"so, um...I might have possibly accidentally tipped the entire jar of cayenne pepper into the soup...and by might have I mean definitely" from the cooking prompts + Ace Trappola
The word “sweet” never really suited Ace. He would, on occasion, make an effort— when you’d informed him of your home’s Valentine traditions, he’d awkwardly gifted you with some last-minute chocolate. If you were getting unwanted attention from other men, he was quick to throw his arm over your shoulders and call himself your boyfriend. Not really the sweet type, more practical.
That doesn’t sit too well with him.
“—and make sure you keep stirring, so nothing sticks to the bottom and burns.”
Trey’s voice is smooth and steady as always, but Ace can feel something bubbling and boiling in his own veins. If he stirs any faster, it’ll go splashing out of the pot, but he’s clearly going too slow because he can feel the spoon scraping burned pieces off the bottom, just like Trey said.
“—what if she doesn’t like it?” Ace absently fiddles with the heat on the stove; when he turns it down, Trey reaches over and turns it back up. Heartslabyul’s kitchen is a bit more cozy than the rest of the dorm; Riddle doesn’t cook much, so he doesn’t wander in here often, leaving the place as Trey’s domain.
“She’ll like it.” The upperclassman resumes his half of the recipe, measuring out spices into portions for Ace to use. “You’re going through the effort of making something for her— that’s more important than how it turns out.”
“But if she can’t eat it, the whole thing is pointless!” Ace picks up a tiny bowl of freshly-chopped basil and empties it into the soup.
Trey shrugs. “If she can’t eat it, Grim will. They’ll both appreciate it.” He sets down a small jar of something bright red. “Only add a dash of that, or it will overpower everything.”
Ace is only half listening as he grabs the jar. “It’s not for the damned cat-weasel,” he grumbles, picking up the jar and giving it a gentle shake..
The lid pops off. It lands right in the center of the pot of soup, followed by a cascading jarful of bright red powder. Ace just stares blankly. “Hey, what was in that jar?” He keeps stirring anyways, not really knowing what else to do.
“Cayenne pepper,” Trey hums, not looking up from where he’s chopping vegetables to add. “It’s on the recipe card too, after all. Why?”
“...no reason.”
Later that evening, Ramshackle Hall is filled with the haunting screech of your doorbell— an unpleasant sound, but still better than when the ghosts used to phase through the walls to announce your guests.
You sniffle loudly from your blanket cocoon on the sofa. It seems like a regular cold, but it’s your first one since arriving at Night Raven, and it’s hit you fairly hard. The doorbell rings again and you groan, muscles screaming their protests as you haul yourself off the couch and onto your feet.
“C’mon, I know you’re home!” Ace’s impatient voice drifts through the thin door and adds some pep to your sluggish steps. Your blanket is still wrapped around your shoulders and drags against the floor behind you. When you’re finally able to open the door, Ace visibly recoils. “—ew.”
You stare flatly at him. The effect is ruined when you sniffle like a kitten. “You’re the one who demanded I open the door.”
Ace rolls his eyes and brushes past you into your lonely dorm. He visibly shudders, the bag in his hands rustling as he rubs his warm hands up and down his arms. “No wonder you’re sick. It’s totally iced over in here.” He nudges your shoulder, then his hand drifts down to the small of your back, guiding you back towards the nest you’d made on the couch. “Go sit back down, I’ll be there in a moment.”
You just sniffle again before coughing lightly, too tired to really sass back right now.
From your spot curled up in front of the tv, you can hear Ace clattering around in the kitchen; the familiar squeaks of cabinet hinges, the weak beeps of the ancient microwave you’d scavenged from Mostro Lounge when Azul wasn’t looking. An inevitable round of swears when the microwave fails to properly heat something— followed by a few crackling pops as he resorts to magic anyways.
Eventually Ace does join you in the living room. He’s cradling a bowl in his hands, setting it carefully on your lap so nothing sloshes over the rim and onto your thighs. You stare blankly into the bowl for a second too long; Ace crouches next to you and offers a spoon he’d found in the kitchen. “It’s called soup,” he snickers, “You’re supposed to eat it.”
You snatch the silverware out of his grasp and, muttering something like “I know what soup is,” you scoop a spoonful into your mouth.
It’s warm. The heat comfortably pools in your chest before spreading through your limbs and chasing away your chills. You’re a bit too sick to properly taste it, but you’re sure it’s passable; Heartslabyul boys aren’t allowed to cook without Trey’s supervision, after all.
Ace settles in next to you on the couch as you eat. The television is tuned to some old cartoon he’s seen hundreds of times, so he spaces out a bit, more focused on watchin you eat, your face slowly turning red.
You cough once, assuming it’s your cold. Then you cough again; maybe something in your throat? And then you sniffle loudly, your eyes beginning to water, tears spilling past your lashes and dripping down your face. “Hey, Ace, what’s in this—?”
Oh. Now that you mention it—
Ace sheepishly scratches his face and smiles shyly. “Yeah, I think I, uh… may’ve accidentally dumped the entire jar of cayenne pepper in there.” A beat, and then, “—and by maybe I mean definitely.”
Yeah, you wouldn’t call him sweet at all.
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Chapters: 4/5
Fandom: Our Flag Means Death (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Blackbeard | Edward Teach/Stede Bonnet
Characters: Stede Bonnet, Blackbeard | Edward Teach
Additional Tags: Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Alternate Universe - Yoga, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gym AU, how come Yoga AU exists and Gym AU doesn't, Meet-Cute, No beta we die of cannonball to the gut like CJ, Slow Burn, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Gratuitous amounts of innuendo, Stede is: in denial, They are very proficient at their own thing but not so much at flirting, luckily it just works out for them just fine, dork x dork, Blackbeard | Edward Teach Has ADHD, Competent Stede Bonnet
Summary:
Stede, happily divorced, needed a change.
Three kitten videos and a youtube ad later, he'd signed up for Blackbeard's gym and grill (and gift shop).
First step: Buy new gym apparel.
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