#would he like tres leches? maybe??

[crxss01]

— PRINCESA

pairing ʚɞ… 42!miles morales x reader

summary ʚɞ… you came into miles’s life and he makes sure that you, his princesa, never leave it.

warnings ʚɞ… miles being a lil stalker (it’s okay though, is miles), you have parents that move around too much, cursing, miles with a sweet tooth (he loves tres leches), mature themes (making out + mentions of drugs but you two aren’t the ones to do them), the relationship is a little toxic but not too much, major obsession with miles’s eyes (they’re just adorable).

m.list, main m.list ʚɞ

translations ʚɞ… mi princesa: my princess bonito: handsome/pretty boy eres tan bonita: you are so pretty ahora solo tengo tantas ganas de besarte: right now i just want to kiss you so badly siempre estás en mi mente: you’re always on my mind.

a/n ʚɞ…recap of how you met miles, how you started dating + how it is going, heavily based on princesa by jay roxxx. this is supposed to be a fic of celebration for 1k followers so i hope you enjoy and sorry that it couldn’t be published on sunday like i said i would start doing.

the first time you met miles was when you were walking in the hallway during your first day at visions. you were tired of being the new girl every time you moved, but you didn’t have much of a choice.

he was leaning against your assigned locker and he had an annoyed expression on his face as he glared off into space, it was kind of intimidating and you were skeptical to approach him but you really needed to put all the books in your locker before you got a back injury from the weight.

the boy was handsome though, he had the prettiest hazel eyes you had ever seen. the softest features too, except for his jawline that looked pretty sharp. his hair was braided and the braids looked good on him, a little too good maybe.

you decided to approach him, maybe his expression was the only intimidating thing about him.

and you thought right.

“excuse me, can you move?” you nodded at all the books in your arms. “i need to put these in there.”

the boy snapped out of whatever daze he was in and his eyes focused on you, his hazel eyes captured your own and he seemed so comfortable at holding eye contact while you couldn’t handle his stare and looked at the side of his head where a piece of your locker showed.

“please?” you tried again, it was your first day and you truly didn’t want any drama right now.

the boy cocked his head to the side, the side where your eyes were staring at like he was chasing for your gaze. those hazel’s captured your eyes again and there seem to be amusement in them, the smirk that grew on his face proved you right.

“of course, ma.” he said, and moved over onto the next locker. “there you go.”

you offered him a small smile and a thank you before turning you attention to your locker. after putting the books in, you left but you couldn’t help taking a look over your shoulder back at him when you where about to take a turn.

your eyes met him and he offered you another smirk then he was out of sight when you took the turn.

that was the first time of many that you would find the nameless boy leaning against your locker, making you ask him to move each time. you didn’t have any classes with him and visions was a big school so you didn’t see him around among the crowd of students unless he was there leaning on your locker.

again, you were making your way to your locker ready to see miles again and ask him to move so you could take out something from your locker but this time he was the one who wanted to ask something.

“there you are, princesa.” he spoke when he saw you.

there was that nickname again. he used to call you ma or mami, but one time he decided that those nicknames did not suit you and so since then he only ever called you princesa. you tried your best at pretending not to like the nickname and failed.

“took you so long, i was starting to worry.” the smirk on his face said otherwise.

“hi.” you said with a small smile. “can you—”

“hold up, princesa.” miles put a finger up, shutting you up instantly. “i have been here for a whole month now, just leaning against your locker and you don’t even ask for my name? or anything at all.”

“if you wanted me to know your name you would’ve told me.” you answered back.

he just stared at you for a long moment with amusement, before his smirk turned into a smile and he spoke. “miles morales.”

“y/n y/l/n.” you said.

“i knew that, princesa.” he said. “and now that we know each other’s names, how do you feel about going out with me this saturday? i’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

“we don’t even know each other.” you furrowed your eyebrows, apart from the small talk that the two had made and his name (now) you didn’t know shit about him. “and you don’t know if i’m with someone.”

“that’s what dates are for, and i know you aren’t with someone. i asked around.” miles shrugged. “so yes or no? or do i still need to convince you some more?”

you just stared at him for a while, his hazel eyes not leaving yours the whole while. finally you gave in, those eyes were just too pretty to deny anything while looking at them. “alright, i’ll go on that date with you. golf ‘n stuff, 6pm sharp.”

miles cracked a smile, and clapped his hands together. “i love golf ‘n stuff. you and i are going to have so much fun there.”

and that you two did. the first date with miles was something that you will always have in your heart, but the eleventh one was your favorite because it was when he finally asked you out.

it was on october 3rd.

miles had asked you out to go to a restaurant, and this was the first time that it was actually a fancy one and not just a fast food one. his uncle had let him borrow his car so that he could drive you both there.

“didn’t you say your uncle had a motorcycle?” you had asked confused when he settled in the driver seat with you on the passenger one.

“he also has a car.” miles scratched behind his ear and you nodded. he was lying, that habit of his was easy to pick up on. “i needed to get the best for mi princesa.”

“your princess now?” you raised an eyebrow. “that’s bold.”

he chuckled but didn’t say anything as he started the car.

when you got there, he opened the door for you and gave you his hand to help you out. you smiled and took it, he was such a gentleman when he wasn’t acting like a bad boy.

as you two sat down at the table for two, you admired the nice decorations and the variety of couples and families sitting and chatting away happily.

“this place is so nice.” you told miles.

“it is,” he nodded with a fond smile, his hazel eyes locking with yours like they always did. “my mom started taking me here when my dad… you know. since i love tres leches so much and she was told this place had the best ones she thought it wouldn’t hurt to give it a try and since then we come here at least once a month.”

you reached across the table and squeezed his hand.

“i hope you didn’t waste your monthly visit with me.”

“don’t worry, we already came here this month.” his smile grew as he turned his hand in your grasp and started holding yours back.

“okay.” you looked down at your hands holding, and they stayed like that while you checked out the menu.

“aren’t you two a sweet couple.” the waitress (who looked around your age, maybe a little older) came after a few minutes and smiled at the two of you. “are you two ready to order?”

both of you didn’t bother to correct the waitress instead choosing to give each other a shy smile.

“i want to drink *whatever you want* and a *whatever food you want*” you spoke up your order when miles nodded at you to go first.

the waitress wrote that down.

“miles morales, i requested something.” he winked. “and apart from that i want an alcohol-free piña colada and a steak with tostones on the side.”

the waitress clearly blushed and you didn’t blame her, that wink had been pretty hot.

“got that,” she nodded, and wrote that down. “anything else?”

“no.” you and miles said in unison.

the waitress left.

the night went on in a blur, but when it got to time to order dessert, you were ready to order your favorite one but you didn’t have to order any because the waitress just came and put it down in front of you.

“i didn’t —” you pointed down, not even looking at it but the waitress just smiled at you and left.

you turned to miles. “did they get the wrong table? i haven’t even ordered this yet.”

miles pointed down at the plate and you looked down.

‘will you officially be mi princesa?’ was written on the side of the plate.

“yes.” you nodded, a big smile taking over your face and miles’s smile could rival your own.

and that was also the night you had your first kiss, right in front of your house.

“thanks for the night, bonito.” you were telling him. “i had so much fun and—”

“bonito?” he interrupted.

you got a little nervous and nodded while turning your gaze away. “well, yea.”

miles took a hold of your chin, turning your face back to looking at him. “look at me, okay? always look at me, got it?” he whispered softly as your eyes came in contact with his.

“i got it.”

“bonito.”

“i got it, bonito.” you smiled.

this time it was him who broke the eye contact, looking down at your lips before looking into your eyes again. “eres tan bonita.” the way he said it had you feeling butterflies in your stomach.

your hand raised to his cheek, caressing it softly with your thumb. “and you are so handsome, such a pretty boy.”

miles’s cheek got hotter under your palm and you silently celebrated your accomplishment.

“ahora solo tengo tantas ganas de besarte…”

“do it.”

and so he did, pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss. your mouths moved in sync with one another, fitting perfectly together like a puzzle, you two were just meant to be and this was another prove of that. his mouth tasted sweet and you wanted that taste to last on your tongue forever, to just be able to enjoy miles’s sweet taste in your mouth even when you weren’t with him.

you both pulled away because sadly oxygen existed and you needed to breathe.

“that was…” you trailed off, not knowing how to describe it.

“yes, it was.” miles agreed. “i’ll meet up with you tomorrow to go back to school, princesa. is that okay?”

“yes, it is.” you gave him one last peck, but it turned into multiple ones because you two just couldn’t keep your lips away from the other after having just one taste.

“bye, princesa.” another peck.

“yeah, bye, bonito.” another one.

“imma miss you, princesa.” another peck.

“i will miss you too, bonito.” another one.

“i have to leave.” another peck.

“i know.” and another one.

that went on until you two realized how late it had gotten and had to leave before your parent(s) killed either of you.

the first time you two said the three little big words was 5 months into your relationship and miles was the first to say it.

you were hanging out in his house in some shorts and a pair of his shirt, his mom was out working for the day and you kinda missed her because she was honestly the kindest and most accepting mother you had ever met.

rio morales was skeptical at first but when she saw the big smile on her son’s face as he introduced you, she accepted you. you knew that the reason she was quick to welcome you was because of how happy her son was.

“princesa, come here.” miles called out to you from his bed where he was laying, one arm behind his head and the other patting his lap for you to sit.

you smiled and ran to him, jumping on his lap and putting your hands on his chest. “yes, bonito?”

the hand that had been patting his lap earlier made its way to your hips and pulled you in until your lips were touching.

the two of you kissed softly, your hands caressing his cheeks. it was a sweet moment and you both didn’t start anything more just wanting to feel this connection between you.

“you know something?” the boy asked as he pulled away.

“what?” you asked, leaving your noses touching.

“siempre estas en mi mente,” there were those hazel eyes again, locking yours in and not letting go. “and i love that.”

“you do?” you rubbed your nose against him.

“yes, and i love you.”

you froze and sat up fully on his lap, miles followed as he sat and put his hands on your hips.

“sorry, princesa. but i really do and i couldn’t hold it in anymore.” he apologized. “it’s okay if you don’t feel the same just yet.”

“no, it’s not that.” you shook your head and a smile grew on your face. “i love you too, i was just surprised.”

miles smiled along with you and pulled you in to connect your lips again. “i love you so much.”

the first ‘big’ argument that you two had was because of his possessiveness over you and the way he wanted to control everything you did. you had enough of that.

“miles, i’m not trying to start an argument with you or anything. i was just telling you that you shouldn’t be so harsh on my friends.”

“yeah, right. your guy ‘friends’, the ones who can’t keep their fucking eyes off of you for one goddamn second?!” he said exasperated.

“miles, you get worked up over nothing. girls look at you all the time and i do not feel jealous because they won’t try anything, why can’t you try and be the same?!”

“oh so now you want me to change? i thought you loved me just like i’am. guess things changed, huh?” his face was close to yours, noses nearly touching.

“i just want you to change that one thing, miles. it is not a big deal, i just don’t think we can keep going if you’re going to be acting like this.” you pushed him away, but he took a hold of your wrists.

“i’m sorry, i think i must have heard you wrong, princesa.” his mouth twisted into a snarl, those beautiful hazel eyes glaring at you. “you’re not leaving me.”

“if i wanted to, you know damn well i could.” you said, glaring right back.

“but you’re not going to, because you know damn well you love me.” he mocked you.

“i do, miles. i really do, but when you get like this i don’t even know anymore.” you shook your head, pulling your arms from his grip because even if he was mad right he would never apply so much pressure when holding you. he would never lay his hands on you like that.

his phone lit up with a message from his uncle and he took it, reading it without you being able to see what it was.

then miles sighed, “look, ma. i think i’m gonna go, it will give you time to think about this dumb decision you want to make and when i come back tomorrow i truly hope you had made a smart choice.” he laid a kiss on the top of your head and left through your window.

“ma? really?” you scoffed.

the time you made up after that argument wasn’t actually the next day, it was a whole week later during school. right in front of your locker, you hadn’t seen miles for that week and you were mad. he didn’t even bother to answer your multiple texts and calls.

“so we talk when you decide that we should talk?” you spoke up when you walked up to him, who was comfortably leaning against your locker.

the hallway was deserted and you were glad.

“i was busy.” he said like it was nothing. “we talk when you decide so, princesa.”

“mmm…” you nodded with pursed lips. “what were you doing?”

“don’t worry about it.” he shook his head and grabbed your head between his hands, his thumb caressing your cheek. “so, did that pretty head of yours make a decision?”

“yes.”

“so, what was it?” his eyes were pulling you in encouraging you to make the right choice.

and they did convince you. “i want to stay with you, but please tone down the jealousy.”

“i don’t get jealous, princesa.” miles chuckled, then placed a kiss on your lips. “but i promise i won’t get that possessive over you again.”

and of course, he lied about that.

now, after 2 years of being together and going into senior year. you couldn’t be more happier.

“stop!” you started kicking your feet and pushing miles away, trying desperately to stop him from tickling you and failing miserably.

“tell me where my control is, princesa and i will stop tickling you.” he kept tickling you.

you had hid his ps control because you wanted all his attention on you, but you were close to wetting your pants from laughing and there were tears running down your face.

“i don’t know where it is…” you lied out of breath as his tickling came to a stop to let you talk.

“liar!” he attacked you again.

“miles!” you screamed, bursting out laughing again.

“tell me, princesa.” he insisted.

“no.” you shook your head.

then his attack method changed and he started leaving kisses all over your face as only one hand was used to tickle you.

“tell me,” he said. “or you won’t get kisses for a month.”

“it’s in the kitchen, on the shelf for the plates.”

living without his kisses for that long was not an option.

ʚɞ reblogs are really appreciated!

taglist ʚɞ @anikaluv @janaeby @queerponcho @laylasbunbunny @onginlove @all444miles @banqnaz @missusmorales @kamisama1kiss @fiannee @sp1dercunt @milesandcorysupermacy @loonalockley @dxille @miguelslefteyebrow @axeoverblade @iheartcats34 (if you asked to be added to the taglist and you’re not on here is because your @ didn’t appear!)

[ariseur]

OKAY SO I SAW YOURE ALSO A LATINA AND , WANT REQUESTS; IVE ALWAYS HAD THIS THOUGT, what if Satoru and Suguru were BOTH dating a foreign reader (Mexican if you wanna be specific) idk I just though it’d be kinda funny when they remember the reader has an entirely culture than them!!

((btw that “BOTH” was about a poly relationship with satosugu, which you obv don’t have to do!!))

FOREIGN LOVE - SATORU GOJO

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ notes - decided to change up my formatting a little bit, just experimenting lol. but!! unfortunately i don’t write for suguru ( yet, i’m still trying to get a better sense on his personality n his character since i’m almost done w/ s2!! ) and i dont write polyamorous pieces!! so i just decided to write about gojo for now 🫶

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ warnings - intended lowercase, mentions of japanese culture that i’m not educated on so lmk if there’s more common stuff i could mention instead, lmk if i missed any warnings!!

✧˖° SATORU GOJO dating a foreign reader would actually be a pretty cool dynamic to experience — anon i like your way of thinking about how gojo ( and geto ) would sometimes forget how their foreigner significant reader has an entirely culture from them because .. they probably would lol

✧˖° if you’re not that well versed in japanese / asian culture and traditions, i feel like he would just like casually bring up certain things or events that go on in japan like obon or setsubun or maybe you’re unsure of certain common etiquette, so he’s confused when you’re like “???”

✧˖° but!! if you’re interested in learning stuff about japanese culture then he’ll be like “you’ve come to the right person” and i can just imagine GOJO making that one tiktok emoji face— like the [proud] one lol. he’d love to tell you all about it though, he thinks you wanting to learn more about his culture is just another sign that you love him, and he wants to know more about you too!! he’s willing to sit with you for hours on end and ask you questions about what you do for your culture.

✧˖° if you’re new to japan and you’re unfamiliar with certain places around town and stuff, i think one of the best things that GOJO likes to show you is the food around town. i dunno about you guys but i literally love takoyaki and yakitori and that’s not even relevant to the headcanon i just felt like sharing that for no reason it’s so good to me. but of courseeee!! we can’t forget about kikufuku, a small daifuku with mochi and we all know how SATORU recommends the edamame or cream flavor, so lord forbid you don’t like it — he’ll be so dramatic 😭

✧˖° howeveerrrrr—!! since anon mentioned about shedding light on reader possibly being a latina or mexican, let’s talk about a hispanic!reader with GOJO, yeah??

✧˖° i love the idea that he can’t handle spice, and i dont even know where it came from and i feel like he probably could handle somewhat spicy foods? but i just love envisioning GOJO freaking out over like a tiny lil poblano chilé or something like that. i’m sure he’d love the food but i feel like he’d be so confused watching you make foods from your culture. like, tres leches??? why are you just soaking cake in milk???

✧˖° i’d say SATORU is a somewhat good dancer .. when it comes to certain songs 😭.. he’s not the worst when there’s some spanish music in the back but he will def try to improvise and will make both of you trip. i think he’d like dancing norteñas but i can just see him doing all these unnecessary dips in the middle of the song because he’s just seen it somewhere. he might even give you a kiss when he dips down a little lower, usually towards the end of the song. and when you call him out on it, he’s just like, “what? i can’t give my baby a kiss?” like the bastard he is ugh i need him rn

✧˖° don’t even get me started on him speaking spanish. he swears he’s suddenly this suavé latin genius once he surprises you with a few words. i think he’d be like that with any language though honestly except i’m pretty sure he knows a little bit of english since someone said he traveled abroad?? but with certain languages, he’ll definitely butcher them a lot lol. in the end, you praise him for trying and that alone results in him giving himself a pat on the back.

✧˖° i dunno about you guys in hispanic households, but growing up the way to shush someone or like a baby or something would be like “ya”. it could also be used in like “ya callaté” which is like “shut up already,”? i’m not sure if there’s a direct translation in english but i think like the closest thing to it in english is kinda like, “enough”, in that context?? so im just imagining you saying it to a dog barking or a baby crying and he’s just confused all “wdym ya ya, are they a horse??”

✧˖° i think you and him would really bond when learning about each other’s cultures, though. it’s a learning experience for the both of you and you unlock a new topic in which you guys can both learn about. you can count on your tour guide, SATORU GOJO—!

𐙚 join my taglist here !!

𐙚 requests are open — june thirteenth, 2024

[avastrasposts]

A Baker's Dozen - Six

Twelve Pedro boys, twelve stand alone short stories, all set in the same bakery.

Hello!

I can't believe it's already the halfway point for A Baker's Dozen, Pedro boy number six is waiting in the wings. But before I let him in I just want to say a massive thank you for all the love all you lovely people gave Ezra. It was a bit sadder than others but there always a chance of him re-appearing...

I'm dropping chapter today seeing as tomorrow is New Year's Eve, from next week I'll be back on my regular Sunday evening posting.

Also, don't miss all the #pickledpena fics that'll be posting on January 1st! And follow @pickled-pena to see them all in their pickled Peña glory.

Happy 2024 all you lovely people!

Series Master List

He puts out the cigarette just before he steps through your door on a quiet afternoon. You’re busy placing some fresh coffee cake in the display case and he’s the only customer in the shop. Crouched down, almost out of sight, it gives you a few seconds to observe him as he looks around the shop. He’s handsome, dangerously handsome, and holds himself with a nonchalant air of confidence that makes you think he’s aware of how good he looks. No man would wear jeans that tight if he didn’t know his body could pull it off, his generous package clearly framed by the crotch of the dark wash denim. A black, short sleeved, shirt stretches across his broad shoulders, one too many buttons undone, yellow aviators nonchalantly hanging from the neckline. And as you drag your eyes away from the freckles of his chest and up to his face, you’re met by his dark eyes, an almost scowl marring his handsome features as he locks eyes with you. 

You stand up, placing the now empty tray on the counter and put your customer service smile on, squashing a nervous squeal in your belly. 

“Hi, welcome, how can I help you?” you say, wiping your hands on your apron as the man approaches. 

“I’m lookin’ for a bakery that does Mexican things, I need a Tres Leches cake,” he says, his eyes leaving yours and scanning the shelves of your display case as you shake your head. His Texas drawl is subtle but the low register of his rich voice emphasizes it and sends a little shiver down your spine.  

“I’m afraid I don’t have any for sale today, but I can make one for you, if you’d like to order?” you reply and you’re surprised when his face seems to fall and he sighs deeply, annoyance rolling off him like the warm scent of his aftershave. 

“Do you know any Mexican bakeries in town?” he asks, “I’m sure yours is good, but I really need the cake today.” He puts his hands on his hips and you’re momentarily distracted by the way his shirt stretches, the buttons hanging on for dear life as his wide shoulders spread even more. 

“Sorry,” you reply, “there’s not exactly a big Mexican community in this town, so no bakeries that do Tres Leches regularly. Maybe you can find another cake that will suit the occasion?” 

The man drops his head, briefly looking at the toes of his dress shoes before he meets your eyes again, his brow furrowed.

“It’s got to be a Tres Leches, sorry.” 

“Then I’m afraid I can’t help you,” you say, shrugging and expecting him to turn around and leave. But instead he remains in front of the counter, looking at you as you start straightening the cups on the counter, just to have something to do, the man’s intense gaze is unnerving.

“Fuck,” he hisses under his breath, sharp enough for you to startle, and his eyebrows shoot up, “Sorry, that wasn’t at you. And thanks anyway.” 

He turns and yanks open the front door, exiting out onto the street where he stops, looking left and right before glancing back at you through the window. He locks eyes with you for a beat, and then he stalks off, long legs in tight jeans disappearing down the street. 

He stays on your mind for the rest of the afternoon, not because of the need for a specific cake, but because of the way he’d reacted to being denied it, disappointment that seemed to hit something more than just missing out on what, you supposed, was a special request from someone close to him. Women, especially brides-to-be, could be very emotional and stressed about the specifics of their cakes, but you’d never heard a man curse when he couldn’t get the cake he wanted. You wonder if you should maybe make a Tres Leches cake, just in case he comes back, but decide against it. There are plenty of bakeries in town capable of making them instead of you, he’s probably not even coming back to your bakery anyway. 

By the next day you’ve forgotten about him, the day running past fast as your shop assistant handles the steady flow of customers that Saturday’s always bring. You’re busy in the kitchen baking the last batches for Sunday and planning the week ahead, getting your orders in. As a spur of the moment decision, you add a couple of cans of evaporated milk and condensed milk, the Tres Leches man popping up in your mind as you scroll through the whole seller's website. . 

On late Sunday afternoon you start cleaning the shop and the kitchen, the foot traffic always dies down the last hour before closing on Sundays and you send your shop assistant home.You use the last hour to reset everything for Tuesday, Monday being your day off. 

The sound of the bell on the front door rings as you’re on your hands and knees in the kitchen, wiping out the back of a counter under your workbench.  “I’ll be out in a second,” you call out to the customer. 

“No rush,” a dark voice comes back to you, the Texan lilt familiar. You stand up so fast you almost bang your head on the bottom of the shelf, stumbling to your feet and smoothing down your apron and your hair. There’s a small mirror on the wall just by the door into the shop, so you give yourself a quick glance, hastily wiping the sweat off your forehead and rubbing away a dusting of flour on your cheek. 

“Hi,” you say as you step into the shop, “how can I help you? I’m afraid I still don’t have any Tres Leches cake.” 

The handsome man is still wearing jeans so tight they look painted on, but this time they’re a light wash denim and his short sleeved shirt is white, the yellow aviators hanging even lower in the deep V of his chest. 

“I wanted to apologize for that,” he says, stepping up to the counter, “And I’d like to order one, if that’s alright?” 

“Sure, that’s fine, I’m closed tomorrow but I could have it for you by Tuesday afternoon if that works?” 

“Whatever suits you,” he replies, some of his earlier confidence coming back as he not too subtly lets his eyes give you a once over. “I’m sure it’s worth waiting for.” 

“Didn’t seem like it on Friday,” you say, biting your tongue as the words slip out. The man gives you an unreadable look, you’re not sure if he's insulted or not. 

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, “that was uncalled for, I’m sure you had stuff going on that made the cake an essential part of your Friday. 

“No, I apologize, I was rude,” he replies, shaking his head, “I was just having a bad day, I…” he trails off, rubbing a large hand over his clean shaven cheeks under his neat mustache, dropping his eyes to the floor before he looks up at you, his eyes suddenly doleful and tired, “I’ve just been a bit homesick lately, and Tres Leches was my mom’s favorite cake, and mine too, she used to make it for my birthday. She passed a few years ago and I just wanted to be reminded of her.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say, “I’d be very happy to make you one, but it probably won’t be as good as your mom’s.” 

“I look forward to trying it though,” he gives you a crooked smile, “All your stuff here looks delicious.” He waves his hand over the display case but he’s looking at you and your apron suddenly feels very warm around your body. 

“S-so Tuesday afternoon works for you?” you ask, clearing your throat and the man nods with a smile, like he knows the effects his looks, and his tight jeans, are having on you.

“What name should I put on the order form?” you ask as you grab a pen to fill it in.

“Javier Peña,” the man replies, stepping forward and leaning on his forearms on the counter, watching you note down his name, “I think you should write down my number too,” he says, looking up at you, “just in case you need to call me, for whatever reason.” 

The image of a baby cow looking up at you through thick lashes flits across your mind as he smiles, his eyes are deep brown and suddenly very innocent looking despite the very suggestive tone of his voice. 

“Oh you’re good,” you chuckle, letting him take the pen and jot down his number, “Do you really want the cake, or are you just flirting?” 

“Can’t I do both, cariño?” he grins, pushing off from the counter and winking at you as he comes to his full height, making you look up at him again. 

“Sure, but you’re only getting the cake,” you smile back at him and now it’s his turn to chuckle, a dimple on his cheek as he regards you with a playful look. 

“I’ll be happy with just the cake, but I’ll keep hoping,” he replies, still grinning as he pats down his jeans, pulling out his wallet from his back pocket, “What do I owe you?” 

“Pay on delivery,” you say and he arches one of his eyebrows with a cheeky smirk. 

“So that’s how I get you to use my number, will you chase me down if I don’t turn up on Tuesday?” 

“Something tells me you’re used to women chasing you down,” you say, trying to keep your heartbeat under control as he cocks his head, another arched eyebrow, “so I should probably just play it cool and count on your turning up for the cake.” 

“When do you close up on Tuesday?” he asks, the corner of his mouth quirking up, as he puts away his wallet. 

“Seven, but the cake will be done before then,” you reply and he nods. 

“I’ll be here before seven,” he says, “you can count on it, cariño.” He winks at you again and you curse the butterflies that immediately take flight in your belly. 

He gives you a wave as he takes a nonchalant step back towards the door before turning, his tight jeans giving you a perfect view of his tiny butt, you’ve really never seen any guy wear jeans that tight and you can’t help but let your eyes linger. 

‘Really…’ you think to yourself, ‘how does he even walk down the stairs in those jeans?’ 

A Tres Leches gets better the longer it can sit in the fridge and absorb all the liquid that’s poured over it, so you get started as soon as Javier leaves. By the time you’ve cleaned up the kitchen and done your usual Sunday night prep, the sponge cake is cooling on the counter. 

Ordinarily you wouldn’t come in on your day off but the Tres Leches needs three types of milk poured over it, so at lunchtime on Monday you stick your key in the lock and turn off the alarm to the shop. 

“Hey, I thought you weren’t open today?” a deep voice says behind your back just as you punch in the code. 

“Oh shit!” you shriek and spin around, your hand on your heart, as Javier’s hands come out to steady you. 

“So jumpy, cariño,” he chuckles, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“You’re sneaky, jeez,” you gasp, hitting the off button on the alarm that’s still beeping, “please, give a girl a warning before you jump out like that.” 

He follows you into the shop, apologizing again as you flick the lights on. 

“I’m sorry, I was just on my way to grab some lunch and I saw you open up the shop, I wanted to say hi and thank you for making the cake,” he smiles and you feel his hand come out and gently brush over the small of your back as you walk past him into the kitchen. The warmth of his hand makes you stutter, trying to keep your cool at his proximity. 

“T-that’s fine, but the cake isn’t done yet,” you say, “and the shop isn’t open, I’m just here to pour the milk mixture on it.” 

“You should’ve told me to pick it up on Wednesday instead, I don’t want to make you work on your day off,” Javier says, leaning against the door frame of the kitchen as you open the fridge and take out the cake. 

“It’s fine, this is quick, I’ll be done in ten minutes, then I’m leaving again,” you say as he watches you with those dark eyes, they follow you around the kitchen as you take out a pan and the three types of milk needed. 

“You have plans for the afternoon?” he asks, crossing his arms and the blue shirt stretches tight across his shoulders. You can’t help but glance at the way it hugs his biceps and he notices, his body settling into the pose a little bit more, thick fingers drumming against the taught fabric over his arm as he smiles at you. 

“Yeah, I have a date at the fair,” you say, pouring the milk into the pan and turning on the heat, from the corner of your eye you see him shift and straighten up a little. 

“A date huh…” he says, “Your boyfriend?” 

“No, just a blind date, a friend set us up,” you reply, stirring the condensed milk into the regular milk. 

“Ok, I hope you have a nice time then,” Javier says, his brow furrowed, standing up and thumping his fist lightly on the doorframe, hesitating for a few seconds, “I’ll come by for the cake tomorrow, have a nice afternoon.” He abruptly turns and you hear his footsteps retreat through the shop before you have a chance to say goodbye, leaving you surprised at his sudden departure. After finishing the cake and cleaning up the kitchen again, you leave the shop and lock up. Javier’s sudden departure still seems strange to you, you don’t know him at all, but he’d suddenly seemed offended by your date, even jealous. He’s a flirt, and you couldn’t help flirting back a little, but you really don’t think he’d be jealous of your blind date. Would he be?   

The next day you’re not sure if he’ll come for his cake after all, but you are hoping he will. The blind date had been a miserable affair and you bowed out after suffering through a painful hour of stilted small talk about small business taxes. Javier’s crooked grin and tight jeans had been on your mind throughout the afternoon as your date droned on.. 

Towards the end of the day you take the cake out and cover it in whipped cream and decorate it with fresh strawberries. And thankfully, a few minutes before seven the doorbell jangles and you look up to see Javier walk through the door, giving your heart a little jolt of excitement. But although he’s not exactly scowling, the yellow aviators cover his eyes and the corners of his mouth are downturned under the edges of his neat mustache. It’s a stark contrast to the bright pink shirt he’s wearing today, the color clashing with the apparent mood he’s in. 

“Hi Javier,” you say, giving him what you hope is your flirtiest look, wanting to coax him back to the flirtiness he’d displayed on previous visits, “I guess I won’t need your number after all,” you say, giving him a sweet smile as you watch his lips quirk up in response. 

“Maybe you should hang on to it, in case that new boyfriend doesn’t work out,” he smirks, coming up to the counter and leaning on the display case, long legs in tight jeans casually crossed as he gives you an appreciative glance up and down. You’d removed your apron a little bit earlier, changed into a nicer top, fixed your hair, only stopping yourself as you considered adding lipstick. 

“No, that was a bad date,” you scrunch up your nose at him, “I had to make up an excuse after an hour.” 

“Too bad,” he says but his crooked grin leaves you in no doubt about the fact that he’s very much not sorry about the failed date, “You should’ve let me take you out instead, I would’ve made sure you didn’t need any excuse to leave.” He gives you a quick wink, taking off his aviators, and you feel your cheeks heat up as he smirks and swipes a thumb over his bottom lip. 

“About that cake, querida?” 

The casual pet name ramps up the heat in your cheeks another notch and you’re grateful for the chance to turn around and head for the kitchen.

“Yeah, sure, let me get it,” you throw over your shoulder and yank the fridge door open, carefully sliding the cake box out. 

“Here, I boxed it for you, but have a look, make sure it’s what you wanted,” you say, putting the box in front of him as you get back to the counter 

“I’m sure it’s perfect,” he replies, but he still slips the paper lip from its hold and flips up the lid. He looks down at it for a beat and the casual confidence slips from his face, replaced by something you can’t place, almost as if he suddenly disappears from the shop, finding himself in another setting, looking at another cake. 

“Is…is it as you expected?” you ask timidly when he doesn’t move, his eyes still on the cake, and he blinks and looks up at you, his eyes soft and warm.

“It’s perfect, just perfect, thank you,” he replies, his tone suddenly sincere and raw in a way you didn’t expect, it’s just a cake. But he looks down at the cake again and there’s a play of emotions across his face, as if the thoughts in his head are dancing across his features in the space of a few heart beats. You let him have his moment and carefully start tidying up the counter around the till and turn to start cleaning the espresso machine when he clears his throat. 

“This is…uhmm…” he trails off and you look back at him, he’s still got his eyes on the cake but as he rubs a large hand over his jaw he looks up at you, “Do you wanna have a coffee with me? And some cake?” 

“You wanna cut the cake now?” you ask surprised, you thought it was for a special occasion but he nods. 

“Yeah, as a thank you for going out of your way to make it, coming in on your day off and everything,” he gives you a nod towards the coffee machine and grabs a couple of plates from the counter, “Although I should really be serving you but that coffee machine looks pretty advanced.” 

“I’d love to have coffee and cake with you, Javier. But are you sure you want to cut it now? I thought it was for something special?” 

“It was, or it is,” he says, coming round the counter with the cake and putting it next to you. “My mom used to make it for me and on Friday it was ten years ago since she passed….” 

He pauses and adjusts the cake with one hand, the other hooked into the pocket of his jeans, fingers drumming against his leg as you wait for him to continue. 

“I was feelin’ kinda homesick, wanted something to remind me of her,” he clears his throat, looking up at you again as you put down the cloth you’ve been wiping the machine with. His mood on Friday makes sense now, but you never would’ve you have guessed the reason behind it, and you push down the urge to put your hand on his arm. But he seems to shake out of his reverie and he gives you a crooked smile. 

“So how about that coffee, cariño?” 

“Sure,” you smile back at him and you see his eyes soften again, “How do you take it?” 

“Strong and black,” he replies, “Show me where you keep the knives and I’ll get us some cake, at least I can serve you that.” 

You show him and he gives a low hum when he slides the first slice onto a plate, “It smells just like I remember.” 

“Good, I hope the taste reminds you of her too,” you smile. It feels like he’s a different person now, still confident and flirty, and dangerously handsome, but you’re seeing a more human side, something underneath his winks and smirks as you watch him expertly wipe the knife and cut another clean edged slice and slide it onto the plate. 

“If you ever need a part time job, let me know, with those cake skills I’d let you serve my customers,” you remark, jumping up onto the counter next to where Javier’s standing. 

He snorts at your comment, picking up one of the plates and hands it to you, “Trust me, cariño, you don’t want me anywhere near your customers.” 

“No, true, those tight jeans might be a bit distracting for female guests,” you say, “I’d never get anything sold.” 

You bite your tongue, trying to stop your giggle, as you see his eyes widen, the spoon hoovering in the air over his cake slice as he tries to process your words.

“Really, cariño,” he says eventually, shaking his head as he pushes the spoon into the cake, “I didn’t think you minded them, considering the way you’ve been staring at my ass,” he gives you a wink as he puts the spoon in his mouth. 

“Yeah, that’s what I’m saying, I know how distracting they are,” you laugh, “It’s a good thing you left yesterday, I would’ve messed up the cake if you’d kept hanging around my kitchen in those jeans.” 

Javier hums, distracted by the cake as he looks down on it, waving his spoon at it as he chews and swallows. 

“This is delicious, cariño, just as good as my moms, it tastes just like hers.” 

“Thanks, that’s the best compliment I could get,” you smile at him, taking a mouthful of the cake for yourself as Javier reaches for the cup of coffee you’ve placed next to him. 

“Mhm…” he grunts, “strong coffee and Tres Leches, best thing I’ve had in a long time, hermosa.” 

He smiles at you over the edge of the cup, his chocolate brown eyes making you feel flustered as he keeps eye contact when he’s put the cup down. 

“Relly, the best I’ve had in a very long time…” he says, “and the best company I’ve had in a long time too. Tell me, would I really distract you that much in the kitchen?” He takes another spoonful of cake and keeps his eyes on you, staring you down as he cocks his hip and leans on the counter, suddenly very close, making your nerves thrum just under your skin. You can smell the cake on his breath, the coffee from the cup on the counter and his faded aftershave, still lingering on the collar of his pink shirt. 

“You…I-I think you know what you do with those tight jeans, Javier,” you reply and his lips quirk up in response, the corner of his mustache twitching as his eyes move down to your lips and linger there. 

“Why don’t you tell me, cariño?” he smirks, “What do my tight jeans do?” 

You almost roll your eyes at him, the confidence is oozing off him but you can’t deny that he can back it up as he parts his soft looking lips and moves around your legs, stepping in between them, trapping you up on the counter. Your breath hitches as he looks up at you again, his eyes leaving your lips as the tip of his tongue comes out and lightly wets his own. 

Quietly inhaling, you decide attack is the best tactic, and reach out, putting your hand around the back of Javier’s head. 

“Are you going to talk about your jeans or kiss me, Javier?” you ask, and you just have time to see the glint in his eyes, before he leans forward. 

His hand comes up and grabs your jaw, cupping your cheek as his thumb moves across your lips, holding it for a beat before he’s on you. His lips are as soft as they look, molding to your mouth, gently probing to let him in. Your hand tangles into the thick hair at the back of his head, holding on as he pushes forward, widening your legs around his hips, pressed against the cupboard. With a low moan you part your lips to his tongue and he responds, a groan, as he wraps his free arm around your waist, his hand finding your hip and pulling you towards him. The jeans do nothing to hide his growing arousal as you slide right up against his crotch, his kisses are soft but the way he holds you tight, is heated. 

You hook your hand into his belt loop and tug him closer, feeling him roll his hips against you as the taste of the cake and his strong coffee overpowers your senses, his tongue sliding around yours. He’s exploring, his large hand sliding over your jaw, the rough pad of his thumb caressing your skin and finding spots that make you moan and tremble under his touch. It doesn’t take him long to figure out that a gentle nip on your lower lip makes you arch your back and press into him. He makes the most of it as his hand slides up to splay flat over your shoulder blades, holding you close as he continues to explore your mouth.. 

Heat is making your core ache, he’s hard against you, the texture of the denim rubbing against you with each lazy roll of his hips and you have to pant into his mouth, pulling back from him to catch your breath. 

Javier kisses the corner of your mouth as you tip your head back with a groan, drawing a deep breath, and then moves over your jaw, his teeth scraping over your skin, his tongue coming out to taste and lick as he trails kisses down to your neck. When he sinks his teeth into the flesh just under your ear you whimper and grip hard at his hair, hearing him groan against you. He places a wet kiss on the mark his teeth have left and straightens up, looking down at you with half closed eyes. 

“I fucking hated that blind date guy,” Javier growls, still standing close enough for you to feel every twitch of his hard length between your legs, “I should’ve told you to ditch him and asked you to come out with me instead.” 

“I would’ve ditched him, Javier,” you reply, letting your fingers trail over his five o’clock shadow and brush the edge of his mustache.

“So let me take you out tonight instead, finish what we started, cariño.” 

His hands are distracting, one rubbing firm circles over your back, down to your hips, kneading the soft flesh. The other one still on your neck, caressing your cheek, your hair, his thumb tracing the outline of your lips as he keeps his eyes locked on yours. 

“I have to get up at three am, Javier,” you whisper, his lips finding yours again and you lose your train of thought. 

“Rain check,” he mumbles against your mouth, “What are you doing on Sunday night? You don’t work on Mondays.” 

“There’s this guy,” you reply, smiling as he pulls back a fraction to look down at you, one eyebrow raised, “He wears these really tight jeans and I think I should find out if he’s got the goods to back them up”.

“Oh he does,” Javier growls, tugging you closer and making you open your mouth to his eager tongue, pulling a breathless moan from you as he wraps his arms around you again.  

Part Seven

Tag list: @harriedandharassed @inept-the-magnificent @sheepdogchick3  @readingiskeepingmegoing @noisynightmarepoetry @survivingandenduring @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @oberynslady @vabeachazn

[glorious-spoon]

17 and/or 28?

hello nonnie! i went with 28: surprising them with their favorite treat. love is stored in the kitchen, etc.

-

"No, no, I'm not doing it for you," Abuela says, swatting his arm lightly with her dishtowel in that way that makes Eddie feel like he's taken a step backward through time, back to the sunny little kitchen in the house she sold three years ago to move back to Texas, back to being eight years old again and hanging around while she baked, even though he was supposed to be too old for all that by then. She's frailer now, but her eyes are just as sharp as she folds Eddie's fingers back around the egg he's trying to hand to her. "You're never going to learn if I do it for you."

"We're going to run out of eggs before I get it right at this point," he complains. They've gone through three already, the yolks broken and bleeding into the whites and therefore useless.

"You can use them to make a frittata. Or an omelet. Something. They won't go to waste."

He squints at her. "Was that a metaphor?"

"Come on, come on. Josephina is picking me up in an hour, if you want this cake to happen it's got to happen now."

"I could just buy one," Eddie says halfheartedly, like this whole enterprise wasn't his idea in the first place. God knows why. He's managed to drag himself a good few steps above boxed mac and cheese in the cooking department, but baking remains an intimidating mystery. It's not like he couldn't just buy one. It's Los Angeles. Plenty of places local to find tres leches cake, even if it won't be his abuela's recipe.

She probably would have made him one herself if he asked. Almost definitely would have. But once he got the idea in his head it felt—important, like Buck's laborious perfecting of the lasagna he's planning to make for them tomorrow, like Bobby's home-cooked meals at the station. Something about doing it himself.

Something about home-cooked meals, and about love, that it's definitely too early to say to Buck, at least in so many words. But he kind of wants to say it all the same.

He cracks the egg—gently, this time. The glistening yellow yolk remains intact, cradled in one half of the shell as the white slides away into the bowl beneath. Eddie holds his breath, holding his hand still until the separation is complete, feeling more than a little bit like he's defusing a bomb here. Then he finally drops the yolk into its own separate bowl with a feeling of absurd triumph.

Abuela squeezes him with a startling amount of strength for a woman who's more than a few years past eighty, but her voice is very gentle. "Perfect, Eddito. Now we just need four more like that."

Eddie breathes out a shaky laugh and reaches for another egg.

-

By six o'clock, Pepa is on her way over and the cake is cooling in the refrigerator, waiting for the leches mixture—the counter wiped clean, Abuela installed in a dining room chair sipping a cafecito from one of the little red cups that she bequeathed to Eddie when she moved away. They talk about inconsequential things: Christopher, his dad's retirement, his parents' tentative plans for a cruise, which makes Eddie wince and bite his tongue. Christopher again. Buck's name comes up, because of course it does, it always has. For years he's been so entwined with their lives that there's no way to talk about Eddie and Christopher for any length of time without mentioning Buck.

It feels more revealing now. Or maybe that's just that now Eddie knows there's something to reveal.

He's not trying to hide it. It's new, but he's never felt so sure about something in his life. He just doesn't know quite how to go about saying it; any of the words he can come up with feel too clumsy, too inadequate.

It's not until Pepa's car pulls in the driveway that she leans over to pat his hand where it's resting on the table. "He's going to love it. Tu novio, he'll be so happy you baked that just for him."

"That's assuming I don't mess anything else up," Eddie says, and then registers the rest of that sentence. Your boyfriend. His heart stutters for a moment, but settles fast. She's still smiling at him.

"You won't," she says.

He breathes out; laughs a little, breathless. "How did you know?"

"I'm old and wise," she says puckishly. Then, gentler, "You talk about him like you're in love."

Outside, the car door opens and shuts. Pepa starts up the walk. Eddie takes another breath, and nods. He feels a little flayed open, but it's a good feeling, to be seen like this. A little raw, but good. "I am. I—really am."

Abuela slides out of her chair and holds out her arms; Eddie folds into them like he's not a head taller than her these days. They're still standing like that, swaying a little, when Pepa comes in.

-

Buck is over the next night for dinner, a frequent if irregular occurrence whenever they both have the same evening off. They don't actually cook together, because Buck is kind of a control freak in the kitchen, but Eddie sets the table with Chris's sullen adolescent assistance, and puts on some music, and he remembers as he does it those evenings when he'd see his grandparents dancing together in the kitchen after dinner, the easy sway of their bodies. He's half-tempted to try and pull Buck into a dance, but right now Buck is frazzled and wearing an apron splattered with béchamel as he swears under his breath at the lasagna, so Eddie can wait.

It all comes out perfectly, because of course it does, and Eddie kisses him after he sets it down on the table, ignoring Chris's disgruntled noise. Buck smiles against his lips and kisses him back.

"Smells amazing," Eddie offers.

"It only took me five tries to get it right."

"Well, I appreciate you not burning my kitchen down."

"You're not funny," Buck pouts, but he leans in for another kiss.

"I'm starving," Chris says pointedly, and they break apart, laughing.

"You forget how to serve yourself, mijo?"

"No," Chris says, but he's smirking a little as he dishes himself a generous helping of lasagna and passes the spatula over to Eddie.

It's not that different, all told, from any of the other meals they've had together over the years. That's something that keeps tripping Eddie up: how little has actually changed. Other than the part where he's allowed to touch Buck as much as he wants now; other than the fact that he lets himself notice how much he wants.

For Chris's sake, he's discreet about it, but he curls his hand over Buck's knee under the table once they're all served. Buck ducks his head and smiles, a pretty flush dusting his cheeks, and Eddie leaves his hand there for the rest of the meal.

They clean up together, and Buck insists on helping even when Eddie tries to shoo him out of the kitchen, though he honestly doesn't try that hard. Chris escapes into the dining room when Buck pulls Eddie into a shuffling, impromptu dance to some Taylor Swift song on the radio—he must have stealthily changed the station when Eddie wasn't paying attention—but he ducks his head back in a few minutes later to ask if they're going to eat the cake.

"There's cake?" Buck asks, bemused.

"Tres leches," Eddie admits, and now he's blushing. "Abuela's recipe."

"You got Isabel to make me tres leches?" Buck asks, looking delighted.

"Okay, okay, it's not just for you—"

"Dad made it," interjects Chris, the traitor. "Can we please eat it now?"

Now Buck's expression has gone all soft, so sparkling and warm that Eddie can barely look directly at it. "You made me a cake?"

"You cooked dinner," Eddie counters, crossing over to open the fridge and pull the covered pan out. The whipped cream isn't in those graceful swirls that his abuela always did, but he's pretty sure it'll taste okay. It all looks okay, anyway. "Don't worry, I had supervision. It's probably edible."

"It looks amazing," Buck says, but he's not looking at the cake; he's looking at Eddie. Eddie tries to duck his head, and Buck catches his chin before he can manage it, and kisses him. It lingers sweetly for a moment, and then he grins and pulls away. "You made me a cake."

"Yeah, yeah," Eddie says, and thinks, I love you, I love you.

He doesn't say it out loud, not yet. But by the way Buck is beaming at him, Eddie thinks maybe he got it all the same.

[miguel-owhora]

tired of white tiktok girlies labeling ghost as this abusive n toxic guy !!!

that motherfucker would not lay a hand on you, nor would he be verbally abusive and such. i firmly believe that ghost has gotten help to better himself, bc obviously he wouldnt be allowed in the military if he was mentally ill. he's gotten help and has gotten better, and if he hasn't, he's working on it. he is not becoming his daddy and breaking the cycle.

ghost would also not freak out !!! if you took off his mask. he'd probably give you the dirtiest, coldest look and proceed to beat your ass for disrespecting him like that, but he wouldn't freak out. that man has confidence and he knows he's good looking. if anything he'd probably be so damn annoyed, n maybe a little embarrassed that a fucker was able to take it off, but he would not lose his shit.

and yeah, i get it, ghost is dark n brooding n a tough guy. but he's an idiot. he's a man. men are dummies, and ghost is no exception. he likes corny dad jokes n has so many memorized n tells them in the most monotone voice ever without cracking a smile, but internally he's losing it and slapping his knees, tears in his eyes type of laughter. he loves dog, loves puppies, loves riley. i feel like he has cold hands n likes to sneak them underneath his partner's clothes n finds it so funny when they get startled by the sudden coldness.

ghost likes oversized clothes n isnt a morning person, and likes to bury himself underneath layers of blankets. he's like that one photo of a cat waking up n not realizing who they are or what time it is or whatever. he'll tear up a tres leches cake; he had it once and he lost his shit.

its ooc but i dont care. he's anything but an abusive n toxic guy. ghost lives for the domestication he never had but craves so deeply.

hes also trans n mlm lol /canon srs

[tarjapearce]

What would soccer family + school events be like? maybe a bake sale, helping prepare for a school dance, fundraiser, or a pta meeting?

Oohh, love this question!! And lemme resume it in two words. Chaotically good.

Bake sells are Mama's favorite things cause

1. Your tres leches cake and Flans are the top selling

2. Miguel ate once half a Flan that was meant to be put in the bake sell. (He loves Flan)

3. Mama would have to make an extra dessert for the family. All of you lot have a sweet tooth.

4. Even though you'd have to prepare two nights ahead, the smile on Gabi face and Miguel's caramel mustache so worthed it.

You'd have a table with your goods, not to brag but your desserts sure do attract people. Meaning, you're one of the top contributors.

Tres Leches, Flan, brownies, even some Pan de Muerto, and Chocoflan or impossible cake and sugar cookies.

Miguel would help you to cash out as you handed the packaged goods. Benji would be in his stroller close to you, and Gabi would also help in pack in the cookies.

If something didn't get sold, you'd eat it later or distribute it within Gabi's friends.

---

School dances are exhausting but so so fun. There was one time Gabi had to participate, and of course Miguel helped her to memorize the choreography. You'd be dying of laughter on the inside, but also melt at the fact a 6'9" man would act silly just for his little girl.

Of course you'd record every moment of Gabi on the stage. Benji would erupt in joy as everyone clapped. It was his own way to support his big sister.

---

Fundraisers were your least favorite things. Because that would mean car washes. Miguel had ended up soaked, shirt skin tight as he played with the hose with Gabi.

As accidental as it was, it surely attracted the wrong sort of attention.

It helped? Absolutely. Had you liked it seeing the not so subtle glances the other women gave him? At all. But Gabi had her fun and it was all that mattered to you.

----

PTA Meetings were the least of your activities. Ever since that meeting with Benjamin's teacher you and Miguel were cautious when a meeting approached. If Miguel wasn't able to go, you'd go.

Both took your children's education seriously.

Of course Benjamin's incident was reported and ever since then, the teacher had left him alone. Turns out that Benji wasn't the only one that had been a victim of her skewed ideals of dress code.

At the end you were grateful to know she was given a strict warning.

Still, somehow they amused you since even though you sat on the back to avoid blocking other parent's view, he'd still stick out like a sore thumb among the crowd.

[onthewaytosomewhere]

it's one of those 2 am wip wednesdays

alright so this will be for i think what will be the 2nd one (unless the junora gets done first) for the series not-so-much one nigh stands cuz the first one (firstprince) was posted monday - this series is gonna get it's own wed and sun banners which are really just redos of the banner i'm plannin to use for all the

and thanks ever so much for the tag already, i was not the one having to start this off (yay!) @thinkof-england 💚💚💚

so Liam/Pez words and tags under cut cuz smutty and well the tagging is shite still

Liam falls back onto the bed when Percy guides him to it, the sheets beneath him feel absolutely decadent, maybe even better than the ones at Alex and Henry’s that he knows Henry’s friend picked out for them. Liam is luxuriating in the feel of the sheets against the skin he has bared, when Percy climbs onto the bed and leans over him. Percy’s mouth latches onto his nipple and he arches his back into the feel. Percy kisses his way up Liam’s chest and finds the spot at the base of his throat that always drives him mad, it’s a combination of ticklish and erotic that never fails to send shivers down his spine. “Oh fuck,” falls from his lips as he tries to bring Percy’s mouth back to his. Unfortunately, Percy has other plans, and he proceeds to nibble and suck his way across Liams clavicle, up the side of his neck until he finds the spot just behind his ear that makes him melt. Somehow this man is working his body, finding all his weaknesses as if he has an instruction manual. Liam finally gets Percy’s mouth back on his and his he remembers why he agreed to join him here after the club. This man can kiss better than any he’s ever kissed, it’s almost as if his lips are a drug that he can’t get enough of. The taste of the gloss that was on his lips is long gone, and his bare lips, are better than any dessert he’s ever had, even better than the tres leches cake Alex made the other day, the one that turned out just like Alex’s abuelas always did when she would visit and feed it to them and practically every neighbor kid. Liam glides his hands down the side of Percy’s body, realizing he somehow is still fully clothed, while Liam is down to very few clothes. He slides his hands under Percy’s shirt and slides it up to pull it over his head. The feel of his skin on Liam’s as he settles onto his chest to kiss him again is heavenly. The kisses continue, and Liam’s lips are so bitten he knows they will be still swollen in the morning, but he can’t find himself to regret any of this in the moment.

and no-pressure tagging like everyone so here goes:

@adreamareads @agame-writes @agostobuwan @anincompletelist @bitbybitwrites

@blueeyedgrlwrites @dragonflylady77 @duchessdepolignaca03 @england-would-fall @firenati0n

@firstsprinces @forever-fixating @getmehighonmagic @heysweetheart-writes @hgejfmw-hgejhsf

@inell @inexplicablymine @itsmaybitheway @jellibuns @jmagnabo92

@junebugclaremontdiaz @kiwiana-writes @littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @mikibwrites

@msmarvelouswinchester @nocoastposts @piratefalls @priincebutt @sophie1973

@stellarm @suseagull04 @tailsbeth-writes @taste-thewaste @thedramasummer

@theprinceandagcd @thesleepyskipper @tinyarmedtrex @typicalopposite @wordsofhoneydew

@yrsacdfox @cricketnationrise @cha-melodius @captainjunglegym @eusuntgratie

@bigassbowlingballhead @violetbaudelaire-quagmire @oxfordslutphase @orchidscript

[thehistoriangirl]

my mexican twin.... I DEMAND MORE LATINX READER X VIKTOR!! (politely) i think its just fun to see representation even in lil silly fics hehe

TWINSIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE I SUMMON YOU!!!!!

For now I have some headcanons I would love to write into fics but I haven't had the inspiration to do it as prettily as I wish to 😭😭 I hope you like them 💛💛💛

Okay so the headcanons:

Viktor x Latinx gn!Reader (SFW)

TW: These are Mexican-related (bc I'm Mexican lol), but some can apply to different Latin cultures! :3

He DEFS gains a few pounds once you two start dating

Like either because YOU feed him (sometimes against his will bc he's """soooooo busy""" (shoving him a torta de milanesa during his lunchtime)

Or because YOUR FAMILY feeds him once you present him over. Imagine your cool grandma/cool aunt inspecting it with 😱😱😱😱 faces because MY MAN IS SO SCRUNKLY. It's a family's duty to up some pounds on those bones

And he enjoys to be being pampered you know, I imagine him like the classic "Oh but I'm full already 🥺" when you put another bowl full of pozole in front of him, and then he says he's only eating it for peer pressure around the table--but that's. a LIE!!!!

Yall can't tell me he doesn't get a round bump after a particularly yummy party. He's like starting to doze off on the table like a baby after eating his fourth tamal during your cousin's XV años.

Even if at night he's like 🥺🥺🥺 "my love my tummy hurts" (for the spice, idk why i headcanon he can get gastritis really easily lkfhjdklfjf) and here it goes the milk remedy winkwink

Also pan de dulce 👀👀👀 he falls in love with pan de dulce istg, and he can eat it with milk????? sign him the fuck up. The same with pastel de tres leches

Also he starts to mumble songs in bad Spanish--an idea @apuwu had talked with me over Discord before JKDJHDFJKFJH. My man is just vibing without knowing the grisly lyrics behind a seemingly happy tune

But you prefer not to tell him because he just looks so adorable mumbling it mindlessly while working <3333

He doesn't dance much bc his legs hurt if he keeps putting pressure on it during too long, but you can definitely coarse him into dancing one or two.

Otherwise he just likes to watch you dance, even if you don't really know how to/are a lil bit clumsy. You look very happy dancing with your family/friends that he gets smitten all over again

He's kinda scarred for life once he saw kids breaking a piñata during one of your nephews' birthdays & un bolo during a baptism (where the hosts throw money so the guests could pick it up) (iykyk)

He started to watch telenovelas by mistake. Like maybe you were watching one or just putting it like white background noise while doing something else.

And at first he was like 🙄🙄🙄 "if the characters would do X thing or Z, this problem would be easily resolved/this problem wouldn't exist", and you tell him that it is for the 💥d r a m a💥

As it happened to the best of us when you're hanging out in the living room and your mom is watching a telenovela---Viktor just gets HOOKED. He doesn't know when it happened or how but he is invested

Sometimes you arrive home from a date with your friends and find Viktor and Jayce watching a telenovela on the couch

[For context, in my lil derange mind, in a contemporary AU Jayce is Latino. No i will not elaborate thank you]

He helps you make the Día de Muertos ofrenda <3333 he just loves to gets all craftsty and he's so interested about the concept that he even brings a photos of his passed family members. May even cook something they liked to put it in there alongisde yours :3

For now that's all! I hope to make some short fics with these soon! Like during Independence's Day KDJFDJKFJHF <3

[coquitokisses]

Trusting Again | chapter 006: ghost from the past

Word count: 3519

Warnings: language, some violence, blood, Bucky being a sweetheart and helping Cat with a wound

a/n: there’s a part where Cat talks in spanish and bulgarian, i obviously don’t know bulgarian, i used google translate lmao i do know spanish tho, anyways everything will be translated, also, Cat has an alias (sort of???) when she was in Bulgaria, they used to call her Crimson Angel, HOWEVER, i don’t really like that name, but i never found another one to replace it so it just stayed Crimson Angel 🤡 (anyways, she doesn’t really uses that name anymore, is just something more from her past)

series masterlist • previous chapter • next chapter

— 5 months later —

“I'm going to the store.” I told Sam as I grabbed my purse “You want anything?”

“No, I'm good.” He responded from the couch “Although, if you could bring that really moist cake you bought the other day.” He raised his eyebrows

“Tres leches?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“I’ll buy it.” I chuckled “I’ll be right back.”

I got out of the apartment and then walked over to the store that was literally just 5 minutes from us.

These last 5 months haven't been so bad, we've been good actually. Sam loves Cuba, as expected.

I got to the store, bought what we needed and then I headed back to the apartment. It's Friday and for the last three months maybe, I’ve been going to this bar with a girl I met like two weeks after we got here, her name is Maricela. Sam comes with us too sometimes.. whenever I drag him with me tho.

“I'm back.” I said closing the door, Sam was on the living room watching tv

“Got the cake?” He asked

“Got the cake” I nodded putting the bags on the kitchen counter “And I also bought a few snacks since you decided to eat them all.”

“Right, me.” He rolled his eyes

“Hey, so you know today’s Friday and I’m going out with Maricela.” I said to him as I started to put out the few things I bought “Wanna come?”

“Sure.”

“Wait, really?” I looked at him

“Yeah.” He nodded

“Huh” I turned back to the bags “Interesting.”

I usually have to beg him to come.

I finished putting out the rest of the things and then I went to take a shower. After I was finished, I went to my room and then I heard Sam going to the bathroom. I got dressed and when I was ready, I waited for Sam in the living room.

“Let’s go.” He said grabbing the keys

“You’re pretty pumped.” I said as we walked out of the apartment

“I’m chilling, bro.” He replied as we started walking

“Is it a girl?” I looked at him

“Nuh uh.” He rolled his eyes

“Are you sure? Because the other day I saw you talking to that blonde bartender.” I tilted my head

“She’s nice, but nah.” He shook his head “Right now, I would really want a beer.”

“Yeah, me too.” I nodded

+ + +

{ a/n: this is narrated in 3rd person lol }

“How do you know they’re here?” Bucky asked Steve as they walked towards the bar, which from afar you could already tell how crowded it was and also could hear how loud the music was

“Sam told me earlier.” He replied “Keep both eyes open for anything strange.”

“Of course.”

Both men entered the bar and Sam was sitting on a chair at the bar talking to a girl.

“Hey, y’all are here!” He said when he saw them

“We are.” Steve nodded “Where’s Cat?”

“Probably dancing.” He shrugged “Hey, I’ll find you later, okay?” He told the girl and she nodded before walking away

“Who was that?” Steve asked

“Some girl that sells handmade jewelry and Cat bought some from her.” He answered “How was Russia?”

“It’s not so bad when you have a translator.” Steve looked at his best friend

“It was okay.” Bucky shrugged, Sam chuckled “How’s Cuba been?”

“Amazing, Cat loves it, she says it reminds her of her home a little bit.”

“How’s she’s been?”

“She’s been great, actually.” He replied “She’s living her best life.”

Steve let out a chuckle. “Yeah, I figured.”

“Oh there she is.” Sam said

The three of them turned around and they saw Cat walking towards them with a beer on her hand, but she was looking to the side and when she turned her head, her eyes lit up as she saw Steve.

“Oh my god!” She squealed running over to him and she jumped onto him hugging him

“Jesus Christ.” Steve wrapped his arms around her holding her so she wouldn't fall

“What are you doing here?!” She asked when he put her down

“Well I think five months is a long time.” He said “I needed to see you guys.”

“It is a long time.” She nodded “I missed you.”

Steve smiled. “I did too, not gonna lie.”

“How was Russia?”

“Not bad, how’s Cuba? Sam told us you love it.”

“I do, it’s been kinda great.” She shrugged

She took a few steps back accidentally bumping into Bucky, so she immediately turned around.

“Hey, stranger.” She smiled

“Hey, you.” He gave her a small smirk

“Hey, what is this? What are you wearing?” Steve asked her as he pinched her back

“Ouch!” She turned to look at him “It's called an outfit, look it up.”

“You let her wear this?” He looked over at Sam

“I can't exactly tell her not to.” He said “And besides even if I tell her, she won't listen to me.”

“Exactly.” Cat spoke

“You're not even wearing a bra!” Steve looked at her again

“No I'm not, I can't use a bra with this top” she replied sitting on one of the chairs in front of the bar “And stop looking at my boobs.”

“I am definitely not looking at your boobs.” He rolled his eyes

“Well I think you look good.” Bucky shrugged looking at Cat

Steve immediately gave him a look and Bucky could just feel his eyes on him.

She did look good tho.

“Why thank you!” She said

“It looks fine to me too.” Sam added

She then looked back at Steve. “See? You're the only one who doesn't like it.”

“I never said I didn't like it” Steve said “But it's a little revealing.”

“Okay, grandpa.” She rolled her eyes

“You’re not old enough to be drinking.” He looked at the beer bottle in her hand

“Legal drinking age here is 18.. so yes I am.” She smiled

“Are you drunk?”

“What? No, this is my second beer and probably the last.”

“She's telling the truth.” Sam said

“Are y'all staying?” She asked us

“Well the plan was to just pass by and see you guys.” Steve answered

“Aww, you wanted to see us?” She pouted

Steve rolled his eyes laughing. “Of course, bub.”

“Well that’s very nice of you.. but the quinjet isn't going anywhere, so y’all can stay a little longer.”

“But where are you going?” Sam grabbed her by the arm to stop her from walking away

“To dance!” She pushed his hand away “I’ll be with Maricela a few more minutes and then we can go, okay?”

“Just a few minutes.” Steve repeated making sure she would listen and come back

“Yes, promise.” She nodded

All three of the guys just watched her go until she disappeared into the crowd.

“How old is she?” Bucky asked Steve, he was genuinely curious about her age

“20.” He replied

“She’s 20?!”

Steve nodded. “I know, a lot of people say she doesn’t seem that age.”

“No, not at all.” Bucky shook his head “She’s young, she shouldn’t be in this mess.”

“Well she’s been in worse ones.” He sighed “She kinda had to learn the hard way how to get used to them.”

That really surprised Bucky, he did know she was young just by her looks and her manners and just by the way she expresses herself, but he didn’t really think she was this young.

(...)

*a few hours later*

~ C A T ' S   P O V ~

“Hey, what do you say you guys come with us?” Steve said

“You’re not going back to Russia?” I looked at them

“Well no, we figured it might not be great to stay in the same place for too long.” Bucky replied

“So you want us to leave with you?” I looked back at Steve

“It doesn’t sound too bad.” He said “What do you guys say?”

“Well fine by me.” Sam spoke

“But where are we gonna go?” I asked

Steve shrugged. “We can figure that out after.”

“Aw, you miss us?”

“I don’t.”

“You’re lying.” I chuckled “If it’s something, I miss you.”

He smiled a little. “I miss you too, lovey.”

“Such a softie.” I rolled my eyes laughing

“Would you like to leave?” Sam looked at me

“I don’t know.” I sighed “I like it here.”

“I do too.”

“Let me think about it.” I said

“Well it’s late so you better think about it fast.” Steve spoke

It is late. It’s been like three hours since Steve said “just a few minutes” so we really should go.

“Alright, fuck it, let’s leave.” I shrugged

“Are you sure?” Sam looked at me

“Are you?”

“I’m sure.” He nodded

“I am too.” I replied “Besides, I think Bucky’s right, we shouldn’t stay in the same place for too long.”

“Okay, then we’re leaving.”

“Well let’s go.” Steve said

“Can I at least go look for my things and say goodbye to my friend?” I said putting my half empty beer on the counter

“Yeah, of course.” He nodded

“What if I head home now to prepare our things?” Sam said

“Sounds good.” I nodded “I’ll catch up with you guys.”

“No, what do you mean you’ll catch up? One of us can stay with you.” Steve intervened

“Steve, I’ve been living here for five months, I’ll be fine.”

“No, one of us is staying.”

“Well I can stay.” Bucky spoke and both, me and Steve, looked at him

“Perfect, then let's go” Sam nudged Steve “I'm getting tired.”

Both of them exited the club and I was left just there with Bucky.

“Wait for me here?” I looked at him “She's literally right there.” I pointed at some tables where Maricela was

“Sure.” He nodded “Don’t take too long.”

“I won’t.”

I managed to get into the crowd and made my way to where Maricela was, and also where my things were.

“Hey, girl.” I said once I was there

“Hey!” She smiled “Oh, you got lucky tonight, finally! ¡Ya era hora!”

(About damn time!)

“¿De qué estás hablando?” I furrowed my brows confused

(What are you talking about?)

“¿Cómo que de qué? About that hottie waiting for you at the bar.”

(What do you mean what I’m talking about?)

“Oh! Uh, no, we're not..” I started saying but she looked at me smirking “Whatever, never mind” I shook my head chuckling “Listen, I'm leaving.”

“Already?!” She pouted and I nodded

“And I think I’m really leaving tho.” I said “Gotta take care of some things.. uh, work stuff.”

The good thing about not being a recognized avenger is that nobody really knows who you are, especially outside of the United States. Which is great.

“Ugh, te voy a extrañar.” She immediately hugged me “Don’t be a stranger.”

(I’m gonna miss you)

I chuckled. “I won’t.” I pulled away “Cuídate.”

(Take care)

“Tú también, muñeca.” She smiled

(You too, doll)

I picked up my bag and my jacket from the booth and then I put it on as I walked back to Bucky.

“We can leave now.” I said to him

We started walking towards the exit, but I felt someone bumping into me.

“Ay, disculpe.” She apologized

(I’m so sorry)

“No se preocupe, está bien.” I gave her a small smile

(No worries, it’s okay)

I was ready to walk away, but she grabbed me by the wrist pretty tight.

“Creí que no iba a encontrarte nunca.” She said

(I thought I would never find you)

I looked at her confused because I’ve never seen her in my life. “Creo que tiene a la persona equivocada.” I tried to let go of her grip, but she was holding me pretty tight

(I think you got the wrong person)

“No, yo creo que no.” She shook her head with a little “Tŭrsikhme te, purpuren angel.”

(No, I don’t think so) (We’ve been looking for you, crimson angel)

When she said those words, my whole body tensed and I think Bucky noticed that something was happening because I felt his hand on my free arm trying to slowly pull me away.

“Who are you?” I asked in a low voice

“It doesn’t really matter who I am.” She shrugged “You need to come with me.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” I managed to finally get off her grip

I grabbed a bottle from the bar and I slammed it on her head as hard as I could making her fall on the ground. Did I knocked her out? I don’t know. Hopefully.

“Why the fuck would you do that?!” Bucky grabbed my wrist

“Shut up! Come on, there’s another exit.” I pushed him and we both ran towards the other exit

We got out of the bar and we started running in direction to the apartment. Once we were kinda far, we decided to stop running.

“Who the fuck was that?” Bucky asked

“I’m not in the mood for a story time.” I said as I kept walking

“You just slammed a glass bottle on her head! Are you insane?”

“She’s a bad guy, okay? I think that’s all that needs to be said.” I moved the hair out of my face and I felt a sting on my hand “Ah, fuck.” I looked at my hand and I was bleeding, probably had a piece of glass stuck there

“Let me see your hand.”

“I’m okay, let’s just get to the apartment.” I said

We heard a gunshot and I fell to the ground feeling a sharp pain on my shoulder. This bitch really just shot me.

“Go!” Bucky helped me get up and he put his hand on my back pushing me

We started running, again and my shoulder was starting to burn a little. Bucky pulled me into an alley and we kinda stayed there trying to catch our breaths a little.

“Come here.” He grabbed me by the arm, which by the way, was already covered in blood

“Please tell me the bullet’s out.”

“I don’t think it is.”

“We have to go.”

“Wait! You’re bleeding too much.” He said

“I’ll be fine.” I let go of his grip

I had just walked out of the alley and the only thing I saw was the same girl pushing me onto the ground before she put her foot on my neck, but she wasn’t putting pressure yet so I could breathe still.

“Stay back.” She pointed a gun at Bucky when he tried to come closer “I only want her.”

“Who are you?” I asked her

“That doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.” My hands grabbed her leg trying to push her away but she started to apply a little pressure

“You’re gonna come with me without putting up a fight, you understand?”

“You even know who I am at least?” I frowned “Not that I’m famous or anything.. but I’m genuinely curious.”

“Znam koĭ si, purpuren angel.”

(I know who you are, crimson angel.)

“Of course.” I muttered

I slowly moved one of my hands to my shorts and I grabbed the pocket knife I had.

“Who sent you?”

“Look kid, you’re in no position to ask questions.” She said

Oh, kid?! That’s it.

“Why’d they sent you alone?”

“I’m not alone.”

“I don’t really see anyone else with you.” I said “They at least tell you why they call me that?”

“I don’t really ask questions, I just get the job done.”

“Well..” I took the knife out “You should’ve asked.”

I stabbed her on the leg making her take her foot off me and I immediately kicked her making her fall on the ground. I kicked the gun away and I got on top of her pressing the knife to her neck.

“I’m gonna ask one last time, who sent you?” I spoke

She scoffed. “You really think I’m just gonna answer you?”

“Well that’s your choice, really.” I shrugged “But nothing good comes out of not telling me.. but I think you already know that.” I whispered that last sentence “Don’t make me ask again.”

“… Danika.”

“That’s funny, last time I saw her she was trying to kill me.”

“I don’t know anything else, they refuse to share everything with us.”

“Of course they do.” I sighed “Well next time you see Danika, tell her she can come get me herself.. malkoto ĭ angelche bi se radvalo da ya vidi otnovo.”

(Her little angel would love to see her again.)

That was the last thing I said before I slammed her head on the concrete knocking her out.

“You’re bleeding too much.” Bucky said helping me get up “How far is the apartment?”

“We’re almost there.”

“What if she follow us?”

I scoffed.” Then we’ll be okay because we can defend ourselves.”

“It’s not funny, I’m serious.”

“Just shut up and keep walking, we’re almost there.” I sighed “She’s not waking up anytime soon, trust me.”

We walked for like 5 more minutes until we finally arrived at the apartment. When we got in, Sam already had our bags in the living room, which weren’t a lot, we only had like four.

“Why are you so sweaty?” Steve asked looking at us both “Wait, you’re bleeding.” He grabbed me by the arm stopping me “You’re shot, Cat, what the hell happened?”

“We need to go now.” I said “I think they found me and I’m not talking about the law.”

“What?!” He looked at me “What are you talking about? How?”

“I don’t fucking know, but we need to go now.” I said opening one of my bags

I took out one of my bandanas and kinda wrapped it around the wound to make some pressure on it to stop the bleeding. I went into my room and I looked around making sure there was nothing else left and then I walked out to the living room again.

“You sure you got everything?” I looked at Sam as he handed me one of the bags

“Yes.”

“Passports?” I asked

“Yes, they’re inside, everything’s inside.” He nodded “You can relax.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“Everything’s gonna be okay, don’t think about it.”

I let out a sigh. “I just.. I thought it was over.”

“It is.” He said as we walked out of the apartment

“It’s not.” I looked at him

“Then it will be, don’t worry, you’re not alone.”

We got outside and walked over to the jet. Once we were in, I sat on the floor. I was starting to feel kinda dizzy, but just a little bit, I think is because the adrenaline already left my body and I’m starting to feel the effects of being shot. I haven’t even checked my hand yet and I know I have a little piece of glass stuck there cause I feel it and it’s hurting like crazy. And also my hand is kinda bloody.

“Cat, we need to clean that wound.” Steve said

“I’m fine.” I rested my head on the wall

“No you’re not.” Bucky sat in front of me “Turn around.”

I just did what he asked and took the bandana off me.

“Is there some rubbing alcohol or something to clean that wound by any chance?” He asked

“There should be a small first aid kit in that compartment.” I pointed at the wall in front of us

He walked there for the kit, once he found it he brought it to where I was. He first poured some alcohol on his hands, then grabbed mine and took out that little piece of glass that was there, he cleaned my hand and then put a bandaid on it.

“You have high pain tolerance?” He asked, he was behind me now

I shrugged. “Kinda.”

“Good.” He said and before I could even say another word, I felt his finger on the wound

“You motherf.. oh my god!” I bit my lip trying not to scream

“It’s out.” He said showing me the bullet “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“It fucking hurts really bad.” I winced

“Well from what I’ve seen, I think you can handle it.” He looked at me “You’re a big girl.”

And without even warning me, I felt how he wiped the wound with a gauze with alcohol. More like he cleaned around it, but still, it hurt.

“Fuck..” I groaned really wanting to punch him in the face “I really hate you.”

“That’s debatable.” He tilted his head

“Just.. shut up and finish before I punch you in that perfect face of yours.” I took a deep breath and rested my head back on the wall

Bucky finished cleaning the wound and he covered it up with some bandages.

“You hate me now?” He looked at me

“What if I do?” I tilted my head

“Well I can make you change your mind.” he shrugged

“I’m not very easy to persuade so I don’t think you’ll be able to.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Not really.”

“Oh so you do think I can make you change your mind?”

“I never said that.” I shook my head

“You don’t need to say it.” He gave me a small smirk

This man.

“Where are we going?” Steve asked

“To see Nick.” I replied

“Denmark?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

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[matchalovertrait]

It was business as usual at Postres de Alegría. Some people may find it mundane, but Noemí would describe it more as peaceful. Before opening, she cleaned, baked, and set up the baked goods in the displays. Angela, their employee, came in when the store opened and cleaned the kitchen.

Noemí took this time to interact with the customers. Besides baking and bringing people joy with her pastries, her other favorite part of this career is building connections with people. She loves hearing about their lives and sharing laughs with them. It is always such a delight when regulars come and chat like they're lifelong friends. In fact, it looked like one just came in now! Well, they weren't exactly friends yet, but Noemí was sure she could get him to talk more one of these days.

The customer busted through the doors when Noemí began to wave and welcome him, but he cut her off. "Hello, everyone! As you may have heard, Alto's Bakery is opening very soon," the man proclaimed. Okay... maybe he was not just a customer?

Noemí and the rest of the people in the bakery stared at this strange man in silence. Nobody reads the newspaper anymore, so they were a little clueless. "I'm sorry, sir?" Noemi inquired. "Why are you announcing this in my bakery?"

"I'm Alfonso Alto and I welcome each and every one of you to my all-authentic Italian bakery, which is set to open very soon." After Alfonso said this, the customers gasped and started whispering amongst themselves. "Alfonso Alto?" "Brother of Nick and Bert?" "Wow, it's really him.." "I thought he moved permanently to Isla Paradiso." "Yes, it really is me! By the way, make sure to come to the grand opening. The first 50 people to come get 50% off on their entire order," Alfonso added. "As my family name suggests, the quality of our pastries is high, but don't worry! Our prices are low." Noemí tried not to let out the biggest groan. Was that supposed to be a slogan? That's way too wordy.

Now there was a lot of chatter coming from everywhere in the bakery. Many people seemed interested. "Will Alto's Bakery have cannolis?" someone asked. It seemed like Alfonso was making a mental note before he answered. Maybe cannolis were not even part of the menu before the customer asked that? "Of course! We will also have blueberry cheesecake, churros, tres leches cake, and more." Okay, this is getting ridiculous. Now he's just naming popular items from Postres de Alegría. "Sir, please. Let's talk outside," Noemí told him. She tried to remain civil in front of the customers.

Once they were outside, she spoke her mind. "Are you okay in the head? You must be in love with Teodor if you're this obsessed with him."

"No, but I am in love with his ideas. The resort didn't exactly go as planned, so I came to analyze his business practices in person. Then, I saw what a great business he has here. I'm switching industries."

"It's not just his business," Noemí's voice broke. "It's mine too."

"Look, it's nothing personal. I'm just following the money," Alfonso sat flatly. Suddenly, Noemí heard another man's voice.

"Alfonso, you should be ashamed of yourself. I hoped you would have changed after 16 years. Now, leave. You already made your point." Teodor came a bit too late, which please Alfonso. He got to ruin their morale without any interruption and still got to see the look on Teodor's face.

"You're right, I had my fun here. I'll be on my way out," Alfonso said before he left. He looked over his shoulder and smirked.

Part 2/4

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[romanticvampiric]

ㅤ( English and Spanish ver. )

Diabolik Lovers: Haunted Dark Husband — Dark 07

ㅤCW: Bodyshaming, scorpions and mention of vomit / Bodyshaming, escorpiones y mención de vomito.

English ver.

Romantic: ( Aah, but what a boring day. )

( I‘m a little hungry, but I don’t understand. I supposedly had lunch a while ago. )

( Maybe I’ll buy something after the next class, or before? ...I’ll try not to spend my money impulsively. )

For now... there must be something I can do. I’m tired of sitting here doing absolutely nothing.

( Now that I think about it, I should continue my research regarding the Sakamaki. I can’t deny that those guys are terrifying, after all, they are not human. )

( But who else would do the dirty work? I highly doubt anyone else would suspect them of being vampires within the Institution. )

( Could they be accomplices? ...This whole situation makes me feel so insecure, so uncomfortable. )

Ayato: Haa? Are you still sitting here, Chibimushi?

Romantic: ( It’s Ayato-kun... Again. )

Oh, well... Yes, something like that.

If I’m being honest with you, I’m surprised you actually noticed.

Ayato: How can you not? You’ve been sitting there for hours.

What? Are you afraid that others will start to notice how tiny you are?

Romantic: ——!

( He didn’t say that...! )

Ayato: Heh. What’s happening? Don’t worry, Chibimushi. Everyone here already notices it perfectly.

Is your height affecting you? Haha!

Romantic: ...It’s not funny. Also, I already told you to stop calling me that.

Ayato: But I don’t even remember your real name. This one suits you perfectly, doesn’t it?

I would say it even goes with your personality. Chi-bi-mu-shi.

Romantic: ...!

( Ugh... He’s just trying to provoke me. I’m not going to give him the luxury of responding now. )

( I’m not even that small! )

...Whatever.

Ayato-kun, do you know if the cafeteria is still open? I... I want to eat something before the next class.

Ayato: Bah. The cafeteria has been closed for a few hours, Chibimushi. You should have gone there sooner if you were that hungry, you know?

Romantic: ( Haa, I thought so... )

Ayato: But when it opens, I can bring you something delicious if you want, what were you planning to eat?

Romantic: No need, Ayato-kun, thank you. I wasn’t that hungry either, so I’ll stay here.

Ayato: Come on. I’ll spoil you a little, how about I bring you something sweet? Ore-sama is quite a gentleman after all!

Romantic: ( Huh? )

Ayato: They opened a sweets store very close to the school recently, Kanato showed it to me one day.

Romantic: ( Kanato-kun? )

( Well... I’m aware of how much Kanato-kun loves sweets. But surprises me that he would want to share the store with Ayato-kun. )

( Most likely he didn’t actually do it... It’s even allowed to leave the school during class time—?)

Ayato: Now, is there something you want exactly? Although, I guess anything would be good for a Chibimushi like you.

Tell me, what you think?

Romantic: ...Okay, I’ll accept your invitation, but... I'm not sure what to choose.

Ayato: Oh, that’s simple. You just have to think of something that you like too much. Come on, choose now!

Romantic: ( All this situation is so strange. Ayato-kun acted too kind... The sweets, the store... )

( Is this «kind act» to ask me for something in return? Blood, perhaps? )

❁ㅤAyato stands up from his seat and stares at Romantic as he stands in the classroom with his arms crossed.

Romantic: Well...

Ayato: So! What do you want, Chibimushi? Sweets? Ice cream? Cake? Chocolates? Name it and it will be yours.

You better not reject me this time!

Romantic: ...Maybe I would like some cake, I really like tres leches, I haven't had it in a while.

❁ㅤHe laughed without hesitation and leaned towards the boy again, smiling at him while shaking his black hair until it looked like a bird’s nest.

Ayato: You really are unique, aren’t you?

Romantic: S-stop already!

Ayato: Hahaha! I’ll go get the cake you want, so don’t go anywhere else without my permission, okay? I’ll be right back.

Romantic: Please, don’t let other people see you!

Haa... this boy is going to get me expelled one day...

❁ㅤWith that, the vampire looked up, turned around and walked towards the classroom hallway in search of the small gift, his salmon eyes completely stunned by his strange behavior.

Romantic: ( I’m not going to distrust Ayato-kun, I don’t like him, but... I do know him. )

( Maybe... he just wanted to do it. But nobody gets that kind of thing out of nowhere, right? )

I wonder what he has in mind.

—25 minutes later.—

❁ㅤAfter a while, the door opened and Ayato re-entered the room; he is now standing in front of Romantic while he is holding behind his back what appears to be a white box labeled: «The Sweet Aroma».

Ayato: Well, well! Here it is.

Romantic: Wow! I can see?

Ayato: Of course, watch carefully.

❁ㅤA small smile from ear to ear appeared on his face as soon as he spoke, offering his companion the large box of cake that he had agreed to buy, while he showed his fangs on the outside.

Romantic: Wow!

Hee-hee! ♪ The box is quite big for a cake…

Ayato: Oh, you’d be surprised how big this cake is, Chibimushi.

Come on, take a look.

Romantic: Really? Well, I wouldn’t want to eat it alone, wouldn’t you like a slice, Ayato-kun?

Really, I don’t mind sharing it with you.

Ayato: Che, why would I do it? I gave it to you. Therefore, it’s natural that you, as the receiver, eat it up.

I was kind enough to bring it to you, so hurry up and open it!

Romantic: ( Ayato-kun... He doesn’t want some cake? But he loves food, and making me angry... )

( What should I do? I’m starting to think this is suspicious, and if possible, I would like to avoid having to eat something weird... )

( This was already planned... Wasn’t it? )

I...

Ayato: Ah, come on! I’m telling you to open it now!

Romantic: I’m on it, be patient, please.

( I have to act now. Do whatever, but do it now.... Otherwise Ayato-kun is going to get tired of waiting... )

Ayato: Shut up. It’s your fault for taking forever.

Romantic: Let me open it, okay? Let’s see how it is...

Ayato:...

Romantic: ...

...

( ...Oh my God, it can’t be true... )

Aah...! No—!

( T-they are... they are scorpions! There are scorpions in the cake! )

Ayato: Hehe, it seems like you liked it a lot. You jumped with excitement.

Romantic: ...

Ayato: What’s wrong, Chibimushi? You’re shaking...

Romantic: Ayato-kun! Did you—?!

Ayato: Yes, it was me.

For a moment I thought about just bringing you the cake, but there’s nothing better than a complement, right? Enjoy it.

Romantic: ...!

( I knew it. Ayato-kun couldn’t be that kind. I really was a real fool... )

Ayato: Hehe! You have no choice when you are like this.

Come on, eat one of those. They’ll probably be delicious too, right?

Romantic: W-what?

Ayato: What you heard.

Don’t be shy, Chibimushi. Go on, take advantage of the fact that you are the only one who will have it, take a huge bite.

Or... are you too afraid to eat one of these? Don’t tell me they scare you.

Romantic: ( That smile... How did he know? )

❁ㅤThe young man struggled, trying to remove the various scorpions from his sight. He knew that he didn’t have many options available to him, but still...

Romantic: Ayato-kun...

N-no, Ayato-kun! I can’t do it!

Ayato: Oh, of course you can. Just trust me...

Romantic: No, no, no!

Ayato: Shh... you’ll like it, believe me.

Come on, close your eyes and open wide.

Romantic: ( I don’t want to look...! I feel like I could die right now from the disgust... No! )

Ayato: Here it comes... yum! ...Delicious, hehe.

Romantic: Nh—!

Ayato: Wow, Chibimushi, you’re really making a mess, huh?!

H-hey! Don’t you dare throwing up. Open your eyes, pay attention to what you’re doing.

Romantic: ( ... )

( Huh? )

( ...Wait, these aren’t scorpions. )

( These are... )

Candy...?

Ayato: That’s right. Why so upset? You haven’t even swallowed it yet. I can give you worse to eat, so consider yourself lucky.

That face of yours... you’re totally hopeless, I almost feel sorry for you. Haha!

Romantic: Ugh...! Ayato-kun...! I can’t believe it!

I thought they were real...! I—!

Ayato: Hahaha! How could you believe something like that? You really are an idiot, Chibimushi! Haha!

Romantic: ( In the end... he was just making fun of me, again. But this time... Ayato-kun crossed the line. )

( I can't believe I let myself be fooled, I never learn! )

Ayato: Ah, hehe... my stomach hurts. I shouldn’t have laughed so much...

Here, take this, nerd.

❁ㅤThe redhead extended a small white handkerchief from one of his pants pockets and handed it to the minor with a certain mocking tone.

Romantic: ...Thank you.

❁ㅤHe sighed, taking the piece of paper to wipe his mouth. He had made a total mess on his face.

Ayato: That’s the Chibimushi I know.

Alright! This is making me hungry, so let’s change plans, okay? Let’s finish that cake you and I together.

Make sure you enjoy every bite, so put that face away. Whether you like it or not, it’s a gift for you.

Romantic: ...Okay, I promise to be grateful.

( I don’t know what to think... )

—Monologue.—

Ayato-kun and I didn’t have cutlery during free class, so we ate the entire cake using our hands. Making sure not to throw anything on the floor.

To be honest, I had a lot of leftovers on my «plate». I didn’t have much of an appetite back then, so I just gave it all to him.

Not because he wasn’t delicious or because I wanted to ignore the detail. However, the presence of a scorpion, even if it is made of candy or even as an ornament, seems very unpleasant to me.

I had to eat at least five of them, and I imagined their legs moving when I bit into them, or worse, their stingers stuck in my tongue as I chewed.

In the end, it seems that Ayato-kun liked the cake he bought more than I did.

ーー END OF DARK 07ーー

Admin's comment 🧚🏻‍♀️

You may be wondering why this is on my main blog and not on @lovebatty... Well, I was editing this post and then realized that this was the wrong blog 😭 funny story.

But it doesn't matter, hopefully it won't happen to me again. As you can see, we saw more of Ayato's cruel behavior on this point of the story❕ This chapter gives me chills, because I really DON'T like scorpions❕❕ So I feel bad for Romi, he doesn't deserve this.ㅤ(⁠ ⁠；⁠∀⁠；⁠)

If you like it, please consider giving this post a fav, reblog and why not, even follow me❕ As always, thank you so much for reading. Have an amazing day.

Versión en Español.

Romantic: ( Aah, pero que día tan aburrido. )

( Tengo un poco de hambre, pero no lo entiendo. Se supone que ya había almorzado desde hace rato. )

( Quizá vaya a comprar algo después de la siguiente clase, ¿o antes? ...Intentaré no gastar mi dinero impulsivamente. )

Por ahora... debe haber algo que pueda hacer. Ya me cansé de estar aquí sentado sin hacer absolutamente nada.

( Ahora que lo pienso, debería continuar con mi investigación respecto a los Sakamaki. No puedo negar que esos tipos son aterradores, después de todo, no son humanos. )

( Pero quién más haría el trabajo sucio. Dudo mucho que alguien más sospeche que ellos son vampiros dentro de la Institución. )

( ¿Podrían ser cómplices? ...Toda esta situación me hace sentir tan inseguro, tan incómodo. )

Ayato: ¿Haa? ¿Todavía sigues aquí sentado, Chibimushi?

Romantic: ( Es Ayato-kun... Otra vez. )

Oh, pues... Sí, algo así.

Sí te soy honesto, me sorprende que lo notarás.

Ayato: ¿Cómo no hacerlo? Has estado sentado allí durante horas.

¿Qué? ¿Tienes miedo de que los demás comiencen a notar lo diminuto que eres?

Romantic: ¡——!

( ¡Él no dijo eso...! )

Ayato: Je. ¿Qué pasa? No te angusties, Chibimushi. Todos aquí ya lo notamos perfectamente.

¿Tu altura te está afectando? ¡Jaja!

Romantic: ...No es gracioso. Además, ya te he dicho que dejes de llamarme de esa forma.

Ayato: Pero si ni siquiera me acuerdo de tu verdadero nombre.

Ese te queda bastante bien, ¿no? Diría que hasta va con tu personalidad. Chi-bi-mu-shi.

Romantic: ¡...!

( Ugh... Él tan sólo busca provocarme. No pienso darle el lujo de responder ahora. )

( ¡Ni siquiera soy tan pequeño! )

...Como sea.

...Ayato-kun, ¿sabes si la cafetería todavía está abierta? Yo... quiero comer algo antes de la próxima clase.

Ayato: Bah. La cafetería lleva cerrada unas horas, Chibimushi. Deberías haber ido allí antes si tanta hambre tenías, ¿sabes?

Romantic: ( Haa, lo suponía... )

Ayato: Pero cuando abra, puedo traerte algo delicioso si quieres, ¿qué pensabas comer?

Romantic: No es necesario, Ayato-kun, gracias. Yo tampoco tenía tanta hambre, así que me quedaré aquí.

Ayato: Vamos. Te consentiré un poco, te traeré algo dulce, ¿de acuerdo? ¡Ore-sama es todo un caballero después de todo!

Romantic: ( ¿Eh? )

Ayato: Recientemente abrieron una tienda de dulces muy cerca de la escuela, Kanato me la mostró un día.

Romantic: ( Kanato-kun? )

( Bueno... soy consciente de lo mucho que a Kanato-kun le encantan los dulces. Pero me sorprendería que quisiera compartir la tienda con Ayato-kun. )

( Lo más probable es que en realidad no lo haya hecho... ¿Está siquiera permitido salir de la escuela durante el horario de clases—?)

Ayato: Ahora, ¿hay algo que deseas exactamente? Aunque, supongo que cualquier cosa le vendría bien a un Chibimushi como tú.

Dime, ¿te animas?

Romantic: ...Está bien, aceptaré tu invitación, pero... no estoy seguro de qué elegir.

Ayato: Oh, eso es sencillo. Sólo debes pensar en algo que te guste demasiado, ¡vamos, elige ya!

Romantic: ( Toda esta situación es tan extraña. Ayato-kun actuó muy amable... Los dulces, la tienda... )

( ¿Es este acto amable para pedirme algo a cambio? ¿Sangre, tal vez? )

❁ㅤAyato se levanta de su asiento y mira fijamente a Romantic mientras está de pie en el salón de clases con los brazos cruzados.

Romantic: Pues...

Ayato: ¡Entonces! ¿Qué quieres, Chibimushi? ¿Dulces? ¿Helado? ¿Pastel? ¿Chocolates? Nómbralo y será tuyo.

¡Será mejor que no me rechaces esta vez!

Romantic: ...Quizás me gustaría un poco de pastel, me gusta mucho el de tres leches, hace tiempo que no lo he tenido.

❁ㅤSe rió sin dudarlo y se inclinó nuevamente hacia el chico, sonriéndole al mismo tiempo que le sacudía su cabello negro hasta dejarlo como un nido de pájaros.

Ayato: Realmente eres único, ¿no?

Romantic: ¡P-para ya!

Ayato: ¡Jajaja! Iré a buscar el pastel que quieres, así que no vayas a ningún otro lado sin mi permiso, ¿vale? Ya vuelvo.

Romantic: ¡Por favor, no dejes que otras personas te vean! ¡Ve con mucho cuidado!

Haa... este chico va a hacer que me expulsen algún día...

❁ㅤDicho esto, el vampiro miró hacia arriba, se dio la vuelta y caminó hacia el pasillo del salón de clases en busca del pequeño regalo, el ojos asalmonados totalmente atónito ante su extraño comportamiento.

Romantic: ( No voy a desconfiar de Ayato-kun, no me agrada, pero… sí lo conozco. )

( Tal vez... sólo se sentía cómo tal. Pero nadie saca ese tipo de cosas de la nada, ¿verdad? )

Me pregunto qué tiene en mente.

—25 minutos después.—

❁ㅤDespués de un rato, la puerta se abrió y Ayato volvió a entrar a la habitación; está vez parado frente a Romantic mientras que iba sosteniendo detrás de su espalda lo que parecía ser una caja blanca con la etiqueta: «El Dulce Aroma».

Ayato: ¡Bien, bien! Aquí lo tienes.

Romantic: ¡Vaya! ¿Puedo verlo?

Ayato: Por supuesto, observa con atención.

❁ㅤUna pequeña sonrisa de oreja a oreja se le formuló en el rostro apenas le habló, ofreciéndole a su acompañante la gran caja de pastel que se había comprometido a comprar, mientras que mostraba los colmillos de fuera.

Romantic: ¡Guau!

¡Je-je! ♪ La caja es bastante grande para un pastel…

Ayato: Oh, te sorprendería lo grande que es este pastel, Chibimushi.

Vamos, echa un vistazo.

Romantic: ¿En serio? Bueno, no me gustaría comerlo solo, ¿no te gustaría una rebanada, Ayato-kun?

De verdad, no me molesta el compartirlo.

Ayato: Che, ¿por qué iba a hacerlo? Te lo dí a ti. Por lo tanto, es natural que tú, como receptor, te lo comas.

¡Vamos, tuve la amabilidad de traértelo, así que date prisa y ábrelo!

Romantic: ( ¿Ayato-kun... no quiere pastel? Pero él ama la comida, y molestarme. )

( ¿Qué debería hacer? Empiezo a creer que esto es sospechoso, y si es posible, me gustaría evitar tener que comer algo perjudicial para mí. )

( Esto ya estaba planeado...¿no es así? )

Romantic: Yo...

Ayato: ¡Ah, vamos! ¡Te estoy diciendo que lo abras ya!

Romantic: Ya voy, se paciente, por favor.

( Tengo que actuar ahora. Haz lo que sea, pero hazlo ahora... De lo contrario, Ayato-kun se cansará de esperar... )

Ayato: Cállate. Es tu culpa por tardar una eternidad.

Romantic: Déjame abrirlo, ¿de acuerdo? Veamos qué tal está...

Ayato: ...

Romantic: ...

...

( ...Oh Dios mío, no puede ser verdad... )

¡Aah! ¡No—!

( ¡S-son... son escorpiones! ¡Hay escorpiones en el pastel! )

Ayato: Jeje, parece que te gustó mucho. Saltaste de la emoción.

Romantic: ...

Ayato: ¿Qué ocurre, Chibimushi? Estás temblando...

Romantic: ¡Ayato-kun! ¡¿Acaso tú—?!

Ayato: Sí, fui yo.

Por un momento pensé en traerte sólo el pastel, pero no hay nada mejor que un complemento, ¿no es así? Disfrútalo.

Romantic: ¡...!

( Lo sabía. Ayato-kun no podría ser tan amable. Realmente fui un verdadero estúpido... )

Ayato: ¡Jeje! No tienes remedio cuando estás así.

Vamos, cómete uno de esos escorpiones. Seguramente estarán deliciosos también, ¿verdad?

Romantic: ¿Q-qué?

Ayato: Lo que oíste.

No seas tímido, Chibimushi. Anda, aprovecha que eres el único que lo tendrá, dale un mordisco enorme.

¿O tienes demasiado miedo para comer uno de éstos? No me digas que te asustan.

Romantic: ( Esa sonrisa... ¿Cómo lo supo? )

❁ㅤEl joven luchó, tratando de quitar a los distintos escorpiones de su vista. Sabía que no tenía muchas opciones a su disposición, pero aún así...

Romantic: Ayato-kun...

¡N-no, Ayato-kun! ¡No puedo hacerlo!

Ayato: Oh, claro que puedes. Sólo confía en mí...

Romantic: ¡No, no, no!

Ayato: Shh... te va a gustar, créeme.

Anda, cierra los ojos y abre grande.

Romantic: ( ¡No quiero mirar...! ¡Siento que podría morirme en este preciso instante del asco que siento...! )

Ayato: Ahí viene... ¡ñam! ...Delicioso, jeje.

Romantic: ¡Nh—!

Ayato: Vaya, Chibimushi, realmente estás haciendo un desastre, ¡¿eh?!

¡O-oye! No te atrevas a vomitar. Abre los ojos, fíjate muy bien en lo que haces.

Romantic: ( ... )

( ¿Eh? )

¿Caramelos...?

( ...Espera, estos no son escorpiones. )

( Estos son... )

Ayato: Así es. ¿Por qué tan disgustado? Ni siquiera te lo has tragado todavía. Puedo darte algo peor de comer, así que considérate afortunado.

Esa cara tuya... estás totalmente desesperado, casi siento pena por ti. ¡Jaja!

Romantic: ¡Ugh...! ¡Ayato-kun...!

¡No puedo creerlo! ¡Creí que eran de verdad! ¡Yo—!

Ayato: ¡Jajaja! ¿Cómo pudiste creer algo así? ¡Realmente eres idiota, Chibimushi! ¡Jaja!

Romantic: ( Al final... sólo estaba burlándose de mí, otra vez. Pero está vez... Ayato-kun cruzó la línea. Me siento... )

( No puedo creer que me deje engañar, ¡yo nunca aprendo! )

Ayato: Ah, jeje... me duele el estómago. No debí haberme reído tanto...

Toma, nerd.

❁ㅤEl bermejo extendió un pequeño pañuelo blanco de uno de los bolsillos de su pantalón y se lo entregó al menor con cierto tono burlón.

Romantic: ...Gracias.

❁ㅤSuspiró, tomando el pedazo de papel para limpiarse la boca. Había hecho un total desorden.

Ayato: Ese es el Chibimushi que conozco.

¡Bien! Esto me está dando hambre, así que cambiemos de planes, ¿vale? Terminemos ese pastel tú y yo juntos.

Asegúrate de disfrutar cada bocado, así que quita esa cara. Te guste o no, es un regalo para ti.

Romantic: ...De acuerdo, lo prometo.

( No sé qué pensar... )

—Monólogo.—

Ayato-kun y yo no teníamos cubiertos durante la clase libre, así que nos comimos todo el pastel usando nuestras manos. Asegurándonos de no tirar nada al piso.

Para ser honesto, yo tenía muchas sobras en mi «plato». No tenía bastante apetito en ese entonces, así que simplemente se lo di todo a él.

No porque no estuviera delicioso o porque quisiera despreciar el detalle. Sin embargo, la presencia de un escorpión, aunque sea de caramelo o incluso como adorno, me parece muy desagradable.

Tuve que comerme al menos cinco de ellos, y me imaginé sus piernas moviéndose cuando los mordí, o peor aún, sus aguijones clavados en mi lengua mientras masticaba.

Al final, parece que a Ayato-kun le gustó más el pastel que compró que a mí.

ーー FIN DEL DARK 07 ーー

Comentario del admin 🧚🏻‍♀️

Quizás se esten preguntando por qué esto está en mi blog principal y no en @lovebatty... Bueno, es que estaba editando esta publicación y luego me di cuenta de que este era el blog equivocado 😭 qué gracioso.

Pero no importa, ojalá no me vuelva a pasar. Como puedes ver, vimos más comportamiento cruel de Ayato en este punto de la historia❕ Este capítulo me da escalofríos, porque realmente NO me gustan los alacranes / escorpiones❕❕ Pobre Romi, él no merecía.ㅤ(⁠ ⁠；⁠∀⁠；⁠)

Si les gusto, consideren darle a esta publicación un fav, rebloguear y, por qué no, incluso seguirme❕ Como siempre, muchas gracias por leer. Qué tengan un maravilloso día.

[sissy-frydda]

Mis tios se reunieron a hablar por mi comportamiento, al tío Juan le preocupaba que en algún juego con mis primas, mi semen adolescente no acabará solo en una bombacha, sino embarazando a sus hijas. Mi tía Sophie por su parte estaba más preocupada por mi bienestar y anhelaba que yo pudiera ser feliz, sin ningún prejuicio.

Sophie: "Oh vamos Juan, si el chico es sumiso y más femenino que las niñas, eso no va a pasar... Me preocupa que alguien pueda abusar de él. Supe que lo hiciste sentar en tu bragueta mientras lo tocabas sobre la ropa interior... Eres un cerdo!"

Juan:"Oh vamos cariño era para darle un ligero escarmiento por usar bragas y vestidos, además tu sobrino gimió como una putita mientras lo frotaba sobre mi verga"

Sophie:"Cerdo te viniste encima y lo mojaste con semen, eso lo puede afectar."

Juan: Al menos estoy de acuerdo contigo conque el chico es un sumiso, tenía su pequeño bulto de marica en la palma de mi mano y cuando me sobrevino el orgasmo, empecé a sentir que gemia y su leche me corría por los dedos. Es un marica muy sensible a los estímulos masculinos, deberías hablar con el, tal vez prestarle alguno de tus juguetes, para que se vaya acostumbrando. Maldito marica, de solo acordarme tengo esta poderosa ereccion, ven aquí Sophie, voy a cojer tu hermosa cara"

Sophie: eres un cerdo pervertido que se excita con chicos y.... Agghhhh... Ogghhh.... Slurp...

Juan: eso es, así cariño... Tragate todos mis bebes...

Andrea, Laura y yo veíamos todo escondidas en el ropero, las tres mojamos las bragas simultáneamente, pero en la mía había además una poderosa ereccion🥰.

----------

My uncles met to talk about my behavior, Uncle Juan was worried that in some game with my cousins, my adolescent semen would end up not only in panties, but also in getting his daughters pregnant. My aunt Sophie for her part was more concerned about my well-being and wished that I could be happy, without any prejudice.

Sophie: "Oh come on Juan, if the guy is submissive and more feminine than the girls, that's not going to happen... I'm worried someone might abuse him. I heard you made him sit on your fly while you touched him on his clothes inside... You're a pig!"

Juan:"Oh come on, honey, it was to give him a slight lesson for wearing panties and dresses, plus your nephew moaned like a whore while he rubbed it on my cock"

Sophie:"You pig, you came on top of him and you drenched him with semen, that can affect him. "

Juan: At least I agree with you that the boy is a submissive, he had his little sissy bundle in the palm of my hand and when I orgasmed, I started to feel him moan and his sissy cum run through my fingers. He is a fagot very sensitive to male stimuli, you should talk to him, maybe lend him some of your toys, so he gets used to it. Damn fagot, just thinking about it I have this powerful boner, come here Sophie, I'm going to fuck your beautiful face"

Sophie: you are a perverted pig who gets turned on by boys and.... Agghhhh... Ogghhh.... Slurp.. .

Juan: that's it, like that honey... Swallow all my babies

Andrea, Laura and I saw everything hidden in the closet, the three of us wet our panties simultaneously, but in mine there was also a powerful erection .

[bitbybitwrites]

Thanks to @forabeatofadrum and @onthewaytosomewhere for the tag!

Got a number of items I'm working on so here some bits for you: from a few WIP of mine.

1.) From the next chapter of Puppy Love (RWRB fic)

“Tia Nora is pretty fun,” Alex admitted. ”That’s why we’re best friends.”  He sighed and stared up into the sky. “I know it’s tough Raf.  Us being all the way in New York, so far from family and your other friends back in Texas.” “But Tia June is here. And I’m making friends, Papi,” Raf reassured him. “You are?” Raf nodded as he took a handful of snow and tossed it up in the air so it fluttered down on them both. “ There’s Milo and Becky and Thomas and Belle . .” “Wait, like the Disney princess?” “She told me she’s named after her grandmother.  Isabelle, I think?” “Oh.” “Those are my new friends at school.  Milo is nice.  He has glasses.  Becky shares her snack with me at lunch time.  Her mom gives her CAKE.”  Raf turned to look at his father with wide, amazed eyes. “CAKE, Papi.” Alex rolled his eyes.  “I doubt its as good as Abuelita’s Tres Leches," he sniffed. “Well, duh . . “

*****

2.) From Falling For You (Klaine fic)

“Who is Carole?” Kurt smiled and grabbed his phone to open up to a picture of his Dad and his stepmother smiling and laughing with each other.  It had been his father’s birthday and the two of them had cracked each other up with some silly joke or reference.  Kurt quickly took a picture to freeze that moment in time. “This is Carole, “ Kurt said as he showed Tracy.  “Dad met her when I was in high school.  And they fell in love and got married.  Now that doesn’t mean he forgot my mom or anything.  He just had a lot of love in his heart - enough for both of them.  Carole loves my Dad a whole lot.  She loves me just as much too.  She’s amazing.”  He leaned in a bit closer to Tracy.  “I’ll let you in on a secret.  She also makes the best cookies.  Remind me to make you some of her recipes some time.” “Like Christmas cookies?” “Exactly.” “Mr. Kurt?”   “Yes, sweetheart?” “Can I meet Carole one day?” “I think we can arrange that.” Kurt said.  “And maybe if we’re lucky, she may bring some cookies when she comes. “

****

3.) From Sanctuary (Klaine fic)

It was a good handful of time before he got to his destination, having managed to successfully slip by a number of the palace guards in the process.  Blaine was able to sneak just outside of the castle walls.  He followed a well-worn path into the wood to a small cottage hidden just a few feet hidden in the trees. In the front yard, a young woman paused in her task of hanging her wet wash to dry. She stood, she groaned, rubbing the small of her back.  As she did the swell of the growing babe in her belly protruded forward.  She smiled to herself, caressing her abdomen, forming a beautiful picture even Blaine could appreciate: her soft blond hair escaping from her kerchief, brushing her brow.  The young woman’s brown eyes danced as she spotted the princeling approaching. She dipped into as low of a curtsey as she could manage without tipping forward.  “Your Royal Highness,” she said in a soft voice.  “Good morrow.  I was wondering when you would come by this day.” Blaine smiled sheepishly as he held aloft his offering from the head cook.  “Mistress Fabray,“  he said proudly.  “I come bearing gifts!”

****

4.) Untitled Klaine Valentines 2024 Challenge fic

OK, am loving all the work I'm seeing from the folks doing the Klaine Valentines 2024 challenge set out by the @klaineccfanficlibrary

I got an idea for something, inspired by their first day song selection (Padam. by Kylie Minogue) so here's just a little bit from something I started . . The best way I could sum up this fic is this section of the story:

The young men from Dalton House weren’t just lookers.  They were well versed in everything from English Literature to economics. They could hold their own in academic debates while also using those dexterous mouths and tongues to suck your brains out of your cock.  Brains and beauty - and all of them looking for older (preferably more financially well off) “patrons.” Or so the rumors went.

So yeah, there's a bit of an age gap planned , Blaine in his mid-late 20s, Kurt in his mid-late 30s. and a bit of a Pretty Woman vibe to the story . . you know, hooker with a heart of gold type thing :)

And the selection from the fic so far:

“The auction.” Kurt’s mind puts two and two together. Elliot nods and motions towards the front of the ballroom.  Up on the stage there were three large gilded cages, each with a young man, scantily clad within them.  The boys were dancing as seductively as they could manage.  The two on the far right and far left of the stage (one brunette, and one blonde) kept throwing worried glances to one another as Dalton House patrons gathered at their feet, appraising them. “The ones on either end . . . despite flouting the refusal clause, they were caught with each other in bed.  Fraternizing with another student in contract is strictly forbidden.” Elliot said in a low voice.  “Nick and Jeff were just stupid.  I had warned them, but they weren’t careful.” Elliot shook his head. “And now I can’t protect them. They go to whoever is the highest bidder for them tonight, no matter what.” “And the boy in the center cage?” Kurt was hypnotized watching the young man sway his hips, his arms raised above his head, eyes closed to shut out the world around him.  Dark curls fell gently over his brow - curls that looked so soft, Kurt realized he wanted to run his fingers through them. “Blaine?”  Elliot sighed.  “I don’t know why he signed with Dalton, to be honest.  He just didn’t seem like the type, you know?  But again,  he refused one time too many for the administration’s liking. And now it’s come to bite him in the ass. He’s up for auction too.” “That’s . . . too bad . . “ Kurt murmured, still transfixed with watching Blaine.  Kurt couldn’t explain it - it was like the blood was rushing to fill his ears. And all he could hear was his own loud heart beat in syncopation with the music in the room: Padam, padam Padam, padam Padam, padam

OK . . tagging folks ( jump in only if you want to!) : @hkvoyage, @kirakiwiwrites, @little-escapist, @myheartalivewrites, @wordsofhoneydew, @14carrotghoul @fallevs, @spaceorphan18, @gleefulpoppet, @madas-ahatters-world, @rockitmans

[ctrldoll]

Tuition with Mr. O’Hara! ✎ᝰ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

GN! Reader & Miguel O'Hara

Genre: Fluff, A Lil' Bit Of Angst & Comedy (⁠*⁠´⁠ω⁠｀⁠*⁠)

TW: Swearing.

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If you can't watch the reel or you don't want to (You're so reel for that! <3 Okay, okay. I'm leaving!🚪👈🏾 🚶🏾‍♀️🚶🏾‍♀️🚶🏾‍♀️)

This reel had me cracking up which just increased when I realised how much of a funny scenario this would be between Miguel and the grandchild (his child, he decreed) of the grandma who owns his favourite small corner store! (⁠个⁠_⁠个⁠)

Peace and Blessings to You, My Love! <3

“Carrots, tomatoes, onions, garlic, chillies, cu...” Miguel walked around the store, his cart rolling and stopping as he made a quick stop at the sweet section and then the snacks section, wondering if it would be worth it to indulge just this once in his delicious desire before shaking his head as he left the area. He rushed back to collect a box of cookies and maybe that box of tres leches cake as well.

The store was quiet; a few customers were scanning goods as others walked out, younger ones waving a bye and ‘See ya, Matt!’ then beating their chests with a clenched arm. The young man with a tussle of dreadlocks smiled eagerly and beat their chest as well, then waved. “See y'all at the game!”

Miguel was glad for the quiet atmosphere. His senses were more at peace and not as stimulated as they would be outside of it. The store was one of the few quiet havens he had access to in a city this active and a duty to its inhabitants so tasking.

Suddenly, the rough push of the store's door was brought to his attention, and the rushed footsteps of two into the storeroom made him stare at the direction they were headed. The elderly owner of the store, Donna, waved at him as she smiled before scowling when she turned to her grandchild. [Name], guilty, looked away from Miguel’s gaze, which questioned the situation that occurred for both to be upset.

“Grandma, I'm sorry.” He heard you plead, your voice breaking as you struggled to put together words to reassure her. “Do you not appreciate anything I do for you? I always have to defend your foolish behaviour. I’m tired of it.” She tiredly responded, stacking up small boxes to remove and arrange their goods at the store. You grabbed some boxes yourself, hearing a hum from her as she quickly glanced at you from the corner of her eye before walking out.

“Well, that's the last customer, Ms.Myres.” Matt said, twirling the closed sign at the shut door, then removing his green apron. “Thank you as always, Matt. Heading for the soccer game now?” She thanked him as he took the boxes out of her hand and knelt down to place the goods in their selected positions.

“I have thirty more minutes, Ms.Myers. It's gonna be great! The two teams have had a bit of rivalry, so the game’s going to determine who’s better! My team’s definitely winning!”

“Hmph. If he’s the one picking the winning team, they're definitely losing.” You said, smirking as you took one box from him and arranged it. Matt bit back a curse as Donna was in the room and instead glared at you. Your smirk dropped due to the stink eye your grandmother drew at you, and you turned back to your task. “At least I make the right choices, unlike some people.”

“You want to say that again?” You scoffed and turned to him with a glare. Frustration built up in you as you watched him ignore you. “Of course it's like you to say something stupid, then shut up. Prick.” You whispered the insult and stood up.

“That wasn't a very nice thing to say, [Name].” The rattle of the back door’s ornaments brought your attention to Miguel, who’s hands were littered with dust and guided himself to the sink at the corner. “Your security system’s fixed, Donna. It just needed some new wires.”

“Thank you, Miguel. You're so kind. Feel free to treat yourself to whatever.” Donna said, discreetly showing him the pieces of tres leches cake she reserved for him and a cup of tea.

“I was just helping out, Donna. No need to give me anything.” Miguel responded and uttered a ‘thank you’ before placing a piece in his mouth.

“Matt shouldn't say such things, then.” You responded, glaring at Matt as you wiped the countertop. Matt rolled his eyes as he discarded the trash from the bin. “Then maybe you should act your age. You're not a lil' kid anymore.”

“He’s so stupid.” You said, watching Matt disappear to the back of the store and rolled your eyes at the stern look Miguel had. “Your ears must be pretty good for you to have heard me.”

“They are.” He smiled and chuckled when you rolled your eyes. “What trouble did you get into today?” Miguel asked. A frown adorns itself on your face. You looked away from him and moved your eyes to your grandmother, silently pleading that she wouldn't talk about it.

“They failed a math test. What bothers me was not that they failed it, but rather their answers when I looked at the paper. Quite dumb, if you ask me.” Your grandmother sternly looked at you as you looked away, bothered.

“They weren't that bad, Grandma.” You tried to defend yourself but froze when your paper was handed over to Miguel.

You knew that your grandmother considered Miguel her son, as she bonded with him when he was a child, and she was friends with Conchata, and the woman trusted her to babysit him and his brother. Miguel also worked in the store for a bit. They were practically family at this point.

“I quit. Imma learn how to cook instead.” You cringed as you heard Miguel’s deep voice repeat, the tone suggesting that he had a lot to say about your paper as well.

You heard a chuckle and turned to Matt, who struggled not to smile, failing miserably when he saw your glare admist your embarrassment. “Guess, I'm done for the day, Ms. Myres. I'll be on my way now. See you tomorrow!” “See you tomorrow, Matt! Good luck! I hope your team wins!” “I hope so too, Ms. Myres!”

“You’re in so much trouble.” Matt mouthed at you and smirked, then left. Your hand gripped the door handle, ready to chase after him, before Miguel stopped you. “Cariño, ven aquí.” "Darling, come here.” He motioned to you, and you perked at him from the corner of your eye. His look was stern, and his eyebrows hightened at your hesitation. You loudly sighed in exasperation, then headed up to him.

“I didn't raise you to make such noises, [Name]!”

“Sorry, Grandma”. You said and held back a tut. Now, in front of the man, the cola that was displayed next to you looked a lot more interesting than you found it before.

“Look at me, Cariño.” You shyly turned your head towards him. “Did you prepare for this test?” You kept quiet, trying to not look away. “I’ve asked you a question.” He said, his heart breaking at the desperate look on your features, but stayed stern.

“N-not really. No.” You said and quickly wiped away a stray tear that fell onto your cheek. Tears threatened to increase when you saw your grandma’s sadness on her face when she looked at you, her shoulders slumped in disappointment.

“Why?” He asked, looking through each answer you gave out. “Your answers really show that you don't care about your grades. Academics, really.”

“Umm...” You took a sharp breath. The atmosphere was so tense. You knew that anything you said might stir the conversation in a terrible direction.

“I'm just not really good at processing things.” You whispered at the end, looking away as your embarrassment increased.

“Not telling anyone about your struggles and not asking for help isn't going to help you.” Miguel responded, disappointment curling his brow. “Isn’t Matt your classmate? Maybe you could have ask- Nevermind.” He sighed as he caught onto the way your face scrunched at the mention of Matt. “If you continue like this, you’ll end up struggling a lot in the future.”

“I know.” You responded, and lowered your eyes to the ground. “[Name].” “I’m sorry.” You apologised for looking away.

“If you want, I can tutor you.” Miguel said after a moment, with a soft smile on his expression. “...What?” You responded, eyes wide at his suggestion. “You would?” You asked, in disbelief.

“Would you? Don't you already have a lot on your plate?” Your grandmother asked and walked up to the both of you with a look of worry on her face.

“I'd be glad to. With your permission, of course.” “Yes! Thank you so much, Miguel!” Your grandmother hugged him while you processed the new task you had in hand.

“Thank you, Miguel.” You said after a moment, with a soft smile on your face. “I should have just admitted it.” You shook your head and chuckled when you heard him chuckle. “At least you know better now.”

“Yup.”

“Matt’s gonna love this.”

I ship Matt & [Name]! <3 ✧⁠\⁠(⁠>▽<⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠✧ They're so cute! ♡⁠(⁠>⁠ ⁠ਊ⁠ ⁠<⁠)⁠♡

Yes!!! <3 ⊂⁠(⁠(⁠・⁠▽⁠・⁠)⁠)⁠⊃ (⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠)⁠つ⁠⊂⁠(⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠)

[kanamori-kamper-moved]

Tres Leches Cake

Written for @ygorarepairweek!

YGO Rarepair Week 1 - Prompt is Sweets/Desserts - Fathershipping

~~~ Vetrix has always had an eye for baking, it’s always been there. Even when him and Faker were cooped up in that lab, he always baked nice little tea cakes, although he never accepted them, let alone his tea. He remembered it so clearly, to see the shards of the teacup splayed all about the ground. He detested Faker for the act, but he never let it show.

But now, he kind of missed it. He was so petite that he could barely reach the top of the kitchen counter, always having to drag over a stool or ask one of his kids to hold him up so he could get something.

He’d barely had time to bake as he used to. Oh, such a shame.

It was sad, really, to be reduced to such a pitiful thing. But it was okay, because Kazuma didn’t mind. When they’d reunited he had expected him to be disgusted, to wonder where the old him had been, to never speak to him again. Maybe he was just scared, because the moment Kazuma saw him again, it seemed he’d loved him even more than before.

It was almost like nothing changed.

He’s hesitant, however. It’s a maelstrom of “Can I do this?” and “Is it wrong?”, to the point it makes his head spin. Because Kazuma is married, after all. Vetrix has met his wife multiple times, she’s a nice lady, this has to go against some type of rule.

But he doesn’t have the time to dwell on it. it’s the middle of the day, a quarter past 2 and not a second more, and their outside soaking up the sun. Kazuma went traveling with her again, bringing over a box of tres leche cake he’d picked up. Even though he never says it, it’s a gift! He assumes Vetrix would like it. It’s light and fluffy, just as Kazuma is whenever he holds him close.

His eyes are starting to wander again, noticing Kazuma's smile. "Who's got you smiling like that?" Vetrix asks, setting down his fork for a moment, "It's you, I think. You're always so cute when you eat, y'know."

"A-Am I now?" Those words alone make his cheeks flush. (Along with his galaxy eyes too, which is pleasantly pulsing with color)

"Yeah, you've got a.. what's it called?” He takes a moment to think. Oh, endearingly air-headed Kazuma, “A sweet tooth, yeah!"

“It always shows whenever you eat cake or stuff like that..”

"I suppose I do." The blonde stifles an awkward laugh, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping the runaway crumbs from the side of his lip.

But he doesn’t suppose so, he knows so. It wasn’t his fault that sweet things always tasted so amazing. Kazuma always has a way of making things better, this cake included. He’s never been fond of big extravagant cakes (like the one Mr. Heartland had at that big party for the World Duel Carnival finalists, which he was sure it tasted like nothing but chalky, tasteless fondant) as it was always the small ones he loved the most, much like this tres leches cake.

He doesn’t love it, (love is too strong a word to place on an inanimate object, and love denotes attachment. Vetrix is absolutely horrible with attachment) and he’s still not 100% sure if he hates it, but he continues to eat it while not being completely sure why.

Visiting Kazuma, or just having him come over always tended to be a little draining. Most times he couldn’t find the right words to say, or just wanted his intrusive thoughts to win, to pin him down to the ground and kiss him until the both of them forgot their own names. Vetrix could barely function, like a computer running on the the first version of Windows as it slowly rotted away. But it’s always a relief, because Kazuma does most of the talking, anyways.

Vetrix has never been chatty whenever he’s alone with Kazuma. No one’s here, just Vetrix and Kazuma and over 100 colorful flowers that sit in the the flowerbeds right next to the table. Hell, Kazuma helped him plant all of them as well.

“I like the sunflowers. They remind me of you.” He’s shifted in his chair just a bit. They always point towards the sun, as if it’s their own personal spotlight. But Vetrix isn’t confident enough to do any of that. “They’re pretty, like you.”

He doesn’t quite remember the last time he heard Kazuma call him pretty, it’s been so long that the memories almost escaped him. He remembered Kazuma holding him closed running his fingers through his hair when they slept in that tent together, “The stars are pretty tonight, almost as pretty as you.” But the moment was cut short due to the most obvious.

But, out of no where, he finally has it in him to speak.

“I like spending time with you,”

It’s not an “I love you”, or an “I need you”, or “I like you”, nothing to ever suggest it. But the feelings there.

“And uhm, thank you very much for the cake, you’re very sweet.” He squeaks, feeling a little tinier than he actually is. But he doesn’t even realize what he said, having to do a double take. “I mean the CAKE is very sweet!” He babbles out, yellow eyes darting about.

Kazumas smile doesn’t go away, seemingly unbothered. Vetrixs shoulders relaxed, cheeks covered in blush.  

“That wasn’t so hard, now was it?” He chuckles as he cuts himself a slice. Almost as if he knew. “I’ve barely gotten to try this stuff, let’s see if it’s as good as you make it look!”

He takes his first bite of cake and briefly closes his eyes in contentment. It’s pleasantly sweet and moist, and Vetrix can’t help but look on as his features fill with pleasure.

“And you’re welcome, really.”

And somehow, almost magically, the tension disappears.

[miguel-owhora]

Since I can see you crave mig and Peter, I have a little idea- you know how Peter is a lil messy and definitely one to snack, he might put whippedcream on migs or honey- OH MY GOD IT JUST WRITES ITSELF frosting would be good too AND THE CHERRY ON TOP heh is that they get to shower it all off..together.. Maybe even dropping the soap..

hngfjchfhf 😩 peter would 100% introduce food to sex w miguel. slather his ass into whipped cream and eat that shit like fuck, peter's food motivated and would literally devour miguel. like hardcore. miguel would be shooting ropes and trembling and having to push peter away with tears in his eyes like that's how good peter eats ass

or stuffing his pussy w tres leche and eating that shit out. like miguel's embarrassed and would be muttering about how stupid this is but would actively be spreading his legs and grinding against peters mouth, moaning and rolling his nipples between his fingers when he feels peter's tongue digging into scoop out the cake.