dangerously close to inquiring about her medical history and savings account.
“We’ll be out of your hair, don’t worry,” you confirmed, doing one last sweep to make sure there wasn’t a trace of Eddie in the living room. As endearing as he might be, your boyfriend had a tendency to leave anything that belonged to him in the shared space of the trailer.
“Now listen, here, partner,” the dark-haired Tasmanian devil strode up to his uncle in imitation and smacked a hand on his shoulder. “We’re not going far, so if there’s any funny business going on under this roof I will know about it.” The two of you heard a version of the same speech any time Wayne was going to the bar or leaving for a shift and you two would be by yourselves. It had the opposite effect, making you act all the more quicker so you’d be put back together when he came back home.
“Son, I was getting into funny business before you were born,” he responded, knocking Eddie’s bravado right off its kilter.
“Oh, ew, I don’t want to think about that!” he whined, blush appearing faster than his hands could cover his face.
“Well, if you don’t quit it, we’re going to have a problem, then.”
“Leave him alone, let’s go,” you said, grabbing the bag of snacks reserved for you two from your grocery trip. “Have fun, Mr. Munson,” you smiled. Even though you were setting him up for a night of romance and intimacy, you still couldn’t bring yourself to call him by his first name.
“Thank you, Darlin’, I’ll see you later,” he said, reaching out to ruffle Eddie’s hair before he was out of reach.
“Hey!” You opened the door to separate the two before a wrestling match broke out and a button popped or a hair came out of place.
“And if you don’t start opening doors, boy, you won’t even be in amusing business, nevermind funny!” he called after the two of you, making you laugh. He kept walking, grabbing your hand and waving it around so his uncle could see the small act of romance.
The two of you strolled in between the trailers as the sun was dipping below the horizon. You let the stillness of the evening come over you, decompressing from your few high-string hours. The adrenaline seeping out of you made you more tired than you should have been before sunset, and you accepted that your actions were a bit overkill. But you just couldn’t help yourself.
“Your uncle looked really nice,” you commented, smiling at the thought of him deciding what to wear and pulling out his fanciest belt buckle. “Like a real gentleman.”
“And you like that?” Eddie asked. “You’re not exactly dating the swankiest guy in town,” he flicked the hand that wasn’t holding yours up and down, gesturing to his sweatpants and t-shirt. You wouldn’t dignify his self-deprecation with a response, so you just squeezed his hand.
“He was nervous, it was cute,” you deflected. Eddie sat down in one of the chained-down adirondack chairs that the trailer park had surrounding a few singed logs that were last tended to before you had even met the Munsons. He reached down to grab the security measure and tug another chair as close as it could possibly get to his.
“I don’t understand why we couldn’t have just stayed in my room or something,” he said as you sat down. “I could have behaved myself.” Even as the words came out of his mouth, his mumbling was evidence even he didn’t believe it. “Whatever, I’ll just read about it in his little notebook later that he pretends isn’t a diary.”
“Eddie!” you laughed. “Let him have some privacy, he’s a grown man.” As you and Eddie got older, he tended to treat his uncle more like a roommate than an elder. When you first started dating he would have taken his arm from being around your shoulders when Wayne walked into the room, where now he tried to convince you that walking around in his boxers wasn’t weird, it was like wearing your own shorts.
“You love him more than me,” he deduced, flopping in the chair like a depressed fish.
“Aw, don’t be like that. that’s not even true,” you swung your leg over the arms of your chairs, and his hand drew like a magnet to your calf, starting to rub it with the amount of pressure he learned you preferred.
“Yes it is, that’s why you always want to come over to my place. You’re using me to get to him and his union insurance,” he teased, sending you into a further fit of giggles.
“Would someone that bought you your nasty snacks be using you?” you asked, handing him the plastic bag with the beef jerky he loved so much.
“You do always say this will give me a heart attack,” he smiled, ripping open one of the packages with his teeth. The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, Eddie’s massaging hand lulling you into a level of relaxation that let you both know you wouldn’t be joining Steve and Robin at the bar like you originally planned. With all of his talk of malintentions on your front, you were pretty sure that he was trying to lull you into the state you were in now so he wouldn’t want to go out.
Eddie talked a big game, but when faced with the decision to hit the town or stay curled up in bed with you, he was hiding your shoes, boiling water for tea, and putting a blanket on the radiator for maximum comfort.
“Hey, you know I appreciate it, right?” he asked through his chewing.
“What, the snacks? They were like, two bucks,” you told him. He pinched your skin lightly, chastising you for making him talk about how he truly felt,
“No, you doing all of that for Uncle Wayne.” You kept your eyes on the stars that were starting to dot the sky. It was always so much easier to spot them from the trailer park, even more so with Eddie by your side.
“I was happy to,” you reassured. It wasn’t a secret how much you loved spending time not only with your boyfriend, but with his uncle. He always made space for you in his home and trusted you with the most important thing in his life.
“I know, but it still means a lot, Sweetheart. I love you,” he lifted your leg slightly so he could lean down and press his lips to your ankle where your leggings separated from your sock.
“I love you,” you answered automatically.
“Next week I’ll make sure he goes out so I can give you a romantic evening,” he promised.
“This is a romantic evening,” you hummed.
“Baby, I know I’m white trash, but don’t let me drag you down into thinking this is romance,” he laughed. You sighed and finally took the bait from all of his negative quips.
“Okay, what’s your idea of romance, then?”
“Not helping my uncle get laid,” he scoffed. You pulled your leg from his grasp to lightly kick at his chest. “Alright, alright. If I had unlimited cash I would start by hiring a chef to cook for us so we wouldn’t even need to leave the house,” he started, cajoling your leg back into his grasp to continue his massage.
“Does that mean I wouldn’t have to dress up?” you asked.
“Ideally, you wouldn’t be wearing anything,” he said, fully meaning it. “I’d have a new piece of jewelry come out with every course, so I guess you could wear that. And after we ate, maybe I’d hire someone to play us a concert, like Prince or someone. Then we’d go fly to France for dessert on my private jet and come home to the penthouse and watch the sunrise,” he finished.
“That’s not romantic at all,” you said. “That’s just expensive.” You pulled away this time not to punish him, but to get closer. His hand was warm from the work it was putting in on your muscles as opposed to the normal chill.
“Okay, so then what was the right answer?” he asked.
“This, just being together,” you said, knocking the air from his chest and the canned response from his lips.
It was a simple answer that held much more beneath the surface. What you weren’t saying was that every time you were with him felt like you were winning the lottery. The idea of a five-star meal and some diamonds were nice, but you’d take Eddie heating up a can of soup on the stove, a bracelet made of string and beads, and him playing the same guitar riff over and over for hours over anything he could cook up in his mind.
Despite the nice picture he painted, running through his mind was a more similar scene to yours, except there was a ring on your finger.
“I guess that sounds good, too.”
#stranger things#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson blurb#writing prompt#st4#stranger things fic#my writing#eddie munson fluff#wayne munson
96 notes
·
View notes
Text
Summary: You’ve been hooking up with and hanging out with San and Seonghwa for a bit now. You’re tired of the lack of labels, though.
Pairing: dragon!Seonghwa x fem bunny!reader x dragon!San
Tropes: hybrid au
Genre: fluff, angst, (barely) suggestive
Rating: PG 13
Warnings: emotional breakdown, arguments, suggestive comments, y/n has blue eyes due to being a rabbit
Word Count: 1,616
Note: Look forward to more of this! @sanjoongie and I have created a whole universe about these hybrids!!
Cotton Tails & Simmering Fires Masterlist
It’s become common for you to sit on the couch between two dragon hybrids. It should be weird, considering you’re a bunny, but here you are. You hadn’t really sat down and thought about it too deeply yet. The way you met them was odd. First, you were out of your safe space, but now here you are, and now you’ve been hooking up with both of them together and individually for a few weeks now. You’re tucked under San’s arm, wearing one of his shirts, and watching some random sitcom. Your legs are resting in Seonghwa’s lap, his finger drawing random patterns on the bare skin of your leg. The mixture of San’s sea breeze scent and Seonghwa’s strawberry jam is oddly comforting.
You watch as Yeosang walks through the living room to the kitchen. Truth be told, you smelled him before you saw him. His peppermint scent cut through the air more aggressively than some others, though it wasn’t unwelcome. He looks you up and down, not a care for his friends being tangled with you right now. His electric green eyes draw you into his gaze.
“I might have to try you out for myself, hops. Damn, your legs look so nice bare like that.”
You know your scent heightens a bit, even gets a tad sweeter. The two dragons cuddling with you notice too. Seonghwa snarls under his breath. His electric blue eyes almost glow brighter as his slitted pupils become thinner. Icy shards building just beneath the surface of his fingertips. And if that wasn’t enough, his typically sweet scent goes extremely sour to the point your nose crinkles. San is in no better state. Smoke puffs from between his lips as he attempts to hold back from burning Yeosang to a crisp right then and there. They had no right to be jealous, though, none at all. You throw your legs off Seonghwa and remove San’s arm around you. Then, making your way over to the green-eyed dragon, you look up at him with your big blue doe eyes.
“Maybe,” you start, rocking on your heels, “maybe I’ll take you up on that offer.”
“No, you won’t.” Seonghwa deadpans.
“Remember what we told you?” San adds.
You see red, and your typically sweet sugar cookie scent burns out of pure anger.
“You don’t fucking own me. We aren’t dating, and I’m not your property. I knew you dragon hybrids were territorial walking into whatever the fuck this is, but that is no excuse to be an asshole.”
You don’t even give them a chance to respond to you. You lock yourself in San’s room as you change and don’t allow them to explain themselves when you leave. Your mind is a flurry of emotions and thoughts as you navigate your way back to your hollow. You texted a member of your fluffle that you were on your way back. She was more than ready to hear whatever you had to rant about. She was one of the best listeners you know. That being said, she’s also the worst enabler you know too.
“You don’t understand!” you exclaim as you pace through your room.
“You’re right. I don’t.” your fluffle-mate chuckles from your desk chair.
“They’re fine with sharing with each other. Hell, they even mentioned that they would probably share me with the rest of their thunder and-”
“Woah, woah, woah… they said what?”
“That they’d share me. Now, keep up-”
“You’re telling me,” she sighs, “You’re telling me that they told you they were going to share you and then decided to get jealous ‘cause of a comment one of their thunder members made? You realize how hypocritical that is?”
You’re about to respond, but there’s a knock at your door. The scent of someone uncomfortable or fearful of something accompanies it. You turn the worn nob on the dark wood of your bedroom door to see one of the slightly younger fluffle members practically shaking in front of you.
“Are you o-”
“T-there are two dragon h-h-hybrids outside the house, and I just wanted to warn you guys.”
Your eyebrows furrow, “Two? What do they look like?”
“I didn’t stick around long, but they both have kinda long black hair… I think the one had his hair in a ponytail. T-the one had really scary neon blue eyes, and the other’s eyes looked almost white. They were so pale… I didn’t like how they seemed.” she admits.
“Did you see what color their tails or any scales were?” you pry further.
“Black… and really shiny purple, I think… it might’ve been dark blue.”
“Fuck,” you curse under your breath, “I appreciate you telling me.”
She nods, scurries to her room quickly, and shuts the door tightly. You close your door much more gently and turn to face your friend. She’s already giving you a knowing look. She knows what you’re about to say.
“I guess I’d better go ta-”
“Yeah, yeah,” she waves you off, “go talk to those emotionally constipated dragon boys of yours.”
You’re dreading walking outside your home. Not because you’re scared of them; that’s far from the case. You simply do not want to interact with them right now. You trudge your way out of the home to see both boys standing at the edge of the front lawn. They look horribly out of place. Both of them are dressed in dark colors; San has a chain on his hip yet again. Seonghwa decided to have all his piercings in and use the most obnoxious dangling ones in his ears. As you approach the duo, you notice how Seonghwa’s pupils widen, and his strawberry jam scent sweetens upon seeing you. That, at least, is a comforting feeling.
“What do you want?” you ask with a bite in your tone.
“We want to talk.” San replies shortly, his salty scent growing even saltier somehow.
“What he means is, we fucked up, and we want to talk things out with you.”
You sigh annoyedly, “You have 10 minutes.”
You think for a moment about taking them back inside your home. You decide against it, though, since you know some of your fluffle are uncomfortable with their presence outside the house as it is. You plop down on the grass, and they follow suit. There’s a small patch of wildflowers right beside you that occupies your attention. You delicately fiddle with the petals of a vibrantly purple one before Seonghwa takes your hand in his. The gesture makes you look up from the flower and the sight you see you’ve never been privy to before. Seonghwa’s eyes are lightly brimmed with tears. His slitted pupils are narrow again, and you swear that the scales framing his face are paler, with little bits of mist coming from beneath them. His scent becomes subdued slightly as well.
“Hops,” he sighs, “I’m so fucking sorry. We had no right-” he lets out a shaky breath, “We had no right to be territorial over you when we aren’t dating.”
“Yeah, sorry we didn’t account for your feelings.” San adds.
San seems far more apathetic about the entire situation. It pisses you off. Seonghwa, you know, is being genuine. He’s told you before that he doesn’t often cry, so to see him on the verge of tears now shows the authenticity of his emotions.
“Don’t you have any remorse, San?” you bite, and the scent of burning sugar returns to the air.
You have no room for being gentle or kind right now. You’re angry; how, after what happened, could he be so nonchalant about it still?
“Excuse me?” the younger dragon asks.
You can see the flames burning below his fingertips, searing the grass below him. His already sharp, salty scent grows even more intense. Now you’re fearful. You know he wouldn’t hurt you, but your natural flight tendencies are screaming at you to bolt away. So instead, you watch as Seonghwa places his hand on San’s and instantly cools his hand.
“You know we’re not great with the whole emotion thing. San doesn’t apologize. So the fact that he’s apologizing to you is huge.”
“I kinda love you.” San says quietly, sniffling slightly while his scent dulls to a post-storm kind of sea scent.
You look at the purple-scaled dragon and see he’s not looking at you. Small puffs of smoke are coming from his nostrils, and his silver eyes are nearly metallic. He’s crying. You find yourself tossing yourself into his arms and wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands instantly reach your waist and hold you against him. He cries into your shoulder as he holds you in his lap. Seonghwa runs his hand over your fluffy white ear and soothes you. You hadn’t even noticed you were crying until Seonghwa ran one of his fingers against your cheek, catching a stray tear.
"I can't believe that you want me. Both of you. Actually wanting me, not just my body." you half joke.
You hear a chuckle rumble through San’s chest at your comment.
"Well, you're good company. You and your body." he teases back, earning him a gentle smack to his shoulder.
“Should we go back to the lair then?” Seonghwa asks softly.
“I’d like that.” you respond, voice muffled by San’s shirt.
“We have a lot to make up for. We’re doing everything and anything you want for the next week.” Seonghwa chuckles sweetly
“Some of us have work to do.” San replies. You hold him tighter, “I mean, I’m sure that my secretary can handle the paperwork for a few days. We need to spend a whole lot of time with our precious girlfriend.”
COPYRIGHT STARLITMARK 2023© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED — reposting/modifying any fic or piece of original writing posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations are not permitted.
Networks: @cultofdionysusnet @kwritersworld @k-vanity
Tag List: @jaehunnyy @brattybunfornct @roseforseonghwa @spiderrenjunfics @umbralhelwolf @ericssmile @honeyhuii @tarutarumilk
#ateez x reader#cultofdionysusnet#kwritersworldnet#kvanity#ateez fanfic#ateez fluff#ateez angst#seonghwa fanfic#seonghwa x reader#seonghwa fluff#seonghwa angst#san fanfic#san x reader#san fluff#san angst
480 notes
·
View notes
Text
Time to write something for the BG3 Holiday Fluffle! I wanted to do it for days, but finally got around to it-- fluff!
Prompt: Twinkling Lights
Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav
Series: Fits into Love at First Knife
Premise: Astarion and Rogue!Tav are more used to snuffing lights out, not putting up lights, but after a visit from one of their former companions, they realize that maybe, just for the season, they can make an exception.
Tags: Fluff, heights?, Established Relationship, POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, decorating
Word count: ~800
“Come on, Astarion,” you say, pushing your lover to the front of your house. “It won’t take longer than an hour.”
“That’s an hour we could better spend doing literally anything else,” he responds in a whine, all but digging his heels into the ground.
You can see the hardline of his shoulders as he resists, the open distaste on his face, but you don’t relent. “Gale said our house looked depressing. We don’t want our house to look depressing. Or to be made fun of by Gale!”
It was a winter tradition, to decorate your abode in bright lights and garish colors– something about warding against ice elementals in the chillier months. Likely some old wive’s tale, but you don’t care. You refuse to let Gale criticize your as-of-yet undecorated house.
“But it’s chilly outside,” he says with an exaggerated pout on his face. “Surely you wouldn’t make your sad, cold lover endure the snow?”
“It’s not snowing, Astarion,” you say, gesturing through your door to the clear night sky in front of you.
The vampire gives a click of his tongue, and finally begins to walk forward. “Ugh, fine, but I expect you to warm me up once we’re done.”
“It would be my pleasure,” you reply, as you follow him out the door. “Now grab on to the other end of this string of faerie lights that Gale gave me.”
Astarion dutifully takes the opposite end as you begin to climb the face of your house. “Darling, what in the sweet hells are you doing?” he asks, trying to hide the panic in his voice.
“Putting up these lights, what else would I be doing?” you respond, from halfway up the house.
He gives you a smile, a forced one that shows the tips of his fangs. “Yes, I see that. But don’t you want to use a ladder or perhaps a scroll?”
You pause your climbing for a moment. “Huh, that would have been a good idea. I’m already here though. Don’t worry, love! I’m a professional.”
Astarion remains silent for a moment, and you can practically hear the thoughts coursing through his head. I love an idiot. What am I supposed to do with this idiot? Why are these silly little lights worth any of this effort? This is all Gale’s fault.
All the while, you string up the lights with the help from your belt of thieves' tools. You begin humming a holiday song once you find a steady balance.
You enter such a lull that when Astarion next speaks, you almost fall off in surprise. “I think I can catch you.”
“What?” you ask, certain you’ve misheard what your lover said.
“If you fall,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “In fact, I know I can catch you.”
You’re not sure if it’s the cold air or the unwarranted confidence in Astarion’s voice, but you feel a chill run down your spine. “No thank you, dear. We might both perish.”
He scoffs, placing his hands on his hips, ready to argue his point. The sudden movement accidentally jerks the string of lights out of your hand, throwing you off-balance. Your foot slips and your arms frantically spin as you to try to right yourself.
“I’ve got you!” you hear below you, before you begin to plummet.
The hard crash you were expecting never came, and you find yourself floating gently down to the ground, landing squarely in Astarion’s waiting arms.
You look at him, quizzically. “How did you–”
He laughs at your confusion, before placing you gently on the ground. “I stole Gale’s boots.” As if to prove his point, he shows a foot off to you. You recognize the boots as Mystra's Grace, remembering that they grant Featherfall to their user. “I mostly did it because Gale annoyed me, who knew they would come in handy!”
“Oh,” you breathe out, heart still pounding in your ears. “Good foresight, dear.”
The grin he gives you is wicked as he responds, “Clearly a sign from the gods to steal from Gale more often.”
You give him a lighthearted smack on the arm before you turn back to the house, lights half-hung, haphazardly strewn across your roof. “What do you think?” you ask him, a grimace on your face.
“I like it. Very… artistic,” he turns toward it, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to pull you in to admire your ‘handiwork’ with him. A moment passes of simply staring into the loud, vibrant lights before he continues, “You know I’m more used to a life in the shadows, but I suppose this is nice too.”
You lean into his embrace, tilting your head toward him as you respond, “Isn’t it? Though, I do think I still prefer the shadows.”
“Mm, why is that?” Astarion asks, humming into your hair.
“It’s far less embarrassing when I slip,” you mutter as you bury your heated face into his shoulder.
#bg3holidayfluffle23#astarion x tav#astarion#rogue + rogue#astarion x reader#fanfic#astarion fluff#drabble
109 notes
·
View notes
Text
Bedtimes
Bedtimes could sometimes be havoc
Dad!Aemond x fem!reader
A/N: I wrote this while completely exhausted, but just had to get out one little drabble because I haven't written anything in ages
Bedtimes always seemed to be the most difficult part of your days. Your sweetest daughter, with her pale silver-gold hair never seemed to sit still for more than a few moments.
And bedtimes were not different.
She would always say, “Have to do one more thingy,” right as you were about to tuck her in, before leading you one wild goose chase around her room.
Tonight, however, you were in no mood for this chaos that could only come from her father’s side. She was running around the room as always, playing with her favourite stuffed dragon that her Aunt Heleana had made. She flapped it around the room, making it fly around.
“Please, Lya, please get into bed,” you begged yet again.
“But Dagon want to fly!” she protested, ducking around your arms yet again. “Dagon must have ex-ser-size.”
“Lya, please. I’m sure Dagon must be tired by now. It’s late and past your bedtime.”
“No!”
‘No’ had been among the first words your daughter learnt, much to your chagrin.
Aemond smiled in the doorway. He knew you were tired, and he should be helping, but at the same time, very little pleased him more than watching his daughter play. She was his little one, his sweetest daughter, his darling child. Most often, his little dragon. He loved how she had named her toy dragon, ‘Dagon’ (she hadn’t quite figured her r’s yet).
But he knew he would never here the end of it if he didn’t step in. He stalked quietly into the room, and, as Lya ran past him, he picked her up and put her over his shoulder.
She wriggled and giggled as he carried her to her cot.
“Kepa! Kepa!”
He laid her down gently. “Now, little dragon, I should know how important it is for dragon to have its exercise, but I also know that it is important for them to sleep.”
“But Dagon haven’t done enough today,” she protested again.
Aemond picked up the little toy. One wing was only hanging on by a thread. In only a year or tow, she had managed to break her favourite toy.
“I think Dagon has had enough for today, and he would like to sleep.”
“But he need to fly!”
“He will fly in his dreams, little one.”
“You pwomish?”
“I promise.”
Aemond bent over the cot and kissed her forehead. “Come on now, little dragon. Let’s get you tucked in.”
He bushed a few stray hairs back from her face and set about wrapping the blankets securely around her in the hopes that she wouldn’t get up in the night. Lya was already seeming tired. She stretched and yawned, clutching the little dragon toy.
“Goo-nigh Kepa,” she mumbled, her voice muffled by the dragon she had now smooshed against her face. “Goo-nigh Muna.”
“Goodnight, sweetling.”
You kissed her forehead and smiled, watching her fall asleep. You started moving towards your own bedchambers and your warm comfortable bed. You expected Aemond to follow you, but he hadn’t moved.
You turned. Aemond was smiling adoringly down at his daughter.
“Goodnight, byka zaldrīzes.”
He kissed her forehead again and then started making his way to you. He paused at the door, taking in your expression.
“What is it, ñuha jorrāelagon?”
You could still see him with your daughter. For all his ramblings about not wanting to be like his own father, he was certainly lavishing attention on his daughter. And you loved to be able to watch it. Lya was her father’s daughter, of that there was no doubt.
“I love you,” you said.
“I love you too, sweetest wife.”
You followed him to bed, and indeed it was warm.
#house of the dragon#hotd fic#aemond targaryen#aemond one eye#aemond fluff#aemond x fem!reader#aemond x y/n#dad aemond#fluff#fluff fluff#fluff fluff fluffl fluff fluff fluff#fluffy fluff fluff fluff
423 notes
·
View notes
Note
Feral Fluffle AU: Swede mother of God. The feral and the fluff are spreading…
Everyone watching Midoriya grow fur and ears: "Is... is it contagious????"
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
The morning after || Song Mingi
Genre: Fluff
Pairing: Boyfriend!Mingi x gn!reader
Word count: 514
Warnings/tags: Fluffy fluffy fluffles, mentions of virginity loss, idk man it's really just tooth rotting fluff.
Tell me if I missed anything!
@anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @veronicasawyerschainsaw @whatudowhennooneseesyou @star1117-archives @wooyoungmybelovedhusband
Tell me if you wanna be added to my taglist!❣️
ENJOY!
-
''Good morning, baby.''
You felt his nose nuzzled up in your neck, taking in your natural scent. Mingi softly pressed kisses in your neck, then on your jaw and ending with a peck on your lips. You couldn't help but smile so wide your cheeks hurt. ''Goodmorning, Mingi,'' you said as your caressed his face gently.
''How did you sleep?'' he asked, wrapping his arms tightly around your body. ''I slept well,'' you giggled, ''sleeping in your arms definitely helped.'' He grinned in his usual goofy way. ''Glad to help,'' he said, kissing your head. ''Do you want some breakfast? I can bake some pancakes. Now, I'm not too excellent but I can try.''
You laughed, stroking his hair. ''I'd love that, let's do that together, hm?'' The two of you got up, and you hissed, feeling sore from last night. You and Mingi hadn't been together for that long yet, and yesterday you slept together for the first time. Besides that, it was your first time ever.
You remembered his lips being everywhere, his hands holding your smaller ones and his voice. You'd never forget such a magical night. And now here you were, in your underwear and his sweater that was huge on your smaller body.
Following Mingi to the kitchen, you couldn't help but yawn. He grinned and pulled you close. ''Is my baby still a little tired?'' ''Mhm, I just need a sec to wake up, Mango.'' He laughed at the nickname you gave him.
He grabbed the ingredients from the kitchen cabinet as you grabbed the materials. You were busy making the pancake batter as Mingi hugged you from behind, hugging your smaller form. ''Mingi, I can't concentrate like this, can I?''
''How bad do you have to concentrate on pancakes?'' Mingi laughed. You rolled your eyes and grinned. ''Very hard, now shut up,'' you said, hitting him playfully. Mingi watched patiently as you finished mixing the batter. When you were done he took care of baking them in the pan. You prepared the table nicely and waited patiently for him as he baked the pancakes.
When Mingi finished you sat down together, trying them out with various toppings such as cinnamon sugar, strawberries and nutella. He grinned when he saw a bit of nutella stick to the corner of your mouth. The taller leaned over the table to wipe it off. The look in his eyes, full of love, made you feel shy as you took another bite of your pancake.
''Thanks,'' you smiled, ''the pancakes turned out pretty well, by the way!'' Mingi smiled at your praise. ''Turned out as well as we did?'' You laughed at the cringey line. ''Stop, oh my gosh, that was such a bad line!'' ''Deal with it, you fell for me, you chose me,'' he smirked. ''I did choose you. And even at times you are a weirdo and say dumb things, I'll still love you,'' you smiled. Mingi smiled softly at that, heart filling with love.
Who could've known the morning after felt just as magical as the night before?
145 notes
·
View notes
Note
haiii!! espurr npts please? if you havent done it yet ^__^
i haven't , no ! of course !!!
names
nyasper , fluffles , psy , mimi , mokō ( japanese ) , alisa , raine , maezie , minnie , torrii , alistair , malcolm , duveteuse ( feminine ) / duveteux ( masculine ) , psychique , potentia
pronouns
keen / keens , eye / eyes , psy / psychics , purr / purrs , kit / kitty / kittens , blank / blanks , esp / espers , fluff / fluffs , poké / pokés , ele / elegant / elegance , boop / boops , chat / chatons , power / powers
titles
the restraint pokémon , (prn) with uncontrollable psychic energy , a student of serene village , the scottish fold pokémon , the one with an expressionless face , (prn) who lives alone in the mansion , the dangerous yet fluffy one
there isn't much to go off with espurr so i apologize if it feels lacking ... thank you for requesting still !!!
#a picnic under a sakura tree : requests / non requests#pokemon#espurr#npt#npts#npt list#npt ideas#npt pack#npt suggestions#name suggestions#pronoun suggestions#title suggestions
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
✦ Fluffle Puff names — prns — titles
╰ requested by anon !
similar ones like here
NAMES ︙ fluffle . fwuffle / fwaffle . sofi . softie . sofiette . softine . rainbow . reignbow . raine . wooly . woolie . wooliette . fluffette . fluffeine . lillette . lily . blossom . bloomie . pinkie . dahlia . cotton . candie . candy . candielle . candeine . cherry . cheryl . pwuffle . pwuffie . pompom . sweetie . sweetine
PRNS ︙ fluff . fwu . plu / plush . sof / soft . meep / meep . bleh / blep . che / cherry . nom / noms . fri / frill . bweh / bwah . cu / cutie . flo / floof . 🌸 . 🌷 . 🌈 . 🖍️
TITLES ︙ the fluffiest one ever . the ball of fluffs . the cutest fluff ball . the ray of sunshine . prn who is the cutest . prn who has fluffs and furs . the cutest of all . prn who is cuddly . the cuddliest furball . the one adorned in fluffs . the one who traversed through rainbows
#🦑 sea floor ┈ ♡#fluffle puff#names#name list#name suggestions#neopronouns#pronoun suggestions#pronoun list#pronouns#title list#title suggestions
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
Some headcanons
> A group of Waddle Dees is called a Fluffle and/or a Snuggle
> Celestials/Asterals are what kirbies and dark matter are collectively called. (May post a bunch of headcanons based on their biology)
> A lot of species get covered in pollen mainly ones like Waddle Dees, Celestials, Burto Burts.
> Kirby takes lessons on baking and tries to bake every holiday
> Prince Fluff and Bandee often scrapbook together
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
For @sumbul 🐰
It would be fine, Draco told himself as he exited the lifts to the DMLE. He looked around, breathing a sigh of relief at the relative din of the early morning.
He was doing office work today, and could hide the offending thing currently perched on his open hand. If someone came into his office, he would simply shove it into his desk drawer to hide it from view.
As if the small white rabbit currently nestled in Draco’s hand could read his thoughts, it gave him a look of abject betrayal, eyes wide and pleading. He scowled at it, but conceded a brief pet of its floppy ears.
“Alright, Malfoy?” asked Dresilda, one of the senior Aurors who seemed to have a knack for catching Draco unawares (see: that time Draco came out of the supply closet with a mortified Granger hiding behind his robes.)
Dresilda had given them a wicked grin before sauntering away, leaving Draco at the hands of a very angry witch.
Draco jumped, though he felt no relief when he saw she was alone. He was sure word of his new pet would reach the Auror bullpen before lunch, thanks to the ever-loose tongue of his superior.
“Did you stop by the Magical Creature department on your way here?” she asked, her shoulders shaking suspiciously, lips pursing in a tight line before she finally let out a cackling laugh.
He scowled at her, then turned on his heel to take the long route. When he made a sharp turn towards the archive wing, he bumped right into Granger.
With the same force she came at everything, Granger barrelled right into Draco’s chest, causing him to almost lose his hold on the fluff ball.
To stemmy both their falls (he was grateful for all his etiquette lessons as a boy), he caught hold of Granger’s waist before she tipped back and fell, still holding the rabbit in his other hand and lifting it in the air if it were a prized snitch.
“Steady on,” he said, privately delighting in the way her soft curves felt beneath his hand.
“Hello to you, too,” she said jovially, looking up at him with a small smile, before turning her gaze skywards, eyes widening.
“Malfoy,” she said, bafflement written in the furrow between her eyebrows. “Are you aware that you’re holding a bunny rabbit?”
The bunny in question raised its chin, staring at Granger as if considering if the fluffy-haired witch was an ally or an enemy.
Draco’s mouth twitched upwards.
“I am.” He sighed, resigned to the fact that he wouldn’t make it to his office as fast as he would’ve liked. “Teddy decided that it was a good idea for me to chaperone his bunny rabbit while he was forced to go to the doctor. Evidently, there is a no-pet rule.”
She let out a light laugh, then set a hand on his arm. There was an odd, fluttery sensation in his stomach at the touch.
Draco had long decided that Granger had offensive knuckles. She would brush them down his arms, his sides, and, in one particularly offensive moment, down his cheek. Those same knuckles scorched his already heated skin as she turned her hand and brushed his sleeve.
“And you were the only hero available?” she asked teasingly.
He grimaced. “Mother was there too, but she’s allergic to rabbits. The entire time she was there, she was wearing a bubble-head charm.” He chuckled at the memory of his mother, whose stern frown held no weight with the thin film of liquid surrounding her. “We had to raise our voices so she could hear us in her bubble.”
“Your mother is allergic to rabbits?” The idea seemed to bother Granger greatly.
“She is.” He started heading towards his office, ready to say goodbye, but paused when Granger fell in step beside him.
He raised an eyebrow.
“Did you know a gathering of bunnies is called a fluffle?”
“A fluffle?”
“Yes!” She slapped her hands together, her eyes filling with glee. “Actual bunny colonies. I think I’d die if I ever saw one.”
“And this is important information?”
Her cheeks coloured. “Well, no. But the idea that a bunny colony is called a fluffle is spectacularly adorable,” she said primly.
“Flunny, even. Granger—please don’t laugh.”
This did not dissuade her, and she laughed all the way to his office. “Sorry. That was just such a terrible dad joke,” she said, wiping tears from her eyes. She gave him a considering look as she turned fully to face him. “Though I suppose you are a bunny dad now.”
He glared at her, then spelled his office open, cursing inwardly that he held the rabbit with his wand hand. If there was a sudden attack in the Auror Department, he’d go in rabbit-blazing rather than wand-blazing.
He was certain the rabbit just gave him another betrayed look.
When Granger walked in with him, he gave her a confused look. “I didn’t realise this was your office.”
“I’m just glorying in seeing you like this,” she said, smiling wryly. “Your obnoxiously tailored robes and coiffed hair really suit her.”
Draco scoffed, holding the rabbit closer to himself as he made to step towards Granger. “How do you know it’s a she?”
She grinned. “I’m the one who bought her for Teddy. Though I have heard no word on its name.”
Of course Granger would be the one to gift someone something annoyingly adorable. Two words he’d also use to describe her.
“Teddy is a genius five-year-old,” Draco started, unable to contain a smile.
Granger raised an eyebrow.
“He named it The Chosen Bun.”
He had to give Granger credit. She thinned her lips in a straight line—even put her hand over her mouth to stop the torrent of laughter that was clearly trying to make its presence known.
“Does Harry know?” she asked, voice muffled by her palm.
“He was a bit horrified, to my eternal glee,” Draco said, letting out a laugh, then another, until Granger joined him. They laughed for a solid minute, until Draco’s stomach hurt, and Granger had to wipe tears from her eyes.
“Oh god,” she said. “Nothing will top this for me today. I can’t wait to harass Harry.”
He looked at her smile, at the way it brightened his unlit office, and thought nothing could ever top the image of her.
She seemed to sense the change in the air as well, because she blushed. Her avid gaze and knowing eyes made his heart pound.
“I like it,” she said lightly, laying a hand on his arm. His blood roared in his veins, “You look… attractive with a small animal.”
Draco blinked, feeling as if he’d combust on the spot.
She gave him another smile, before reaching up and kissing him on the cheek. “I have to go,” she said softly, right at the scene of the crime in which her knuckles had first caused destruction.
Granger was trying to kill him with that smile, that mouth. It was a sort of lazy larceny she’d honed to precision.
Soft knuckles brushed down his arm again (beautiful thief, he wanted to say), before she gave the rabbit a gentle pat on the head. It seemed to have made up its mind about Granger, because it leaned into her touch.
After Granger left, Draco sat at his desk, considering the floppy-eared menace, which was now sniffing the air and tentatively moving its front legs on the hard mahogany desk.
“Don’t suppose you’re part of some rabbit colony?”
The rabbit’s floppy ears twitched once, and then it rolled onto its side and promptly fell asleep on Draco’s palm.
“I suppose not,” he said with a roll of his eyes. And smiled.
88 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
goonie-6969
"private "
reticenciador
Live Fearless
smartcorrine
Corrine Chen
web-novel-polls
"I'm an impartial poll runner," he lied.