Pretty Little Bluff

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No sleep. You sat up in bed, biting at your thumbnail and recalling earlier events. "That's just right, Peach." That's what he said when he finally got around to answering your question- if your addition was enough weight for him.

"Just perfect."

Why'd he say it like that? You moved to cover your face with your sheets out of embarrassment, giddiness building inside you while you kicked your feet as some form of release in the pent of energy you were harboring since then. Since he reluctantly let you off his lap. 

You fell over to your side, opting to hug your stuffed bear, unsure if you were grateful it was Sir Stuffington you were holding. Your face sank into the faux fur of the stuffed animal with your constant sighs, unable to get that look out of your head. He'd successfully burned it into your retinas.

It was burning. That was the closest you'd come to describing it in all the past hours. Burning and what else? You'd figure it out. Sooner than later, preferably. Time ticked on and all you could do was fidget, your legs rubbing together insistently. Ooooh, am I horn-?

Your stomach growled. I'm hungry. No...horngry.

Food first, you decided and found yourself in the kitchen. You rummaged through any and everything, unable to decide on what you wanted to munch on. With a puff, you leaned against the counter, scrolling through your socials looking for any quick things that one: looked appetizing, and two: wouldn't take forever to put together. You were a 'right now' type of hungry, not a 'Oh, I think I'll go to the store for this' hungry.

You found something reasonable, and even better, the rice you needed was already waiting the the rice cooker. It didn't take you long, only having to actively prep a few veggies, shrimp and...half a kielbasa? Your brows scrunched. Why is there only half?... Doesn't matter. You shrugged it off and continued. Silently, you started scolding yourself for making so much, letting your stomach do all the measuring as you cooked.

"Well." You sighed, pulling a bento box from the cabinet above your head. You kept it pushing, if you made that much, it'd make a good lunch the next day. You packed the bento, not wanting to let your stomach do the leading again if you ate first, and set it off to the side. 

Now. You looked back at the food waiting for you on the stove. Fuck using a bowl, you shrugged, eating straight from the pot. Hot but good. You nodded slightly while you chewed, steam pouring from your nostrils as you did.

"That smells nice."

You jumped a bit at the sudden voice. "Tastes even better." You got out after swallowing, looking over at the hero that leaned against the counter. He was in costume. "Pressing matters?" You asked before turning back for another spoonful of food. "Just blowing off some steam."

You hummed in response before saying "Should've asked for help, I'm right down the hall."

"You don't mean that." He chuckled. "You'll never know now, huh?" You lifted a brow. "I guess not." Yagi reached over, taking hold of the end of your spoon. "Noooo." Your expression turned to fear, your grip on the utensil tightening for dear life. "Just a taste, I promise." Yagi hushed.

You grabbed up the bento you made, pushing the wooden box into the center of his chest. "Here." You pushed again, watching as he took the bite he warned you he would from your pot. "Take it."

"Did you make this for me?" He took hold of the bento, setting back on the counter to his side. "No. I made too much and that's what's left over."

"Right." He rolled his eyes. "I'm serious." You crossed your arms, turning your head away. "I've always made too much."

"Tsundere."

"What did you just call me?" You turned back, not enough time in the world did he leave for you to process your chin and cheeks caught between his thumb and forefinger. Your head was brought just close enough while he closed in the gap, pressing his lips into your cheek. "I said I love it when you cook too much."

You cursed the nervous giggle escaping you, your hands coming up to meet his forearm.
You felt hot all over again, eyes elsewhere when you asked why he did that. "To say thank you." He kissed you again, pressing into your cheek just enough to force your eye closed this time. "It's some payback from earlier." He breathed against your skin. "I was-!" You brought your eyes to his. Just barely visible blue peeking from around your raised cheekbone. "I was just teasin'!"

"That's mean." He faked a hurt tone. "I- No!-" His lips met you again. "You're telling on yourself, Peach. You wouldn't have come to 'help'."

"I-I would've! I-"

"You're so flustered," His hand smoothed across your back, his fingertips pressing into your side and pulling you closer. "I've hardly even touched you." You couldn't remember the last person to make you freeze like that, you felt his mouth find new purchase on the crane of your neck. "You're the prettiest bluff."

You felt your muscles going limp, save for the hand that betrayed you. You reached up, finding your fingers running through his locks. Warm shivers shook you from the inside out with each new inch of skin he found. 

His name poured from your lips exasperated and needy. He hummed against you, only for your words to be caught in some entanglement of not wanting to say anything and some unknown way of expressing the emotions building in the center of your chest. "I." Stuck on repeat while he took a breath from you with each touch. "You don't have to put it in words. It feels better that way."

"But...but I want to." You finally got out. "Hm? Tell me." He brought you closer, having been supporting you almost completely the entire time. "I don't...." You sighed. "I'll give you some time." He looked at you before closing his eyes, forehead pressed against yours.

"Please." You nodded. "Please, Toshi."

"Don't beg," His head shook ever so slightly, you wouldn't have seen it. "You don't have to beg. Anything for my you."

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