#this is cringy

[crunchysocklover]

I love being cringe on here >_<

[nightshade-writes-stories]

Twisted wonderland incorrect Quotes #43

MC: oh do not get angry

Mallues: I'm not angry

MC:well you look angry..and bothered

MC: look at you your down right flushed 

Mallues: yes that is what happens

MC: when one is angry

Mallues: WHEN someone burns for someone who doesn't feel the same

MC: …you..burn for me

Mallues: …why do i think i followed you into that garden 

MC:why do you think i went into that garden

🎀(Notes: Ahhhh this is so cringe when i read over it but it fits him)🎀

[xxthisisabadideaxx]

[otakubimbo]

Mansplain

Miguel isn't good at flirting, but that should be obvious shouldn't it?

 Miguel’s first attempt at flirting with you was actually the first time the two of you met. He had arrived in your dimension because there was an anomaly there, but by the time he had appeared, you had just finished capturing the sandman anomaly. He was impressed, to say the least by your skills. The way you webbed through the air, you were graceful yet powerful. It was as if nothing could stop you, the calculation of your attacks the sandman didn’t stand a chance. He barely even registered your speed as you came down in front of him.

“And you are?” You ask viewing him with reasonable wariness, you could tell that he was at least somewhat like you.

“I am the head of the arachno humanoid poly multiverse” He states matter of factly as if you should have already known that. The sentence almost makes you giggle.

“So, you mean the spider people multiverse” You take your mask off, shaking your coils out now realizing that he’s probably not a foe and really is just like you. “That’s cute”

At that Miguel almost becomes a stuttering fool if he could even speak, you were beyond beautiful. Your smile gave a brightness that could rival the sun.

“Well, that could be said in layman's terms but I’m more technical.” He finally gets out after feeling like he wasn’t able to breathe, de-digitizing his mask so you can see his face. You giggle at that; he was very handsome but he seemed a bit awkward. Miguel knows that he may never want to hear anything else besides that for the rest of his life.

“Yeah, I see that so what are you doing here, in my universe?” you question, putting a hand on your hip. You had already assumed it was for whatever you just took down, he kept calling for people that you had no clue about.

“Well, if you must know,” He begins “This is a sandman anomaly which seems to not be a cannon event in your universe. And it is our job as the arachnoid humanoid poly-multiverse group that take care of these types of situations. This is why I am here to take this one back, so the multiverse does not collide. It is essential to keep the universe safe” he goes on and on about the society he created.

His appearance didn’t give the type of man to ramble on like this, but. The idea was actually something that you wanted to get behind and when you questioned if you could join, Miguel thought his heart would stop. He assumed he was wooing you with his words but truthfully, you just had a big heart, and it broke yours to think about the loss of other universes.

And that is how you ended up in the spider society, working extremely close to Miguel because once he found out that not only were you a skilled spider fighting wise, but you were also absolutely brilliant. You had such a mind for science that rivaled his own and your enthusiasm had him captivated when you talked about the research you were doing on society’s behalf.

Everything about working for the spider society brought you joy. Expect, for one thing, Miguel. At first, you thought working with him was going to be amazing. He was smart and driven, you could tell his passion from the moment you met him. But now every encounter with him is insufferable. Any given moment that the two of you are working on something he always makes a note to mansplain everything, as if he didn’t himself ask for your assistance. Initially, you thought it was just adjusting to working alongside someone else; everyone in the society was surprised that he even asked for your assistance. As time went on though, it was as if he doubted your intelligence which pissed you off and confused you since he would constantly ask for your opinion or assign you tasks that he would usually take on himself. Every task he assigned you was completed expertly, and every repair he asked you to manage, was done efficiently. And yet, when it came down to you working on things he would make his way over without fail to over-explain everything to you. You didn’t know how much longer you were going to be able to take it.

Now here you were eating lunch with Jess, rubbing your temples from the headache that Miguel gave you earlier from explaining how the multiverse works AGAIN.

“I truly don’t know what his deal is, Jess” you groan putting your head down on the table hoping the cold metal will relieve some of the tension from your head. “Why ask for my help if he is going to micromanage me the whole time?! And according to everyone, he doesn’t even ask people for help so why ask me?!? Next time I am just going to tell him to do it himself.”

Jess just giggles at your frustrations, causing you to groan. She was finding humor in your suffering. The two of you had grown close to each other since you first entered the society, Jess seemed to be one of the few people Miguel put his trust and faith in which wasn’t surprising at first until you saw how he interacted with everyone else. He held her to such a high regard, and you felt lucky to work with her. Now the two of you were friends since she was always the first one you went to complain about Miguel and your friendship blossomed from there.

The two of you enjoy the rest of your lunch together, leaving the frustrating topic of Miguel behind. It helped you calm down a bit, he really had been working your last nerves with all his commentary on your assignments. But you were going to stick to your word, the next time he had something to say you would just tell him to do it himself. And now you are working diligently on fixing some of the watches that other spiders have damaged. They were easy fixes that most spiders could have done on their own, but Miguel has designated you to be the one who fixes them. He claims it is to ensure that it was done right, but who knows? Everything was going well, up until your last one when your Spidey senses told you that someone was standing in the doorway of your lab and all your other senses screamed that it was Miguel. As you resist the urge to audibly groan at his presence, you continue with your work as if he wasn’t even there. You wish you had worn your headphones instead of just playing music from your speaker so you could really ignore him but you weren’t that fortunate. Your spine tingles as you feel him approach you, attempting to think positively that maybe he won’t over-explain how to fix what you’re working on as if he again wasn’t the one who made you the go-to for all gizmo repairs.

“Hey, you know…..” He starts and it’s as if you see red, he begins to explain how to fix the damn gizmo that you were literally already fixing. In frustration, you slam your tools on the desk standing up quickly, surprisingly this takes Miguel back almost making him stumble.

“What the hell is the point of assigning me shit to do if you’re always going to come in and explain to me how to do it like I already don’t fucking know how to do it.” You almost yell, gritting your teeth, and your face scrunches up in frustration.

“What” he asked, a stupid stunned expression on his face as if he hadn’t done anything wrong and couldn’t even imagine why you were upset.

“Literally every single time you assign me anything or I do anything here you are to explain to me how to do it. What is the point of assigning me shit Miguel if you’re just going to come and tell me how to do shit every single fucking time? Just do it yourself then, stop asking me! It’s like you don’t even trust me!”  At this point you were yelling, talking with your hands, and most likely making a scene that any spider with sense would stay away from. You were absolutely heated, and Miguel just looked at you wide-eyed and confused. “Why the fuck are you looking at me like that?!?!”

“Because I don’t know what you’re talking about. I trust you more than anyone, that’s why I ask you to do all of this.” Miguel speaks softer than you think you’ve ever heard him which quells your anger a bit and now you’re confused.

“Then why do you always come and try to explain everything to me then?!?” Your voice is lower than before but you’re still slightly yelling.

“Well because”

“Because what Miguel”

He looks almost…. Nervous? You don’t think you’ve ever seen him nervous before. Yeah, when you first met him he was a rambling mess but you just assumed that was just the adrenaline speaking, ever since then he’s been this calm, collected, calculated man who despite his instinct to explain things to you, you may have grown fond of him.

“I do trust you to do your job. I wouldn’t give you the task if I didn’t think you would be able to accomplish it without my assistance.” He deflects from your question, which starts to bring back up your irritation.

“That doesn’t answer my question, Miguel. I’m so close to just going back to my universe and being done with this honestly.” Your frustrated threat makes Miguel even more confused about what is going on. He thought you liked being here, he thought he was impressing you with his knowledge.

“I was trying to impress you” He states matter of fact as if it was obvious.

“Impress me?? What???” Your temper is still up, and it comes out harsher than you mean it to because now you’re the one confused.

“I was attempting to show you my knowledge and understanding of things. You know to impress you and show you how intelligent I am” he gives a huff in a really cute pouty way for a man his size, and this confession brings a smile to your face as you start being thrown into a fit of laughter.

“I don’t see what’s so funny about any of this.” His voice is stern, he is obviously upset at your laughter, arms crossed over his chest in frustration. He was cute, he was too cute and now all of it was clicking for you. Miguel O Hara had been trying to flirt with you, in the worst way imaginable. “Has it not been obvious how fond I am of you?”

You catch your breath, as your laughing fit subsides, “No, Miguel you were actually really pissing me off.”  He frowns at the realization that his attempts at flirting have actually been doing the opposite of its intended effect.  “I know you’re smart, you literally developed most of this technology by yourself. There wasn’t anything you had to prove to me.”

“Well I-“Miguel stutters, the great Miguel O Hara stuttered. “Well, then how was I supposed to show you?”

“Show me what”

“That I am fond of you.”

“Fond of me, you mean like you like me?” Your head tilts in the most adorable way that has Miguel flustered, the brown hue of his face getting deeper as a blush crept up his neck.

“Obviously”

“Not obviously actually.” You smile gently at him, thinking about all the times you have been so frustrated with him, and he was just trying to flirt with you.

“Well then how would I show you?” He asks genuinely, more awkward than you have ever seen the confident man.

“You could ask me out on a date, you know like a regular person.”

“Okay, so would you like to go on a date with me?”

You smile at him, and Miguel thinks his heart just stopped, “Yes Miguel I would, just tell me where and when” He does a curt nod, not knowing exactly what to say as his brain racks for ideas on where to take you turning around to leave your lab.

“Oh, and Miguel, by the way,” you stop him before he can “You don’t have to try and impress me, you already do.”

And the way you smiled at him after saying that he had to do everything to hold his composure as the stoic man he has tried to portray himself as but he can’t help the small smile that graces his face at your comment.

……

“You’re really gonna go out with him?” Jess asks the next time the two of you hang out, as you tell her about your last interaction with Miguel.

“Yes, yes, I am. You don’t understand, he was so cute when he was telling me that he was trying to impress me. He even BLUSHED.”

“Such a 180 from wanting his head on a spike” she chuckles.

“I know I know I know I know. But really you don’t understand how cute he was after I basically did put his head on a spike.”

“I could have told you that he liked you”

“And why didn’t you?” You huff, crinkling your nose at the fact she let you sit here frustrated with that man’s behavior for MONTHS.

“Eh, not as fun” she laughs at you, while you roll your eyes at her.

[aesuwang]

It is 12 in the morning but i FINALLY had a character idea for my SELFSHIP with bill and ford. Meet Demetro! He shook Bill's hand for a chance at a music career. I'll probably make a comic abt him soon!

I hope tumblr sees my vision, I am trying to practice the "be cringe be free" mentality rn

[evvyyypeters-fics]

Freak Like Me

Jimmy Darling x felinehybrid!f!reader

Warnings! Angst, harassment, female violence, abuse/ CA, fluff ending, lil cringe maybe

“Mommy! Look at her!” Chirped the small child observing me like a zoo animal, a pure smile on her face as she pointed.

“Don’t look sweetie!” Hissed her mother, yanking her on the arm as she dragged her past me. Her glaring eyes darted between her enamored child and my face. I could tell the difference in the scorn between me and her child, even if I couldn’t prove it.

It's been 3 years since I’d been accepted into the Freak Show, the glares and scornful looks becoming custom to me over the course of my life. I was born a freak, just like everyone else. Everyday came new insults and reactions, and I never got used to any of them. But I learned to tolerate it. To ignore it and keep a smile, or a straight face. Everyone in the Freak Show was always supportive of me, comforting me and giving me a place that finally feels like home. But no one was a bigger comfort to me than Jimmy Darling.

Like me, he had an obvious malformation that needed to be hidden in public to be seen as ‘normal’ in society. He was one of the few people now in my life who I felt I could lean on the most. I felt he always had my back, and in return I had his. I’d had a crush on Jimmy for ages, his generous behavior and bold, friendly personality struck a chord in my heart. His love and protection for the other freaks, the ones who couldn’t fend for themselves as well, he beat the drum of my heart creating a stead-fast rhythm. As well as that cheeky smirk he dawned.

When I first met Jimmy, I expected him to make fun of me just like the other people in my life. He seemed like just the right asshole with his charms, flirts and overall charisma. Instead, he had this soft look in his eyes, something tender and special. I think we truly saw something in each other, a kinship. I was born genetically altered during an experiment orchestrated by the now asylum doctor, Dr. Arden. His sick experiments trying to create human abominations. And I was no exception.

He believed that with the agility and resilience of a cat, if he mixed feline and human DNA he could create a modified human with extreme agile abilities, hearing, smell and sense. His experiment ‘failed’ when I came out with only the behaviors of a domestic house cat and a set of cat-like ears and a matching tail. He kept me prisoner as a pet until I was 12, I was lucky to live that long with him as he originally planned to kill me, but couldn’t bring himself to do it as I was the only one of his experiments that didn’t turn rabid or died. I eventually escaped when I was 13, becoming homeless. The cups I held for money being spat into instead of just being ignored like the others.

Sometimes people would see me and instantly begin beating me up, leaving me wounded in the bushes. But it seems that cats must really have nine lives, because I lived to meet Elsa, who found me alone and battered in a ditch. Where she invited me to join her Freak Show. Where I met Jimmy, with his clawed hands.

A Lobster and a cat was quite an ironic pairing. Jimmy still liked to tease me from time to time, holding fish out in his hand and swinging it like bait as if I was dying to pounce on it. I’d just glare and cross my arms like I was tired of his foolish endeavors even though I quite enjoyed his little quips.

It was Saturday, a perfect night for the Freak Show. Elsa had managed to save the show for now with a few more acts added to the set, and a few new freaks added to the cast. I was included at the time. Our best show had 50 people show up, and our usual crowd is almost 20. Which is enough to get us all by for a while. Our balance usually runs out by the end of the month, but with consistent show times, it was a stable income.

Today I was asked to do fortune telling in place of Maggie, who (not so) unfortunately died in a freak accident. She was a fraud and ex-lover of Jimmy Darling, so a part of me didn’t feel much sympathy for her. I hadn’t known Maggie during either of our times at the Freak Show together, but I don’t miss her presence regardless. I just hated having been put with her job, feeling like a fraud myself. But Elsa insisted that fortune telling was quite popular, and with my cat-like features it was even easier to market.

I spent the whole night giving vague fortunes to anyone of any age. I mainly had children who were curiously fascinated by the flick of my tail and twitch of my ears. I spent more time answering their questions than telling their fortunes, which was sort of a win for me. I let some of the, granted less-greasy, children brush my tail for a moment before they shrieked and scurried back to their mothers like a flock of chicks.

In the corner of my eye I notice a dark figure standing in the distance through the open tent curtains, it’s tall and dons what I could only make out as a bowler hat and a long trench coat. When I squint my eyes to take a closer look, the figure is gone seemingly, as if I had just imagined it. It was getting late, and I felt sleep washing over me, but I hadn’t realized how tired I must have been until now. Imagining dark figures in the distance was quite unusual behavior for me.

I had begun to pack up the tent when I heard the soft swish of the curtains dropping, seeing the hazy moonlight disappearing in the enclosed makeshift room, illuminating only with the small candles and oil lamps dawning around the furniture to make it more moody. I quickly whip my head around behind me to gauge who just came in.

“Sorry, I’m closing up.” I said calmly, trying not to sound frightened, but I knew it must have been obvious anyways, my tail and ears always gave away my true emotions. Not to mention the bug-eyed look most likely plastered over my face.

I didn’t relax any further though when I saw a tall man standing there, he donned a brown bowler hat and a matching long trench coat. His hands tucked leisurely in his pockets. I noticed a small scruffy pre-shave beard on his chin, despite the tilt of his head under his hat hiding his gaze from me.

“Can I help you?” I ask, eventually turning my body to face him, getting in a stance ready to fight or run if I had to.

He raised his head and I could see the glimmer of his brown eyes, a deep droop in his lids and a small mustache upon his lip. He smirks amusedly at me.

“Yes, you can.” He says in a low, smooth voice. He was quite an attractive man, I had to admit. But there was something wrong about him, and I couldn’t place my finger on it yet.

That was until he took some steps forward and began to entice me with his words.

“What’s such a pretty feline like you doing here? When you could do so much more…you’re beautiful. You could be a model.” He smiles at me, like it was meant to be pleasant, but it only sent shivers down my spine.

I went into a defensive stance as I began to back away from him, but he only got closer, easily cornering me. I felt like an idiot for doing that, but I had no other choice. My breath began to shorten in my chest, coming out as sharp inhales, my heart fluttering like a hummingbird in my chest and pounding through my ears. I was getting dizzy with panic.

“Don’t be afraid, darling.” The man coos menacingly as my ears begin to flatten to my head. My words choked in my throat as I scream and thrash in my head, only coming out as burning tears in my eyes.

“Say….” He trails, glancing at my tail with a smirk. I freeze in place from his gaze and yelp painfully when he pulls at my tail.

“So, it is real.” He scoffs delightfully as if he almost didn’t believe it despite the clear movement.

“My…what a beautiful specimen you are, indeed…” He says slowly, taking his time with each syllable like a long breath. He reaches out for my hair and squishes it between his fingers, a new sort of mischievous grin on his face. One that is dark and disturbing and makes my hair stand up.

He starts to move his fingers to tuck my hair back behind my ear, but suddenly the curtains of the tent fly open and I see a familiar figure standing in the doorway with a look of sheer shock and surprise on his face that quickly turns into rage as he drops everything in his hands and storms over to the man. They’re almost the same height, so Jimmy easily grabs his shoulder to turn him and knocks a fair punch in his face. His deformed hand created what I assumed was probably a harsher blow than average.

The man instantly dropped to the ground, holding his now surely broken nose in his hand as blood seeped through his fingers like a river. He lifts his head to Jimmy and they just stare at each other for a split second before the man silently gets up and sprints away. Jimmy watches him run, practically huffing with anger before turning to me, his demeanor shifts and his breathing calms as he gives me a soft gaze.

“Are you ok?” He asks in a concerned, gentle tone. He doesn’t even let me answer before he swings his arm protectively over me and begins to lead me out of the tent and to his caravan.

“C’mon sweetheart.” He beckons, as if I wouldn’t follow him to the ends of the Earth no matter where we were.

As soon as he closes the door to the caravan behind us, the welled up sobs begin to climb out of my throat, thick and hot tears rolling down my cheeks. Jimmy instantly looks concerned and wraps me in a tight hug, resting his chin on the top of my head as his large hands rub my back soothingly.

“There, there.” He says comfortingly as he lets all the emotions built up inside of me through the day wash over and spill. Holding me tight to his chest so I could hear the calm, melodic drum of his heart, beating lovingly for me.

The sound itself begins to soothe me, along with his tender massages of my back and eventually the storm of tears subsides. He removes his chin from the top of my head and loosens his hold a bit as he points his face towards me and gauges my expression.

“Feeling better?” He asks with a soft chuckle, a gentle smile painted on his face that swelled in my heart.

I nodded silently and threw myself into another tight hug where he began to pat my head.

“Jimmy…” I said, my words muffled by the clothes on his chest.

“Yes, Darlin’” He replied, our cheeky little inside joke.

“Can we cuddle?” I ask, my cheeks becoming a soft pink when asking, slightly embarrassed at the request. I didn’t know how he would answer, we didn’t have the cuddly kind of relationship. At least, not in my eyes.

To my surprise I feel him shift, a soft nod. “Of course.” He rings out in a soft voice and I felt as if my heart could have almost exploded from how hard it started pounding in my chest. A feverish pattering that rushed through my whole body with a light weight feeling.

Without another word we both stood in silence, unsure of what to do, before Jimmy started slowly leading us both to his bed in a slow walk. He sat down gently on the mattress first before scooting back and letting me crawl forwards over him, nuzzling snuggly into the crevice of his arm and resting my head on his chest. I was soothed again by the subtle rise and fall of his breaths, hearing again the rhythm drumming of his heart in my ear.

He strokes my hair gently with his fused fingers, petting the top of my head like a true house cat. A strange hum began to pull from my throat as he continued to stroke my head and ears, his other hand wrapping around my back and rubbing it in slow motions up and down my spine.

“Are you purring?” He chuckled sweetly when he noticed the low sound.

“N-No!” I blurt out, shy and confused.

“I didn’t even know you could do that.” He says, smiling and resting his head back down on the pillow.

“Me neither…” I mumbled, and he lifted a curious brow, dropping it and letting it go.

Despite the strange reaction he pulled from me with the massages, he continued petting me, each rub and stroke becoming stronger and more deliberate. I felt the urge to continue the favor, my fists kneading into his chest with hesitant nudges. He smiled silently to himself when he felt the soft press of my knuckles rolling against his shirt. My eyes gently closed, eyelashes splayed over my pink cheeks.

Lulled to sleep in his arms, we both fell asleep together that night, waking up in each other’s arms and sharing a comforting smile together. Things were surely going to be different around here now.

Taglist (you can be added or removed at any time):

@fear-is-truth @xkaisxjazzxsingerx @lemoniiiiiii @jazz-berry @marchsfreakshow @colinzabelswife @dearlizzies @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re @xrag-dollx @lacucarachapisser @alittleobsessedbitch

[mieczyslawn]

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ★ . . . oh mother, who is she?

[bkgsbratt]

Sweet Like Candy

Warnings: cursing, light smut, probably mischaracterization (If I’m missing any warnings please tell me!🫶)

Background: Bakugo hated sweet things, he thought they were a gateway to give people diabetes. So it wasn’t weird for his class to see him not even eat more than half a slice of his own birthday cake. It’s not like he hated sugar, he just didn’t like the gross aftertaste in his mouth, the way his hands get all sticky depending on what he’s eating (fuckin neat freak), the aching in his stomach that could come if he ate too much, what idiot would put themselves through that much torture just for 5 seconds of deliciousness? You. You would. So when Class 1-A decided to visit a sweet shop to celebrate a big rescue, best believe he grumbled about the suggestion until he arrived and saw- you.

After their latest mission, Class 1-A decided to celebrate, and someone suggested a sweets shop. Bakugo’s reaction was immediate and definitely wasn’t sweet.

“A damn candy store?” he grumbled, arms crossed, glaring at everyone like they’d betrayed him. “We just kicked ass, and you wanna celebrate with a sugar high?”

“Oh, come on, Bakugo!” Mina insisted, practically dragging him along despite his protests. “It’ll be fun! This place has everything—chocolates, pastries, even dark chocolate. You might like something!”

With a scowl, he stepped into The Sugar Nest. Pastel pinks and blues covered the walls, fairy lights twinkling around the room. The warm scent of baked goods filled the air, and Bakugo looked like he’d just entered his worst nightmare.

And then he noticed you. You were behind the counter, handing a cupcake to a kid who immediately took a big bite, grinning as frosting smudged his nose. When you looked up at the group, you greeted everyone with a bright smile. Class 1-A stampeded toward the displays, but Bakugo kept his distance, arms crossed, shooting death glares at the cakes and cookies.

You noticed his sour expression and couldn’t help but tease. “Not a fan of sweets?”

Bakugo scoffed. “Hell no. I don’t eat sugar-coated crap,” he muttered, practically daring you to argue.

You didn’t back down. Instead, you leaned on the counter, smirking. “Maybe you’ve just never had the right kind.” You reached into the display and picked out a small square of dark chocolate with sea salt. “Here. Dark chocolate—no sticky fingers, no sugar overload. Just the good stuff.”

He looked at you like you’d just handed him a grenade. But he took the chocolate, biting into it like he wanted to hate it. Only he didn’t. The bitterness and salt were perfectly balanced, with no sugary aftertaste.

“It’s… fine,” he muttered, chewing slowly.

“See?” you teased. “Not all sweets are just sugar bombs.”

From that day on, Bakugo told himself he was only at the shop to “keep the idiots in check.” But every time Class 1-A ended up at The Sugar Nest, he somehow found himself in front of the counter, accepting whatever dark chocolate creation you’d saved for him. Then, one day, he came in alone. You noticed him walking in, arms crossed, pretending it was a coincidence.

“Back again, huh?” you greeted him, a small grin on your face.

He shrugged, attempting his usual scowl. “Nothing better to do,” he muttered.

You handed him a dark chocolate truffle dusted with smoky sea salt. He took a bite, his eyes narrowing slightly as he savored the intense, smoky flavor.

“So, do you really hate sweets, or do you just hate everything on principle?” you teased, resting your elbows on the counter.

“Most sweets suck,” he replied immediately, then shrugged. “Not all of ‘em.”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Guess that’s as close to a compliment as I’ll get.”

He rolled his eyes, but you saw a flicker of a smile, which felt like a victory.

In the weeks that followed, Bakugo kept showing up, sometimes with his classmates, sometimes on his own. Each time, he’d lean on the counter, muttering about whatever new treat you handed him. You fell into a routine, chatting about anything and everything, and he started bringing things for you, too—a rare spice he thought you’d like, an herb he’d grown, even a small cactus he’d claimed was “just in the way.” He’d hand them over with a gruff “figure you’d know what to do with this,” and each time, your face lit up, and he seemed secretly pleased.

One afternoon, he stayed after the shop had closed, leaning on the counter as you finished cleaning up.

“What?” you asked, noticing his intense gaze.

He shrugged. “Didn’t know you’d be workin’ this late.”

“Well, I own the place. Sometimes, I’m here all night,” you replied, glancing at him. “Why? You sticking around for something?”

He paused, his usual glare softening. “Maybe,” he muttered, looking away, and you felt your cheeks heat up.

Gathering your courage, you handed him a last treat—a dark chocolate infused with chili. As he bit into it, his eyes widened, the smoky heat mingling with the bitter chocolate. “Damn,” he muttered. “Didn’t think I’d like this.”

“Oh?” you teased, stepping closer. “So you don’t hate all sweets after all?”

He looked at you, his cheeks tinged with pink. His hand brushed against yours almost unconsciously. “Yeah, well,” he muttered, “you’re the only sweet thing I’ll ever want to taste,” his voice dropping as his gaze fixed on you.

Your heart skipped as he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was unexpectedly soft, his rough exterior melting as his hand found your waist. You could taste the chili chocolate on his lips, and you smiled, feeling his grip tighten.

When he pulled back, he smirked, his eyes glinting. “Don’t get used to it,” he muttered, though the way he lingered, his hand still holding yours, told you everything you needed to know.

You smiled, whispering, “Guess you don’t hate all sweets after all.”