⛧° Cooking classes with Uncle Leo
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content: leo valdez x fem!reader blurb
warnings: probably cursing, bad spanish, not proofread. ig that's it?? lmk!!
a/n: i didn't really like this, but i'm posting it anyways lol. dedicated to covey and @/pinkdiorluvr cuz i know they both love leo hehehe
⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧
You never learnt how to cook. A disturbed childhood with a shitty mortal dad was not the best place to get cooking lessons. Or to learn anything, on that matter.
The point is, cooking skills aren’t something you possess, and that annoys you beyond limits. That took you to asking your best friend, Leo Valdez, for cooking classes. Which he immediately accepted. I mean, who wouldn’t want to teach your crush how to cook?
"So, when can I go to your house?” You asked, which made him snap back to reality from just admiring your features.
“Uh... my house?” He asked, as he completely forgot what you guys were previously chatting about. He was too busy with noticing how the freckles coated your cheeks, and how your black hair framed your face in the prettiest way possible. Oh, he was down bad.
“Are you even listening to me right now, Leo?” You asked, waving your hand in front of his face.
“Uh, yeah, ‘course I am. You were talking about the... cooking classes, right?” He asked, a sheepish smile making his way to his lips. You just rolled your eyes.
“Yes, I am. When can I come to your house, hm?” You asked again.
“Tomorrow at seven sounds good to you?” He asked.
“Yeah, that’d be great.” You answer, smiling softly as well.
“You’re gonna learn how to make the perfect pasta alla carbonara, my dear apprentice. It's one of my specialties.” He said, passing an arm across your shoulders and pulling you to him.
Before you could even pull away so you could leave, he planted a kiss with a loud ‘mwah’ to it and darted off, laughing. You were left confused, blushing and smiling as a toddler who just got a pack of candy.
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Leo stood in his kitchen, a grin plastered on his face as he waited for his best friend’s arrival. He was looking forward to it, since he knew that it was a chance of absolutely zero percent that this whole class didn’t end in absolute chaos.
He leaned against the counter, tapping his fingers impatiently, trying to figure when you’d finally come, what clothes you’d be wearing, what shoes you’d wear and in which way your hair would be. Would it be down? Would you put it in a ponytail? A bun? A braid?
Oh gods, he was such a sucker for that damned daughter of Poseidon.
Eventually, he heard the rhythmic knock on the door, telling him that you were finally there, much to his happiness.
“Come on, Valdez, it’s freezing out here!” You complained, just when he finally opened the door and you barged inside, escaping the snow from the outside world. You were in a black coat, wine-red leggings, gloves and a cute scarf so your nose didn’t get too cold. “Finally! Thought you’d leave me out there to die.”
“I’d never do that, princesa. I mean, at least not today, I need an assistant.” He said jokingly, poking your shoulder and teasing you as you took your coat off.
“I’m gonna punch you, I swear to all the gods that I know.” She threatened. He just smiled and walked towards the kitchen, with you following right behind him. “So, what’re you gonna teach me today?”
“We’re gonna make the best pasta ever – carbonara!” He said happily as he pointed at the counter, which was filled with ingredients for the dish – bacon, eggs, flour and cheese were neatly organized in the counter, ready to be turned into a meal.
“If this goes wrong, I'm ordering a happy meal.” You complained, putting the things you brought to make your favorite dessert, a classic that you learnt with a Brazilian friend of yours – Brigadeiro. It's actually the only thing that you can cook without burning down the whole house.
“First, we gotta make the pasta.” The latino said, and you grimaced.
“Why do we have to make it? Isn't it easier to just, you know, buy the pasta and cook it?”
He shrugged. “Yeah, it’s easier. But making it is so much fun!” He said, with a smile on his face, and started pouring flour on the counter, making a small tower and soon making a hole in it. Then he stopped and looked at you.
“What? Is there something on my hair?” You asked, brushing off your hair, which made Leo laugh.
“No, no. I need you to grab six eggs and crack them here.” He said, gesturing towards the bowl.
“Oh.” You mumbled and picked up the bowl, cracking the eggs in it and being extra careful with the shell. When you finished, you looked at him with puppy eyes. “What now?”
“Put them here.” He said, gesturing to the hole in the flour. You nodded and poured the eggs there. “Now, you washed your hands, right?” You nodded again. “Great. Now, you have to mix the eggs and the flour until we have a smooth dough; the pasta!”
You just nodded and put your hands to work. It was cute, since you didn’t seem to know what you were doing, and it was just so cute the way you were unsure on whether you were doing the right thing or not.
“You’re doing great, y/n/n.” He assured. If you looked up, you’d see a proud smile on his face.
After a few minutes of squeezing and mixing the dough, it was finally ready. You looked up at Leo’s face, a proud smile on your face and shining eyes. Maybe cooking wasn’t really that bad, after all. Not if you had a good teacher and friend around.
He was starstruck. He couldn’t even move. You were just so pretty, flour all over your arms and hands, a little spot on your cheek white from when you rubbed the back of your hand on your face. He wanted nothing more than to kiss you in that moment.
But he knew he couldn’t. He shouldn’t do it. Couldn't risk his friendship with you.
And yet you were so tempting, so pretty like that. In his kitchen, with his apron – which was slightly too big for your tiny frame – and with him.
“So, what do we do now?” You asked, interrupting the trance he was in. He shook his head and blushed, embarrassed to be caught like that.
“Uh... the- the eggs. We need to make the eggs.” He said, blushing after getting caught staring at you. “You can whisk the yolks while I cook the bacon. Is that alright with you?”
“Mhm. You just need to teach me how to separate the yolks.” You said, with a smile.
You two continued the cooking, with Leo cooking the bacons till they were golden brown and crispy while you whisked the egg yolks and the cheese together. It was a fun night, where you ate the food you made – which was delicious, by the way – and had fun with your best friend.
The only out of the ordinary thing was that the whole time you were there, the only thing you wanted was to jump on Leo’s lap and kiss the hell out of him.
And his train of thought was not that far away from yours.
Don't get me wrong, he loved to spend platonic time with you, of course. But he really, really wanted to kiss you.
‘Oh, for my father’s sake, what I wouldn’t give to kiss her.’
“...what?” You asked, your face clearly redder with his – more than sudden – confession.
You never thought he’d want to kiss you, much less give yourself the hope that maybe someday that’d happen. No, it was selfish, and you knew – or at least thought – that he’d never ever like his best friend.
But here he was, saying how much he’d give in exchange for a kiss.
“Oh, shit- I said that out loud, didn’t I? I’m so sorry, Y/n, you can really pretend this never happened, I just-” AAAAAND he was rambling. Again. So, the easiest way out of that situation was, obviously, shut him up with a kiss.
He immediately melted. His hands stopped flying around his face and went to graze your neck and waist, unsure, but ready to search.
It was one of the best kisses you’ve ever had, and it was definitely the most awaited one. His lips were cracked and raspy, and he tasted sweet like the juice you had.
When you finally pulled away, both of your cheeks were red and there was a smile playing on both of your lips.
“I kinda love you.” You admited.
“Good, ‘cause i love you too, princesa.”
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