“Fuck off will ya” Pete waved his hands around his head in an attempt to escape the slight tugging on his hair. You attempted to muffle a giggle as you continued to plait his fluffy hair, loving the soft feeling against your fingers.
“Well if your hair wasn’t so fluffy I wouldn’t want to play with it. And it’s gotten so long.”
“Well if you ever attempt to do this again I’ll cut it all off.” He growled. You carried on until you got it in the style you wanted, a French plait tight to his undercut.
“There, you can quit complaining now. God, people would never think you’ve been through street fights when you can barely handle a braid.”
The unmistakable sound of a shutter echoed through the apartment, you flinched at how loud it was, forgetting your phone wasn’t on silent. You could see his every muscle tense.
“Don’t even think about sending that to the guys.” You took two silent steps backwards attempting a hasty retreat.
A squeal sounded as he pounced over the sofa, and took off after you. He caught you quickly, pinning you against a wall fighting your phone off you, you were giggling all the while, trying to defend yourself but failing entirely. He took your phone, unlocking it and looking at the screen.
“Whoops… too late” you giggled. You looked up and were greeted by a scowl.
“You’re fucking lucky I love you.”