#tw fluff

Soon enough, he was found by a talent scout as soon as you two graduated high school, Argenti’s beauty soon made him a quickly rising star in the fashion industry.

And Years later, he wasn’t just the blooming flower, he was the rose that everyone envy and adored, designers practically fight over who gets to put their work on the canvas that was Argenti’s figure, his green eyes with flawless long lashes and obliviously bright smile landed him any contract he wanted. Heck he was rich yet is seemingly less bothered about splurging.

Until he encountered you, when he was out on a late night walk, on a grocery run and rather just wanted to have a day doing a regular routine after just doing another one of his touring, he bumped into you as you were actually there to get some bandages, your form covered by baggy clothing yet Argenti recognized the young lady that once helped with his classes.

His gracious smile as he practically ways pleasantly surprised how different you turned out, his beautiful features tinged with concern when he say the wounds on your face, seeing your puffy eyes.

He was slightly relieved to hear that you just got the wounds from an ‘accident’, and he offered to take you back to his place out of the kindness of his heart after hearing that you didn’t have a place to stay in at the moment. Back home he cared deeply, cooing as he gently helped you with your wounds despite your concerns of leeching off of him, he only adamantly refused to let you do anything.

Argenti, who was rather surprised at himself, he found himself actually enjoying caring and nursing you, maybe it made him think back to the younger years, maybe a rekindle of the small liking he had for you, his cheeks flushed with a slight fluttering pink, his feelings confirmed after he texted Stelle and Caelus about his dilemma, the twins urging him to keep you in contact.

Argenti, not suspicious at how you wore baggy clothes, even in the hot weather, how you covered your skin, how you grew increasingly paranoid as he let you stay in the guest room he made for you, his confusion when he noticed the increasing number of unanswered phone calls and messages on your phone that you turned off.

Until one day, he returned to his home, smiling all giddily as he got takeout from the restaurant he remembered you recommending to him, yet he found the front door opened, Argenti quickly abandoning the food to find a man standing over you, your hair clenched in the man’s hand, your face beaten, you sobbing and shaking in fear.

Argenti only intercepting your abusive ex while you were in shock at how fast Argenti didn’t hesitate to punch your ex, before you snapped back to your senses and called the police.

And the police were quick, an actual struggle to get Argenti off of your ex until your ex’s face was more bashed in than a crumpled piece of paper. Argenti quick to return to your side and not leaving your side as your wounds were tended to.

And to Argenti’s surprise, to hear that you were actually pregnant, his face more worried about your health and guilty about not coming to your rescue earlier.

Argenti just pleading for you to stay in his home, adamant about letting you stay rather than you having to go through the trouble of contacting your family or bothering a friend for a couch to crash on.

Argenti, who’s pouty yet patient about you rebuilding your esteem, or even to go into a relationship, wounds still remain from your abusive relationship. Slowly over time, Argenti’s affectionate gestures getting you out of your shell and getting to know him again, and he gets to know about you.

Argenti is immediate to call in a favor from his friends to get a high-end doctor to check on your status of your pregnancy, if any of the abuse you suffered harmed the baby’s health, to his relief, both you and the baby were fine.

Even with your protests in him spending his money on you, he only spend it anyways to buy you whatever your cravings wanted, getting blankets, clothing, he was spoiling you with an eagerness like a doting boyfriend.

Argenti is incredibly touchy when you allow him, a light linger of being so touch starved from a relationship where you did everything while your ex constantly ignore of bluntly cheats on you while spending money you worked hard for, Argenti’s affectionate gestures making you feel so emotionally constipated that you cried in his arms while he only cradled you, assuring you that you are always beautiful to him.

Argenti never shuts up about the baby, even if the baby is not his own, he is still gushing over the baby and you, like everywhere he goes, he’s talking someone’s ear off about the baby, he’s definitely the type to download an app about the baby’s progress and showing it all excitedly to his friends.

Argenti having to go on a fashion trip, reluctant to part with you despite you assuring him that you are fine, as the baby isn’t even due until a month later, just enough for him to come back just in time.

The press going wild about Argenti mentioning the baby and in shock, gossip tabloids are eating this up and making assumptions that Argenti had a secret relationship, even his friends are caught off guard until they realized,’Oh wait, Argenti is just taking care of her… good for him,’

Argenti, who’s about to go on stage with a stunning outfit, before he got a text message from you, his entire being paused as he tuned out everything around him the moment he sees the message,’Gone into Labor,’ Argenti not realizing that he was being called to the stage, instead he practically runs out of the venue while security and paparazzi chase after him while the hat he was wearing flew off of him as he was running to get the first flight back to you, like man he did not care, he was rushing back to you no matter how late it was.

Argenti’s stunt, and the photos of him fleeing the scene with security stumbling over themselves and shoving paparazzi aside to properly surround and protect him blowing up on the internet as memes or his friends being smacked in the face, jaws dropped to see the memes, they were actually quite comical.

When you woke up, you were greeted with Argenti sitting next to you, his green eyes looking at you while holding your favorite food, junk food and all that you weren’t allowed to consume during your pregnancy, and he soon meet the little one after he gave you numerous kisses on the forehead and nuzzling your head against his chest all tenderly.

Argenti was practically like a father already with how he was so focused on the nurses showing him how to properly swaddle the newborn, but still he was fawning over you, like every step and he’s looking over to you like a giant dog perking up at the sight of their playmate.

He has so many photos of the baby, he was distraught about missing the birth and just being so saddened that he wasn’t their to hold your hand or giving you all the hugs and affection you needed, even if you were slightly thankful that Argenti didn’t see you screaming bloody murder during the contractions.

Argenti is obsessed with your mom bod, no matter if you are breastfeeding in private, you trying to rest yet simultaneously worried about your figure, self deprecating comments about how fat you looked, Argenti only feels offended on your behalf and holding you captive in a cuddle until you loudly proclaim yourself to be beautiful, Argenti smiling all softly at how beautiful your new curves look, how much more comfortable in your oversized clothes and loose bra that’s just cupping your milk-heavy breasts.

Argenti, learning how to dad, being on the floor to join his new child, seeing your child resembling mostly you, and he loved your kid regardless of the father, Argenti proud to wear a baby sling and comedically oblivious to your baby trying to root and being confused that Argenti’s breast is not giving any breast milk.

Argenti is doing a family cuddle, and he’s holding the baby while he holds you, just kissing your cheek all to softly while he’s pouty that he can’t kiss the baby’s cheek, but as soon as he could, he will.

Argenti just urging you to rest while he goes prepare a bottle, even if he needs beauty sleep, he’s going to the bassinet and cradling your baby until the babe goes back to sleep after being fed and comforted.

Argenti, who after some time considering, bemoaning to Stelle, Caelus, Boothill, practically his closest friends, they all suggest that he should finally tie the knot if he feels so strongly about you, totally misunderstanding the fact that he had a shrine of you in his private jet, the fact that he immediately targeted your ex as soon as he received word from his security that your ex gotten out of prison, everything he did he did surprisingly quietly for a guy that is so easily trusting.

Argenti, after getting a wedding ring, brought you to an ideal location, where he held out a bouquet of flowers and roses and the ring, and confessing his feelings, and then pleasantly in awe when you accept.

Argenti already gushing over how beautiful you were and already dreaming about you is a dress that will enhance your beauty to him, and how you and him will spend your days together and raising the cozy family you have.

It might be best for you to calm him down on his gushing before he tries to plan for your chubby faced still sleepy baby to be the ring bearer. Argenti is just on his knees and pleading for you to let ‘our’ baby be apart of the ceremony.

(Can you tell I like fluff yandere stuff-)

By the time you pad downstairs in jeans and an airy blouse, the morning has begrudgingly made a space for you in between its sense of purpose and quiet watchfulness. You set about making breakfast and more coffee, nudging the kitchen awake. You say good morning to the toaster and the butter bell and the kettle on the stove and purposely ignore the dishwasher, which has been giving attitude since the weekend.

You’re murmuring quietly to a pancake when Wakatoshi clomps back in, hanging his hat on the hook by the door.

“Good morning,” you greet, offering up your cheek, which he kisses along with a heavy hand on your hip.

“Does the pancake ever talk back?” he wonders aloud, looking over your shoulder into your cast iron pan.

“Not yet,” you reach for your spatula and grin up at him, “which is what makes it such a good listener.”

He hums thoughtfully and squeezes your waist with his big hand before turning away to reach for plates from the cupboard.

Breakfast passes in conversation about the farrier visiting in the afternoon -- some horses are due for new shoes -- between bites of food. Toshi disappears out the back door to start the rest of his day and you load dishes into the dishwasher. It grumbles to life after a swift kick to the bottom left corner. You’ll have to call the plumber before the weekend.

You’re feeling halfway back to yourself again when you settle into your creaky wooden office chair. It’s nearly the end of the month, which means today is for paying bills and making calls. It’s not nearly as much of a task as it was when you first took over the business side of the farm. Then, you’d had to wade through fifty years of an unintelligible filing system and re-negotiate deals that Wakatoshi’s grandparents had made just as long ago. You’ve always had a way with numbers and a sense for business; it’s the local politics that gave you trouble. People this far into farming country simply don’t trust outsiders, no matter if they’re married to the local golden boy.

Wakatoshi says it had been the same for his father, coming in as an outsider and marrying the beloved daughter of a beloved family. That’s why he’d left, when Toshi was just a kid, never having managed to really feel at home in the community or on the farm.

“But he didn’t have the advantage of your smile,” he’d joked, poking the corner of your mouth gently as you lay in bed late one night a couple of weeks after your wedding.

You’d giggled, swatting his hand away and burying your face into his broad chest. “Do you really think they’ll like me?” you asked in a small voice after a quiet moment.

“They’ll love you. Just like I do.”

You wouldn’t quite say they love you, but the town has at least grown to tolerate you after you’d asserted yourself into their daily lives. Miss Betty at the feed store still doesn’t give you a discount on grain like she had your mother-in-law, and Mary Fletcher still calls you a gold digger behind your back. But at least you’ve made good enough friends with her cousin Amber, who boards her horse in your stables and comes by almost every weekend, to hear about it.

You begin to sweat as the summer announces that it’s still here in the late morning and turn on the rotating fan in an effort to stay cool. The dial of the old rotary phone whirs under your fingertips as you call up the bank, one bare foot bouncing in the air where your leg dangles over the armrest of your chair and receiver cradled to your ear.

It’s a tedious conversation with Laurie, the one and only bank teller, whose daughter is going off to college in just a couple of weeks, that carries you over into lunchtime. You eventually manage to steer her in the direction of the purpose of your call, learning, amidst tidbits about her daughter’s roommate and her son’s soccer tryouts, that your check to the vet had bounced because of an error on the bank’s end. Thank God.

“Shit, that woman can talk,” you breathe when the receiver is safely in its cradle, and Laurie won’t threaten to wash out your mouth with soap for using foul language.

With a deep exhale, you allow your head to fall onto the back of the chair, languishing in the buzzing heat. For the millionth time this summer, you think back to your tiny city apartment, with its shitty water pressure and shitty commute and heavenly air conditioning. What you wouldn’t give….

Well, you wouldn’t give up Wakatoshi, for one.

And you’d had that, with him. You fit him into your tiny shower, washing each other’s bodies and then fucking on the bathroom counter when he couldn’t figure out how to finagle his limbs to fit. He kissed you every morning before work, pressing a packed lunch into your hands.

He proposed under your favorite oak tree in the park at peak foliage, asking you to marry him and move back to his home. You said yes.

You meant it.

But, God. This heat.

The afternoon drags you down, oppressive and lingering, and you find yourself incapable of thinking anymore.

You pass Wakatoshi on your way across the driveway and give him a brief wave, your ring of keys hanging off your middle finger.

“I’ll be back for dinner,” you call as he takes off his hat and runs his fingers through his sweaty hair.

He watches the way your legs propel you up into the elevated cab of his truck, loaded with some buzzing anxiety to move, even through this thick air.

“Okay,” he says.

The first summer you knew Wakatoshi, he invited you to visit home with him for a week. You weren’t together yet, still dancing on the periphery of a relationship with that youthful arrogance of those barely touching adulthood. Halfway through the six-hour drive from the city, he pulled over at a farmstand and bought peaches and lemonade. You ate them in the bed of his truck parked under a maple tree, boughs flush with green and peach juice slipping down your chin.

These grocery store peaches aren’t quite as tender --  you’re just too far North to get them really fresh -- but they’ll do. Still, you worry they’ll bruise as you set the paper grocery bag on the passenger seat next to the bakery box already there. You stand there for a second dumbly, trying to think of a better way to pack them in among your other groceries so they won’t bump around, until the afternoon sun has sunk into the top of your head so it feels like your brain is melting to the inside of your skull. Feeling a little foolish, but otherwise at a loss, you buckle the grocery bag and the box into the seat.

That makes you grin to yourself and snort a giggle as you slam the passenger door and circle around to the other side of the truck. The engine turns and complains for a second before giving in.

Sometimes this is all you need to put yourself back in your body. This little ritual of grocery shopping by yourself -- driving with the music turned up, reading ingredient labels, watching the deli counter guy slice half a pound of provolone. That mundanity, that routine of an adult woman who buys her own groceries, puts everything else in perspective.

You’re here because you want to be. Because you chose to be.

You come to a decision.

Wakatoshi doesn’t pick up the phone when you call on your way out of town, but that’s to be expected. This time of day, he’s most likely out with the horses, and cell reception gives out only a quarter-mile into the pastures. The call goes to voicemail, and you smile to yourself as his recorded voice instructs you to please leave a message. The tone beeps.

“Hey, I’m headed home now. I’ll be there in, uh, about fifteen? Anyway, meet me down at the pond for dinner. Maybe… six-thirty? I thought we’d do something a little special. Okay, I love you!”

The pond is at the East edge of the property, fed by a brook that bubbles out of the foothills. On the side opposite of where the horse pastures end, there is a willow tree that stretches and drapes down to trace the surface of the water. It is under that willow tree that you unpack your picnic basket, pouring white wine into thermos mugs as the low sun streaks through branches.

The heat of the day is finally breaking, giving way to a cacophony of peeper frogs that you can normally only hear distantly in the house. Here, it fills your mind and allows you to think of nothing else but watching the distant silhouette of your husband crossing the pasture towards you. He’s backlit, long shadow reaching across the fence long before he does. You watch him walk in an easy, rolling gait through long grass, watch him hop the fence like he was born for it.

And he was, you remind yourself. He was born for these wide spaces and nature smells. Where you must find space for yourself in the uninhabited corners of the farm (the office, the Eastern edge, the kitchen), he fills the rest as naturally as water fills the pond.

He says your name at the edge of the willow tree, ducking under a bough.

“Hello, love,” you say and smile and pat the blanket next to where you’re sitting.

Your husband sits, folding his legs under him like a little kid. It makes your heart feel a little tender as you tuck yourself into his side and explain your meal: sandwiches and fruit, cherry pie and wine for dessert. He thanks you simply, bending down to kiss you in that slow way that caught you like honey in a trap that first night in front of your apartment building, all those years ago. He tastes like vanilla chapstick.

You eat. Wakatoshi tells you about his day. About the farrier's visit and fixing a leak in the chicken coop’s roof.

“Wakatoshi,” you say, leaning forward to pick at the grass as he works the stone out of a peach with his pocket knife. He hums, deft in his work but listening. “What would you say about having a baby?”

He makes a sharp noise of pain and you look over, wide-eyed, to see he’s sliced clean through the peach and into his own palm. The blood wells before your eyes, mixing with peach juice as you gasp and lunge for the paper napkins in the basket.

“You have to be more careful! What if you seriously--” “Yes,” he cuts you off as you’re taking his hand in both of yours, setting the fruit and knife aside, and wadding up the napkins to stop the bleeding.

“What?”

“I’d say yes to having a baby.” He’s looking right at you with those hazel eyes, the expression in them so close to reverence it stuns you.

“Oh,” you breathe, staring straight back.

At that exact moment, the setting sun glows orange at the top of the pasture hill, streaking Wakatoshi’s cheek with gold through the willow branches. All the breath is gone from you, your head gone light from having this question you’ve mulled over for weeks answered so simply.

His uninjured hand finds your cheek, tucks stray hair away from your face.

“Are you asking? Do you want to have a baby?”

“I-- Yes. I’m asking.”

He smiles, soft as the cattails that sway at the opposite edge of the pond, and leans in to meet your lips with his. You let yourself sink into it for a moment, unable to stop smiling against his mouth, but pull away to further inspect the slice across his palm. He lets you, his fingers curled gently inward while you dab away blood and rub a gentle thumb on his wrist, but his gaze never wavers from your face. It’s intense-- almost like how it was when you first knew him, but with an undercurrent of affection that makes your chest warm.

“It doesn’t look too deep,” you conclude, folding up some clean napkins and pressing them to the wound. “But we should clean it--”

“It can wait.”

“But it could still get infected, what if--”

“It can wait,” he interrupts again, insisting with gentle obstinance. The next words are low in his chest. “I can’t.”

You don’t get back to the house until late, August constellations suspended thickly overhead. It’s like you’re kids again and the barn cat is your mother, watching disapprovingly from her perch on the porch railing as you sneak in after curfew, wine-tipsy and elated. Your husband crowds in the door after you, handsy even after you’ve done nothing but touch each other all evening. You pull him into the kitchen and make him wash his wound thoroughly, your thumbs rubbing into the meat of his palm.

“I hope our daughter has your eyes,” he says. He’s close, his own eyes finding yours in the almost-dark.

“A daughter, huh?”

“A daughter. She’ll be just like you.”

“And what am I like?” you ask, coy, looking up at him through your lashes in the starlight streaming in the window.

Wakatoshi leans forward gently, resting his brow on yours. “You are,” he swallows thickly, eyes fluttering closed, “you are the world.”

guardians of the galaxy (2014) prompts

Form glistening with droplets, the journey from the water's edge had taken half the length of the equivalent trip pitched in the opposite direction. Not that it was difficult to discern a reason for why that could be the case as he trekked along the sand, but the figure lounging at ease beneath the shade of a parasol certainly gave away more than a few helpful hints.

Moving forwards, before the bright sunlight had the opportunity to bother Miguel, he was already diving for the shade, greeting his lover with a kiss made only slightly colder from swimming around in the surf. "Did you miss me?" Choosing to tease, whilst only half expecting an answer, what happened next proved to be most captivating as, just before he motioned to lie down on a towel, Miguel spotted the reaching of her hands, said nothing beyond a grunt as she helped herself to one of his worn palms, and... continued.

Not in the manner Miguel would've imagined at first, naturally, but this was certainly preferable, especially as she elected to take the emboldened step of sticking it right where she intended for him to explore all alone. Grateful for the message, and the promise packed into them, per the one that she's snagged, Miguel wills his caught hand to open gradually, bones and joints stretching and spreading apart as he turns it off, gently massaging her right breast, whilst taking care to point out;

You were seething. Her hand brushed over his arm as she laughed at something he said. Becca was the year bellow you and Scott and currently despite knowing he’s taken, she’s flirting up a storm. You felt your claws extend as your body started shaking violently.

“Shit what are you doing put your eyes away!” Stiles face came into view as if trying to block your view.

“Look at her.” You growled as you took a deep breath closing your eyes to get control.

“Oh I see now. Yeah I understand that one. Yesterday I went grocery shopping with Der and the check out girl literally had the nerve to give her number to him in front of me! I swear he’s too hot to be in public.” Stiles huffed in annoyance.

You looked over to Scott and she was pressing her chest to his upper arm as she clung to it. You didn’t care that Scott looked uncomfortable because he was still letting out happen.

“I’m gonna rip her throat out with my teeth!” You growled as she tried to go for her getting the attention of Scott.

Stiles grabbed you so fast you would’ve probably been shocked if it weren’t for the violent anger you were currently feeling. You felt two people grab you from behind dragging you off quickly.

“Let me go!” You screamed as they dragged you into the boys lockers room.

“Y/N calm down!” You heard Lydia shout from the door. Your eyes snapped to hers with a snarl as you threw off both people holding you.

As you were about to get out you ran into a solid chest that quickly spun you back into the locker room. You were about to launch again but his voice snapped you out of it instantly.

“Kneel!” You felt to the floor instantly, kneeling with you eyes to the ground. Oh no, you were in trouble.

“S-She was touching you…” You whimpered, looking up at him through your lashes. You could feel yourself slipping into little space. This was bad.

“Baby girl we’ve been over this. You can’t just lose it in the middle of school. Now look, you’ve switched I can smell it.” He signed as he started crouching to look you in the eyes.

“I-I’m sorry Da-” You quickly looked around the room and realised all eyes were on you.

“I-I wanna go home.” You gasped as you tried to avoid your pack mates eyes.

“Baby you’ve got a test later, you can’t.” Scott sighed sympathetically as he scooped you into his arms.

“What’s wrong with her?” You heard Liam ask, the question made you tense in Scott’s arms he must’ve felt because he looked away from you. Scott’s eyes let’s Liam’s flashing red in a warning before Stiles started speaking.

“Nothing wrong with her!” He snapped angrily before he approached you and Scott.

“Hey Princess, can you do me a favour?” Stiles asked softly as he bent down in front of you.

“W-What?” You stuttered as you moved out head away from Scott’s chest to look at Stiles.

“Can you go with Lydia to my car to get me a lollipop? If you want you can get one while your there?” He spoke sweetly his smile making you cheer up instantly.

“R-Really?” You giggled wiping your eyes.

“Yep come on sweetie let’s go see what flavours they have!” Lydia caught on quickly, reaching out to you with her hand. You happily took it as she took Stiles keys and lead you out of the locker room.

Scott stood up and brushed himself off before crossing his arms, taking his alpha stance. Everyone straightened up and waited for him to talk.

“She’s a little. I haven’t got time to sit and tell you everything that it entails but I’m gonna have Stiles print off information, rules and schedules. All I can say right now is sometimes she is like a child and needs more care. As her pack that shouldn’t be hard for you to adjust to. If anyone has a problem with it once they’ve read everything then you can leave the pack.” Scott informed them with a serious face, everyone was shocked. Scott had never told anyone they could leave no matter the situation.

“I know what it is an I have no problems. I’ll explain it to Liam later at lunch.” Mason smiled softly earning a smile from Scott.

“I’m gonna take a guess and say Lydia probably knows considering she reads too much for her own good.” Stiles snorted with a smiles before turning to Malia.

“You good Malia?” Stiles asked when she just stared at the floor with wide eyes.

“What was she gonna call you?” Malia suddenly asked and a smirk took over her entire face.

Mason and Stiles started laughing as soon the question was out her mouth. Scott closed his eyes, tipping his head back with a blush spreading over his cheeks.

“Daddy.” He muttered before dropping his head to look at his pack mates.

“Kinky.” Malia laughed as she wiggled her brows earning a halfhearted glare from Scott.

After a few more questions Lydia walked back in with you in tow except now half your hair was in two tiny space buns, the rest of your hair was down. You also had a lollipop stick protruding out of your fleshly glossed lips.

“Don’t you look cute kitten.” Scott chuckled as you let go of Lydia’s hand and ran into Scott’s arms.

His arms were the safest place in the world to you. No matter what happens you know at the end of the day you’ll be fine as long as Scott will hold you. He was your home.

You showed him your lollipop with a grin, he chuckled and nodded his head with approval. He flicked one of your Space buns making you gasp with a glare directed at him.

“Daddy don’t do that! Lydia did them perfect!” You huffed angrily before running back to Lydia. She gave Scott a playful scolding look as she cuddled you.

After Lydia fixed your hair and you finished your lollipop Scott picked you up in his arms before sitting down in a bench with you in his lap. He stared into your eyes with so much love it made you blush.

“Right come on baby girl, Daddy needs you to come out of little space for now. I promise as soon as schools over, we’ll go to your house pick up all your little stuff and spend the night at the pack house and you can be in little space for as long as you want. Okay?” He muttered softly you gave him a pout but figured it was probably for the best.

The rest of the day was pretty uneventful and thankfully no one even registered what had happened earlier in the day. Scott promised he’d stay away from Becca since it clearly bothered you a lot.

The pack was currently split between three vehicle’s; Stiles’ jeep, Lydia’s Prius and Scott’s bike. You were sat on the back of Scott’s bike as he drove ahead to grab the things from your place. Lydia followed the bike whilst Stiles went straight to the pack house.

You arrived at your house with Lydia, Scott and Malia followed. You were yet to slip into little space mostly because without it being triggered you felt nervous too in front of Lydia and Malia. Lydia had been nice to you but you were still unsure whether Malia would be as calm about it.

“Right let’s pick out a few things since it’s Friday today, we can all stay at the pack house all weekend. Come on Princess show me the wardrobe!” Lydia giggled as she dragged you to your room Malia awkwardly following.

“Baby I’m gonna get your other stuff together let me know when you’re done.” Scott called as you heard him scuttling around the house finding things to take. You assumed it was probably your pacifier and your sippy cups maybe a few other bits.

You easily slipped into little space without even realising since everyone made it so smooth and natural. You felt happy that everyone was being calm, it made you less anxious.

“Let’s see…Ooo cute where did you get this?” Lydia asked excitedly as she picked up your pink overall dress.

“I don’t know D-Daddy got it for me.” You muttered shyly but Lydia didn’t make a big deal if anything she looked impressed.

“He has better taste than Stiles that’s for sure.” She snorted before turning both began picking more things to take.

You change in your cream T-shirt, your dusky pink overall dress and a pair or khaki green sneakers. You also threw on your fluffy teddy bear jacket just so you wouldn’t be too cold on the bike. It wasn’t exactly cold where you were but as you’d experienced when on a bike it can get cool you down pretty fast.

If you were human wearing a dress on a bike would be quite dangerous incase you fell off but even then Scott is a good rider and you’d probably trust him anyway. You packed your colouring pencils and colouring book, along with your favourite stuffie and your blanket.

You followed Lydia out your room to see Scott already waiting with a new cream teddy bear backpack. You squeaked excitedly as you put it on with Scott’s help. You’d seen if a few weeks ago but as usually you never managed to save enough before it came off the rack.

“Daddy got it for you a few weeks ago when you did so well in your last test.” Scott exclaimed playfully cupping your cheeks gently as he bent down to place a small kiss on the end of your nose.

“Thank you so much! I love you Daddy!” You giggled happily before throwing your arms around him.

“I love you too baby girl.” He chuckled wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“Right let’s get going they’ve already ordered food and if we don’t get there soon out food will be gone to the savagers.” Lydia grumbled as she looked at her phone. She grabbed the bags and walked out the door with Malia quietly following.

Scott hopped on his bike before you followed suit it was a little awkward because your dress was denim but you made it work before gripping onto Scott’s leather jacket covered waist. He smelt like leather and motor oil and a slight scent of disinfectant either from work or his mom. It smelt like home.

You arrived at the pack house and hopped off the bike quickly before running into the house with a giddy scream. Derek must’ve heard you because his head popped around the door with a smile.

“DerBear!” You giggled running up and launching yourself at him.

“Little one! How are you today?” Derek asked with a soft chuckle as he picked you up with one arm carrying you to the kitchen as Scott, Lydia and Malia followed.

“I’m okay but there was a stupid girl who was all touchy touchy with MY Daddy! Can you believe it!?” You huffed grumpily as you remembered this mornings events.

“So what did you do?” Derek gasped playing along with you annoyance.

“I was gonna rip her throat out with my teeth! But butt head Liam and Malia stopped me!” You growled over at Liam before glaring at Malia who threw her arms up in defence.

“That’s my girl.” Derek grinned proudly as Stiles rolled his eyes.

“Think you’ll find this little angry wolf is mine Hale.” Scott growled playfully as he took you from Dereks arms with a possessive glare on his face.

“Silly Daddy everyone knows that.” You sighed with an eye roll.

“Oooh is that right kitten?” Scott huffed a smile taking over his face.

“Mhmm.” You giggled before placing a chaste kiss on his lips.

“Come let’s go pick a film before food gets here.” Scott laughed before picking you up and carrying you out the kitchen to the front room.

Everyone was so normal and quiet as dinner went by. Despite the fact that Scott would occasionally wipe your face or call you a good girl for eating vegetables you didn’t overly like.

By the end of the film everyone was some how on the big ‘u’ shaped couch. Cory was sat on Mason’s lap on the left edge, Malia and Lydia were sat in the corner together under a blanket, you and Scott were sat in the middle of the ‘u’ cuddled up under your favourite blanket, Derek had Stiles on his lap tucked under his arm in the other corner and Liam and Hayden were cuddling at the other edge.

It was moments like this that made you love everything you had even more. You glanced up at Scott with a tired smile. He caught your eyes and gave you the sweetest smile. You reached up, placing a soft kiss on his lips before pulling back.

“I love you Daddy.” You whispered so quietly if Scott didn’t have wolf hearing you of doubted he heard it

“I love you too Princess, so much.” He chuckled squeezing your body tighter to his as if to prove it somehow.

“I’m so lucky to have you and this family.” You muttered, tears springing to your eyes.

“We’re just as lucky to have you baby girl.” Scott whispered lovingly, his hand caressing your face. You hoped the rest of your life could be spent like this. In Scott’s arms, the pack curling up around you and being able to slip whenever, because you know that your pack has your back.

You shrug, leaning over to peer past him as though you’re trying to get a better look at the screen. But he isn’t having it. He plops down into your lap, straddling you as his cold fingers brush over the back of your neck. “Kiss me.” He says monotonously, eyes flickering to your lips for a brief moment.

You weren’t sure whether you should laugh or stop the prank altogether. But he starts pouting as he presses his face closer. “Kiss me, geeez!”

You attempt to pull back but he follows you. You can’t go back any further and his lips are already brushing yours, eyes desperate and brows furrowing. His hands come forward to grasp at your jaw, tilting your chin so that your lips meet. He kisses you, hard and needy.

And he doesn’t stop until you’re out of breath.

Draken → You were draped over the bed you shared with Draken, lazing around after he had returned from the shop. He made his way around the room, discarding his work clothing and changing into something more comfortable. His hands coming up to undo his ponytail, dark hair falling over his shoulders. He was paying you any mind because he had yet to notice your lounging form on the sheets.

You decided that now was a better time than any to pull the prank. With that idea in mind, you sat up to draw his attention. He immediately turned towards you, ducking to give you a kiss. Only for you to put your hand up, your palm pushing him away gently. A stupid grin on your face as you watched his brows furrow, lips ajar as he made an offended expression.

It took him a moment to realize that you had just denied him a kiss. He was stunned. You denied him a kiss—who would’ve thought. He sucked his teeth, giving you a bemused look.

“Oh, uh uh.” He immediately snatches you up, pulling you towards him. His muscular arms tug you closer until you’re flush up against him. “Gimme a kiss right now or else.”

You may giggle and smile and all that, but you’re not going anymore until you give him what he asked for.

Takemichi → “Uh—” he cuts himself off. Eyes wide as he stares at you who has just pulled away before he could give you a kiss. “No way…” he mumbles to himself, mouth hung open in pure disbelief.

Takemichi turns. Hands thrown up as though looking for an answer. He starts thinking about what he could’ve done to make you act that way. He even starts sniffing at his shirt and checking his breath to make sure he doesn’t stink. When he finds nothing that could’ve turned you off, he glances at you who is visibly trying to hold laughter.

He frowns, easily able to read the situation. “You’re pranking me again, aren’t you?”

You don’t reply, trying to bite back the oncoming laughter. But he doesn’t find it funny. Rolling his eyes as he buries his head in his hands. Mumbling, “You think you’re sooo funny, don’t you?” He silently vows that he’ll reject you the next time you try to kiss him. But the second you’re in his face, puckering your pretty lips, he can’t help but give you a peck before realizing that he just broke his self-made promise.

For the rest of the day, he tries to ignore your affection. But he can’t deny you anything, to be honest.

Chifuyu → He gets so offended.

Chifuyu sits there in shock for a second, watching you with a comical expression on his face. Mouth wide open and eyes bugging as he points at himself like me? You don’t wanna kiss me?

He feigns hurt, clutching his chest and falling over. Eyes shut for a moment before he opens one, peeking to see if you’re taking pity on him. When he finds that you’re not, he gives you a bemused glance, picking himself up off the floor and pressing closer.

“C’mon, kiss me.” He says monotonously, forcing himself further into your personal space. He perches himself up on his tippy toes as though trying to ensure that he has some kind of high ground. The second you start to laugh at his nonsense, he begins smiling and pressing even closer. Grabbing at your arm and planting a kiss on your cheek and trying to kiss your lips, but you turn away again.

He frowns again before latching onto you from behind, his arms caging you in. His chest presses against your back, making you bend as you attempt to avoid his gradually grinning lips that are trying so desperately to kiss you.

Baji → “You fuckin’ serious?” His eyes bore into yours. When you don’t reply, he raises his eyebrows, eyes widening further.

He really is shocked; how dare you not kiss him?

Baji takes a moment to just stare at you, lips pursing. His eyes rack over your figure for a second before they settle on your wrist. He raises a single brow, eyes meeting yours. “That’s how you feel, huh?” He chuckles, a bitter smile on his lips. “Gimme my rubber band then.” He holds out a large hand, palm up as he waits for you to give him his ponytail holder.

You immediately clutch your wrist that holds said ponytail holder. You don’t want to give it up—it practically signifies your entire relationship.

“Give it to me,” he makes a gesture with his hand, leaning forward to take it from you. But you pull away. He pauses, wondering how you could have the audacity to deny him his ponytail holder. But then he breaks from his trance, glaring at you as he tries to snatch it from you. “Uh uh, give it ‘ere.”

“No!” You say, trying to conceal how humorous you find the whole ordeal and attempting to escape his reach. But he grabs you by the arm, tugging you closer.

“You either kiss me or you gimme my band back. Your choice.”

Mitsuya → Mitsuya is confused.

You’ve never denied him a kiss before. He doesn’t even know what to say or do. Just staring at you with an unreadable expression. Mitsuya is most likely the more mature of the bunch. So he understands that there may be a good reason as to why you don’t want to kiss him today.

He makes tons of excuses for you in his head, shrugging his shoulders as he turns back to the spread of fabrics in front of him. Returning to his work as he tries not to think about how you didn’t want to kiss him. He ponders if he should talk to you about it now or later. He decides later might be better.

But he doesn’t try to kiss you again. Rather, glancing at you every now and then to see if he can find any visible signs that would explain why you didn’t want to kiss him—maybe you had a bad day, or you just weren’t feeling that good.

You have to tell him it’s a prank. And once you do, he gives you this innocent, almost pouty look like you’ve betrayed him. Tilting his chin up so that you get the hint to kiss him from where he sits whilst you stand. His eyes flicker to your lips and you can just tell me that he really wants to kiss you. And you better kiss him too, you gotta make up for the prank.

Hakkai → He is so offended. Likely more offended than anyone else. A hint of confusion visible on his face. He even checks his breath, which only confuses him further because his breath is minty fresh. He can’t pinpoint the reason as to why you don’t want to kiss him.

His lower lip juts out, eyes glossy as his brows draw up. It stings, but he is purposefully making himself look more pitiful than he actually feels in hopes you’ll quit playing around and give him a kiss. “You don’t wanna kiss me?” He asks quietly.

You falter almost immediately, melting at the cute expression on his face. And he can read you like a book, a grin working its way onto his face. His scar parted as he flashes his pearly whites, “It was a prank, wasn‘t it?”

You tell the truth. And for a second, he considers denying you a kiss in return for your little prank. But he crumbles the second you ask him for a kiss to make up for trying to play him. And he is more than willing to give it to you.

Smiley → “Don’t play with me.” His smile drops. A thick vein gradually appears on his forehead, growing more prominent the more you avoid his kisses.

It eventually gets to the point where he’s had enough. He practically tackles you down, climbing over you and grabbing hold of your wrists as you try and fail to wiggle out from underneath him. “What?” He says. “My breath stink?”

Likely goes off on a tangent, telling a comical story about why his breath stinks if it does—which it doesn’t. He realized you were pranking him about five minutes into it. And he watches you attempt to stifle your laughter from the stupid story he’s telling.

It’s only when you’re good and distracted that he leans down and presses a hard kiss to your lips. His hand comes up to grip the back of your neck, deepening the kiss and biting your lip gently when he pulls away. And just like that, he gets off of you and goes back to whatever you both had been doing before the kiss, completely ignoring you out of spite and ignoring any further advances you try to make. All with that etched smile on his face.

Angry → Also offended. He knows he hasn’t done anything deserving of this reaction. He likely panics and texts the group chat, asking what to do. If there is at least one brain cell in Toman, Souya will likely be able to figure out that you’re pranking him with the help of whoever owns said braincell.

Even if he gets the hint that it’s a prank, he doesn’t have the guts to ask. Because if it happened not to be a prank, he wouldn’t want to say it was when it wasn’t. So he ends up sitting there in silence, glancing at you every now and then, unsure of what to do.

At some point, he tugs at your sleeve to grab your attention. And he can’t help but to lean towards you, wanting nothing more than to close the space between you both. His lips are only a breath away when he asks, “Why won’t you kiss me?” His eyes focused solely on your lips. “Did I do something wrong?”

He might slip up and kiss you anyway if you don’t beat him to it.

“Did Tomura lose a tournament?” He shakes his head and lets his hands trail down your back to rest on your hips. “Hm, you burnt a shipment of Endeavor merch?” He chuckles but shakes his head again and you pout. “Okay then did you beat a hero and give your speech about how heroes are overrated and blah blah blah?” You squeak when he pinches your ass but can’t help but giggle after. “Nope, you done guessing?”

“Fine, will you tell me what has you, the great Dabi, in such a great mood?” “I came to a realization while I was out.” “I wonder what that realization could be.” “Shh, I came to the realization that we have been together for almost seven years.” “And that’s what made you so happy?” You ask him as he lifts you up onto the counter, caging you in.

“No, it’s what I thought of after that. You’ve been there for me no matter what. The news labels me as a ‘dangerous and psychotic villain’? You welcome me home with a mug of hot chocolate. I came out to everyone as Endeavor’s formerly dead kid and you treat me like one of the characters from your fanfics.” You lean into his patchwork palm as he caresses your face, a soft smile on your lips.

“I’ve had a shitty life, but I wouldn’t change a thing if it meant I never met you.” Your smile grows as he plants kiss after kiss on your face, avoiding your lips until you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a kiss. “Even though you ran away from me when we first met?” You bring up as the memories resurface.

You had been seventeen and were walking home from a night shift at your local convenience store when some thug tried to mug you before being swallowed up by blue flames. When you turned to run from the burnt man, you had come face to face with a white haired teen with stitches on his face. He told you to be more careful and tried to leave, but you stopped him and begged him to walk you the rest of the way. He shook you off and ran from you, but you noticed over the next few days when you had a late shift, someone with white hair always followed you until you reached your house.

“Well, I had just turned a creep into charcoal in front of you. Can’t blame a guy for running.” “Mm no, I can’t blame you. I’d run too if some gorgeous guy had asked me to walk him home after I saved him.” You peck his lips again and lean your head on his shoulder as the two of you sit there in silence.