Takata Mashiho Oneshots

A Short Fluff

"Good morning," I chirped at Mashiho, my coffee in hand.

Dark circles trace under his eyes and his entire being seems to be five shades duller as if he'd been walking around in a black and white movie.

"I'd kill for a coffee...," I defensively pull mine away and hiss.

"Literally," his voice hit a low pitch, gravely from just waking up. "Did you just hiss at me?"

"You're not having my coffee," I say walking around the kitchen away from him.

"Don't make me fight you for it," he yawns.

"You'd lose, Takata Mashiho."

"Are you challenging me?" he smirks.

"Warning you." I correct.

"What can I give you for a cup of coffee?" he closes in on me, using every bit of charm he has. The mug at my lips and I stifle a cough as the hot liquid catches in my throat. "What did you just imagine?" he teases.

"Nothing, it's just that I love you." I place the mug behind me as a walk into his embrace. He's still warm from the bed.

Mashiho's arms return the embrace, his chin on my shoulder. "How could I ever forget about you," He whispers.

"Forget about me?" I pull away. As Mashiho's clutches my coffee mug. "Mashi! Get your own!"

"I'll give it back on one condition." He says.

"What's that?"

He points with a chubby index finger to his cheek, eyes closed. I close the space quickly, loudly kissing his cheek.

"Mwah!" I take the coffee back.

"You only did that for the coffee." He said. I lean in close again and kiss him on the nose. "You only did that because you felt sorry." I kiss him on the forehead. "You only did that because you wanted to prove me wrong." he smiled. His eyes crinkling under soft cheeks.

"Shut up," I say just before kissing his lips. He hums in amusement.

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