#i just wanna eat nice food and have more than 1 option

[baekuras]

I have been buying a few bio-products lately mostly because the cheap ones are too large/have too many...idk like potatoes for me to actually use and not end up throwing some away and

i swear to god

if one more thing tastes worse than the cheaper option i will never buy them again it’s getting really annoying

the ONE expensive thing so far that tastes better than the cheap one is the bratwurst my great grandpa brings from his local farmer once in a while (it’s really good and nice and soft even when you reheat it but with a nice crispy kinda skin, nothing that drags, nothing that hardens out, just the right texture in all the right places and good taste and everything <3)

but other than that so far my experiences have been subpar so i guess my taste goes

more expensive bio/organic foods<cheapest options<expensive local farm options but i’d have to actually be able to drive out someplace to get any so basically impossible to get lol

[waddingham]

oH Ted as the 'someone coming every week to cook and stock her fridge with meals'!! your brain does so much good work and I am so thankful we get to reap the benefits <33

yeah!!!!!! and i couldn't think straight until I got rid of it!!! here take this it's killing me!!

×

She begs Phillip to keep her on. She begs him, tries to double his fee even, to keep him from total retirement, but he's steadfast in his decision. 

The thought of hunting down another chef is horrific. But he gives her no choice. 

She blows through them like tissues for three months, suffering over-complicated meals, over-powering flavors, chefs clearly trying to impress as if she wants a Michelin star meal every night. She doesn't – if that was what she wanted she knows exactly where to get it. 

When she's at home she just wants good food, that's easy to reheat and easy to eat. Which is how she ends up finally succumbing to Leslie's repeated insistence that she give his man a chance.

“He comes over once a month,” he tells her, more than once. “Puts together some things we can freeze and just pop in the oven. Simple enough for the boys to do it, so Julie and I can have at least a couple evenings where they can feed themselves.”

He brightens when she gives and asks for his info, and when she gives him a call, she's struck dumb hearing his American accent.

She's running out of options, so she takes a chance on him.

×

She taps her fingers on the counter, waiting for the doorbell, checking her watch when she finally hears it. He's perfectly on time, but she feels like she's already searching for a reason to be disappointed with him.

He has a pleasant smile for her, though, and a friendly demeanor and a firm handshake and a handsome face – none of which she can immediately find fault in as they introduce themselves.

“I'm sure you're busy,” he says as she leads him to the kitchen. “So I appreciate you taking the time to let me peek at the kitchen and ask you a couple questions.”

“Of course,” she says, used to the procedure by now. Most of them have some kind of sheet they have her fill out, usually via email, but she doesn't mind taking a moment to meet the person who's going to be cooking her food.

“Oh, this is nice,” he compliments, looking around the kitchen, as he sets down the backpack hooked on his shoulder.

“Thank you,” she says, gesturing for him to claim a stool. “Though you can probably infer from your presence that it gets little use.”

“That's okay, I'll go easy on it,” he chuckles, pulling a binder from his bag and opening it up on the counter. “First, though, I wanna make sure I know what I'm cooking.”

He doesn't have a questionnaire or the like, it seems. The lined paper in front of him is blank before he scrawls her name at the top.

“How many people am I cooking for, first of all?” he says without looking up.

She licks her lips, her gaze shifting. 

“Just me.” She keeps her tone matter-of-fact. She hopes.

The way he glances up makes her doubt whether she managed it.

“Makin’ it easy on me already,” he says with a soft smile, adding a 1 to the corner of his sheet. “You have any allergies or dietary restrictions?” 

“No,” she says, then adds, “Though, I do have the tendency to drop meat for a while every so often.”

“A part-time vegetarian?”

She cracks half a smile. “Sure.”

“Okay,” he chuckles. “What kinda meals are you after? Breakfast, lunch, dinner?”

“Dinner, mostly, though I won't say no to the occasional breakfast. Mostly out of curiosity.”

She doesn't think any of the chefs she's hired have offered to make breakfasts.

“I make a mean frittata,” he grins. “What do you like, then? What are some of your favorites, so I can get a feel for what you want?”

“When I eat at home, I want quick and easy,” she says. “The less steps for me, the better. I don't want extravagant, elaborate meals. Shepherd's pie, any kind of pasta, soups, salads. Fish, chicken, red meat on occasion, not every week preferably. Anything veg heavy will probably be a hit with me.”

He nods, taking rapid notes in what must be a very familiar format to him. He fires off a few more questions for her, elaborating a bit further on what she likes before switching gears.

“Anything you absolutely don't want?”

“Not especially,” she says. “I don't like to limit a new chef too soon. I'd rather you make me your best and I'll let you know.”

“Uh oh,” he smiles.

He does that a lot.

“Am I on trial?”

She opens her hands up, giving him a small smile and he chuckles.

“I've had six chefs in ten weeks,” she tells him. “So yes, maybe a little bit.”

“Why didn't they fit the bill?” he asks curiously. “So I can avoid a similar fate.”

“I don't think they quite believed me when I told them how simple I wanted things,” she says. “Too many sauces and sides and heat this up separately and put this on this. If I want a five course meal, I know where to get one. When I get home from work, I want to throw something in the oven or dump it on a plate and microwave it, not anything glamorous.”

He looks pleased to hear it – he seems to actually relax slightly, as if he'd been uncertain he could deliver on what she wanted.

“Well, I can guarantee you that going too fancy will not be a problem with me,” he says, writing a few more things down. “I'm used to basic.”

“Good.”

“I've got Tuesday afternoons free, if we're doing every week.”

She nods.

“Between noon and four, if that works for you.”

“I'll be at work, so you'll have free reign,” she says, opening a drawer on the island and pulling a house key from it. “Make yourself at home.”

“Alrighty,” he says, taking it from her. She watches him pull a roll of masking tape and a ring of maybe half a dozen keys from his bag. He rips off a piece of tape and labels it with an RW before adding it to the keyring. 

“If you ever have any requests, that number you have is my cell. Shoot me a text before Tuesday if you want it that week, or you can leave me a note.”

“Okay.”

“And let me know if you think of anything else you want me to know,” he says, starting to pack everything away again. “If you hate olives or can't stand Bleu cheese.”

“I love olives,” she says emphatically. “And there's no kind of cheese I will refuse.”

“Cheese is the best, right?” he remarks. “They're all good. Yellow, white, hard, soft. Even stinky, moldy…still good.”

She snorts a bit, but fully agrees.

“I'm pretty much always stocked with fresh mozzarella to nibble on so feel free to help yourself.”

“Oh, don't tell me that,” he says, shaking his head. “I'll clean you out every week.”

She chuckles as he throws his backpack over his shoulder. 

She sees him out, intrigued now to see what he cooks up for her.

×

When she gets home on Tuesday, there's a delicate cacophony of smells hanging in the air and she remembers for the first time today – after a long, trying weekend – that Ted was meant to come.

And apparently did.

The kitchen is spotless (thank God – chef number two had a tendency to slack on the cleaning up bit) and she eagerly makes her way to the fridge.

Each covered pan has a strip or two of tape on top – 35 minutes @ 175° the small square one requests. Thank God. One singular step.

If it tastes like shit, she's going to cry.

It reveals itself to be a lasagna and she flips the oven on, lets it get hot while she peeks at the rest of what he's made, then pops it in the oven while she goes upstairs and gets comfortable.

She notices the extra pan by the kettle when she comes back down, this one without a lid, left on a trivet. 

Three neat rows of shortbread lie within it, a note flat on the counter in front of it.

A little extra treat – maybe a bribe so I don't end up being Disappointing Chef Number 7 – and a thanks for giving me a shot. I'm told these are a winner with a cup of tea. 

He's signed it with a mustached smiley face that makes her chuckle.

They smell divine. She can't resist prying one up and taking a bite.

“Oh, fuck me,” she mutters to herself, looking at the biscuit with a bit of wonder as it melts on her tongue, perfectly sweet and salty.

Oh, wow. She glances at the oven, then the pan in front of her.

She might have struck gold.

×

Everything is delicious. He's clearly not a professional five star chef, but every bite has her in disbelief.

It's just so good. She was skeptical, but he even nails a shepherd's pie for her, dumping cheese on top without her even requesting it. Nothing is unpleasant or poorly made, nothing has her thinking to text him and tell him she didn't love it. His portions are more than enough for her and she frequently takes what's left to the office with her. She has never taken lunch with her to work. Ever.

His cooking tastes like dining at a friend's house, like family made it, like he loves cooking for people and puts it in every bite.

And the biscuits. She finished the pan before the week was even out, unable to help herself.

She's a little bit devastated when there are none on the following Tuesday. 

She leaves a note the next time she expects him.

Any chance for biscuits again? 

She's ecstatic to find a fresh pan when she gets home.

She's nursing her last three by the weekend, determined to make them last long enough to request more.

×

I hope no notes is a good thing?

She's been meaning to text him, tell him how pleased she is with everything he's made, but it continued to slip her mind.

How am I doing?

No notes is a very good thing, she sends back. Everything has been absolutely delicious.

Oh good :)

I love to hear it

The biscuits have become a problem though

No biscuits next week then?

God no

I'm hooked on them

Don't do that to me

You got it boss

×

She almost laughs at herself when she gets home.

She's turning down dinner dates and good-looking men in favor of a date with the container labeled prosciutto stuffed chicken breast in her fridge that she's been thinking about all day.

He'd probably get a kick out of the fact that his food is so good it's ruining her dating prospects, but that's most definitely not something she'll be telling him.

She gets herself a little bit of this week's salad while she waits on the oven – romaine with candied walnuts, dried cranberries, gorgonzola, sliced green apple with a deliciously sharp vinaigrette. She peruses the fridge in her typical Wednesday fashion – on Tuesday evenings she's made a habit of grabbing the first thing she sees and letting him surprise her – looking for the small container of sauce that the lid of the chicken makes mention of.

She chuckles when she sees it. Some of his notes on things have gotten more elaborate, sometimes teasing, sometimes with a wine pairing suggestion, sometimes just with a little smiley face. The lid for the sauce only says creamy pesto, but there's masking tape wrapped in a spiral over its sides, covered with writing.

I know, I'm gonna get in trouble for making a separate sauce for something but all you gotta do is dump it on when it's done! It's worth the extra step I promise! 

She snickers around her salad, setting it on the counter. 

It's well, well worth the extra step.

×

When she gets home on Tuesday, she's unexpectedly greeted by a strong, delicious smell and noise from the kitchen. She leaves her heels and her coat before turning into the kitchen.

Ted's at the stove, looking almost mortified as he immediately starts apologizing.

“I'm sorry, Rebecca, I'm so behind today, but this is my last one and then I'll clean up and get out of here–” he rambles, but she's taking him in more than listening. Namely, she's taking in his tired bloodshot eyes and his disheveled hair and the way his hands shake as he gestures to the mess of the kitchen. 

“I'm sorry–”

“No, Ted, it's alright,” she insists. “It's not a problem.”

“I'm almost done.”

“Are you okay?” she asks gently.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, I just need to finish this…”

She frowns and rounds the island, unconvinced and unsettled – he's almost frantic with energy.

“Come here.” 

He frowns as she pulls him away from the stove.

“No, it'll burn–”

“In which case I'll survive with one less meal,” she says firmly, pushing him to the dining table. “Sit.”

He does – reluctantly – and she gets him a glass of water.

“Take a deep breath. Relax,” she insists before stepping to the stove. The pan there has a sauce in the making, a plate of meatballs next to it, as well as a pot of water getting hot.

“What needs done here?” she asks.

“I can–”

“Stop,” she commands, lifting a brow at him before he can rise. “Sit. Just tell me.”

“The, the cream needs to go in,” he says. “Give it a second, then the other two little bowls there, the Dijon and the Worcestershire and then the spices.”

“Okay,” she says, keeping her voice steady, hoping it'll relax him, show him she's far from upset that he's still here.

She follows his instructions, pouring the measuring cup of cream in and mixing it with the little whisk that's already there. She lets it get hot, then adds the rest, stirring it in.

“What am I making?” she asks with a small smile.

“Swedish meatballs,” he supplies, sounding distracted. “One of my favorites.”

“Swedish, hmm?”

“Well, I can't speak to them being authentic,” he says. “Recipe was my mom's. And she's definitely not Swedish.”

It smells delicious – whatever spices she just added were warm and aromatic and it makes her mouth water.

“What next?”

“Uh, turn the heat down and let it simmer,” he says. “Needs to thicken.” 

She dutifully turns the stove down and then joins him, taking a seat next to him. 

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” he deflects, “I'm fine. Just…didn't sleep so good and then this morning was…I'm fine.”

She doesn't push, seeing how much effort he's putting into forcing a smile and changes course.

“Do you have anywhere else to be today?” she asks.

“No, no, you're my last client on Tuesdays.”

“Then stay,” she insists, gesturing to the stove. “Looks like enough for two.”

“I shouldn't,” he tries, shaking his head. “I should get out of your hair.”

“You're not in my hair,” she asserts. “I would enjoy the company and I'm most certainly not complaining about getting a meal fresh off the stove.”

He looks her over for a moment, presumably looking for any hint of falsehood before he nods a bit haltingly.

She smiles.

“Should, uh, should put the meatballs back in to finish ‘em,” he murmurs. “And get the noodles on.”

“Yes, chef,” she says, giving him a wink when he finally smiles. 

“I'll do it,” he says, and she lets him this time for how much calmer he seems. She occupies herself by offering him a drink and pouring herself a glass of wine. He accepts a couple fingers of a scotch he's apparently had his eye on for the last few weeks and she watches with interest as he takes a sip.

“Oh, that's nice,” he mutters. 

“The only one I buy anymore.”

“You have excellent taste, I have to say,” he remarks. “Thank you.”

She helps him get the rest of the dinner together and is glad to see him relax more and more, until he's smiling easy as they both sit at the island with bowls of noodles and meatballs.

“Well, it smells fantastic,” she says, eagerly stabbing a forkful of noodles and half a meatball.

It's delicious. Creamy and warm and truly everything about it screams comfort food. 

“Oh, Christ,” she mumbles around it. 

“Yeah? That one a winner?” 

She nods emphatically, eyeing him as she chews.

“Nothing you make is bad,” she mumbles, watching him take his own bite.

“That's ‘cause I only make what I know I can make good for you,” he chuckles. 

“Why's that?” she asks. He can take a chance on her – he's built up plenty of faith in him already. One bad meal isn't going to have her canning him.

“Oh, to impress of course,” he says with a crooked smile that she returns. 

“You've already done so,” she says. “I haven't had a single thing I didn't like.”

“I'm very happy to hear it,” he says, sounding very genuine about it.

They eat slowly because conversation comes very easily. Whether it's the drink or the distraction of her company, he's light-years away from the frazzled ball of anxiety she was met with.

“Safe to assume you don't enjoy cooking much, huh?” he asks her as they both scrape their bowls. 

“I don't think I would mind it if I had ever learned,” she muses. “But I've had a cook for most of my life and learning how now just to feed myself seems more trouble than it's worth.”

“You've had a cook most of your life?” 

“My parents kept one when I was a kid, and then when I was married, my ex-husband insisted on a cook,” she says, half rolling her eyes. “Thank you, by the way, for not inundating me with pork pies and sausage rolls and roasts and dousing everything in gravy.”

“I enjoy a good gravy, but, oof, that's heavy eatin’ right there.”

“Too heavy,” she agrees. “Though my tastes were rarely taken into account.”

He hums as he wipes his mouth and she finds understanding in his eyes.

“How long were you married?” he inquires.

“Twelve years,” she says slowly.

“That's a lot of gravy,” he says more seriously than the words might call for. She hears his meaning plain enough.

“Yes. It was.”

“Well,” his tone brightens a bit, “now you got me to make whatever you please.”

“Too right,” she chuckles, sipping her wine. “And it's always spectacular. I don't know how you do it, what you're lacing everything with…”

“Oh, I just make sure I put a little love in everything, that's all,” he grins.

She takes in the sight of him, smiling and content, his creased eyes warm, and she likes this. She's enjoying this. She likes him. 

It's so hard to know though, even as his eyes move over her face, the quiet stretching long, if she likes him or if she's simply missed enjoying a comfortable meal at home without having to do it alone.

Her eyes drop, aware of how intensely she’s looking at him. She's not sure when it happened but they're both turned completely towards each other on their stools, leaning on the counter, and his fingertips are right there at the edge of hers – the mere straightening of her fingers would bring them into contact.

“I appreciate you letting me stay and have some of your dinner,” he says softly.

“You made it,” she offers with a grin.

“You paid for it,” he returns.

“It's not a problem at all,” she says, meaning it wholeheartedly. “It's nice to have some company.”

“I'm gonna be honest with you, Rebecca, you don't seem like a woman who would have any problem finding company.”

Her brows lift alongside the corners of her mouth, a little internally delighted by his boldness.

“I think I'll take that as a compliment,” she grins.

“As it was meant,” he assures.

“In which case…I'll amend to say it's nice to have such comfortable and easy company.”

His cheeks round, his gaze dropping in something akin to bashfulness and she thinks it really might just be him that's growing on her.

“I’m glad you stayed,” she says, her smile slanting crookedly. “Even if I pretty much made you.”

“I didn't wanna impose. You were very kind to give me a second to…calm down.”

She's not sure if it's embarrassment, exactly, or shame that has him toying with his glass instead of looking at her.

“Felt like I was trying to catch up to myself all day,” he admits.

“I know the feeling,” she sympathizes.

He's quiet for a moment before he responds. 

“My ex-wife was supposed to come out with our son in the next couple weeks here, but she called and they pushed it back until the summer.”

His frown is back and his gaze is faraway, but she doesn't speak.

“Been here for almost a year now and they still seem to be getting on just fine without me.” He sounds like he wishes he could say it with detachment, but it comes out rather devastated. 

“They're in the States?” she asks gently, pulling him back to here and now as he shakes himself a bit. 

“Yes.”

“Why don't you go see them?” she tries, though she's very aware she's got the bare minimum of facts.

“‘Cause I'm still stinging from her snapping that she just needs some goddamn space,” he says, giving her a twisted, wry little grin. 

She frowns but he shrugs, lifting his drink to his lips. 

“S’pose it's about time to just get over it,” he mumbles.

“That's not easy to get over,” she says kindly. “Especially from someone you love.”

“No, it's not,” he agrees. “Ain't much love to lose these days, though. You're probably right, should just take matters into my own hands, hop over the pond.”

“Don't go too long,” she says, only half teasing. “I shouldn't be left to feed myself for a prolonged period of time.”

He smiles again and the sight has warm satisfaction melting in her.

“Oh, if I go anywhere I'll set you up, don't you worry,” he assures her.

“Thank goodness.”

It's odd how difficult she finds it when she rises and steps away. A part of her wants her to stay put, keep the space between them minimal, but she writes it off as a result of just how long it's been since she had sex.

“Now, I don't see any biscuits,” she says. “But I suppose I'll give you a pass this week.”

He rises with a soft chuckle, following her with his own dish to the sink. 

“No, no, I'll do it,” he says as he starts to clean up from dinner. “Unless you need your kitchen back.”

She starts gathering dishes – he must clean as he goes, because it's not nearly the mess she'd imagine would come from cooking four whole dinners. 

“Oh, for what? You think I have a chef on the side coming over tonight?”

He turns, expression scandalized, a hand landing on his chest as if he's been shot.

“Tell me you'd never.”

She chuckles, joining him at the sink, hands full.

They clean up together and then she pours them both another drink before she claims a stool, content to watch as he puts together a batch of biscuits. She watches him move comfortably around the kitchen, chatting easily with her, and it's making an impression, one she's blatantly ignoring.

She half expects him to try to leave her once they're in the oven and has her excuses for him to stay at the ready, but he sits again, waiting the half hour they need to bake at the island with her. He asks her about her job, how she came to own the club, and conversation wanders to and fro.

“I'm intrigued to see what you've cooked up for me this week, chef,” she remarks at one point.

“You know I ain't really a professional chef, right?” he chuckles. “I dropped out of culinary school actually.”

“Really? Why?” 

He lifts a shoulder. “I wasn't having fun. I love cooking, I love making food and feeding people, but I didn't wanna do it the way they train you to, you know, cooking in a restaurant or joining the race to be the next big something. I like doing it this way. Getting to know people and cooking what they like. Feels like I'm paying the bills by cooking for friends and that's…” He clicks his tongue with a nod. “That's just perfect for me.”

“Well,” she says, smiling at how clearly he loves what he does. “You're still a chef. Definitely to me at least.”

He rises when the oven chimes, giving her a smile. 

“That's enough for me.”

The biscuits have filled the kitchen with the warm scent of vanilla – the same scent that's usually still barely lingering when she gets home.

He stays long enough to let them cool slightly and cut them and she watches as he arranges them on the trivet by the kettle, just as he always does. He packs his things up then and she sees him out, exchanging smiles and goodbyes.

She's still smiling when she finally goes upstairs to change for the evening and it takes her a while to identify the feeling.

She feels like she just got home from a really, really good date.

×

It wasn't a date, so she doesn't know why she's disappointed when she doesn't hear from him again over the week. She doesn't contact him either, trying to recategorize the evening in her mind. 

She's very pleasantly surprised, in that case, when she comes home the following Tuesday and he's still there. She knows by the smell of something sweet and nutty filling the air before she even gets to the kitchen. 

It's spotless this time. He's not all anxious energy this time either – he smiles when she peeks in, looking rather uncertain about his welcome, but it still makes something deep in her chest ache.

It's rather nice. To come home to a smile from someone.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hello.” She lets her smile ease his uncertainty and her tone ask her questions for her.

“I, uh, wanted to say thank you,” he explains. “For last week, when I was…when I wasn't feeling so great, for being so kind, letting me hang out for a while.”

She starts to wave it off again, but he continues.

“I made a little something special for ya. Something I can't really leave for you to reheat later,” he says, gesturing to the ovens. “If you want a little snack?”

She nods eagerly, kicking her heels off toward the stairs before she joins him.

He pulls a dish from the oven and sets it on the counter. He fiddles with something there, but she doesn't see what until her turns, sliding a round plate to the center of the island between them.

Whatever it is is perfectly golden brown, looks delicious and smells heavenly.

“Honey baked brie,” he informs her. “With some walnuts and some fig jam, tiny bit of rosemary.”

“Oh my god,” she almost moans. “And it's what, wrapped in pastry?”

“Yes, ma'am,” he smiles. “Thought it might be something you like.”

“I can tell you already you're correct,” she says, rounding the island to find them some forks. “I can't wait to taste it.”

“Let me know how you like it.” She frowns, but he's got a small smile when she looks up. “I'll let you…”

“You think I'm going to eat that entire thing myself?” she asks, lifting her brows as she pulls two forks from the drawer.

“Well, I know how much you like cheese,” he chuckles.

“I'll share,” she says, handing him a fork. “With you.”

She doesn't even have the patience to sit down – she slices her fork through the pastry and creamy brie begins to ooze out. She scoops it up with some pastry, catching a nut and a bit of fig and shoves it in her mouth. 

“Careful, it's hot–”

“Fuck me,” she mutters without thought.

It's delicious. Creamy and sweet and savory, the pastry flaky and buttery. It's rich and indulgent but not sickeningly so and she’s in love.

She's bringing another bite to her mouth when she realizes he's just smiling at her, pleased as punch.

“Please eat some,” she begs around her bite. “Because I can not eat all of this and I will if you leave me alone with it.”

“Alright, alright,” he chuckles, cutting off a bite for himself. 

He hums, pleased with his handiwork. “Mm. Not to toot my own horn, but that's good.”

“Mm!” she hums, getting an idea. She steps away to the wine cooler, squatting down to look for one of her less frequent whites. She comes back with a pair of glasses and an off-dry Riesling.

“This was a bit too bright and citrus-y for me, but it might be gorgeous with this.”

“Okay. You’re the sommelier here, not me,” he says as she pours, then slides a glass to him.

“Oh, please, your pairings are always spot on.”

It does go nicely, complimenting every bite.

“God, this is lovely,” she tells him. 

“I'm glad you like it,” he mumbles around his own bite. 

“Did you make the pastry?”

He shakes his head. “No. Normally I would, but I didn't decide on this until I was shopping today and that takes some time.”

“How long did this take?”

She listens with interest as he explains how he made it, amazed at how straightforward it sounds.

“Christ, it sounds like I could make it.”

“Uh oh,” he says, eyes widening. “Am I talking myself out of a job?”

“Oh, hardly. Even if I figured out how to make everything you cook for me, I'd still keep you around,” she admits. “You’re good company.”

“Well, that's nice to know,” he smiles, eyes soft.

“Also, knowing how to definitely doesn't mean I actually have any desire to cook any of it myself,” she chuckles. “So you still have plenty of use.”

She winks with her teasing as his warm laugh has him tucking his chin, his crows feet deepening. 

“I see how it is.”

She can't help but take him in, delighted by how carefree he is today. God help her, she really does like him – she wants to know him better. He's so genuine, so unselfish and generous, and she wants to keep him smiling.

“Thank you,” she says when she finally really can't eat any more, maybe a quarter of the round of brie left on the plate. “That was very kind of you.”

“No, thank you,” he echoes. “It was nice last week, to sit and eat with someone and I needed it.”

She nods get agreement, leaning her hip against the counter.

“I won't, uh, make a habit of just hanging out here, though,” he says, presumably to reassure her.

Her brows tip, eyes on his as she lets out a disappointed, “No?”

His lips part, but he doesn't manage to form a response. It hardly matters – they're communicating plenty in their gazes, trading glances at each other's lips. The moment stretches, and stretches, her breath changing to suit the surplus beats of her heart at the intensity in his warm eyes.

He leans closer, tipping his head, and something jolts through the center of her when he kisses her. She returns the gentle pressure, daring to part her lips to close them against his. Her fingers curl into her hand at her hip with restraint, fighting the urge to sink into his hair or pull him closer.

It's too delicate, this lovely feeling, and draws a tenderness up through her she hasn't been able to find for months.

He eases back slowly and she catches the breath he stole. Her eyes open, finding his still closed and she watches his parted lips begin to tighten as he fights a smile. The sight inspires one of her own, pulling at her cheeks as he opens his eyes, the smile winning and straightening his mustache out.

“I, um…”

She rolls her lips into her mouth, not even trying for words. She has none.

He can't find any either.

She drives forward again, prepared this time with a little extra breath in her lungs, a little more confidence. He kisses her back with a little more something too and she can't restrain her hands anymore from rising to hold his face. She tries to imbue the motion of her lips with plenty of invitation, but it's not until she pulls back and he follows, wavering toward her, that he steadies himself with a hand on her hip. Her attention goes straight to the heat of it through her dress as it slides to a more respectable height on her waist.

“You are very welcome to linger here as much as you like actually,” she exhales.

“Oh, I feel welcome,” he says, voice low.

She grins, pulling him in again. “Do you?”

“I sure do.” 

He barely gets the words out before they're kissing again. She opens to him, tastes the brie and honey and the dry sweetness of the wine and finds it appropriate that he should be so indulgent. His hands finally make their way around her, narrowing the space between them even more. She's not sure when her arms found their way around his neck but they tighten there in response.

He doesn't let her go far when they part again, dropping a kiss on the corner of her mouth, her cheek. Her eyes close with the sensation, the scratch of his mustache and his warm lips. 

“I really like cooking for you,” he murmurs.

The way he says it makes it sound like a deep confession and she feels silly for how fluttery it makes her to hear. She smiles against his lips and discovers this isn't new information to her. It's in every bite.

“I know you do,” she says low in his ear. “I can taste it.”

“Can you?” He sounds surprised and pleased.

“Yes.” She guides him back to her lips. “I can.”

[pixelyssa]

Bye I am acc desperate atp I need helpppp

Basically I go on holidays mid July and I just know the food will be so tempting (and I’m so scared of letting myself go) and my family will obvs notice if I don’t have anything but I also want to have a nice time 😭 what do I doooo??!!

And even if i eat small amounts of things I’ve no clue how many c@ls would be in them

I will be so so grateful for any tips or advice u have!! 💓

ily stay safe bb 🩵

hey! if i was in this situation i would just heavily r3strict for the week before. that way the vacation will be like a reward. ofc thats probably not good to advise you to do 😭

maybe instead of that, you can up your workouts and make sure all of ur meals/snacks are nutritional (get ur proteins and ur veggies) vs f00ds with just sugar and sodium. and that can help u have the energy to up ur workouts too.

u said you might “let urself go” no honey, its not a choice… its brain chemistry. if ur thinking about the f00d ur gonna be having over a month from now… youre in deep. you won’t “let yourself go”. youll be anxious either way. youre not gonns get used to e@ting normal and then just stick with it, even if h do youll slowly become obsessed with ur image again soon and go back to ur ways.. thats the fuck of it all… might as well ENJOY ur vacay.

it would rlly suck to go in vacation and be trying to guess the c4lories in everything, and ordering what u think is the lightest option. you should e@t what you want.

you can still r3strict certain f00d groups. if i was going on vacay with my family theyd buy snacks for the hotel or wherever we’d be staying. i would avoid those, bc i would normally avoid them at home.

going out to restaurants id do the same thing i do at home when i go to restaurants, order something that sounds good so i can enjoy myself, whether its a salad or a big mf burger lol. and i eat till im full. (if u dont have that sense, leaving 1/2 or 1/4 of the meal on the plate is a good measurement.)

if theres an appetizer, i have maybe a bite of each one and say im saving room for dinner, (my family and friends know i get full easily) & same goes with dessert. if it looks rlly good ill have a bite, but since i ordered what i WANTED for dinner, im satisfied before a dessert comes out and i play it off that im full.

i would probably figure out what we’re doing for food and decide what is most worth it to me and save my c4ls for that.

id also make a list of things i wanna enjoy. for example: my trip to nyc i wanted to try

-new york pizza

-a pastry and latte from the cafe next to my hotel

-a martini

-something fried from a food truck

-any non american food restaurant (italian, french, idk)

-a croissant from this popular cafe in times square

and i just kinda rationed it out. i remember my bf wanted to go for a walk, i new we’d pass the bakery, so i pointed it out and indulged there. got a matcha tea and a macaroon & then played off being full until dinner and chose something light (i think i made us get sushi that night which is pretty low in c4l) another day, we took the metro to soho and we walked around ALL day, so by the time we got back to the hotel it was late. we ordered the pizza i wanted to try… and i didnt care bc i had 20k steps done. i was still able to have everything i wanted the whole time, i just r3strictied the things that werent on my list.

idk what kind of vacation ur going on but a lot of them call for lots of walking, so thats a plus. you will not g4in that much. thats why i said id go crazy a week before, so that i dont feel like im g4ining it just feels like its fluctuating normally.

either way if u let urself enjoy it atleast ur metabolism will get faster! (im toxic) lol metab week(s?) ❕

me and my bf are planning a 2 week trip to europe. 2 weeks before we go i would push myself to burn way more c4l than normal. and i wouldn’t w3igh myself in that time. in 2 weeks i could lose like 4Ibs and not even know, that way when i get back from vacation and ive g4ined 3Ibs i wouldnt even notice. then life goes back to normal!

i hope that makes sense, and i hope its not too much. i really hope u enjoy ur vacation & can allow urself to enjoy a few of the f00ds wherever ur going. 🩷

[blanketorghost]

A taste of Something New (Pt. 1)

"When I'm not with you, I think of you always..."

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Yuu vignette!! I did promise some Yuu pining pre-Azul catching feelings so <3

Fic under the cut!

Summary: Against his better judgement, Yuu wants to bring Azul a meaningful souvenir from the scalding sands.

• Pairing: Yuu Fujisaki x Azul Ashengrotto (one-sided), Azul Ashengrotto x Jamil Viper (implied, one-sided)

• Timeline: During/Post Al'ab Narya and Ch. 4. Pre Ch. 5

• Notes: Azul may be OOC? Have never been good at writing him convincingly imho

----

A simple, recycled cardboard cover. Lined ivory paper with the faintest smell of persimmon. That's what Yuu first saw when he got the idea. The item in itself... wasn't something that really caught much attention when placed besides its other, flashier patterned hard-cover companions. But it was what he could afford on his meager budget. Either way, what mattered was the content.

For the writing materials, though... pencil would be best in theory. But wouldn't that be a bit tacky? Careless, even? Pencil meant insecurity of oneself... leniency. It meant you didn't trust yourself not to make any mistakes. At least, Yuu thought, that's what Azul would assume, right? He was all about appearances. Maybe ink would be a better option.

What if he messed up writing, though?

Yuu picks up another notebook from the stall and ponders. He could always write two just to be safe.

With a heavy sigh, Yuu pays for the stationery alongside some trinkets Grim had gotten enthralled by, checking the price on each one.

Still on budget. Nice.

The idea of gifting Azul a recipe book had come to him on a whim, something he only realized when Jamil was guiding them through Camel market. Seeing all the foreign fruit, smelling such different scents than he was used to... Surely, this could benefit Azul's research for Mostro Lounge. At first, he had thought of just buying the book ready-made, full of expert recipes and images for reference. But wouldn't that be just... too easy? If Azul wanted a Scalding Sands recipe book, he could just order it online. If anything, Yuu could even accidentally gift him a double of one of the many, many books he had on his personal library. So why not make a unique one instead?

It would definitely be a challenge to write in such short notice, though.

To be entirely honest, Yuu wasn't exactly a foodie. His cooking was meant to be easy and cheap as to not go over the meager allowance Crowley gave him each month, and he barely had any time to indulge on cooking anything else than what was essential for him and Grim to survive. He didn't even know where to start. Compared to people like Trey or Jamil, he was already at a disadvantage. And his own skewed sense of self and ego didn't allow him to ask for any help in the matter, so he was stuck at square one.

All of these thoughts and others flooded Yuu's brain as he chewed on the veggie shawarma he'd been offered for lunch. In fact, if it weren't for the sudden disappearance of one of the orders, he would've kept on chewing at it while looking absentmindedly at the crowds passing by.

"Grim... what did I tell you about stealing food?"

"Fgnah! Don't look at me that way!! I didn't take anything! Why take ONE wrap when I could swipe a whole spit of meat from the stall? I'd get way more food!"

"Please don't do that. Ever." Jamil chimes in. And for once, Yuu has to agree with anything he says.

As the group recounts their orders, Yuu looks down at Grim, who's spared little talk after being wrongfully accused of shawarma theft. The little guy was glaring at the ground and had his arms crossed, tapping his foot on the sandy floor as he awaited an apology.

"... wanna try mine?" Yuu crowches down to his friend's level and offers his own wrap to Grim, who side-eyes it momentarily before whipping his head away.

"You ain't gonna eat it?"

"I'm not hungry." Yuu dangles the shawarma in an attempt to make it look enticing, some veggies falling to the ground.

Grim eyes the wrap suspiciously before quickly swiping it from Yuu's hands with starry eyes, basically devouring it as soon as he gets it. Taking big bites and making a little mess on his hands with the sticky sauce. "Mmmh! The vegetables are so fresh and crunchy! The onions and bell peppers are perfectly sautéed and the cumin really makes the cauliflower taste even better! Mnh..." Grim takes another bite of the shawarma, completely delighted. "The lime's also super refreshing. And the chickpeas are crunchy on the outside and butteyr on the inside! It's a perfect balance!"

"Hm. You can really taste all that?" Yuu asks, a little amused at his friend's detailed explanation.

"An'... *munch* this is *munch* just the basics!" Grim exclaims proudly in-between bites. "I could totally tell you every ingredient in this!"

"Do you, now?" Yuu hums. It may be a long shot, but maybe Grim's big appetite could finally be useful. He may not get ratios right, but that would be a good start. "... Hey, Grim? I've got a proposal for you."

[polyphonical]

Dragon's Head - Interval - Chapter 1

[ View on site for better experience♪ ]

Location: Downtown

〈A few days later〉

Kuro: Tetsu. Have ya finished shoppin’ yet?

Tetora: Ossu! Thank you for comin’ with me! Thanks to you, I was able to finish everythin’ I needed to do ssu. Are there any places you wanted to go to, Taishou?

Kuro: Me? Nah, I don’t need anythin’. I just wanted to come along for the walk.

Tetora: I see ssu. Then, where should we go nowーー Hm? Hmm~?

Ah, somethin’ smells super good ssu! Ugh, I just got so hungry, I couldn’t help but drool…

Kuro: Smells good…? Now thatcha say it, there is some kinda sweet smell floatin’ around.

Is that taiyaki [1]? Ah, it looks like it’s comin’ from that food truck over there.

Tetora: ! Taiyaki! I love Taiyaki ssu! They’re super delicious ssu!

Kuro: Oh yeah, I think my lil’ sister said somethin’ like this was happenin’. That there was a stylish taiyaki shop that’s only open for a limited time downtown somewhere.

Tetora: Stylish? Is there a thing such as stylish taiyaki ssu?

Like is it not the normal fish shape? Maybe it’s a dressed-up fish? I dunno, I don’t think it matters if it’s dressed up or not. I think people would just eat it anyways…

Kuro: I think ya got the wrong idea of what stylish means.

In this case, I think they’re usin’ stylish to describe the fillin’. Normally, it’d be red bean paste fillin’ or cream fillin’, but this place ‘s sellin’ a variety of different ones.

It could be somethin’ as light as a dessert or as heavy as a light meal. Like how there’s different versions of crepes [1] with various ingredients.

My lil’ sister says they’re really popular ‘cuz they’re like a taiyaki restaurant with how many different varieties they have.

I think she recommended the ham and cheese one…?

Tetora: Ham and cheese! I love ham, cheese, and taiyaki ssu! ♪

Kuro: If ya like them so much, why don’t we buy some and go eat somewhere? I haven’t had lunch yet so I was just startin’ to get hungry.

Tetora: Ossu! Yeah, let’s do that!

Kuro: Tetsu, here.

Tetora: Thank you ssu! Uumyu. I wanna eat right now, but I dunno if I want to eat standin’ right here. It’s a holiday, so it’s kinda crowded…

Kuro: That’s trye. We should go somewhere else.

Tetora: Ah. Then, should we go eat at the riverbank ssu?

Like, we used to go eat food at the riverbank after we finished club activities, right? It’d have a lotta places to sit down, and it’s warm, so it’d be nice to go there ssu.

Kuro: Ohh, that’s right. Nice idea, Tetsu.

Location: Firefly Riverbank

Kuro: Man, it’s been a while since we’ve been here huh.

Tetora: Ah, Taishou! I think this bench here is free ssu!

……Alright! Then, thank you for this meal~! Chew chew……♪

Mmm~! The sweetness of the dough and the savoriness of the ham and cheese go so well together…!

I always thought of taiyaki as somethin’ like a dessert, but somethin’ like this could be a meal!

I hope they add more meat options to the menu next time~ Like kalbi [2] taiyaki!

Which taiyaki did you get, Taishou?

Kuro: Hm? Me? I just got the normal bean paste one.

Tetora: Ehh? After seein’ all those options, you got the normal one? Why?

Kuro: ‘s just a personal preference of mine to get the kind I’m used to durin’ these kinds of things.

Besides, my lil’ sister brings home a lotta food from “stylish” places. Gettin’ to eat the normal version of foods is more rare than not. ‘s nice to have after a while.

Tetora: I see ssu. Well, it’s very Taishou-like to pick somethin’ normal like that. Chew chew…

Oh yeah, I haven’t heard anything from Tenshouin-senpai since everythin’ went down. What ended up happenin’ with the project ssu?

Kuro: I dunno. From the way Tenshouin was actin’ before, it must be hard to have to a lotta different obligations.

Tetora: Right ssu. That’s why it’s so hard to get in touch with Anego too…

Since Tomoya-kun and I were the ones who found the weekly magazine, we’ve been wonderin’ what was goin’ on.

I wish there was a way I could help out.

Kuro: To do that, ya have to come up with a plan that’s good for both agencies, somethin’ that works with the management, and somethin’ that changes the fans opinions who are strugglin’ with the whole issue.

That bein’ said… I’m not that good with variety type shit to begin with.

Tetora: Hm~………

────────────────· · · · · ·♡· · · · · · ────────────────

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Here's what taiyaki are and what crepes are ! I want some now (never had them ever ) .

This is what kalbi is! It's also Tetsu's fave food , so ofc he wanted to try some kalbi taiyaki . i think i wanna try this one the most actually

[tainted-by-skeletons]

Age Regression in Underswap! (Part 1)

After falling down a mysterious hole in a forest I was visiting, I found myself essentially isekai’ed into an underground kingdom full of fairytale monsters. I am an extremely weak person. So it didn't take me long to give up on escaping. Especially since I do mean weak both physically and emotionally.

“Hey kiddo. You're not allowed to go outside without one of us watching you. Understand?”

I found people to stay with. Two skeleton brothers who had a large house together.

“Kid.”

“Eek! Okay! Okay! I won't! Fine!” I shouted at the tall skeleton.

Papyrus was the oldest brother. He was reserved, but friendly enough, and easy going. I didn't actually like him much. His tall figure and secretive nature were just too intimidating for me. And he knew it. When his younger brother wasn't around he'd use that against me.

“What were you trying to do.” Papyrus demanded in a low tone.

“N-nothing!”

“Yeah. I don't think so. Do I need to-”

“Brother! Are you taking out our roommate?”

Suddenly Papyrus’ plans were interrupted by his younger brother. Sans was a small excitable skeleton who didn't have the best social skills but was genuinely sweet. He was my favorite.

*Sigh*

“No. She needs to go back inside actually.”

“It's fine! Everyone in Sunnedout knows we're keeping her. She still needs food. You hungry human?” Sans asked with excitement.

I nodded and shuffled over to the safer monster. Much to Papyrus' disappointment.

“You wanna go with me again? Why don't you ever want to have lunch with my brother?” Sans asked me.

“I…”

“She doesn't want me to mess with her food again.” Papyrus interrupted.

He may have saved me a bit but that was rude!

Papyrus and Sans are very close. So telling on the scary older brother wasn't much of an option.

“You two will never become friends if you keep pranking her, brother! You should be nicer.”

“Mn! Mn!” I nodded my head emphatically.

“I can't. Her reactions are even more fun than yours. Have fun at lunch bro. I'm gonna take a nap.”

“You get back here! I'm not do- heeeey!”

Papyrus went back inside the house and closed the door on Sans.

“I just don't understand what's gotten into him. Ever since we took you in and agreed to hide you from the rest of the royal guard he's been so rude!”

“I think I'm just too much to take care of. I can't pay for myself and you both are struggling with money because of me.”

“Nonsense! We get paid more than enough to take on a third roommate! And I'm sure we can find something for you to do to earn gold!”

I did actually have a little bit of gold. In this strange isekai world, if I get into a fight with a monster and win by getting them to give up. Then I mysteriously obtain gold in a way I can't quite explain.

“I hope so. It would be nice to be out of the house for a while. I'm not a little kid or anything…”

“You're not? I thought you were young.”

“What?! How young do you think I am?!”

“You look 12 or so.”

“12?!”

“You're not?”

“No!”

“Haha. Whoops! Sorry human!”

It wasn't long before we reached the adorable purple pastel bar known as Muffet’s. I was surprised Sans was taking me there. It was kinda known as Papyrus' place.

“What do you usually eat here?” He asked me.

“Just burgers and fries.”

“Hm… do you think they have tacos?”

“No…”

We went in and Sans ended up ordering a salad after becoming disappointed with all the greasy food.

“Hey! Why don't you work here? It looks like Muffet could really use a waitress. Right?”

“I don't know how to talk to her.”

“You don't know sign language?”

“No. I never had a chance to learn it.”

“Oh… That's right. You didn't. Still! I'm sure we can figure something out. Anyone can translate for you until you learn.”

But there was one more problem. The cute and cozy atmosphere of the bar did something to me. As a child, I moved around a lot. I wasn't able to make friends very easily and when I did I was forced to leave them soon after. Not to mention, my parents didn't have much time for me always moving around. My childhood wasn't a lot of fun and to make up for that sometimes I age regress. I act very childish and demanding. I cry at the drop of a hat and I'm suddenly not able to do most things adults are supposed to. Sometimes I can't even figure out basic problems. I wouldn't be able to work in a place like Muffet's.

“I'm not sure yet. But thanks for helping me come up with ideas.”

“Any time human!”

After eating I was surprised to see Muffet actually come up to us. She signed something to Sans and he responded,

“Oh. Well I'm just taking our roomie out for some food!”

Then he turned to me.

“Muffet wants to know if you like this place!”

Muffet gave me a sweet smile as she waited for my response.

“Yeah. I-I do a lot.”

“She says she's noticed you here often.”

“Oh. Yeah?”

Did she hear us? Is she trying to offer me a job?

Then Muffet reached for her pocket and brought out something I recognized. It was my pacifier.

“Eep!”

I didn't want Sans knowing I owned something like that but it was a really special comfort item of mine. I didn't want it to be thrown away.

“Wait. Why would that be hers? That's a baby pacifier isn't it?” Sans asked.

“Um! I was gonna return it to a friend of mine before I fell down here. She has a kid! So that's why. Um. Thank you Muffet!”

It was a really lame story but I knew Sans would believe me. He's super gullible.

“Oh that's so nice of you! I'm sure you'll get it back to your friend one day! We will figure something out. I promise!”

“Yea-yeah.”

That was close. In the bright and pastel room, I didn't want my blushing face to be so clearly seen.

“We better get back home Sans. I think I've been outside long enough. Thanks again for lunch. Oh. And thanks Muffet.”

Muffet nodded politely and waved goodbye as we left.

[absolutepokemontrash]

Aaa congrats on 666 :D you've been one of my favorite obey me blogs since I joined the fandom! can I request the brothers with an mc that looks/acts like they just walked out of a zombie apocalypse? Turns out that while the demons werent looking, things in the human realm went down hill ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

👀 I love this! Sorry this took so long! I hope you enjoy!

Lucifer

When Solomon popped down into the Devildom earlier, Lucifer had noticed that the sorcerer looked a tad… concerned. After he left, Lucifer thought nothing of it until the second human exchange student appeared brandishing a gun and looking like they hadn’t showered in eight days.

After managing to disarm the human and avoiding the baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire, Lucifer managed to explain exactly why the human was in the Devildom and what was going on. In return, the human calmed down and explained what was going on in the human world.

…geez, shit really hit the fan. Uh… Lucifer wished them luck in their exchange year and foisted them off on Mammon. Lucifer was not about to deal with that right then.

(Apparently one of Solomon’s necromancing acquaintances had something to do with the mini apocalypse going on in the human world. Lucifer and MC were assured that the zombie problem was being dealt with)

As confused and annoyed as Lucifer was at first, he quickly became glad that the human had some kind of self defence on them. The Devildom was a dangerous place, and the human could nullify some of that danger by popping a bullet or twelve into some idiots’ heads.

But one of MC’s more annoying habits were their tendency to set traps and hoard food. They didn’t seem to grasp that lack of food wasn’t an issue and that there were plenty of spells in place to make sure-

Okay, Beel just raided the fridge. Maybe MC had the right idea. Up for sharing some spaghetti-o’s?

Mammon

Now listen here! The Great and Amazing and Mega-Sexy Mammon wasn’t scared of the human at all! Got it?! Good. He wasn’t scared of how dishevelled and dirty they were and how they looked like they just crawled out of a horror movie! Not at all! He also wasn’t scared of the baseball bat they threatened to hit him with if he continued to spout threats of eating them.

Pff, he wasn’t scared… totally not scared… *ahem*

Once the human took a bath and stopped pointing their various weapons at him, Mammon quickly began to warm up to the human in their own tsundere kind of way. Fine, he could admit that MC was kinda cool.

The one thing that Mammon just couldn’t deal with was MC’s traps… he kept setting them off while trying to get into MC’s room!

Oi! Don’t look at him like that! He wasn’t tryin’ to steal anything! He also wasn’t goin’ in there to hang out with the dumb human either! Wasn’t goin’ in there to check on em’ and make sure they were comfortable…

Mammon is also #2 in terms of food theft in the house. He just spotted ramen and decided that possibly getting hit with MC’s baseball bat of pain was worth getting his greedy little mitts on some dollar store noodles.

Leviathan

When Levi went downstairs to threaten Mammon for his money back, Levi immediately recoiled at the absolutely fowl smell coming from the human. Ew, normie stink was getting all over him! And why did they look like they just walked out of TellTale’s The Walking Dead?

Once MC explained their situation, Levi took it upon himself to mansplain the zombie apocalypse to the poor human that was going through it. He had played plenty of zombie survival games and he was surely the expert-

AAKSJAKAJANA- PUT THE BAT DOWN! HE’LL SHUT UP! HE’LL SHUT UP!

After that was over and done with, Levi decided it would be his job to reintroduce MC to some quality entertainment. There couldn’t be that many good shows to watch in the apocalypse, so MC (starved for entertainment) agreed to watch whatever Levi wanted.

Food hoarding? Been there done that. Levi keeps at least ten boxes of Pocky in his room at all times, and a crap ton of other snack foods too. That habit doesn’t phase Levi.

The traps on the other hand? HELL YES TEACH HIM MC! THAT’LL WARD OFF SOME SCUMMY MORONS! *insert Levi cackle here*

Satan

Satan was amongst the people who had the privilege of getting a gun pointed at them on the first day of the exchange program. He kept his fake little smile on his face, but he sure as hell wasn’t too pleased with the human.

He kept his distance at first, studying MC from afar and taking note of their weird little habits. Satan found it quite interesting how quickly this seemingly average human adapted to their new circumstances.

After the body switching incident and the murder train incident, Satan developed a fondness for MC. But… maybe MC shouldn’t have brought their weapons with them on one of their hangout sessions with Satan.

It was on that day that MC learned that Satan was as good a shot with a gun as they were… Rest in Pieces to the idiot that decided fucking with the Avatar of Wrath would be a good idea.

The traps… oh yes the traps… that exact skill set transferred perfectly to pranks! Oh if MC would be so kind as to let Satan teach them the way of the bastard (tm) so the two of them could annoy that pompous peacock together?

Asmodeus

Ewwwww! What was that awful stench coming from the- EWWWWW! Why was the human so gross and dirty! Someone get the hose! They summoned a feral one!

Asmo was less concerned with the fact that the human was threatening everyone with an actual weapon and more concerned with how they smelled like a month old macaroni salad.

MC got a bottle of admittedly pleasant smelling soap thrown at them before Mammon dragged them off to the HOL.

Despite the nasty first impression, once MC took a much needed bath and washed all that gross grime off of themselves… they were honestly really hot… man, apocalypses should happen more often if they produce babes like MC~ *eyebrow wiggle*

Though, the poor human still needed some work, Asmo declared himself their fairy goddaddy (I regret ever learning how to type) and took every opportunity to make sure MC looked their best and took care of themselves.

MC’s odd habits don’t exactly phase Asmo much, I mean, look at who he lives with.

Beelzebub

…he doesn’t wanna eat this human.

Listen, Beel will eat anything, but if he has other options, he’s not eating the gross dirty human pointing a gun at him.

At first, Beel’s pretty neutral towards anything and everything MC ends up doing. They barricaded themselves in their room to keep safe out of habit? Okay. They scarily polish and clean their weapons out in the middle of the living room? So does Satan on occasion. They cleared out the fridge- wait they cleared out the fridge?

BEEL WAS GOING TO DO THAT! PREPARE TO BE EATEN, HUMAN!

MC miraculously survived a hungry Beel attack by chucking food at him until he calmed back down. Beel felt a little bad for scaring them, but anyone with more than five brain cells should know not to steal food from the Avatar of Gluttony.

Anyway, once the two get closer, Beel’s always there for a hug and comfort if MC needs it. Just don’t let him near the food hoard. He will reduce it to nothing in less than an hour.

More than 90% of the traps that get set off are set off by Beel trying to get into MC’s room for food.

Belphegor

Father Dammit, Belphie wanted a nice easy defenceless human to murder, not this Rambo-lookalike. Whatever, sure the human looked tough, but Belphie’s a demon.

Well… Belphegor’s plan went to shit when he was in the middle of choking the human, who pulled out a gun and nearly shot him in the eye. He ended up dropping them in surprise when the bullet grazed his face and ended up getting MC’s boot planted into his forehead.

Yeah… Belphie did not fare well. MC: 1 Belphie: 0

After that nonsense, Belphie demanded begged that MC become his full time nap guardian. They were scary and could protect him, the totally defenceless war criminal 🥺, come on MC, don’t be heartless!

Similar to Asmo, Belphie isn’t too phased by MC’s weird habits. As long as they don’t try and steal his pillows, he’s okay. Those traps though… perfect for a certain older brother of his…

He joins in on Satan’s crusade to get MC to join the Anti Lucifer League. Puh-LEEEEEEEAAAAAASE MC?

[a-simp-20]

💕🌧Rainy Nights🌧💕 [Chishiya S. X F! Reader] {Pre-Borderland AU}

AIB Masterlist

Character's: Chishiya Shuntaro, Y/n

Summary: it's Night and and it's raining outside. The sound of rain was calming and chishiya and you decided to have a relaxing time with each other at home by making dinner and cuddling <3.

Warning!: Kinda OOC chishiya :^

Genre: Fluff🌸

Word count: 755 [very short but very fluffy at the same time <3]

Tag's: -

Enjoy ^-^/~~

You are in the living room watching some TV with your Boyfriend Chishiya. You sitting on the couch while him on the floor sitting right between your legs, his face facing the TV ad you stroke his Blond hair calming him, as the sound of Rain comes from the outside on your's and his house.

Chishiya Grabbed the remote and turned off the TV, You stared down at him "Is anything wrong?, and also I was still watching y'Know?" You say as you stopped stroking his head as he got up from the floor and sat right next to you "Shouldn't we be doing something else than just watch lame TV?, maybe some activities?" He asked with a cat smirk on his face "What? You wanna play Board games or something? I thought you don't like those things" You say and chuckled "I know but I want to try other than that, maybe something relaxing?" He asked as he puts his head on your shoulder while looking up at your face "Well we could just cuddle?, or maybe take a nice warm bath together? Or maybe baking! Yeah baking!" You say Excitedly "I think I like Option number 1 more" Chishiya say's as he buried his head into your neck snuggling in it, you sighed in relaxation.

"Fine we can cuddle..but before that let's make some food first!" You say pushing his head away from your neck, he groans "Fine but no sweets, maybe noodles?" He asked looking at you as you shook your head "No!, how about some Tamagoyaki and Rice?" You asked with a bright smile, that Smile that made Chishiya's heart melt every time he sees it "Okay, anything for you Dear~" He say's and peck's your cheek as you giggle.

Both of you got up and went to the kitchen. You got all the supplies out and Chishiya grab's the ingredients from the fridge as he put them on the kitchen counter "Let's get started!" You say excitedly as Chishiya just smile's lazily at you. Chishiya got started on making the Tamagoyaki, which caused 4 egg's, soy sauce, and other ingredients that he needs to add inside th bowl full of egg's. After putting all the ingredients inside the bowl, you mixed them while chishiya just stand's there right beside you looking at you from beside and how beautiful you looked and how focused you looked while mixing the egg. He couldn't help but kissed your head and that made you come back torealityy as you looked at him with a red face and wide grin as you peck his lips "You look very beautiful..i couldn't help but just did what I did there" He say's scratching the tip of his nose in embarrassment.

After mixing the egg, Chishiya started to fry them as your ooked the rice. After the egg's were fried and rolled, Chishiya put's them on a long white plate that was meant for sushi but..oh well! "This looks great! I think we could participate against Gordon Ramsay!-" "I bet we can with that annoying little face of yours" Chishiya teases and you pout "Hey!, I'm not annoying!.. Am I?" You say and looked up at him "No! No you're not, I was just kidding jeez your too cute to handle" He say's booking your nose. You two sat at the dining table and began to eat "Wow this is amazing!" You say with a cheerful voice "Didn't expect it would be this good actually" Chishiya adds as he continued eating.

After eating, you cleaned up both of your plates. While cleaning you felt hands around your waist squeezing them "You done?" Chishiya asked and you just giggled "Guess you really do want to cuddle huh?" You asked as he put's his head on your shoulder "Hmm" He say's with a tired tone. You finished washing the dishes, and now both of you are in the bedroom the you two share. Laying down on the bed on your side as Chishiya did the same, covering the sheet's over the both of you as he pulled you into his chest as he rest his chin on top of you "Sleep Love..i know your tired" He say's whispering to you, his voice was soft and relaxing plus the sound of the rain outside made you more relaxed "I know shiya.. I love you~" You say and hugged him "Love you too...dear~"

The End~

[ptergwen]

4 times peter loved you and 1 time he said it

warnings: angst, swearing, and flash being a dickwad (love him tho)

a/n: i wasn’t sure if i would ever finish this bc i started in march? and gave up but i really like the concept so i made myself get back into it and AHH i’m really happy with how it turned out! fingers crossed y’all like too ahaha. also this is unrelated but send me requests!

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to say you and peter were each other’s missing halves would be an absolute understatement. there wasn’t a secret you didn’t share, an inside joke you didn’t have, a text or call left unanswered, or a second you weren’t on the other’s mind.

it had been like that since your first day of freshman year. you took the seat next to peter in first period spanish, and the rest was history.

peter knew you better than you knew yourself. as cheesy as it sounded, it was true. he could guess what you were going to order at a restaurant before you picked up the menu. if you had a bad day, he’d come over to your place with tissues and hugs, without you having to ask. he knew all the little things.

you? you were a peter parker encyclopedia. you watched all his favorite movies so he could rant to you about them, and you’d actually understand what he was saying. whenever he felt overwhelmed by his chaotic life, you found a way to calm him.

you two were soulmates in best friend form.

best friends, nothing more.

♡ 1.

you had an arm around peter’s neck as you picked at some fruit on his lunch tray. his head was resting comfortably against your cheek, whole body leaning on you. impromtu cuddle sessions weren’t unusual for the two of you. they worked in both of your favors. peter was your own personal heater, and you were just really comfortable to nap on, in his opinion.

“are you gonna eat all my grapes? i was looking forward to those,” peter whined, taking one out of your hand. “are you gonna keep using me as a pillow?” you challenged. he responded by moving his head to your shoulder and chewing. “then, yes. i am gonna eat all your grapes.”

“you know what two people who share food are?” ned chimed in from across the cafeteria table. already knowing what he was implying, you sighed. “what, ned?” he cupped his hand over his mouth like he was about to spill the world’s biggest secret. “a couple.”

it wouldn’t be a regular day without ned trying to play matchmaker for you and peter. the idea made peter scoff. “leave us alone, man. that doesn’t even make sense.” “yes it does!” ned nudged mj for backup. she only raised her hands in defense. it was always a hard pass from her on getting involved in these types of things, unless she found a reason to.

“really? how?” you grabbed peter’s milk and took a sip just for the hell of it. he chuckled at that, forgetting he was supposed to be annoyed with you. a bit of milk dripped down your chin in the process. “oops,” you grimaced at yourself and licked it away.

something about the whole thing made peter’s heart clench. it was so... you were so... cute. cute was definitely the word he was looking for. wait, what? that was new. peter had always thought you were pretty and all, but he’d never found himself endeared like this over such a little thing you did. or had he? no. nope. it was ned’s stupid theory messing with him. that was all.

“y/n, dude, everyone knows it’s a thing. like, why else would someone give up their whole lunch? it’s flirting,” ned interrupted peter’s sudden thoughts about your cuteness. the smug look on his face made you want to throw the tray at him.

before you even joined their friend group, ned was on a mission to set the two of you up. peter described you to him and mj as “the actual sweetest girl ever. she makes me laugh a lot. you guys gotta meet her.” mj obviously ‘tsked’ at him, but a light bulb went off in ned’s head. peter was crushing. he just didn’t know it yet.

part of how you and peter got so close was that ned and mj used to back out of group plans. you’d end up hanging out alone most of the time. of course, it was ned’s idea. a successful idea, yes, but neither of you understood the obsession. apparently it was a guy in the chair’s duty to be a good wingman, and you should leave it to him. whatever that meant.

“if i remember correctly, you and your mom went halfsies on a piece of cake at your birthday party last year. what are you trying to tell us, leeds?” mj asked with a smirk. you and peter looked at each other and burst into laughter, ned’s mouth hanging open. the girl could really get someone when she wanted to.

“shut up, you guys! that’s different!” “so is y/n stealing my food and you calling it sharing,” peter made a point of saying more to you than ned. despite his words, he pushed the tray over to you. it was basically yours, anyway.

you thanked him with a pat on his cheek and popped more grapes into your mouth. in that moment, peter decided he’d get you all the grapes in the world if he could. jeez, he seriously needed to reel it in.

ned was only going to keep going now. “see that? peter’s such a sweet boyfriend. isn’t he, y/n?” he cooed and clasped his hands under his chin. you didn’t have the chance to change the topic before flash appeared at your table. he’d probably overheard your conversation. “penis parker is somebody’s boyfriend? good one.”

feeling peter tense up next to you, you put a hand on his shoulder to let him know you were there. you’d been in too many of these situations. the way flash talked to peter pissed you off in ways you didn’t think were possible. he was fine with everybody else, so why did he choose to pick on him? peter was the least deserving person of having to put up with it from anyone.

“just ignore him, okay? he’ll get bored and leave. works every time,” you reminded peter. too uneasy to say anything, he reached back and put his hand on top of yours. he tried to focus on how nice your touch felt instead of the fact that he was about to be humiliated by flash yet again.

“peter could totally get a girlfriend! he has, like, tons of girls after him,” ned attempted to back peter up, pleased with himself. groaning, peter put his head down on the table. he couldn’t bare to watch his friend destroy what was left of his social life. “you’re really pushing this now. stop talking,” mj warned in a whisper yell to ned. that didn’t stop flash from hearing her.

“she’s right. even parker agrees! look at him,” he snickered at peter’s embarrassed state. you’d had more than enough of him at that point. screw the silence. it wasn’t going to cut it for this one. while wingman ned was still making up stories, you tapped peter’s shoulder to find out how he was doing. his head remained down.

“you okay? want me to say something?” “i’m used to it, and no. i don’t wanna make you deal with him.” peter hated putting his issues on other people, but you couldn’t stand another second of listening to the things flash was saying. you cut into an argument between him and ned about peter’s body count. like his was any higher.

“fuck off, flash!” he stopped in the middle of his sentence. “huh?” “i said fuck off. anyone would be so lucky to date peter. you’re probably salty at him all the time because it’ll never be you,” you finally snapped. his tough guy persona faltered for a few seconds at your words, ned and mj taking the opportunity to high five you for telling him off.

peter was glad his head was still down because his cheeks were pinker than he’d like to admit. did you really mean that? would you be lucky to date him, too?

“what are you, president of the parker protection squad? or are you two a thing?” flash quickly recovered. there he went trying to get the last word in. the embarrassment for peter if you denied it was exactly what he wanted, but you weren’t letting him have it.

“ask me again some other time.” you plastered on a shit-eating grin and waved goodbye. unsatisfied with your answer, flash huffed his way back to his own table. after he was gone, peter looked up at you with something you’d never seen before twinkling in his eyes.

“thank you, y/n. you really didn’t have to say all of that.” “oh, no. don’t thank me. i‘d do it for you anytime. i am president of the parker protection squad, after all.” your fake smile turned into a genuine one for him. peter couldn’t help but mirror it.

his was heart doing that thing again. he guessed it was because he loved you so much, but this love felt different somehow. it wasn’t the friend kind of love he’d had for you all those years.

it was the kind of love he saw in the rom coms you made him watch when you got to pick for movie night. cupid’s love was the official name for it. when he put two and two together, the realization smacked him straight in the face. ned was right.

peter was starting to fall in love with you, and there was no way he could stop.

♡ 2.

peter was a workaholic. patrolaholic to be exact, especially when he had a reason. he’d sometimes find himself in a cycle of getting home late and going out early for days on end. he’d gotten used to the sleep deprivation. his grumbling stomach from missing meals wasn’t too big of a deal either. not when he had a city to save.

it was also a good distraction from everything else going on in his life. man, did he need a distraction. after peter came to terms with the fact that he loved loved his best friend, he narrowed it down to two options; telling you about his feelings or taking them to his grave. since the city was so busy, he was thankful he could throw himself into patrolling and not decide just yet.

may would usually only allow peter to patrol on weekends. school existed, and he had to take breaks. peter really wanted to help out more, so he proposed an idea that could potentially let him up it to the full seven days. he had to make it home in one piece every night for a trial week. that would prove to may he could handle it.

ignoring his black eye on tuesday and limp on thursday, it worked out. peter was positive he could finish off the week just fine. may didn’t have the same optimism. she decided that so much as a scratch on friday and it was strike three. friday came, and peter had impressively managed to end the day, like he thought, just fine.

he did one last swing around the neighborhood he was in, then started heading back to queens to gloat to may. on his way, he remembered he had to text you goodnight. he was bound by a pinky swear to you that he would do it every time he finished patrolling.

peter being spider-man was something you figured out only a few months after he got his powers. he technically exposed himself, and you pieced everything together. it all happened when spider-man offered to walk you home from school one day.

the way he rubbed the back of his neck while asking was a nervous habit that was oddly familiar, and urged you to say yes. you also thought it was strange how even though he didn’t ask for your address, he somehow knew where he was taking you. then again, he was spider-man. it was his job to know new york city and the people living in it.

you came to the conclusion you were making things up until he was about to leave. he walked you to the door of your apartment building and said, “stay safe, squirt.” nobody called you that besides peter. he came up with it because he had recently grown a few inches taller and could finally give you hell for being the short one.

needless to say, peter didn’t take off like he was intending to. he realized his slip up as soon as the nickname came out of his mouth. you brought him upstairs and had a long afternoon of questioning, explanations, and making promises.

peter typed out a message telling you he was fine and to go to sleep. as he was about to hit send, he swung too low and smacked his head right into a traffic light. that was what he got for texting while swinging. he could imagine mj giving him one of her famous safety lectures already, but that wasn’t first on his list of worries. he had a throbbing head and may’s third strike to deal with.

crap, may couldn’t know about this. she’d ban him from patrolling probably forever. going home was out of the question, but peter was in desperate need of an ice pack. there was already a bump forming from where the light hit him. his next choice would be to go to happy, only he couldn’t do that because he‘d tell may.

peter’s hands worked faster than his brain, and he started swinging over to your apartment. the overthinking began soon after. nobody wants to deal with a surprise appearance from their possibly concussed friend at 2 a.m. besides, what would he say? he’d barely seen you all week. it wasn’t fair to you, but it was too late to turn back.

peter landed on the sidewalk with an “oof” and crawled up the wall of your building. when he reached your window, he knocked in the same rhythm that he always did. no answer. he knocked louder. no answer again.

seeing as he had no other option, peter had to let himself in. he pushed on your window to see if it was unlocked. thank god it slid up then, but he made a mental note to remind you about keeping it locked another time. he climbed through the window with as little noise as possible so your family wouldn’t hear.

after navigating in the dark, peter pulled off his mask by the side of your bed. he instantly melted at the sight of you. your face was squished into your pillow, hair sprawled everywhere. you’d must have fallen asleep waiting for his text because you were holding your phone. peter was sure he’d never seen something so adorable.

he let himself stand there and watch the peaceful rise and fall of your chest. the bump on his head was no longer a priority. peter was utterly and completely entranced with you. god, why was he acting like this? oh, right. he was secretly in love with you.

before peter could help himself, he brushed some hair that had fallen into your eyes away with his fingers. you squirmed in your sleep, peter pulling his hand back. he was such an idiot sometimes. your eyes fluttered open and landed on him.

“peter? ‘s that you?” you squinted to see in the darkness of your room. he moved closer. your legs dangled over the bed as you slowly sat up. “yeah, it’s me. sorry to wake you.” he went to scratch his head out of nerves, but stopped when he remembered it really freaking hurt right there.

“‘s okay. i was hoping you’d come over soon. missed you all week.” you frowned at the red and blue clad boy in front of you. except for school, you hadn’t seen peter the past few days. “lots of crime to fight lately?” “missed you more, and yeah. been kicking lots of asses.” the awkwardness peter was imaging faded away when he plopped down next to you on your bed.

“how’s your eye doing? and the limp?” you turned his head towards you by his chin. he exhaled in relief. “getting better, i think. now that we’re talking about injuries...” the sleepiness was knocked out of you. you all but leapt to your feet and turned on the lamp by your bed. peter had a feeling you’d slightly freak.

“we’ve been making small talk and you’re hurt? what happened, peter?” “i-i sort of, um, i was texting you and swung into a traffic light.” “oh my god, where?” he pointed at his forehead with a weak smile. surely enough, there was a big bump. you gasped. “please don’t be mad at me.” “i’m not mad at you. just feel bad it was kinda my fault. do you think you have a concussion?”

you weren’t sure what to do beyond the mostly useless first aid videos they played in gym class. being an avenger, peter had had his share of experience with wounds. whenever he came to you hurt, he talked you through how to help him. the most you’d ever dealt with was a few particularly deep cuts. this was not the same.

“i‘m not sure. you could try that finger thing?” he suggested. you crouched down in front of him. “good idea. let’s do that.” as you waved your index finger back and forth and peter’s eyes followed it seemingly well, his mind was elsewhere. he was thinking about crawling into bed with you and sleeping in your arms.

“well, you passed or whatever they say. i’m pretty sure you don’t have a concussion. you’ll heal fast because of... you know.” you stood up and mimicked the way he shoots his webs. peter chuckled quietly. your thumb ran lightly over his bump, making him wince. “how bad does it feel?” “on a scale from one to ten it’s, like, a five and a half.”

although not what you wanted to hear, it was manageable. you hoped so, at least. “i’m gonna go get some stuff. change into comfortable clothes.” “yes, doctor y/n.” peter saluted you. you were happy to see he still felt up to joking around. biting your lip to hold back a smile, you made your way to the kitchen.

peter searched through the spare clothes he’d left here over the years. there were so many, you had to give him a drawer. he changed into pajama pants and a t-shirt, then sat back down criss cross on your bed.

you came in shortly after with a water bottle, two advil, and an ice pack wrapped in a towel. “i was kidding about the whole doctor thing, you know.” “too bad.” you handed him the advil and water. “take these. they’ll help until your magic healing powers kick in.” peter took the pills while you pressed the ice pack to his bump. he took it from you when he was finished.

“is that any better?” “much better. i’m all good. i should probably go soon.” he mumbled, not meaning it but also not wanting to overstay his welcome. you’d already done so much for him. you stopped him from getting up by putting a hand on his chest.

“what? you already changed, and i’m not sending you home to get killed by may. just stay.” “are you sure? i don’t wanna bother you anymore. it was annoying for me to come here so late in the first place.”

a frown set on your face. “peter, don’t you remember my promise?” there was a beat of silence while he thought about it. “that you’d help out with spidey stuff?” “however and whenever i can. i don’t know what made you think differently just now, but nothing’s gonna change that. doesn’t matter if it’s the middle of the night or early in the morning. i’m always here.”

only you could reassure him just like that. peter was really lucky to have you. really, really lucky.

“right. you’re right. sorry for... whatever that was.” “you apologize too much.” you poked his chest to punctuate your statement and switched the light off. “sorry for that, too,” he teased, wanting a reaction from you. “peter benjamin parker, just get in the bed.” “yes, ma’am.” that was enough before you changed your mind and threw him out.

you rolled to lay on the other side of peter. still pressing the ice pack to his head, he laid down next to you. it didn’t take long for both of you to be settled under the covers. “try not to bang into the wall or something,” you joked and pulled your comforter up to your chin.

peter puffed some air out of his cheeks, tugging more of it back. “you can’t be mean and hog the blanket.” “it’s my bed, so i actually can. i’ll hog everything.”

to prove your point, you moved over to peter until there was no room between you. both of you knew it was an excuse to cuddle. he wasn’t mad about it at all. peter opened an arm for you. you curled into his side, letting him hold you close. his whole body relaxed as you hugged him against you. “goodnight, spidey.” “night, squirt.”

♡ 3.

“what does that cloud look like to you?” you pointed up at the sky. peter’s eyes darted around as he tried to find exactly which one you were talking about. there were a lot of them, in his defense. you made a big circle with your finger around the cloud in question.

“the really curvy one. right there.” “kinda looks like a tiger. can we keep walking now?” peter tugged your arm linked in his in an attempt to move you from the spot you’d randomly stopped in. he made a whiny noise when you didn’t budge.

“i think it looks more like a horse, and no. why are you in such a rush?” furrowing your brows at him, you tightened your grip on his arm. “because some people don’t like cloud watching, grandma.” “i only asked you about one! i’m just... trying to get the most out of today.”

with college around the corner, you and peter both had a lot to do and a little bit of time to get it done. your only hangouts had become some shared extracurriculars and weekly study group with your other friends. trying to binge watch your shows together on facetime hadn’t been easy, for one thing. you fumbled to keep your phone up more than you payed attention.

on a more serious note, being apart sucked majorly. it was going to be this times a million when you would inevitably have to split up in a few months. thinking about it for too long usually made you cry.

peter was struggling in other ways. his more than a friend feelings for you were only getting stronger. having all that love and not being able to give it to you was hurting like hell, and he had to just pack everything up and act normal during the rare moments you were together. you were both going through it.

this was the first sunday in what felt like forever that you and peter were both free. you decided that the nice weather called for a meetup at central park. so, there you were, arm in arm on your afternoon stroll.

“don’t say it like that, y/n. you’re making me sad.” peter let out a breath as you rested your head on his shoulder. “that was the point.” you started walking again, peter following next to you. he kicked at pebbles while you smiled up at him. that made him smile at his feet. you were getting really good at making him flustered.

“so, did you finish that pre calc packet?” peter asked to distract himself. you lifted your head off his shoulder with a groan. “peter, we’re not talking about school for once. let’s talk about literally anything else.” “like what?” you were about to make a suggestion, but something caught your attention.

you raced over to a swingset, dragging peter along with you before he could realize where you were taking him. you stopped in front of it and threw your hands up to present it to him. he let out a breathy laugh. “when was the last time you went on one of these?” you asked, taking peter’s arm again. peter shook his head. “way too long ago.”

with a smile, you walked him over and took a seat on one of the swings. peter sat on the one next to you. you spun around in a circle to see how much you could twist the chains, peter laughing. “y/n, what are you doing?” “having fun. you should try it sometime.” he backed up to get himself started and grabbed his own chains. “i do have fun. it’s just not in the ways you think.”

you untwisted yourself to watch peter. “so, how?” “well,” he started going higher, “i like learning about stuff, even the things we have to in school.” “everybody knows that. that’s the first thing i thought of.” you did know everything possible about him.

everything except his new feelings for you, but this wasn’t the time for him to blurt that out. he was still figuring out when or if he should.

“guess i’m not gonna say i like movies, either.” “singing?” you were swinging next to him, turning it into an unspoken competiton for who could get the highest. peter slowed down a bit since he’d had a head start. “i suck. the only person who’s allowed to hear me is you.”

“it’s possible to suck at something and still enjoy it.” the breeze blew your hair around, peter seeing it from the corner of his eye. he’d always loved how carefree you were around him. it rubbed off.

“remind me to force you to do karaoke one day.” “you’re so annoying.” that motivated you to kick off harder on the ground. peter huffed and tried to catch up to you. “don’t be mean to your only source of fun.” if that wasn’t true, he would’ve came up with a comeback.

the only time peter remembered to relax was when he was with you. it was usually because you reminded him. he skidded to a stop on the swing and looked up at you.

“why’d you let me win? was that too mean?” you looked over your shoulder. “nah, i just got tired.” “oh. we can do something else now. catch me?” “sure,” peter chuckled and got off the swing. he stood in front of you on the grass and waited for you to get lower. you clenched your teeth into a nervous smile.

“ready?” “ready.” swinging towards him, you jumped off and expected to land in his arms. you ended up completely on top of him instead.

the wind was knocked out of both of you, but peter had it worse because he broke your fall. your hands were on his shoulders and one of his was around your lower back. neither of you realized the position you were in. you were too busy trying to breathe again.

“god, that hurt.” “my bad,” peter mumbled. in any other circumstance, he wouldn’t be complaining about this. “i should’ve warned you or something,” you dismissed him.

you were still hovering over peter, your lips dangerously close to his. he could’ve sworn they almost touched. that was when you got off of him. he only forced out a laugh. nothing ever went his way. you offered him a hand, oblivious to his inner conflict. peter took it and pulled himself up, falling into step next to you as you headed to another path.

that could’ve been a chance to make some sort of move, and he blew it.

♡ 4.

it hadn’t been easy for peter to move on from that day. his mind kept replaying the split second you almost kissed on an endless loop, and all he could do was come up with what he should’ve done in the moment.

things were getting to a point where he had no clue how to act around you. being your friend was hard, but becoming your boyfriend would be that much harder. his stupid feelings put him in an awkward place, and he was afraid you were starting to realize. he couldn’t lose you altogether.

you asked peter to meet you for coffee after school. it was this small place in between your apartments you’d both been to once before. they had really good cookies and an overall cozy feeling you liked. peter wasn’t sure what this was all about.

were you going to confront him? did ned say something? maybe it was a mistake to confide in his most gossipy friend about how he felt.

with a headache from stress and a heavy backpack hanging off his shoulders, peter walked into the café. he spotted you at a table near the window. you’d already taken the liberty of ordering, two drinks and a chocolate chip cookie waiting there. you looked up from your phone when peter pulled a chair out.

“hi.” you gave him a small smile and put your phone down. “i already got everything.” peter shrugged off his backpack with a grin. he sat down facing you. “thanks. sorry i’m kinda late. i had to stop at my locker.” you usually met him there. come to think of it, why hadn’t you today? you pushed peter’s drink over to him. “you’re fine. i came here early to get us a table, anyway.” phew.

peter bent the straw to his iced macchiato and took a sip. it made him feel grown up, casually drinking coffee with you over a boring conversation. adult life must’ve sucked. “so, how was the rest of your day?” he asked to fill the silence. you only had two classes without him after lunch, so that was a dumb question. he’d never had so much trouble talking to you.

“eh. betty fell asleep on me during this cold war documentary we had to watch.” “didn’t she say american history is her favorite?” you broke off a piece of the cookie with a laugh. “not after that. what about your day?” the light from the window was shining directly on you, blocking out everything else from peter’s view. he wanted to tell you how beautiful you were so bad, but that would be creepy.

you took a bite of your cookie and raised an eyebrow. he was staring. “uh, nothing interesting. i’m gonna patrol a little bit later.” peter sipped his drink again. you clicked your tongue and let out a breath. “that’s all you do these days.” he knew you were catching on to how off he’d been. what was he supposed to say? it would’ve helped if he’d prepared a few excuses.

“just trying to help out while i’m still here.” that was a half truth. “yeah, but you should still take some time for yourself.” you ripped open your straw wrapper and blew it at peter. he caught it just before it hit his face. rolling your eyes, you put the straw into your drink. “i hate your reflexes sometimes.” he shrugged one of his shoulders casually. “jealousy is a disease.”

neither of you said anything for a few minutes. you stared out the window while peter finished the rest of the cookie. he could tell something was on your mind. whenever you were deep in your thoughts, you sort of zoned out like this.

he was too nervous to ask you what was wrong because of the conversation you just had. it sounded like you had already considered he was being distant before today. his feelings aside, he needed to reassure you. that was more important.

“y/n?” you turned your head to look at him. “yeah?” peter’s gaze shifted from you to his thumbs twiddling in his lap. “i know we’ve both been really... busy lately, but i’m still here. don’t forget that.” a hint of a smile played on your lips. you would’ve hugged him if you could reach. “thank you, peter. i kinda needed to hear that.” he nudged your leg under the table. “of course. hey, you wanna come with me tonight?”

a couple of hours later, you were in peter’s arms on a rooftop that was much higher up than it looked. he insisted on taking you for a swing so you could get the full experience. he’d been trying to get you to do this for the longest time, so he wondered what made you agree today. you wanted to find out what was so enjoyable about it.

“i trust you, but you’re not gonna drop me, right?” your legs were around his waist, and he had one hand supporting you by your back. that wasn’t terrifying at all. you grabbed peter’s shoulders, the idea of it making you nervous. he wrapped his arm tighter around you.

“oh my god, no. i can always web you back up.” “peter! that’s not funny.” even behind the mask, you could tell he was smirking. “you’re always safe with me, squirt. don’t worry.” you brought your arms up to loop around his neck.

“i feel better now.” “good. i’m gonna jump when we get to the edge, okay?“ your whole body stiffened up. peter could sense it. as excited as he was to share this with you, he didn’t want to make you feel pressured. “or we don’t have to do it.” his voice was quiet. you tried to relax in his hold. “i’m just gonna close my eyes. i think that’ll help.” “we’re about to find out.”

peter started walking towards the edge of the building with you holding on even tighter to him, your eyes squeezed shut. he kept finding himself in situations where he was close to you in the ways he’d been wishing for, but never for the same reasons. it was bittersweet.

he bit down on his lip and aimed his free hand at a building. you squealed when he leaned back. “i’m jumping now,” he prepared you, and before you could respond, you were in the air. you hid your face in peter’s chest the second you felt yourself pretty much flying.

“what the fuck, you like this?” you had to yell so he could hear you. peter shot another web to keep swinging. “it’s really not that bad! try looking up!” he shouted back, clearly amused.

grip tightening around his neck, you slowly pulled your face away from him. he kept you close as he swung. you somehow convinced yourself you weren’t going to die by looking at something besides peter. your eyes landed on the sky behind his head.

the sun was almost completely set, deep pink and orange merging together against the glowing lights of the city. you were finally understanding why he liked this so much. it was beautiful.

peter peeked at you for a second to check on you. he swore his heart was going to explode out of his chest. the look of adoration on your face, it was even better than the view. it was the view. the little moments where peter got to see you this way made him realize how in love with you he really was.

“this is... wow. i get it now,” you laughed in disbelief, watching as the city whirled past you. peter smiled so big it hurt. “pretty awesome, huh?” one of your hands slid back down to his shoulder. “take me with you more often.”

♡ 5.

peter licked his lips out of habit as he held the door open for may, who was following behind him with a look of pride. he was about to graduate high school. the ceremony was being held in a really nice stadium-like place. trying to find it added minutes on to the parker tradition of being late to everything important.

peter wasn’t as concerned with his tardiness as he was with finding you.

while he tossed and turned in bed the night before, he went over his whole school year in his head. that meant little things and big things. he was starting to drift off until he remembered a conversation with ned a few weeks back. they decided on a deadline for peter to tell you about his feelings, and it was before graduation.

they chose it because if peter got rejected, he’d be over it by the time college started. that was the goal.

it wasn’t that peter had changed his mind. it was that he completely forgot. he didn’t have a solid plan for what he should do. these things needed to be decided way in advance. he ended up pulling something together last minute because it was you. plus, this extra pressure gave him the push to go through with it. somewhere between steps seven and eight, he passed out.

may rushed him to get ready because he’d slept past his alarm. the whole morning was a mess, and he had at most fifteen minutes to confess his love to you by the time he got there.

“you should go make sure you’re marked here. i’ll see you after. love you.” may pressed a kiss to his cheek and half-jogged to the auditorium for a seat. he squeezed her arm and headed off to check in. your whole grade was already lined up along the walls for what looked like miles. the deal was to tell you before graduation. he still had about ten minutes.

peter walked past hundreds of students with his heartbeat thumping in his ears. everyone was in alphabetical order, so it didn’t take too long to find you. relief washed over you when you saw peter. you were worried he wouldn’t show up at all. his cap was in his hand, hair getting tangled from running his fingers through it. he looked at you with pleading eyes.

“finally, i’ve been trying to call you all morning. where were you?” your tone was dripping with concern. “i overslept. there’s something i gotta tell you, y/n.” he gulped. you smiled in a way that was kind of pitying. “we’re about to start going inside. i- you have to wait, pete. go get lined up.”

this wasn’t how it was going to end. not again.

he looked around to see who was watching, then he grabbed your wrist. “peter, what are you-“ “just come with me really quick.” despite yourself, you let him lead you down the hallway. you dodged a couple of teachers having a conversation and went into a bathroom that was vacant by some chance. he let go of you after the door shut. you stood behind it while he walked over to a sink.

it was making you anxious to not be out there. you could be late. peter was the same way when it came to school, so you knew this had to be pretty serious. you gave up the battle with yourself and made your way over to him. he was looking at himself in the mirror, trying to get a stray curl back in place.

“let me help.” you stood next to him. he turned to face you, that same look of urgency still in his eyes. you used two fingers to brush through his hair. there was so much gel that it was wet enough to mess with. you smiled a bit and took your hand out of his hair. his hand was gripping the sink.

“you look good, pete. you smell good, too.” “so do you.” his voice was lower than usual. you flattened out the material of your blue gown. “thanks. so, talk to me. what’s up?”

the question was so simple, but way too many answers were running through peter’s brain. he wasn’t even sure he’d have enough time to explain everything now. this was why he needed a written out and carefully crafted plan.

but, like he said to himself last night, this was you. his best friend in the entire world and any other that might exist. the person who’s been there for his most embarrassing moments, and who’s been responsible for some of his best ones. if he couldn’t finally say the three words he’d said to you so many times before, what was the point?

his fingers drummed a steady rhythm while he mustered up the last remaining bit of courage in him. you watched him expectantly, waiting for him to say something. “just, um...” he was stalling. he pulled his hand off the sink. “i... love you.” peter only glanced at you for a second, too afraid to see your reaction. “i love you, too. is everything okay?” his heart sank. you thought he meant it in the friend way.

that was what he got for being so terrible with words.

“no, y/n. not like that.” he blurted. you were lost. peter pressed his back against the wall and sat down. confused and equally worried, you sat next to him on the floor. “then what do you mean? you’re scaring me.” he checked the watch may made him wear to see how much time was left before graduation. four minutes. he really should’ve woken up on time.

“we have to get back in line soon. i don’t wanna miss-“ “i love you, y/n. i’m in love with you.” a weight that had been on peter’s chest for months was lifted just by saying it. you squinted your eyes at him, but said nothing.

“i’ve been trying to tell you for a while, and it’s okay if you don’t feel the same. i just had to say it.” “fuck, are you serious?” you sounded what peter could only describe as disappointed. yeah, it was unrequited. here came a summer of crying. “i was gonna tell you first.”

peter’s breath hitched in his throat, and he swore you could hear it. he was so sleep deprived that it felt like he was hallucinating. you shook your head as heat came to your cheeks.

“how long have you...” peter trailed off, an eye crinkling smile interrupting him. “that day we went for coffee. something clicked, so i thought for a while and figured it out. i think i’ve loved you for a really long time.”

you inched closer to peter, just barely resting your head on his shoulder. for once, you felt like the shy one. he put his hand on top of yours. his thumb traced over each of your fingers. “i’d ask you out, but you know. we don’t really have time.”

“peter, it won’t take that long.” you giggled. he squeezed your hand in his. “hm. y/n, would you wanna go out with me after this?” you thought about teasing him for it, but he was right. you had to go. that was the friend still in you. “i’d love to go out with you, peter.”

with that, you both jumped to your feet and ran out of the bathroom. you were still holding hands, and a few classmates made faces when you rushed past them to get to your spots. you exchanged one last smile with peter before lining up.

the person in front of you said everybody was looking for you two. honestly, you didn’t care all that much. you were too excited for your date later. peter already knew he’d be checking his watch throughout the whole ceremony.

it was a best friend and soulmate thing.

[beauvibaby]

table for two – a.beauvillier

a/n: a little fic I threw together that I really love 🥺 it’s not proofread tho

“A forty minute wait?” You tried to hide your disappointment, it had been a terrible day at work, your feet were aching and your stomach was on the verge of growling. “Yes, I’m-“ the hostess stopped herself, she glanced over to the only other single party here, “give me just a moment.” She gave you a smile before rushing off. You sighed dramatically, pulling your phone out. The only reason you were so stuck on eating here is because you had a gift card and didn’t want to cook tonight. You glanced up as the hostess approached you, “we have a table for two available, if you don’t mind sitting with this gentleman.” She explained, motioning to the guy sitting in the corner, he had an optimistic smile on his face. He clearly had a much better day than you, as you were about to turn down the offer, your stomach clenched, reminding you how long it had been since you ate.

“Yes. I’ll sit with him.”

You stayed silent, following them to the table, the guy shot you a soft smile as he sat across from you, he seemed like a nice guy, his eyes showed his genuineness. The bright blue only making them more vibrant, you mirrored his smile, crossing your legs under the table. “So, how are we playing this? Awkward silence while we listen to each other eat, or are you going to tell me your name?” He spoke up as you hid behind your menu, you raised an eyebrow at his forwardness, although you could hear a slight nerve in his tone. “You first.” You laughed softly, lowering the menu to reveal your whole face. “Anthony.” He grinned, the name fit him, his smile wide and bright as he looked over at you, not having even picked up his menu yet. “Y/N.” You spoke, glancing between him and the menu, he chuckled at your obvious desire to eat, not that he could blame you, he’d been waiting for a while before you showed up, and the hostess undoubtedly was trying to play matchmaker, not that he was complaining. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.” He murmured, opening up his menu, he glanced over at you, seeing your eyes darting between two items, “never been here before?” He asked, already settling on his meal. You shook your head, chewing your bottom lip as you weighed your options, chicken or pasta.

“Are we ready to order?” The waiter asked, setting down the drinks you’d ordered when you sat down. Anthony nodded, going first to give you another second to decide. He ordered the exact chicken dish you’d been debating on, “is it good?” You asked him, closing your menu, he nodded instantly. “I’ll have the same, please.” You handed over your menu, watching the guy whisk away. “So, Y/N.” Anthony started, resting his elbows on the table, “are you a nurse?” He asked with a tilt of his head, motioning to the scrubs you were wearing. “Medical assistant.” You answered, looking over at his outfit, “I have no clues, this isn’t fair.” You countered, stifling back a laugh when he looked down at his pants and shirt, he hummed, giving you a smile. “You watch sports?” He asked, you thought he was derailing the conversation, “not really.” You answered truthfully, he nodded in understanding, “I play hockey.” He told you, and you thought he was just being a show off. “Athletic, fun, still doesn’t tell me what you do for a living.” You countered easily, whether it be the way he was so easy to speak to, or the way you were sure to be dying of hunger, the words toppled out before you could stop them.

You felt your face flood with warmth as he tilted his head back in laughter, “hockey.” He spoke, raising an eyebrow, “I play hockey for a living.” He watched your face go from confused to shock, “oh.” You whispered sheepishly, “for who?” You asked, mirroring his earlier actions and resting your elbows on the table. “New York Islanders.” He spoke with ease, glancing over the restaurant, suddenly feeling like he came off as arrogant. “Oh thank god, my family would disown me for talking to a Rangers player.” You quipped, you might not have been much into sports, but growing up in New York, you knew a fair bit about the local teams. Plus your cousins were avid fans. So maybe you knew a bit more than average.

“Thought you weren’t into sports?” He answered instantly, becoming engrossed in the conversation with you. He listened intently to you as you began to ramble about the hockey fans in your family, you hadn’t realized how long you’d been talking until the food showed up. You fell silent abruptly, embarrassed for how much you’d spoken. Anthony gave you a reassuring smile as he began cutting into his chicken. You did the same, brushing your sheepishness aside. Your eyes shut in relief as you ate your first bite, “told you it was good.” He spoke up as he swallowed his food. You giggled softly, looking up at him through your lashes, he smirked to himself as you hid behind some of your loose hairs. He found himself wanting to do this again with you, sit, talk, eat. A classic date if he’d ever seen one, but it wasn’t, you were just a complete stranger that he’d probably never see again.

Your meal had come and gone, and you both settled your checks, about to part ways out in the parking lot, “you know, I might just have to take my cousin up on that extra ticket to the game in a couple weeks.” You blurted out, cursing yourself mentally, he faltered in his steps, “I’ll be looking for you.” He called as he walked to his car, leaving you there to process his words with a flutter in your chest.

Of course, the first thing you did when you got home was look him up on Instagram, boldly following him and wondering about the what if’s.

***

You rushed out the door the next morning, knowing you’d never hear the end of it from your cousin, Ava, if you were late. It was a tradition for you, her and her twin brother to get together once a month for breakfast, something your dad had instilled in you all, and something you made sure to keep up after he passed.

You didn’t even check your phone.

“You’re late!” Aidan shouted, “shut up! I tried my best.” You groaned, tossing your purse down on the counter, your phone half hanging out of it as you went to wash your hands. As you turned the water on you heard Ava scream at the top of her lungs, you went running out as Aidan shrieked in surprise by his sister's actions. “What? Are you ok?” You gasped nearly slipping in your socks, “Y/N.” She gaped at you, she had your phone in her hands, “why did Anthony Beauvillier request to follow you?!” She shouted, Aidan snatched the phone, “oh my god.” He mumbled, unlocking the device, seeing that it really was his account. “He what?” You mumbled, yanking your phone out of his grasp, quickly accepting his request, before facing the millions of questions they had.

It felt like an eternity until they stopped asking you things, “well obviously you’re going to the game with us, and you’re borrowing my Beauvillier jersey.” Ava smirked, you began shaking your head furiously, “no, no, no.” You whined, crossing your arms as they gave you glares. “Yes, yes, yes.” They mocked you, “by the sounds of it, he was clearly flirting with you, how could you pass up on him?” Ava dramatically swooned, “besides, maybe you’ll fall in love and you can get me in with Mat.” She giggled girlishly, “puck bunny.” Aidan muttered jokingly, she turned to him quickly, “I’m not afraid to hit you with my stick again.” He didn’t say anything after that as he shifted away from her.

“I’ll go to the game, but you better not embarrass me.” You mumbled in defeat, only wondering what you just got yourself into.

***

“Stalking her now beau?” Mat joked with his friend, looking over his shoulder as he scrolled through your Instagram, “shut up.” Tito sighed, faltering as he stumbled across one of your beach pictures. “Oh, damn.” Mat whistled teasingly, he shut himself up when his friend glared at him.

***

“Ava.” You snapped, lightly whacking her hands away, “I’m fixing your hair.” She complained, pouting at you, sneakily grabbing your pony tail and tightening it before you could react, “ow!” You snapped nearly falling on the escalator, Aidan chuckled as you scolded her. “It’s not funny.” You both snapped at the same time as you stepped off the escalator, following them to their seats, you all the clueless to how close to the glass you were really going to be. “Woah.” You gasped, Ava grabbing your hand and pulling you a couple rows down to look up close at the glass, Aidan settled into the seats, snapping a few pictures of the two of you looking out in amazement. “There’s Barzal, oh and pageau, you wanna keep your eyes on them. They’re really good right now.” Ava explained, you nodded listening as your eyes darted around, looking for number eighteen. “Have you spoken to him since that night?” Ava asked as they began skating around the ice, pucks flying everywhere. You stayed silent as you suppressed a smile, easily spotting Anthony as he passed a puck back and forth with Mat. “You have!” Ava gasped, shaking your shoulder violently, “so what if I have?” You mumbled, biting your lip when she looked over at you. “You are something else.” She giggled, shrieking softly when Anthony skated up to the glass, a puck in his hand. He motioned for you to catch it, which you did with ease. “Good luck!” You shouted, hugging the puck close to your chest as he grinned, he gave you a quick wave before going back to skating around.

“That was flirting.” Aidan declared as you both settled into your seats beside him, “yeah, it was.” You surprised them by not arguing, you felt your face warm up as they looked over at you in shock.

The game had gone on without a hitch, the islanders winning 4-1. So you did what you’d promised Anthony, Tito as he requested you call him, you sent him your number.

“Good game, you earned this.”

You felt giddy as you sent him your number, knowing by the time he saw it you would probably be asleep for the night, but the excitement of if he was going to use it, that kept you on your toes.

***

“What can I say, you made me work for it”

“Goodnight, Y/N”

Your heart fluttered more than it should have when you woke up to his messages, bright and early, much earlier than he would be up the day after a game.

“Morning, Tito!”

You sent it, eyes widening as three bubbles popped up instantly.

“Have a good day at work”

You read it over and then saw him typing once again.

“Are you free Friday?”

Your heart nearly lept out of your chest.

“See you Friday”

A confident response that unknowing to you made him nervous, he was never nervous when it came to dates, but you were already so different to him.

You went about your day as normally, occasionally sneaking a moment to text Tito back as he sent you random things throughout the day, including the planning of your date for Friday. He insisted on picking you up, and you agreed, appreciating the chivalry he was showing that not many guys still had.

You were giddy, and he was thrilled, already mentally preparing himself, although he knew once he was around you, it would be easy. It always was.

***

The knock on your door made you inhale sharply, glancing down at your outfit once more, the skinny jeans hugging your curves just right, and the delicate blouse showing just enough skin to be flirty but modest, and it went along with the casual dress code he had established. You quickly zipped up the sides of your wedges, you flipped your loosely curled hair behind your shoulders as you unlocked the door. “Hey, Tito.” You breathed out, smiling at him, the both of you quickly taking in the sight of each other, “hi, you look great.” He complimented, his nerves instantly melting away as you let out a sheepish giggle, “thanks.” Your voice was soft and he soaked up every bit of it, seeing the shy smile adorning your face. “You clean up nice.” You responded, grabbing your purse as he chuckled, looking down at his dark jeans and short sleeve printed button shirt, you took notice of the chain he had underneath it. You shot him a smile as you turned back to him fully, “ready?” You asked, adjusting the purse on your shoulder.

“Ready.”

You burst into laughter as he pulled into the parking lot, the same restaurant you met at, “you’re serious?” You asked through a smile, he nodded, “I mean unless you don’t like it–“ you cut him off as he was about to ramble. You grabbed his hand that was resting on the center console, “no, I love it. It’s really cute honestly.” You assured him, not missing the way he instantly relaxed when you touched him. “Oh, good.” He breathed out, “let’s go inside.”

The hostess did a double take as she saw you two walk in hand in hand. It was the same one from the first night you met, “hello.” She grinned, grabbing two menus, “sitting together, again?” She asked, Anthony nodded brightly. “Yeah.” He answered, letting you walk in front of him as you followed her to a table. “Thanks.” You smiled at her, sitting in your seat, Anthony thanked her as well as he followed behind you. “So, is the chicken any good?” You asked, he broke into laughter, his head tipping back as he gave you an incredulous look. “I think it’s really good.” He answered, snickering as he picked up his menu, you smiled at his reaction, feeling giddy as you knew you were the reason he was having such a good time. “Ok but seriously, what else is good here?” You asked, shifting to an overly serious tone as you scanned over the menu, he smiled at the concentration on your face.

“It’s all good here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Taglist: @boqvistsbabe @tortito @2manytabsopen @heybarzy @barzysreputation @yzas-stuff @iwantahockeyhimbo @matbarzyy

[strawberry-jammers]

One Year

a dreamsmp x reader where a young (y/n) wants to rebuild an old old kingdom before they have to be crowned to rule over their parents kingdom. with the help of their friends and a couple of servants, they hope to rebuild it all with out their parent knowing about it.

part 1 part 2  part 3 part 4

part 3/?

masterlist

unedited, so their will be parts that are off

actual story ooooo

word count: 4247

---------------------

Nikki and (y/n) have been riding their horse for over an hour. It started to get a bit painful so they decided to take a break in a small clearing in the woods. 

They set up a small picnic filled with baked goods, bread and sandwiches. They had plenty of water and hooked up thunder in a tree not far from them. 

"How are you not tired? We all wake up at ungodly hours in the castle." (Y/n) asked, taking a bite of their sandwich. Nikki giggled. "I've had to stay up for days to get orders done for some clients. What about you?" (Y/n) sighed. "Slept for awhile before we left. I can't stay up like you can." They laughed, setting their sandwich down. "Thats fair, will you be able to stay awake before we get there?" Niki asks, drinking some water. 

"Mm Idk, might sleep on you while we travel." They both laugh a bit. "If you do, I'm kicking you off." (Y/n) dramatically gasps. "You wouldn't!" They jokingly say, making Nikki giggle slightly. "Oh i would! Watch your back (n/n)." (Y/n) smiled.

"Aww we are friends!" The two of them continue to joke like this, occasionally eating and such. 

The sun continued to rise as they talked. Birds chirped and flew above them, some even trying to eat some of their food. The breeze was nice and soft, the air warmer than it was when they first left. Flowers flicked softly as the wind pushed them, along with the grass around them. It was a peaceful morning, two newly made friends chatting and enjoying eachothers company.

The two of them soon finished up, packing up and hun hooking thunder to the neighboring tree. They made sure thunder was well fed and such before getting on him. They made sure to leave nothing behind.

“Ready nikki?” (y/n) asked, hopping on the horse. Nikki nodded, getting on as well. “Don't fall asleep on me, okay?” (y/n) rolled their eyes. “Wouldn't dream of it.” Nikki smiled. “Good, cause your not gonna be dreaming on my watch.” they both laughed, starting up their journey once more.

It took a couple more hours and some stops, but they finally made it to the neighboring village to the arctic kingdom. The drastic weather change hit them harshly, having to grab the coats and appropriate clothes they packed for this weather. “I forgot how cold it was around here. I wonder how they even manage to have a garden in their castle…” (y/n) says, hugging onto nikki more so than before. “I've never even been here before. Never imagined how could it would be..”

They stopped at a random motel esc thing in the village. They hooked up thunder in the horse pen nearby, grabbing their bags and walking inside. Ordering a room threw niki, the two of them got into their room and collapsed on the bed there.

“Oh god i forgot how tiring traveling was. You good there niki?” (y/n) asked the pinkett, rolling over to face her. “Everything hurts.” she says, muffled by the blankets beneath her.she laid face down so it was a bit hard to hear, but they managed “Yeah i get that. We should get a bit of sleep before going to the castle.'' Nikki nodded, rolling onto her side instead of the uncomfortable position she was in before.

They fell asleep quite easily, having been up for longer than they were used to. Niki slept soon after, snoring softly. It was peaceful, for a bit, but they had to get up eventually. 

It was past noon when they awoke, groaning softly. Nikki was still sleeping, drooling a bit. (y/n) shook her awake. “Come on get up!” niki sat up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "What time is it?" She asked, her voice slightly hoarse. "A bit past noon. We should buy some things at the market out of town, sense We've run out of food." Nikki nodded, looking down at her cloths. "Oh god i slept in my shoes…" Nikki says, slipping off the soft mattress. (y/n) nodded, getting off as well. “Yeah we both did. Thank god we didn't get the bed all messed up. Come on, we need to a market.” niki nodded, readjusting her clothes. “Let's go then!”

The market wasn't too much to brag about. It was small and selled the basic things any market would. When they two of them got back, it had reached around 6 pm. (y/n) opened the door to the room they were staying in, sitting in one of the chairs. “Can't believe we had to travel that far to get to the market outside of town.” Nikki nodded, sitting on the bed, taking off her shoes this time. “Yeah, the snow didn't help either. Thunder wasn't having a fun time with that one.” (y/n) nodded, looking out the window of their room. It was nearly dark.

“How do you think we're gonna get into the castle without them thinking we're gonna kill them or something?” niki said, getting up and slowly walking up towards (y/n). “I don't know, if tommys room has changed or he isn't there, we might have to go to techno.” niki nodded. “Getting caught will make things messy.” (y/n) looked at their bag of stuff, the letters nearly falling out the bag. “This better go well. Tommy should be back from his trip with their army, there's no threat of war, everything should be okay.” niki nodded, looking out the window. It had gotten dark, the only light there was came from intown or their room. “We need to wait till midnight.” she said, plopping on the bed. “Yeah, midnight is always the best option. Wanna read till then? I brought a book or two.” niki nodded while (y/n) whent to their bag and grabbed the book in question. “I'll read to you! I like telling stories so..”

(y/n) climbed into bed next to their friend, opening the book. They start to read, niki reading along as well.

This went on till it had reached around midnight, the book being forgotten about and the both of them being fully dressed and prepared to get to the castle.

“We shouldn't take thunder, he could be more trouble than good.” niki says, lacing up her boots. “Yeah, you're probably right. Got your stuff?” she nodded, having reduced her bag to only things that would help with them sneaking into the castle.

“Alright, let's get going then!”

Niki and (y/n), making sure thunder wouldn't leave, left the small hotel for the arctic kingdom, wearing appropriate clothing for the harsh arctic weather that happens in the night. The kingdom was pretty lively at night, cloaking the two of them. Reaching the outside of the castle, they noticed no one was guarding the gate. (y/n) thought for a second, then remembered a secret entrance they and Tommy used when they were younger. 

“Niki, follow me.” she nodded, walking with (y/n) to the side of the castle. They noticed a window with a light on, one of the few ones on this side of the castle. (y/n) looked down, seeing a crack in the big wall that surrounded it. It was made of iron bars, one of which had been broken for years. They walked through, trying not to get hurt by the metal. (y/n) looked at niki. “This isn't a crime right?” they asked. “Breaking and entering? Definitely not.” she joked, looking up at the castle. “Which ones the right window?” (y/n) pointed to one of the windows. “The one to the left of the lit one. That's a storage room, so we can enter and sneak towards Tommy's room.” 

Niki nodded, looking into their bag. “Wait how are we going to get up there?” she asked, looking back at their friend. (y/n) pointed towards the vines leading up to the window. “Vines. They should be sturdy enough to still go up. If not...we’ll be in a lot of pain.” niki sighed. “So reassuring.” they laughed, starting to get onto the vine. “It should be fine.” 

They climbed up the vines, their breath being shown in the cold air. The vines were pretty sturdy, being thick enough to hold them up. Niki stayed behind, waiting for (y/n) to get through the window. (y/n) looked at the window, it being closer to them now. They noticed it was opened slightly, the room letting hot air escape. They climbed up a bit more, latching onto the window. They looked inside, seeing the door open to the small room. They sighed, opening the window and climbing threw. Once landing onto the floor of the castle, they looked out the window towards niki, waving her up.

“WHO’S THERE!?!??” (y/n) jumped, looking towards the person who just yelled at them. 

They saw wilbur holding a lantern in his hand, taking a look at the person who had just broken into his home. “Oh goddamnit..” wilbur lowers the lantern, looking at the disappointed person. “..wait (y/n)?? what are you doing here?” they sighed, stepping away from the window. “Heyyy will. This isn't awkward at all.” they sighed. “Please don't arrest me and my friend.” will, looking towards the window. “You brought a friend?” (y/n) looked at the window, seeing niki latch onto it. They helped her up. “Okay now we-AHH PRINCE WILBUR!” niki shouts, hiding behind (y/n). Wilbur laughs slightly.

“Yeah, we got caught right away.” (y/n) says, looking at the pinkett. Niki moved out from behind them, waving shyly at the prince. “Hi...im niki.” wilbur smiled. “Nice to meet you niki. Now, what are you two doing sneaking in here when you know you can just enter like you normally did.” (y/n) and niki look at each other. “That's a long story that you can tell phil.or my dad.” Wilbur sighed, moving away from the door. “Come on, we’ll go to my room. This better not be illegal.” (y/n) chuckled. “Trust me, it already is.” 

The three of them walked threw the castle, noticing just how dark and lonely it can be at night. Wilbur turned the corner heading towards the last door in the hall. He opened it, letting the two of them in. It was of decent size. The room was covered in papers, the walls being barren while the bed and desk covered. Some had ink spilled on them, either as a mistake or out of rage. (y/n) looked towards the prince. “What's all this about?” they asked, pointing towards his untidy desk. He sighed. “Tell my why your here first.” he moved the papers from off his bed so the two of them could sit down. “Fine fine.” they said, sitting on the bed. Niki followed. Wilbur closed the door, deciding to just lean against the wall.

(y/n) looked into their bag, pulling out the paper on the old kingdom of lmanburg, handing it to wilbur. “A few days ago I found this in one of my parents' history books. It had fallen out so I read it. It's about an old kingdom destroyed by a group who didn't like its ideals, probably anarchists or something. Since I wanted to get out of the castle for a while, I decided to go see it, rebuild it if you will. When I told father he didn't let me, however, niki and another friend, Karl, helped me out. I wanted to rebuild the kingdom with tommy and tubbo, so me and niki whent to see him and give him the letter i was originally just gonna send him. Now here we are, in your room.” 

Wilbur was reading over the paper (y/n) had given him. He smiled, handing it back to (y/n). “I could maybe help out. Tommy just got back so he's in a deep sleep right now. I'll hide you here till the morning when I'll bring him in here. There's one condition though.” Wilbur states. Niki nodded her head. “What is it?” 

“I help rebuild lmanburg. I like its past ideals and wanna help out. I've been wanting to get out of here for awhile, Phil leaving everything to me has been taxing. I won't be king for a long while, so I've got time.” (y/n) stood up. “Do you have a year?” the young man nodded, stepping forward off the wall. “Yeah i think so, do we have a deal young one?” he asked, holding his hand out. (y/n) looked towards Nikki, who nodded her head. (Y/n) turned back, smiling. They took his hand. “We have a deal, also I'm not that young.” he chuckled, ruffling their heads. “Sure kid.” They laughed together.

The three of them talked the rest of the night, none of them really getting tired. It was light out when someone knocked on wilburs door. They opened it without any warning, scaring the three of them. (y/n) accidentally fell on the floor while niki grabbed a carrot from her bag as a weapon.

“Heh? Wait (y/n) why are you on the floor.'' They looked up to see an unimpressed techno at the door. Wilbur rushed towards techno, shoving him inside and closing the door behind him. He made sure to lock it this time.

“Heeeyyy techno.” they said, getting up. Niki shyly put away her carrot weapon. Techno sighed. “What are you doing here?” he asked, standing next to will. “Well firstly, please dont tell Phil or my dad, secondly it's a long story.” they said, gesturing to the bed. Techno sighed, sitting down. The three of them told him what was going on, and why they had to stay a secret. Techno looked at the three of them.

 “Fine i won't tell phil, but in turn you have to braid my hair like you used to.” (y/n) smiled, nodding. “I won't be able to put any flowers in it though.” techno stood up, shaking his head. “When you're talking to Tommy, I'll get the flowers. I'll go distract Phil while you three head to Tommy's room though. I woke him up before i got here so.” (y/n) nodded, thanking the immortal man. He nodded, walking out the room.

“Why does lmanburg sound so familiar?” he said to himself, walking through the halls. 

Wilbur turned to niki and (y/n). “That went well.” they both nodded, speaking agreements to the man. (y/n) grabbed their bag. “Yeah, it went pretty well. Now, let's head to Tommy's room. Gotta complete our mission.” 

"We didn't break in here for nothing." Nikki said, following (y/n). Wilbur nodded, walking behind the two and closing the door. They looked around, making sure no one was around to see them. They walked back down the hall towards the teens room, praying no one would spot them.

They reached the door, wilbur knocking on it. An angered tommy opens it, all of them being able to feel the air from the door. “What will happen!? Can't you see I'm busy??” (y/n) steps out from behind wilbur. “No your not. Let us in.” tommy stared at them for a second. “Wait (y/n)!?” they nodded, smiling. “Mhm, now let us in.” they said showing a deadpan face. Tommy gasped, letting them all in, noticing niki as well. Wilbur closed the door, staring his younger brother down. “Tell father these two are here and where we’re going i will murder you.” tommy rolls his eyes. “Like you could kill me.” 

“Boys boys shut up your both stupid. Ugh this is gonna be a long year.” (y/n) says, turning to niki. “Why can't it just be us two.'' She laughed at this. Tommy gasps dramatically. “I am not stupid! Wilbur is though.'' Wilbur glared at tommy. “I am so gonna kill you when we leave-” “okay okay, calm down.” (y/n) says, interrupting the older man. Wilbur sighs, slumping. 

“Anyways, tommy, we snuck in here to recruit you for something!” (y/n) says, leaning against tommys bed posts. They were on both ends of the bed. Tommy stared at both niki and (y/n). “Well first who's this?” he said, pointing to the pinkett. “I'm niki! It's nice meeting you! (y/n) told me alot about you, they even told me you used to braid technos hair and put flowers-” “OKAY I DO NOT LIKE HER!! SHUT UP BITCH!!'' Tommy shouts, interrupting the smirking girl. “Yeah yeah, you hate everyone.” (y/n) says. “Now you know niki, we wanna talk to you about something we had planned.”

(y/n) then told tommy all about the kingdom, and how they missed hanging out with him and tubbo. They wanted to see them again, so they snuck in here to get him to come with them. Tommy processed all of this, thinking if he should go with them. “What ideals did it hold? How long will it be? And can i be the president?” (y/n) handed him the lmanburg paper. “Independance, freedom and others listed there. Up until i get crowned to rule the uranian kingdom so like a year. No not in a million years.” tommy ponder for a second. “Alright I'm in. I will be president one day though.” (y/n) patted his head. “Sure buddy. Sure you will.” (y/n) looked into their bag, handing him the letter they wrote to him. “This might go into a bit more detail. Now if you excuse me, im gonna sleep on your bed. “Hey hey no your not! I have more questions.” (y/n) nodded. “Alright fine. What is it. “

Tommy looked at the letter. “How are we gonna get to tubbo? He's never had a concrete place of living, how will we find him?” (y/n) thought for a second. “No idea. Might ask Jack for help since he runs the only train system in the smp...i'm really not sure though.`` Tommy just stared at them. “Wow, amazing. We’re actually gonna have to do work to find him.” tommy complains. Wilbur shuckled. “Like youre gonna help.” tommy glared at him. “Why are you even coming along anyway?? You have things to do here you know.`` Wilbur smacked Tommy's arm. “So do you! You literally lead our military tommy. We can just leave it to phil and techno sense they do absolutely nothing.”

“What do you mean i do nothing? I have to deal with you two everyday, that's enough.” techno interrupted the two's conversation, standing  in the doorway. Niki and (y/n) laughed at this. “I bet their a handful.” niki said. “Oh yeah, tommy especially. The childs really annoying and hard to deal with. Nearly strangled him once or twice.” the pink haired man said. Tommy glared at him. “Dad would kill you before you could.” techno laughed, sighing. “I'm not scared of your father, I could totally win against him in a fight.”

“Do they always fight like this?” niki asked me. “Yes they do. It gets annoying real fast.” they both laugh together. Techno turned towards (y/n), gesturing towards the basket in his hands. “You, braid, now.” (y/n) chuckled at this. “Alright alright. Sit on the bed.” techno follows this, sitting down on the side of the bed. (y/n) got behind him, grabbing the flowers and sectioning his hair. Tommy saw this and sat next to them, wanting to help out like he used to. Niki and Wilbur smiled at this, Wilbur grabbing his guitar and looking towards niki. “Do you know any songs you could sing?” he asked, sitting down on one of tommys chairs just after closing and locking the door. Niki responded, smiling softly. “I know i few.”

(y/n) and Tommy braided and placed flowers into technos hair like they did when they were kids, while Wilbur and Niki played a few songs together to add to the peaceful atmosphere. It was a nice, calming experience the five of them needed. It was peaceful, and held a bit of nostalgia for some of them. When (y/n) and Tommy finished up technos hair, they still stayed like this, quietly playing a few songs and just catching up with one another. Getting to know niki while she got to hear some funny stories about the two brothers and a young (y/n) was a nice experience. It was nice knowing they would be close friends.

They noticed how it had reached mid day by the time they had stopped telling stories. (y/n) had gotten a bit tired while Tommy got quite bored or distracted. Wilbur suggested that they had lunch together, since Phil had left that morning for a week-long trip. They all agreed, and went off to their kitchen to make a real quick meal for the five of them.

Tommy and (y/n) were in charge of setting the table, since Tommy was banned from the kitchen and someone needed to keep him in check. Niki and Wilbur made the main part of the meal, along with some treats, while techno made tea and other drinks for them all. He helped make some of the food though.

Once finished up, they all ate together at the big table in the dining hall. (y/n) and niki talked of their adventure here, how they had a horse that they needed to return to jack soon and how they had nearly gone the wrong way at some point.

Once finished, Wilbur and Tommy agreed to pack up since they had to leave to give back the horse. Wilbur and Tommy said they had their own so they did have a way of transportation. Techno, (y/n) and niki sat in the dining hall, waiting for the two of them to be done packing.

“So, i've been thinking about this lmanburg place.” techno says, messing with one of the glasses at the table. “I think that place has a lot more significance than you think.” (y/n) looked at techno. “Hm? What do you mean.”

“Well for starters, I think yo-” “WILL DONT PUSH ME DOWN THE STARS!!!! I WILL STAB YOU IN AN ALLEYWAY WITH A KNIFE!'' Tommy Yelles from upstairs, interrupting techno in the process. 

Wilbur came running into the room, being chased by an angry tommy with a knife in hand. Niki got up from her seat and tackled tommy. “GIVE ME THE KNIFE!!” she shouted, trying to get the knife from his hand. “LET ME GO BITCH!!!'' Wilbur stood near (y/n) who was wheezing in laughter.

“GIVE.ME.THE.KNIFE!!!!” niki said, trying her best to grab it. Eventually, tommy gives up and hands niki the knife. She smiled “good. No more knives okay?``Tony nodded, grabbing his bag which had fallen by the entrance. He sits next to where niki sat, who soon stood next to him. “Are we all ready to go?” (y/n) asked, standing up from their seat. Everyone nodded, techno getting up as well. “Might as well actually get stuff done instead of what normally happens.” he said, walking over to (y/n) and hugging them. “It was good seeing ya.” he says, letting go. (y/n) smiled. “Yeah, it was nice braiding your greasy ass hair again.” techno rolled his eyes. “It's not that bad.” “Sure, sure it isn't.”

Everyone said their goodbyes to techno, Tommy opting to try and stab him (he somehow got another knife). He didn't stab techno.

They 4 of them left the dining hall, opting to just walk out the castle since no one would see them today. They went to the stable, grabbing two horses for the trip. When leaving,  (y/n) and niki told them they needed to go back to the motel to get anything they left behind, plus the horse they needed to give back to their friend. They nodded, walking to the village to grab thunder and anything else.

“Thunder, I know you were alone all night and morning, but you gotta come with us man!” (y/n) said to a sluggish thunder. He didn't want to get out of the stable. “Hungry? Thirsty?” thunder seemed to respond to that, so (y/n) gave him what he needed and he finally agreed to leave. They met back with niki, wilbur and tommy, who were in front of the hotel. “We’re do we go from here?'' Tommy asked, eating a cookie he snatched from a market aways back. “We’re going to the arctic kingdom trainstation to give thunder back to jack, maybe ask him if he knows where tubbo lives nowadays.” they said, hopping on the horse niki was on. Wilbur nodded, looking down at Tommy who was the only one not on a horse. “Gonna hop on?”

“I have my own horse, dick head.” Tommy says, hopping onto the said horse. “Well i didn't say you could ride with me now did i?” “you literally did!!” the two bickered a bit, niki and (y/n) just 

leaving them behind. After they noticed the two had started to leave, they stopped fighting and followed the two of them.

They headed to the train station that was a bit out of town, hoping Jack would be there. If not, this plan got a bit more complicated.

------

series tag list, ask if you wanna be added!

@xx-smiley-xx @darkqueenhyde @livinevi 

[ninjaslegos]

I wanna pet and protect snake jay he is so cute agh can I get some headcannons about the reader finding snake him cute

I like snakes too! My sister and I both do, actually, even though we're the only ones in the family. I understand that some people can be scared of them, though.

Also this takes place in the middle of season 1, where the team is still wary of serpents.

Walker With no Legs

You're woken up by a phone call, and Kai and Cole can be heard yelling over the sound of Zane trying to ask you over.

Confused, you head over anyway, and you're greeted with a little blue racer snake thrust into your arms.

"Woah, I thought you guys couldn't get pets?" The snake coils around your wrist.

"Uh, he's not..." "I wish Nya were here to take care of him so we wouldn't have to bother you." "You don't recognize him?"

You connect the dots, and see Jay is nowhere to be seen. At least, not in a human form. "Jay?!"

He can understand you, as he nods and his tongue flicks out to smell you. He's already trying to dig into your sweater sleeve to gather warmth.

It's pretty weird for him, and he hopes this never happens again. He can't smell anything unless he sticks his tongue out, he can't generate his own heat, and he can't even get anywhere, and he's miserable about it.

The ninja assure you that they've kept all human food away from him, in case it poisons his snake body. They tell you it happened because Jay drank some mysterious tea mix in Wu's cupboards. It was too dark out for him to see the labels properly, accidentally mistaking "Serpentea" for "Smartea", as he wanted to impress Nya on their next date together.

His face can't make many expressions, but his body language tells you he's feeling embarrassed about it.

The others are too frightened or busy to take care of Jay properly, so you're the only option left. Not that you mind.

The day starts off slow, he doesn't want to move much, but you have proper equipment at home to take care of snakes, as you used to have a few of them when you were younger.

You get your heat lamp set up, and a cup of water to humanize him a little bit. He was already humiliated by turning into a snake, you didn't want to embarrass him more by giving him a water bowl like a pet.

He seems to appreciate it a lot, and hisses whenever you try to leave. He doesn't want to be alone.

He's actually a lot more active than normal snakes, as he's trying to get used to this body. You think it's cute to see him wriggle around and accidentally flop on his back once or twice.

It's also cute to just watch him sip at his water as he drapes himself over the lip of the cup, until it's half empty and topples back on him. You yelp in surprise and pull the cup off him, putting him under the heat lamp and making sure he's okay.

You're unsure what to feed him, as you're pretty sure he wouldn't eat any live prey, so you decide to wait and see if he's any better tomorrow. He can go a day without eating, right? At least you weren't stuck with a snake version of Lloyd; he'd be after your sweets the moment you turned your back on him.

The day goes by pretty slowly; there's not much to do other than watch over him and pet him. He likes scratches right behind his jaw, and leans into your nails so you can itch him better.

You leave the lamp on overnight in case he wants to keep warm at all, and let him curl up in one of the many snake huts you have lying around.

He wakes up the next morning with the hut on his head, curled up on the floor in his human body again.

He makes you promise not to tell anyone about what happened with the petting and the cup tipping over, as you serve him a large breakfast. He wolfs the whole thing down and promises you something nice in return for taking care of him.

[anika-ann]

Attached: The One Word

The Three Times Steve Didn’t Get to Hear the One Word He Wanted and the One Time He Did

Type: series, modern-college-professor Steve AU… aka the wrong attachment AU ;)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader   Word count: 7700 👀

Summary: In which Steve really, really wants to ask you the question, but the odds are always against him – absurdly so. Maybe it’s fate and he shouldn’t ask. Or maybe the universe just hates him and punishes him for tainting a girl like you and wanting you all for himself officially.

Warnings: lots of swearing, crack-ish, briefest smut so 18+ only please, sickness and fluff

A/N: I say this to you, my friends – I do not at all envy men in a heterosexual relationship for being expected to pop the question. I would chicken out every time, I’m sure of it. Enjoy!

Story masterlist

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Steve liked to think important things through. He liked planning. He liked to have all the facts and view things from different angles before making a decision.

Therefore, wanting to marry you was something he was perfectly certain of and two months after he received your mother’s blessings – two months of slowly reducing costs, preparing to lower incomes, not that they had ever been glorious ever –, Steve had a feeling that the time was finally right and that he was ready to pop the question. He was.

The only problem was that the universe started plotting against him.

Big time.

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1.

Palmeri was a relatively new restaurant, but quickly gaining reputation. Steve had heard Carol talking about taking her girlfriend there for the fun of trying a new spot and getting a taste of fancy Italian. Clearly that had a good time; the moment he learned, he started considering it. Two days later, he had to make a reservation for a week later, because the word of the delicious food travelled fast.

That was fine with him, even if he felt like he was about to jump out of his skin before the date finally arrived. Still, he advertised the fact to you that he would like to celebrate your early wrapped up exams already foreshadowing that you would obviously slayed the one you were supposed to have a day prior Friday.

When you heard the name of the restaurant, your eyes twinkled like fairy lights, a squeal of delight escaping your lips before they swiftly found his to kiss him crazy. Steve’s heart thundered in his chest as you ran off back to your books with newly-found motivation, his nerves mingling with the satisfaction that you appreciated his idea – even if you couldn’t have no clue about what he was about to do.

He could only hope that you’d be as delighted at him sinking to one knee.

But he would have to get out of this fucking interfaculty meeting FIRST!

“Seeing as the satisfaction of the students apparently took a nose dive according to the university poll last month…” Fury continued rambling, his serious and mildly snarky voice carrying through the conference room, as if mocking Steve who anxiously eyed the clock, again.

The reservation was for seven thirty.

It was five to seven.

Half an hour ago, Steve hated the idea of not taking a shower and looking his absolute best while proposing to you.

Now? Every option looked better than this. He would arrive to the restaurant all sweaty and catching his breath if he took off right this moment. And even that seemed impossible; president Fury, that son of a bitch, was nowhere close to ending the meeting.

51 weeks. 51 Fridays Fury could have called the meeting.

Nope, that bastard picked this one, the one Friday Steve was planning on sweeping you off your feet and asking you to be his for the rest of your lives.

Fucking asshole.

“Got anything to add, Professor Rogers?” a gruff voice asked him and Steve jumped in his chair and nearly dropped the phone he was pulling out of his pocket to text you with his deepest regrets – but he had to, otherwise you’d already be on your way.

Best if he saved you the embarrassment; best if you stayed home at least, all dolled up and pretty and smiling for him to show off.

Goddammit fuck.

Steve’s eyes snapped to Fury, meeting a glare that seemed even sterner with only one functioning eye.

Steve gritted his teeth and determinedly gripping his phone.

“No,” he shot back, biting his cheek when Fury’s eyebrow rose at his snappy tone. “I mean… I need to make a phone call. If you’d excuse me, it will be just a minute.”

Likely story. He would have to be apologizing for at least three minutes straight and then crawl on his knees when he finally got back home; not because you’d be so unforgiving and angry, but because it would be the right thing to do after disappointing your precious heart.

He was about to make you sad. He fucking hated making you sad.

“Make it three tops,” the president grumbled, but luckily didn’t pry what was so important for him to leave the room.

“Stevie!” your bright voice greeted him from the speaker and Steve’s heart seized in his chest, his fist automatically clenching in anger. He was about to crush you because of a dumb-ass useless meeting. He brought the fist to his mouth to stop himself from greeting you equally delighted way and fleeting the university grounds. “I’m just about to take off! I was getting worried you wouldn’t make it. Did Fury give you a hard time? … Steve?”

Steve, much to his horror, found his eyes prickling with tears of frustration as his name on your lips sounded suddenly unsure.

Fuck. This.

“Hey babygirl,” he said finally and the roughness of his voice must have been everything you needed to hear to understand.

“You can’t make it.”

Steve wanted to tear his hair out at the defeat in your voice. Talk about a nose dive of your mood.  He was gonna fucking scream.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered instead, the apology so pathetic in comparison to what he wanted to say.

But that was the irony – you couldn’t even begin to guess how much it sucked for the two of you to not being able to go to the damn Palmeri. You didn’t know the main tragedy, only a part of it. You didn’t know he had been about to propose.

Silence stretched between the two of you and Steve tilted his head back, blinking against the sting in his eyes, his stomach sinking to his feet.

“It’s not your fault,” you sighed eventually, sounding as if you were trying to convince him as much as yourself.

Steve could imagine precisely the disappointment on your face, the fall of your expression, pretty features no doubt having been accented by make-up just the right amount twisting. He could see clearly how your lips made for smiles turned downward, lower lip maybe even trembling a bit.

Steve was gonna murder Fury.

“But it is. I’m so sorry, I know how excited you were and so was I and— I’m just really sorry.”

“I know, Steve,” you breathed out weakly and he could hear the attempt of a smile in your next words. “Come home soon, yeah? I’ll wait for you.”

Steve’s heart grew in size so rapidly it actually hurt.

“I love you, sweetheart. I know--- I know you might not wanna hear it now and that it doesn’t mean much, but I really do,” he creaked.

“It does. Bye, Steve.”

Steve’s fingers clutched at the phone, eyes falling shut in defeat.

You were nice about it, sure, but the fact that you didn’t say I love you back didn’t escape him as didn’t the switch from Stevie to Steve; the subtle hints sat heavily in his gut as he returned to the room.

He met Bucky’s compassionate gaze – of course Buck knew about why Steve was distracted during the assembly – and quickly looked away, once again excusing himself for the interruption even if there was nothing sincere about his words.

His chest ached for the rest of the meeting – and would for the rest of the night.

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He did not come home soon – in fact, it was nearing eleven when he finally opened the door, trying to make no sound when he found the apartment plunged into dark. He grimaced, jaw clenching; you were already asleep.

A fresh surge of anger shot into his veins; the university hated him, he was certain of it – and the other way around. He had missed his shot because of a meeting that was literally about nothing. Fuck his life.

He grumbled, the only sound he allowed himself to make when moving around the apartment, switching the dimmest light he could as not to wake you – because disappointing you was enough, the least he could do was not to disturb your sleep.

Frustrated, tired and hungry, he tiptoed to the kitchen to grab a bite. He was starving and even though he was exhausted and craved nothing but to wrap his arms around you and sink into the cushions, he knew hunger would wake him up a few hours later if he went to bed with an empty stomach.

Upon opening the fridge, a surprise welcomed him; a ham & cheese sandwich ready on a plate, a small Tupperware box with pieces of tomatoes and cucumber on side, a sticky note simply reading ‘Stevie’.

His breath got stuck in his throat, heart hammering in his ribcage – that was how moved he was by your gesture. He knew that you must have been as upset as you had been excited to have the fancy dinner with him, but here you were, pushing your sorrows and anger aside and preparing him food, a possible olive branch.

The sandwich was nothing fancy by any means; but God, Steve loved you just a little bit more at that moment for he didn’t have to move a finger to eat so late and you even took care to set his vegetables aside, because you knew how much he hated when the bread got squishy with the juice.  

Gratefully biting into his late-night meal, Steve swore to himself he would spend the rest of his life spoiling you rotten.

When he finally got to cautiously cuddle you from behind – eyeing the absolutely stunning dress you were supposed to wear hanging outside the closet as if there to mock him – you stirred at the dip of the mattress.

Lazily blinking your eyes open, you welcomed him with a raspy hey and he had a half mind to just take the ring from the safety of its velvet box and slip it on your finger right there.

“I’m sorry, babygirl. I’m so so sorry,” he whispered, tentatively wrapping his arm around your midsection, unsure if he wasn’t in disgrace after all. You just hummed and rolled over to face him, burying your face in his chest, heavy limbs wrapping around him as if you were an octopus – the most adorable, precious, beautiful and perfect octopus in the world. His octopus. “I love you so much. I promise to make it up to you.”

“Uh-huh. Looking forward to it. Now sleep,” you mumbled to Steve’s sleepshirt, half-grumpy half-sounding as if not caring for what he was saying at all, causing him to feel warm all over.

Oh he was so going to show you just how he could make it up to you. He would marry the shit out of you.

Just you wait.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

2.

Because of a water incident, Palmeri closed three days after Steve’s first failed attempt – and assumptions were that it would remain so for a month, because they needed to redecorate.

That meant a new plan for Steve, because he could not wait that long. Out of question. He needed to hear you say yes as soon as possible. Yesterday had been too late.

So, he asked Sam for a recommendation – casually, he believed – and somehow ended up with the man looking at him for a few seconds before realization dawned on his face.

“Oooooh, I see how it is! Need something real nice, huh?” Sam whistled, a teasing grin on his face as he patted Steve’s shoulder for support. “Relax, I gotcha, man. All you need; cosy atmosphere, but classy, white table cloths and everything. The right place to take her to in order to butter her up and make her all putty.”

Steve didn’t manage to quite hide his embarrassment at being so obvious, but he knew that Sam was a friend and all his shit-talking was good-natured, always knowing where the boundaries were; he wasn’t a counsellor for nothing.

And Steve had to give it to him – the place he recommended was just what he promised it would be and exactly what Steve needed.

You were all smiles and some giggles, little tipsy on the second glass of the wine, eyes shining in the dim lights, somehow lighting up more whenever you caught him staring at you. It was the perfect display of all the good things you were, ones he adored about you, the light of his life and gazing at him as if he was yours too.

Downing some of the liquid courage himself and with you so gorgeously giddy, Steve felt his confidence building up during the night and was just about ready to get on one knee once you finished your shared dessert.

“This is good!” you gushed, digging the fork if into the cake to get another bite and Steve grinned, unable to help himself as he agreed.

“Uh-huh, sweet. But not as sweet as you.”

You stopped mid-chew, eyes meeting his and he felt his face burn hot with embarrassment at such cheesy comment.

You swallowed, gaze still fixed on him as he busied himself with the sweet treat, and then you chuckled, causing his face to turn entirely red.

“You, Steve Rogers, are so corny sometimes,” you mocked him lightly, but when he looked up, sheepish and with his confidence bruised, he found you all starry-eyed still, watching him adoringly as if he hung the moon – and he would, for you – and Steve felt himself settle again. “But I still love you. Maybe even more for that.”

It was a wonderful opening, things really going his way – but he hesitated a second too long, like an idiot, and the next thing he knew, a string quartet, a damn string quartet, walked straight to the elderly couple two tables over, one of the group congratulating them to their thirtieth anniversary and at that moment…

Well. At that moment, Steve really fucking hated them.

Who fucking cared they were a sweet elderly couple?! Steve could only dream about you two becoming them one day as of now, because they ruined just another of his fucking shots!

He couldn’t believe that he missed his window again.

And what more, you cooed under your breath, a silent aww falling from your lips and Steve knew that anything less than a string quartet accompanying a marriage proposal when delivered in a restaurant was a no-go.

So scratch that one off the list.

All guests clapped their hands, more of awws coming from different directions and you proceeded to take his hand, gentle fingers stroking over his knuckles and Steve knew one thing with absolute certainty; he needed to propose tonight otherwise he might burst.

At home then, he would ask you at home. Who even wanted something as cliché and public as he had planned? Lame. You were a private pair, some people still judged you upon seeing you together; a little intimate proposal in your home after a fancy sweet dinner would be just the thing.

Steve just had to figure how exactly and at what moment to ask. He’d be fine. You’d say yes. Right?

He was so preoccupied with his thoughts and plans that he barely noticed you growing skittish during the taxi ride, but he certainly noticed when you started practically jumping by his side as he was unlocking the door to your apartment, confused by your antics.

The second Steve opened it and stepped inside, he found himself being shoved back-first towards a wall, your hands on his chest, sliding up and down his coat and blindly undoing the buttons as your mouth assaulted his, a soft mewl vibrating against his lips, wandering hands appreciative when they slipped under the lapels of his coat and jacket.

Steve’s head spun at the display of desire, a sudden pleasant dizziness overtaking his body, all rational thoughts vaporizing as you rocked against his crotch, his cock twitching in excitement at the friction and at the way his tongue had to fight against yours. His brain grew foggy at the faint taste of wine and the cake you had shared, his hands automatically grabbing your waist to keep you close, fingers squeezing your hips and ass to urge you closer when he rolled his hips against yours, eliciting needy moans from your lips-

You withdrew for just a second to catch your breath, lips skimming over his jaw, revelling at the feel of his beard on your skin he knew you loved, hasty words whispered into his flesh.

“Dammit, Steve, you look so fucking hot in this suit--- oh Stevie,” you whimpered when his hands slipped under your backside to tease your clothed weeping core, the sensation setting his blood on fire, the delicious friction and your dirty mouth everything that mattered in the world. “Let me suck you off-“

Steve nearly choked on his own spit upon hearing that, almost losing his balance with his legs turning into jelly and all his blood rushing into his dick.

Yeah, Steve might be a professor but he was a simple guy.

When his girl, in those stunning hot as hell dress begged him to let her get on her knees to blow his dick and his mind, he really couldn’t find himself refusing, the coil in his belly searing hot by the time you looked up at him from under your eyelashes, so pretty, doe-eyed, lips kiss-swollen and willing and so fucking devilish as you freed his cock and licked the drop of precum already forming there.

“Fuck, babygirl, what’s gotten into you-“ was all he managed to ask before all he could think off was the velvety heat of your mouth, taking him all in and making him see stars, the jewellery box in the pocket of his coat long forgotten.

And fuck was also his first coherent thought in the morning, when he realized that once again, the proposal attempt ended up being an utter failure.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

3.

Steve had established after his two and half failed proposals that he wouldn’t make any reservations in some dumb restaurant. Just no. Privacy it would be; something personal, accompanied with a simple and yet big enough gesture, him doing something just for you, following with words of you being his world or something.

Yeah.

And for once, it seemed that the universe that had seemed to hate him, finally started playing in his favour.

The weather was going crazy, sun and spring in a middle of February and Steve had a revelation – he was going to take you out for a picnic. It was going to be perfect; he’d take you outside the city, find a quiet corner, just you and him, nothing in your way and more importantly, in his way to pop the question.

Steve was certain that you’d prefer this to anything else anyway, loving when he made an effort to create something for you. He still remembered when you first discovered he enjoyed drawing and you practically melted into a puddle when you found drawings of yourself too, allegedly displaying you prettier than you were – as if.

So, picnic it was.

Except on Friday, the day before THE DAY, Steve woke up with a splitting headache, his whole body hurting, nose full and lungs as if stuffed with cotton wool. He blamed the crazy weather, but it didn’t really matter where this sickness came from – he felt like shit.

He groaned and downright punched the alarm on his phone, startling you awake.

With bleary gaze, he registered you rolling over in his arms, squirming at him sleepily as he let his eyelids slip shut again.

“Steve, hun, are you okay?” you asked him softly, voice husky as he loved to hear it when you woke up, too adorable for him to keep his hands off you.

He sure as fuck wasn’t thinking about sweet and filthy morning loving now; he would have coughed out his lungs if he tried to move too much and some parts of him might fall off judging by how much everything hurt.

“Yeah,” he rasped, throat scratchy at the single word and as if from a distance, he heard a noise of sympathy, your palm instantly finding his forehead, gentle touch soothing against his burning skin.

“You’re absolutely not okay. Stevie, you’re burning up,” you whispered compassionately and Steve blinked his eyes open, the little light in the room causing him to snap them close again immediately. Ouch.

“Fuck my liiiiife,” he groaned, prolonging the last syllable, which proved to be a wrong thing to do, sending him into a couching fit due to his scratchy throat.

Your hands roamed his shoulders and back as he rolled over to his side from you, hoping to suck in some air to continue coughing.

“Oh Stevie, I’m sorry. I’ll bring you some medicine when I’m back from school, yeah? And I’ll make some soup,” you assured him kindly, dropping a kiss to his shoulder before your pleasant warmth disappeared, leaving him too cold and hot at the same time.

Seriously. FUCK HIS LIFE.

Grunting, he fell to his back, exhausted by one stupid coughing fit, whole body heavy; and he must have fallen asleep too, because the next thing he knew, soft lips were touching his forehead, tender fingers brushing messy strands of hair away. He stirred, forcing his eyes open to be greeted by a sight of that angelic face of yours, complete with a halo of light around you.

“I already called Bucky. He’ll sort out your classes today, alright? There’s a tea on your nightstand along with some last Tylenol we have.”

Steve squinted in the direction of the piece of furniture you mentioned and sure enough, there it was, everything you said it would.

What a pretty dutiful nurse you were. God, he loved you.

As he eyed you then, deep sense of longing settled in his swimming stomach, more so as he didn’t miss the gorgeous thermo leggings and long sweater hugging your figure, reaching your mid-thighs.

All Steve wanted was to pull you back to him so he had a human furnace in bed with him, the soothing smell of your shampoo to comfort him – even though he probably wouldn’t be able to smell it. But his hands would still be able to explore your delicious body, grope and hold it close to his and you could maybe ramble about everything and anything, lulling him to sleep.

But no, you were leaving to school, leaving him alone in the apartment.

Just him, himself and his fucking flu.

He eyed you wistfully, lips pursed at your concerned expression.

“When you’ll be back?”

The wrinkle between your brows smoothened, a smile playing in the corner of your mouth.

“I have class until eleven. I see what I can do. I’m gonna have to hit the pharmacy and make some shopping,” you explained patiently, casing Steve to groan. Too long. So so long… Your smile widened, another kiss landing on his temple this time. “But I’ll be back before you know it. Get some rest, Professor Rogers.”

Your teasing tone made him growl, the action effectively sending him into another coughing fit and through glassy eyes, he saw you disappear from the room with one last glance over your shoulder.

Steve closed his eyes and breathed in deeply – oh, the delicious air – and then buried himself in the covers, praying that a decent sleep would make him feel better.

It didn’t, not quite. What did make him feel much better was the Tylenol and the sirup you brought along.

The absolute best was when you were there for him to cuddle you to sleep in the evening; somewhere in the back of his mind, he was aware that he was being a giant baby and was being utterly ridiculous, but God help him, this was all he needed the whole day.

He sighed blissfully as he hugged your midsection while you were sitting propped on the back-rest, soft light from the nightlamp illuminating the pages of the book you were reading. You were warmth, the gentle kind and Steve felt you seeping into him, fingers of one hand raking through his hair; he felt himself getting high on your loving care and cough sirup.

“I love having you here,” he muttered into the fabric of your pyjama, feeling you shift in your position a little, probably as you looked at him.

“Yeah?” you asked, sounding as if you were smiling, maybe even laughing at him; but he couldn’t care less, already drifting off to sleep, just content to have you.

“You’re warm and nice… and the prettiest nurse. And I love you. You’re my everything.”

“Oh Stevie,” you cooed sweetly, kissing the crown of his head and he preened at the sensation, smiling lazily. “I love you too.”

His heart skipped a beat as he nuzzled into your flesh and heard you gently toss the book away, your other hand now caressing his cheek.

“Yeah? Will you always be here? I want you to always be with me,” he admitted sheepishly, drawing a soft giggle and earning a kiss on his forehead.

“God, you’re adorable like this…”

Steve grunted, discontent with your reaction. “Not an answer.”

“I’ll always be here if you want me to, Stevie,” you answered dutifully, causing warmth fill his chest even if your body was shaking with hushed laughter; he felt it, but didn’t care. For your words however, he did; phew, as if he ever wanted something else, as if you had the right to question that!

He really needed to propose soon… just not tomorrow. You’d probably say no if he asked you, blaming his request on the fever. Naively.

“I wanna,” he mumbled, trying to squeeze you tighter. “Mine. My pretty girl. My babygirl. Forever.”

“Forever is a long time,” you noted, smile once again lacing your voice, along with an emotion, oh so soft one, he didn’t have the capacity to identify anymore. “But that’s what it’ll be if that’s what you want.”

Finally satisfied and with determination in the back of his mind, Steve let your love bridge him over to the dreamland, distantly aware of your fingers still playing with his hair.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

+1

Steve’s mother used to say his that flu lasted a week under a doctor’s care; and seven days without it. Of course, when he was younger with many health issues, it was more complicated than that, but he got the message.

Under your care, he felt considerably better after five days, only a mild case of a runny nose remaining. On a Thursday morning, he even found himself awake before you did, before your alarm went off.

Contemplating whether he should stay in bed with you or get shit done, he lazily scooped away a bit and propped himself on his elbow to feast his eyes on his pretty nurse.

Your hair was a messy halo around your head, your brows were lightly crooked as if you were having an unpleasant dream, your lips parted just a fraction, the softest snort escaping you.

Steve felt himself grin, a love-sick lift of the corners of his lips.

You were so freaking cute.

And seeing you, relaxed, but clearly catching up with sleep to beat your exhaustion to which he abundantly contributed, he knew he couldn’t stay in bed; in fact, he had to make you breakfast to bed, for all the troubles he put you through and for the attentive care you lavished him with.

Sure, when he was getting overly needy and whiny or cranky, you weren’t shy to call him out on his shit – which only made him love you more – but otherwise you were admirably patient.

As if he hadn’t already known that you were a keeper before that; this only solidified his conviction. If everything about you didn’t scream put a ring on it, then he wasn’t Steven Grant Rogers.

Hell, he had a half-mind to propose you just at that moment, all domestic atmosphere and sweet gesture like breakfast in bed, but he wasn’t certain it wouldn’t look like the past few days were what pushed him over the edge. That would only be a half-truth--- quarter-truth?

Shaking his head at his own dumb thoughts, he gathered the pancakes, yogurt, various pieces of fruit and obviously, a coffee, laying it on a tray he had nearly forgotten he owned and tiptoed to the bedroom, honestly surprised that you hadn’t woken up yet with him fumbling around.

He stopped dead in his tracks when you sighed and stirred, rolling over and stretching out a hand as if in a search for him, only to find the space empty. Something between a hum and a damn meowl fell from your lips and Steve had to remind himself what it was he wanted to do besides trying his best to find out how exactly he could make you repeat that sound.

So precious. Absolutely adorable. Beautiful. Tempting.

You clutched the empty sheets, but didn’t wake and Steve crossed the distance to the bed, carefully setting the tray on the nightstand as he went to sit on the bed next to your waist, a dopy smile on his face.

Laying a hand on your thigh, he squeezed a little, attempting to wake you gently; he knew you got jumpy when something tickled your face, so this was the safer option.

You stirred once again, but didn’t wake, your eyes only fluttering open when he called your name a few times, alternating with your favourite term of endearment.

You squinted at him, appearing confused and groaning. Steve grinned.

“Morning, sunshine,” he hummed, finally allowing himself to run the pads of his fingers from your forehead to your cheek and jaw, leaning into drop a kiss to your lips.

He froze, his brain on alert as he registered how hot your face felt.

The faint snoring. Squinting against light. Not waking up sooner than him. Your face pretty much burning to touch.

Oh no.

“Babygirl… are you feeling sick?” Steve whispered hesitantly, met with a bleary gaze and a pout.

“Wasn’t feeling great even yesterday evening…” you said, voice hoarse – whether from sleep or the flu Steve had managed to infect you with, he couldn’t tell.

But he certainly felt guilty, even if it was inevitable, really; with all you sweet care and constant proximity, it was only a matter of time. Not that it made him feel any better.

“Oh sweetheart, I’m so sorry-“

“Not your fault-“

“Kinda is-“

“Steve dammit!” you hissed, your eyes flying open fully and Steve knew what was coming; still, he grimaced as you coughed. “Shit. I hate flu.”

“Tell me about it. You think you can eat something?” he fussed, snapping into his nurse mode right away, ready for your roles to reverse.

You hummed and tried to sit, your gaze falling on the nightstand for the first time. Your expression, having been twisted in a grimace, softened instantly. As you turned to him, he suddenly felt sheepish. Was he acting like a love-sick fool?

“You made me breakfast to bed?” you cooed, snuggling into the covers before gesturing for him to help you sit up. “You’re the best.”

“I’ll be better if I make you some tea to go with it… and bring cough sirup… and stuff, yeah?”

You smiled like a loon – well, you tried, the result kinda faint, a testimony to your exhaustion – and Steve quickly rose to his feet.

“You’re the best.”

“Nope, that’s you. Eat your breakfast, babygirl.”

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Steve could tell you still didn’t feel exactly alright and the idea of eating wasn’t thrilling to you, but the pleaser you were, you tried your best for him to see that you appreciated his effort to make breakfast. When he brought you the tea, the medicine and water to down it, you were hallway through the pancakes, even though you seemed to force yourself into every bite.

“You don’t have to make yourself sicker just because you feel like you have to eat this, you know,” he hummed nonchalantly, causing you to grimace and take another two bites before sighing and pushing the tray away.

“It’s really yummy though… I think,” you stated, a wry smile playing in one corner of your lips. “Thank you.”

And you sounded so honestly grateful, clearly attempting for the smile to look real even with your eyes blazed and your features undeniably displaying tiredness, that Steve had to chuckle as he handed you the pills.

“Glad you liked it, sweetheart.”

You went to drop a careful kiss to his cheek when a coughing fit took you by surprise, starling him and resulting in you clutching both your chest and head, wide hurt eyes looking up at him as he smiled, tight-lipped and compassionate; he knew exactly how you felt.

And you were still kinda adorable, pouting a bit, looking at Steve as if he could save you from the evil flu monster.

“I hate flu… but I really like you. Thank you for taking care of me,” you said sincerely, emphasizing your point with an obviously unplanned sneeze.

Steve lips twitched, but so did his heart. His hands went to caress your hair, earning a pleased hum.

“Just returning the favour.”

“Uh-huh. Don’t think I was that nice.”

“You were,” he assured you, feeling need to add a little piece of important information, just to show how much he meant it. “Just made me fall in love with you all over again.”

“Sweet-talker. I bet that’s all gone now, seeing me about to go through a box of tissues a day,” you chuckled weakly, nearly sinking into the cushions.

Steve wasn’t sure what was it he was suddenly overcome with; how or in which exact moment it sneaked into his conscience, a crazy insane thought and the untameable feeling in his gut that nudged him to do it.

To do it right now. To tell you, truly and from the depth of his heart, how much you meant to him. How much he was sure you always would.

“No, it’s not. I want to take care of you,” he whispered, hesitantly taking a hold of your slightly clammy hands and gently squeezing. You reciprocated the action, even if weakly.

“I want to take care of you and I want you to take care of me. I want to have you by my side every day, in our home, in our bed,” he continued, for once not talking only about different ways of making you moan his name when mentioning a bed. “I want to kiss you stupid whenever I get the chance, I want to laugh with you when you’re happy and hold you when you feel like crap. I want us to fight the whole world if they tell us that our love is wrong, because I know there’s nothing more right than me loving you and you loving me.”

The words spilled from his lips without much thinking, just one following other, somehow making sense, he hoped.

The strange buzz of nerves in his ears was so loud that he barely registered you breathed out his name.

“Steve-“

His eyes never left your face, watching it crumble under the weight of his declaration, already glassy eyes turning wetter, breathing ragged almost as much as his was from the rapid fire of words. Your lips parted in beautiful awe, that beautiful awe he had seen before, whenever you seemed to be shocked by how deep his need for you ran.

There was no questioning what should come next. Only half-aware of doing so, Steve had already prepared the ground.

“Stay right here,” he blurted out, giving your hands another quick squeeze before straightening rapidly and nearly tripping over his feet as he rushed towards his desk, opening the third drawer. Your voice, laced with both confusion and overwhelming emotion, followed him.

“I- I’m not going anywhere. What’s-“

“Sh-shh,” Steve hissed distractedly and took a deep breath as his fingers finally met with the box, gripping it tightly and his palm covering it as he stalked back to the bed, heart hammering in his ribcage.

This was the right moment, right? It seemed ridiculous, but god, so so right.

“You’re lucid, right?” he asked just to make sure, wavering only for a bit; you might be sick, even have a headache maybe, but you certainly appeared lucid enough a moment ago. But maybe that would be the reason you’d say no?

Shit, he felt like teenager about to ask his first crush to sit with him at lunch.

“I—I think? I’m just hella confused…“ you stuttered, causing his already wild heart to skip a beat upon hearing the nerves in your voice.

Your eyes, wide with confusion and yet slightly narrow because light hurt, watched Steve carefully as he dropped to his knees by your bedside and he didn’t think he ever saw you looking more endearing.

Steve had never been more certain of the fact that he wanted you to be his wife; and yet, and maybe precisely because of that, a lump formed in his throat. He took a deep calming breath, bracing himself.

“I love you. I love your mind, your body, your soul and everything that’s you and I—I think you’re the most wonderful woman I have ever met and had the luck to fall for. So I…”

With another heartskip, loud pounding in his head and maybe a tiny bit of a shake to his hands, he rose to only one knee, not missing your expression turning into a picture perfect of shock when he held out the box he had been thinking about for too long.

“Oh my god, Steve-“

“Please let me do this,” he whispered, barely audible, mostly because while you seemed absolutely stunned, you didn’t look angry or horrified, so he sensed a chance.

“I’m running a fever, my nose is running too and I’m--- ew all over-“ you protested weakly, a tear actually running down your cheek, but then you chuckled, a hand flying up to cover your mouth and Steve felt his confidence rise.

“You’re not, and even if you were I wouldn’t care. You’re my everything and wish nothing more than to make you mine officially.” Unable to wait any longer under you attentive and entirely adoring gaze, he opened the box and said your full name, nearly choking on it under the overwhelming joy of the moment – because he already knew. He knew what you were gonna say; you had it written all over you face. “Will you marry me?”

Steve knew. He was so sure that he knew--- and yet. Yet. As the silence prolonged, lasting seconds, minutes even – hours, it must have been – Steve felt the nervous coil in his gut twist painfully.

He watched you with torturous anticipation as you were; semi-sat up on a bed, hurting, probably beginning to sweat through your pyjama and drinking chamomile tea to get rid of the bug you had caught from him, and here he was, proposing.

In sickness and health indeed; and in some absurd way, this all made perfect sense to him… well, it had, a minute ago.

You looked like a million thoughts were racing through your head, and Steve felt his heart sink to his stomach. What if you truly were thinking he was crazy-

“Yes,” you said at last and Steve released the breath he was holding, endlessly relieved, the heaviness weighting a ton finally falling from his shoulders. Oh Chirst, thank fuck—he really had been getting worried- “Yes, I-“

Relief blended into delight as he heard you speak the beautiful word again.

Yes. Yes, you wanted to be his wife.

Yes, you wanted to marry him!!

An incredulous chuckle spilled from his lips and he tossed the box on the bed, swiftly moving up and grabbing your face to kiss you stupid as he wanted and had said that he always would.

You made a startled noise, but you giggled too, grasping onto his shoulders and his nape and kissing back with all you got—and then you were pulling away, fighting for breath, because flu, duh, he needed to be careful with you, but-

You agreed to marry him!

Keeping you as close as possible while allowing you to breathe, his eyes happily roamed your face, so pretty and adorable and the knowledge of him being able waking up next to that face for the rest of his life sent his heart into frenzy, sparkles of pure joy filling his chest.

“I love you! Thank you, babygirl,” he exclaimed, kissing you once more, a short but intense encounter of lips that caused you to giggle again—but he didn’t give a shit if he was being ridiculous. Your eyes, even if tired, seemed to glow now, happy twinkles dancing in your irises, telling him you were just as excited and delighted as he was. “Thank you-“

“You’re so crazy-“ you mumbled, dropping a kiss to his shoulder as you still shook with laughter and Steve simply climbed on the bed fully, wrapping you in his arms tightly.

He could sing at how you fit into his arms.

“I am. For you.”

“I can’t believe you proposed to me while I’m lying sick on a bed,” you mumbled over his shoulder, sounding as if you were complaining a little.

“In sickness and health?” he offered nervously, holding you tighter just in case you were going to back out now. Which was not an option.

He had to physically put the ring on your finger. Right now. Then you wouldn’t be able to change your mind.

In the back of his brain, an annoying voice told him that this was not how it worked, that there was no guarantee. But Steve shushed that voice and withdrew only enough to reach for the box and with a grin so wide he could feel his cheeks hurt from the strain, he took a hold of your left hand, slipping the ring on.

He didn’t miss the way your breath caught and he didn’t think the flu was to blame for that; the ring looked lovely on your hand. And Steve was a smidge proud of how he managed to make it fit perfectly.

“Steve… the ring-”

“You don’t like it?” he worried in an instant as he detected a new emotion in your voice.

You went to lightly slap his shoulder, rolling your eyes – an action you apparently regretted by the silent groan that followed; just another reminded of your sickness.

“Shush, you dummy. It’s--- breath-taking, but-“ you bit down on your lower lip, clearly hesitant to speak your mind and Steve didn’t find it at all comforting that you said you did like then ring. Not with the but. You sounded almost guilty, which was… strange. “But must have been so expensive and we still haven’t really-“

Oh. Oh.

Steve felt his lips spread back into a smile.

His sweet, sweet girl, responsible and perfect. He hated the reminder of your father’s behaviour, of the fact that you were ashamed on his behalf and felt guilty.

Steve didn’t want that.

“If I tell you it wasn’t, will you be mad?” he offered, watching carefully for your reaction, and your thoughtful expression turned into a confused one.

“Wasn’t?“

“I just had it cleaned and re-sized.”

You blinked, eyelids heavy, and tilted your head in bewilderment—melting into a brief panic and Steve realized what must have crossed your mind.

His stomach clenched in horror at you even considering it. You might have thought it was meant for another woman from his life.

Which it was, but not the way you thought!

“It was my ma’s!” he blurted out in panic, causing you to flinch a bit in fright of his suddenly louder voice. Steve shook his head – he was so messing this whole proposal thing up – clearing his throat, he observed your face, now full of emotion he couldn’t read. “…is that okay?”

There were tears prickling in your eyes, no words leaving your mouth as he had managed to render you speechless and he could punch himself for making you feel whatever you were feeling.

He had to fix this, fast.

“We can absolutely pick up something else if you don’t like the idea!” he was quick to offer, his heart speeding up when you still didn’t say a word. But you didn’t seem… that mad. What was happening in your head though, that was a mystery to him. “It’s just… she always told me that it was the second most precious thing she had left after dad, right after me, and that she wants me to give it to-- please don’t cry.”

Yes, he made the tears spill. There were a few rolling down your cheeks and Steve… he was starting to recognize the emotions playing in your expression, but he couldn’t entirely put his finger on it.

Honestly, he couldn’t tell whether you were so touched by the whole inherited ring gesture or if you were hating him with your very being for ruining some picture-perfect proposal you had been dreaming about since you were five; angry and disappointed that he didn’t even have the decency to buy you your own ring.

Probably a bit of both.

“Steve, you romantic idiot, come here,” you choked out, by a miracle not coughing for once and before he could even react and let the relief sink in, you grabbed him by his shoulders and pulled hard.

You had a surprisingly a lot of strength for someone coming down with a flu – actually, being down with a flu.

He landed on you, barely catching himself before he could crush you, a surprised laugh spilling from his lips, delight once again lighting up his world.

“I love you, Steve,” you whispered, pecking his lips, fingers sinking to his hair and that moment, Steve was in heaven. “So much.”

He grinned wide, wrapping his arms around you and holding you to his chest as tight as he could, feeling both his own heartbeat and yours, tumbling happily and together.

“And I love you… future Mrs. Rogers.”

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Tied to you (next in timeline)

S.R.masterlist

Attached masterlist

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Not gonna lie. Thought of posting this in four parts of maybe at least two (3 and +1), but then I thought, screw it, let’s post 7,7k words at once. I hope you made it through all of them.

What’s coming next? I have no idea... maybe it’s who’s ‘coming’ next 👀

Thank you for reading!

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Wings. [Pt.6]

Daryl Dixon x Reader [Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5]

A/N: The last chapter! I wasn’t sure if I was gonna be able to find a good opportunity to write an ending into but I did. I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I had fun writing it <3

Daryl woke early that morning, his mind not getting much rest after his dreams kept showing him many ways to ruin the talk he was planning to have today. Mulling over what he had seen over the course of the night he just couldn't lay still and got out of bed, careful to not wake you up.

He got downstairs and dug around for something to eat, feeling strange to look in someone else's cabinets. Thinking of it, it was actually kind of rude to feed himself from your stash. He quickly came up with a new plan; shared breakfast. He continued to look around what you had laying around and took out everything he could use. Then he made his way out of your place as quiet as possible and checked his and Carol's place for anything to complete his breakfast plan. Carol never expected him home and almost threw a kitchen knife at his sneaky entrance.

"Hey Daryl, what brings you back here?" she asked while going back to her doings. "Jus' grabbin' some stuff ta make breakfast." He mumbled, grabbing the items he was looking for. "Imma head back now, later." He called to her and left.

Getting back to your place he was pleased to see you were still asleep. Daryl knows he isn't the bets cook, but he also knows that it's the idea that counts. Not that he'd be disappointed if his breakfast sucked, so he went with something simple enough. Making food was already difficult with the limited recourses, but not really knowing how to cook made it even more of a challenge. But he did find some bread in your cabinets, and took some of the meat Carol had prepared. She let him take it after admitting he was making breakfast for the two of you. He also found some eggs. Now the plan was to make some nice tasty sandwiches for the two of you and have breakfast in bed.

Upstairs you were still sound asleep thanks to the tightly drawn curtains. Not much light managed to make it into the room so that you could catch up on some much needed hours of rest. That was, of course until the reconstruction work on the wall started and woke you up. Groaning you stretched and rolled out of bed. Of course Daryl was awake already, he was always up early for hunts. You put on some comfortable clothes and went downstairs to start your day.

The smell creeping up the stairs wasn't one you'd expect. If you had to expect any kind of smell it would be cigarettes now that Daryl was staying with you, but eggs and-- You couldn't really place the rest --wasn't it at all.

It didn't smell bad at all, and the idea of Daryl making food for you was one you'd happily get used to. When you got to the hallway you could hear soft curses coming from the kitchen. Daryl was complaining something about the eggs and you decided it was time to go have a quick look before he'd throw your only usable pan out of the window. Quietly making your way over to him you observed some more. The kitchen was a mess, but you could see two plates set with bread and meat on them. Turning the corner you yawned a good morning, hoping to convince Daryl you had just gotten downstairs and hadn't been staring at him for the last few minutes.

"Ah, g'mornin'. Crap." He sighed. "Was gonna surprise ya with breakfast in bed." You smiled sweetly at his confession and awkward cooking self. "Thank's okay. I prefer breakfast at the table anyways." You reassured him. "I think the eggs are good, by the way." You pointed towards the pan and walked over to the plates Daryl had set on the other side of the counter. Helping Daryl with the last bit of breakfast felt nice. It was all still weird to you, so homey and  calm. Like there wasn't a threat outside of the community walls.

With your food in hand you walked over to the coffee table with Daryl following you closely. You sat down and waited for him to be seated as well before taking your first bite. It was surprisingly good for how much you heard him curse earlier. You hummed in delight.

"S' really good, thanks, Daryl."  Getting complimented by you got his heart feeling all warm and fuzzy, something he wasn't used to and didn't really know how to react to. "Thanks, you." He said between munches. It was honestly so cute so see him outside of his usual, oil covered, walker hunting ways. Daryl in a normal day-to-day house setting was good. It felt good. You wanted life to be good so you had to keep the good things close.

"So, you wanna move in with me?" You blurted out before your head could agree that it was a bad plan. Daryl half choked on his sandwich at your sudden question. You knew Carol was seeing Ezekiel so there was a high chance that she was gonna be staying at the Kingdom for longer periods soon and then you and Daryl would both be alone in your own houses.

Daryl sat there, thinking of how to continue this conversation, not really sure how to. "How 'bout we finish our food first, yeah?" On one hand, so it wouldn't get cold. On the other to give him more time to think. You nodded in agreement and quickly finished your sandwich. But not fast enough to not enjoy it every single bite. Daryl happily finished his as well, although slower than you did.

You let Daryl eat in peace and went to the kitchen to clean up a little. During breakfast you had noticed Daryl being a little tense so you were gonna let him do his thing at his own pace. You knew that was the best option.

As you had expected Daryl came into the kitchen, leaning against the wall and putting his place on the counter. “Can we talk now?” He asked, to which you nodded yes and picked up his plate to put it in the sink. You nodded your head towards the back door and walked onto your back porch to sit down against the wall of the house. Daryl joined in next to you and sat cross legged, turned towards you.

“So, we eh..” he was still digging for the words he had been rehearsing in his head the whole morning. Maybe that was also why he almost ruined the eggs. “We finished our run. An’ we lived.” It came out as a statement, but you were already aware of what was gonna come afterwards. You both agreed you had to talk about the two of you if you managed to come back from the run unharmed.

“Yeah we did. I’m glad we did.” You stared mindlessly in front of you. “If you move in with me you can have the garage.” You added matter-of-factly. Daryl’s head turned back towards you immediately at that and you laughed. “Is that a yes?” Daryl couldn’t help but laugh as well, “Imma talk to Carol first, yeah?” he said, pointing in the direction of his house.

“That other thing, though.” He added, biting at the skin on his thumb.

“The dating thing, yep.” You nodded your head again. “I eh..” you just had to say it out loud. “I love you. You know that by now, right?” You asked carefully.

Truthfully there was no way he didn’t know after that whole thing with Kelly and Judith. “Also, please don’t think I won't let you go on hunts anymore if we’re gonna get more serious. I know how important those are and I don’t want to keep you locked in here.”

Daryl turned his back against the wall and leaned towards you, putting his head on your shoulder. “Thanks for all’a that.” He head and kissed your jawline.

“I love ya too.” He returned, “Just don’t go stayin’ awake all the time ta wait for me ta get home, okay?” He now looked you in the eyes. “Ya need yer sleep ta care for everyone here.” Now it was your turn to move a little and kiss him properly, putting your legs over his and hugging him close.

“Now,” you breathed and got up from his lap. “Wanna go fix that garage?”

Daryl happily took his hand in yours and let himself be led by you, ready to start this something new with you.

[mooniefics]

in the grand scheme of things [ 3 ]

pairings : zeke jaeger / reader, referenced eren jaeger / reader

word count : 5.5k

tags : unhealthy relationships, relationship discussions, implied cheating, drinking, break ups, mutual infidelity, dubious morality, love triangles

warning : descriptions of alcohol and drug use

summary : you and eren hadn't been doing the best these past few months, and no one that you knew seemed to have any answers for you, or pointers in the right direction. who better to offer you some sound, insightful relationship advice than his older brother. or so you thought.

— originally posted 1 / 28 / 21 on ao3 —

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sasha  3:47 pm hey u down to party tonight?? jean told connie he could get us into another one of the azo parties again

you sighed at the sight of the notifications on your phone from its place on the passenger's seat, pensively drumming your fingers on your steering wheel. the most recent party of the most popular fraternity chapter on your campus you'd attended had been the last party you'd subjected yourself to attending—the halloween party where you'd gotten ditched out and subsequently cheated on. though you could admit that it had been fun in the moment, especially when you had caught the struggle between sasha and historia when she saw your roommate snap a picture of her kissing the standoffish sophomore that always helped her with her english lit homework, ymir, rather than the fraternity guy she was meant to be with.

the memory of that night, at least the time before you'd realized your boyfriend and his annoyingly attractive best friend were nowhere to be found, made you consider. classes did start back up next week, and the most eventful thing you'd done over the break was your quaint little family get-together for new year's eve—and your two rendezvous with zeke, meetings that you were slowly beginning to feel more and more skeptical about as time went on—and you were sure that your second semester would drown you in work just as much—if not more—than you'd had in your first semester. so as soon as you came to a stop at a red light, you picked your phone up to shoot her back a message, laughing to yourself when she replied instantly.

               you  3:51 pm party on a wednesday?                            really?

sasha   3:51 pm come onnnn please??? i heard nikos gonna be there! ur rlly gonna make me go all alone??

so that was why she wanted to go, to see the foreign culinary major that somehow always managed to send her back to the dorm with a large plate of food and a blinding smile plastered on her face for at least the next hour. you were honestly surprised that they hadn't gotten together yet, considering how many common interests they'd shared.

a pleasant thought suddenly popped into your head, the thought that she was probably asking you because mikasa had already declined, meaning that she wouldn't be in attendance. armin was out in turkey with eren, ensuring his absence. that fact made you feel a bit less anxious about accepting sasha's invitation. you could catch up with the friends you'd been unable to see while you were off-campus—or too swamped with work to be able to reach out to—let loose one last time before you were trapped back in the monotonous cycle of working, sleeping, crying, and eating for the next couple months until spring break. your mind had been made up.

                          you  3:52 pm    fine. i'll go as moral support. but no promises u won't have  to babysit after you've had ur                          fun with nikolo  this break has been rough for                                       me lol

sasha  3:53 pm oh god my i loveyou so much already picking out our outfits

you chuckled to yourself, slipping your phone into the cupholder as the brake lights of the car in front of you flashed off and you eased your foot onto the gas. you made it back to the dorm relatively quickly, sasha more than elated to see you even though you didn't have any food to bring back for her. and just as her text message had read, she'd already laid out one of your nicer dresses and a set of heels that didn't absolutely kill your feet by the end of the night by your bed, digging through the closet with a pile of discarded clothes growing on the floor.

"thanks sash," you giggled, "but don't you think it's a little to be getting ready? what time's the party?"

"connie told me seven-thirty, but jean said for us to come an hour later so we aren't the only ones there." she spoke over her shoulder, huffing as she tossed another piece of clothing aside, "but i wanna look good! i'm gonna hop in the shower as soon as i find the right thing to wear."

holding out your dress before you, you frowned. it was simple, black and made of a sheer, clingy material with lace accents decorating the low neckline, thin straps that bared the entirety of your shoulders and a modest amount of cleavage. it was one of your favorites, but the half-healed bruises scattered across the skin that would be exposed by it wasn't ideal.

"oh, don't forget to take a cheap coat that you don't mind forgetting. it's kinda chilly out, and i always end up losing track of mine during the night."

you let out a breath of relief, remembering that covering up a bit more would be weather appropriate. "yeah, i'll wear a long-sleeved undershirt and something light on top." perfect.

you waited until sasha had gathered her toiletries and scurried off to the nearest bathroom to change clothes, feeling your face heat up at the thought of zeke, the initial deep pigmentation having faded out over the last two days but still a very visible shade of faint red. you were fully dressed upon your roommate's return, earning an excited slew of compliments from her as she wrapped up her hair in a towel and settled down beside you to get started on her makeup.

you were actually grateful for how early she'd insisted on getting ready considering how long she'd agonized over her eyeliner, or how many times she'd applied and removed her lashes, complaining that "something was off" or "it just didn't look right". your suggested time of arrival came in no time at all, and by then sasha was more than eager to start rushing you despite the pace she'd been moving at earlier.

"hurry!! if niko brings food, i don't wanna get there by the time it's all gone!" she whined, jiggling the doorknob to your room impatiently, "for the thanksgiving party, he brought a charcuterie board with all these nice cheeses on it and it was so good, he looked so happy watching me eat it, it was so cute!"

you chuckled softly at her enthusiasm, shoving the last of your things into your clutch, zipping up your phone in the small inner pocket to insure that you didn't drop it and forget on the floor of someone's house this time. "i'm sure that even if we got there late, he'd set aside plenty of food for you."

the walk to the fraternity's designated house was made much shorter by sasha's insistence, practically dragging you along by the wrist the whole way at a near jog. you couldn't deny that you were feeling a bit nervous about the whole ordeal, knowing that you would have sasha, connie, and jean at the very least, but unaware as to what you would really do besides mill around. at the halloween party, you'd been able to play the variety of drinking games that had been set out for the guests with eren and his friends, but now you weren't entirely sure who to stick to for the majority of the night.

you didn't want to bother jean or connie after they'd gotten secured you an invite, and you were sure that sasha was expecting to be able to spend some time alone with the guy she'd came to see in the first place, meaning you'd have to spend a majority of the night alone, or the unfavorable option of mingling with unfamiliar people. but you realized that was a pill you'd have to swallow as you approached the steps of the house, nearly tripping up over your feet from the speed that sasha was hauling you along at, watching her furiously knock at the door.

there were people wandering about in the yard, some on their phones, most likely waiting for their own friends to arrive, and a smoky stench of something that definitely wasn't just tobacco wafting from the group of men camped out on the porch murmuring amongst each other. you could hear the volume of the music inside the house, almost able to feel it thrumming across the floor if you focused enough.

"thomas!" she exclaimed at the sight of a younger-looking blonde boy when the door opened, whose existence you honestly had no idea about until just now, grinning so broadly it made your own cheeks hurt for her, "jean invited us!"

"oh, come right in." he beamed right back, calling loudly over his shoulder, "yo, jean, your friends are here!"

the inside of the house looked just as you expected, already crowded to max capacity, jean having to maneuver past the throng of people gathered near the front to approach the two of you. "damn, i feel like i haven't seen you in forever." he did his best to speak over the music, wrapping you up in a friendly squeeze, "glad to see you could finally make it." he turned to sasha. "niko's already in the kitchen, by the way. asked when you were coming just a few minutes ago."

sasha's face lit up with glee, turning to you, silently asking for permission to go off on her own as if you could ever deny her and her overly-eager expression. "go get 'em, tiger." you smiled, giving her a few pats on her shoulder to send her off on her way, watching her disappear into the crowd in record time.

but before apprehension of her absence could set in, you felt jean's arm sling around your shoulder, pulling you into his side. "c'mon, you didn't think i was gonna ditch out and let you hang alone all night?" you giggled, turning your head up to look at him properly for the first time.

you'd first met jean in your statistics class, an unfortunate requirement for your major of choice, and initially bonded over your mutual connection through sasha. they'd been good friends in high school, and you'd just moved into a room for at least the next year with her, so you figured it'd do you well to have someone who could get you in her good graces in the event that you two didn't get along. but, thankfully, you two were just fine on your own, and sasha and jean became your first friends outside of the small group you and eren shared.

the only real conflict of interest between the two of you seemed to be your aforementioned boyfriend, and you couldn't really be upset at him for that. eren could be difficult to get along with even at the best of times, he wasn't a terrible person—at least before he'd cheated—but he wasn't exactly the most friendly either.

"is this piercing new?" you asked, reaching up to brush your thumb over the small earring hugging the shell of jean's ear.

"yeah, got it for new year's. pretty hot, right?" you snorted, earning a grin from him, "by the way, if you need to use the bathroom just tell me, the one on the main floor is fucking filthy. and also probably has no toilet paper."

"will do." you could feel the tension ebbing away in his company, at least when you ignored the annoyed glances other girls were sending your way when they noticed his arm around you, "so, what's on the menu for tonight?"

"well, we probably have every kind of alcohol known to man," he said, leaning down to speak into your ear as he began to guide you through the crowded first floor, "beer kegs are out back, junk food and all the inexpensive shit is in the kitchen." he stopped at the opening to a hallway, smile evident in his voice. "but i'm feeling pretty generous tonight, so if you want some of the good stuff we have stashed, just say the word."

"wow, such a gentleman. do you say that to every girl that comes in?" you playfully replied, thankfully far enough away from the music now that you didn't have to talk at nearly a shout.

"only the ones i like." he added a terribly over-exaggerated wink, earning another small laugh from you, "so, what'll it be? vodka, tequila, or triple sec?"

you blinked up at him. "that's it? when you said 'good stuff', i imagined a little more variety."

"beggars can't be choosers, sweetheart. and anyways we're a frat, not a restaurant, so either take your pick or go enjoy some cheap wine while you watch nikolo and sasha drool over each other."

you rolled your eyes, feigning anger in the face of his attitude, huffing out your answer. "surprise me then, frat boy."

"good answer." he said with a grin, "wait here."

he disappeared down the hall, leaving you to stare in silence at the wall before you and listen to the barely muffled sounds of the party going on just a few meters away. you opened up your clutch to fish out your phone, opening it to find your text conversation still open, catching a glimpse of connie's name. you felt a little guilty that you'd almost forgotten about his expected presence, seeing as he had messaged you and you hadn't heard anything from sasha or jean yet. you decided to shoot him a quick text letting him know that you and sasha had arrived, not surprised when he didn't respond as quickly as he usually did, knowing that he was already wrapped up in getting high out of his mind somewhere here or doing so elsewhere.

you opted to kill time tapping through your feed, making it a point to quickly scroll past any posts with armin's handle attached to them. the thought of eren having fun halfway across the world was both pleasant and disheartening at the same time. you felt stupid for still clinging on to the second thoughts about ending things the second he got back. sure, all the dots connected suspiciously well to create a picture that led to the clear conclusion of cheating, but eren wasn't good at hiding things. you remembered the time in your junior year when he'd barely been able to keep your surprise party that your friends had organized you a secret before one of them slipped up about it and exonerated him from blame, and you couldn't help but ask yourself if he was really capable of hiding such a terrible deed when he couldn't even conceal the harmless types of secrets from you.

the more confrontational part of you said that that was ages ago, that both you and him had changed so much since your time in high school, and maybe one of those changes was what made him put so much distance between the two of you these last months rather than hang around you and risk airing out his dirty laundry. you knew you should be angry with him, you would be more than right to be angry with him, but you force yourself to stop clinging to the simpler times, the days when he'd look at you like you'd put the stars in the sky and said all he ever wanted to do was be around you. you couldn't believe how much had changed in so little time.

"ta-da!" jean's voice interrupted your self-pity, a tall plastic cup suddenly occupying your vision, "long island iced tea for the lady. with a straw."

"christ, jean, are you trying to kill me?" you guffawed, taking the cup from him anyways, "my first real party in months and this is what you start me off with?"

"at least give it a try! after i took all that time to make it for you.." he furrowed his brows at you, only relaxing after you took a tentative sip. it was surprisingly not as strong as you thought it would be, a little on the sweeter side, but it served as a good distraction for the burn of five different alcohols sliding down your throat. "pretty good, isn't it?"

"meh. five out of ten." you snarked, giggling around the straw between your lips.

"typical," he lamented, clutching his hands over his heart, "all you and sasha ever do is use me."

"don't lie to yourself, jean. you love us."

you didn't know if it was the dim lighting casting a shadow over his face, but you could swear that you saw his cheeks flush at your assertion. "anyways.. speaking of love, you still dating that asshole? eric?"

"eren." you corrected, laughing at the error, "and, well, it's complicated."

"complicated? then i'm assuming he fucked up big time, considering he's not even here with you this time around."

you took a long sip of your drink, fiddling with the bendy part of your straw, the thought of his infidelity weighing heavily on your heart. "well he'd probably be here if he wasn't out of town, he's been planning to take his trip for a while now.."

jean shot you a displeased look. "i seriously don't know how you put up with that guy, you're selling yourself short honestly. planning on breaking up with him anytime soon?"

you cast your gaze to the floor, thankful that the warmth of the alcohol in your stomach was helping to ease the cool hollowness settling deep into your chest. "oh hush. you don't even know the whole story, jean."

"well i know enough. if you're in the market for any new guys, i'll scout out someone nice for you." you scoffed at his offer, but didn't outright deny it either, unable to help smiling along with him when he smirked and nodded over to the party in the other room, "now, come play me in beer pong, then you'll really have something to complain about."

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

zeke could confidently say that his night had been utterly unremarkable.

another quiet day spent working at the library, where he'd actually glanced at the door more times than he was willing to admit with the hope that it would be you walking in. he'd actually been quite tempted to message you, to ask what you were doing, if you had anywhere between two and three so that maybe he could see you, but he'd ultimately decided against it. he couldn't quite figure out the exact cause of his newly-found infatuation with you, but the rationality of it didn't concern him as much as it probably should've, he was simply pleased to relive the very recent memories of your encounters together and anticipate your next meeting—at least until his younger brother returned.

eren had attempted to goad a reaction out of him with an assortment of unsavory texts calling him just about every name in the book, a constant stream of questions asking why he did it, or what he'd done to deserve such a thing, and even a few desperate pleas begging him to say that it wasn't really you. of course, he'd ignored all of them, and he wondered if eren was trying to contact you as well, knowing that you wouldn't be able to see the messages even if that was the case, though still curious nonetheless.

but for the moment, he was lounging at his usual downtown bar, seated in a booth beside reiner and across from porco at their rescheduled night out, since both marcel and porco were unable to make it yesterday, the latter sulking after his noisy attempt to flag down the waitress ended in failure.

"is marcel actually gonna make it tonight?" reiner asked, plucking a stick of celery from the appetizer platter in the middle of the table.

"no clue." porco replied, sipping his mojito, "said he got caught up at work again, so either the let down text is gonna come any minute now, or he's gonna show up for an hour and then disappear."

zeke chuckled. "post-marriage life sure is tough, i guess."

"you can say that again. he's always calling me, freaking about the idea of kids and his mortgage and stuff that i didn't even think about until he complained about it, scary shit."

"you say that like you're not two years away from being his age."

porco began what was sure to be one of his smart-ass replies, but the waitress had finally approached their booth, hiding her annoyance with his friend with a forced smile as she took the orders for their entrées. zeke pulled his phone from the back pocket of his jeans when he felt it buzz, feeling the slightest hint of disappointment by the fact that it wasn't you.

"who is it? your new girlfriend?" reiner grumbled, smirking when porco shot up in his seat.

"girlfriend?!" he exclaimed far too loudly.

"yup. zeke didn't tell you he's dating a high-schooler?"

so much for "your business", zeke thought to himself. "oh, fuck off. she's in college." he frowned at his roommate, only met with another tired expression of disappointment.

"just barely." reiner turned back to the man across the table, "it's one of his brother's ex-girlfriends too."

porco stared at him incredulously, eyes wide and judgmental, falling back against the cushion of the seat with a low whistle. "shit zeke.. that's kinda fucked up, don't you think?" he seemed uncomfortable by the unexpected revelation, "you're almost thirty and you're screwing around with someone who's probably not even twenty? is this an afraid-of-getting-old thing? mid-life crisis??"

"she's an adult, she can make her own choices." zeke didn't appreciate the sudden scrutiny, finishing off his old fashioned in the hopes that the bourbon would wash away the self-conscious feeling settling unpleasantly in his gut, "not my fault that her choice happens to be wanting to be around me rather than the guys her age."

"what ever happened to you and pieck? she's hot—"

"and actually over the legal drinking age."

both porco and zeke pointedly ignored reiner's interaction as the former continued. "—i thought it was working out between you two.. what happened?"

zeke shrugged. "just wasn't the right fit for me. but you liked her, didn't you? before we had our thing." he looked up at his friend, forcing a casual grin, "maybe you could give that shot now."

he felt a bit more at ease seeing porco's ears and cheeks flush red, now fiddling with the lime garnish on the rim of his glass. "we still talk here and there.. i don't really know much about what she's up to these days."

before he could answer with more words of encouragement that detracted from the previous, morally-incriminating topic, his phone began to vibrate, and he felt his heart leap into his throat at the sight of your name on the screen. "sorry, gotta take this."

he tugged on his jacket and slid out of the booth, ignoring reiner's chastising glance and porco's bewildered look, passing the waitress who was now carrying a platter with their food and refills on his way out. the cool night breeze was refreshing in comparison to the awkward, almost cramped atmosphere that had developed over their discussion, his breath coming is foggy puffs in the chilled, january air as he pressed the answer button. immediately upon raising the phone to his ear, he was met with a blurred assortment of background noise, able to discern the muffled sound of music and the sound of footsteps outside of whatever room you were in.

"hello?"

"oh, zeke, you answered!!" he could hear in your voice that you were clearly intoxicated, much more than you had been when you were at his house, words stringing together and ending syllables unnecessarily drawn out.

he felt uncharacteristically worried at the realization that you were at a party, one that sounded quite large and crowded, most likely crawling with unsavory individuals that he knew prowled around those sorts of events when he himself was in college. "are you alright? where are you right now? do you need me to pick you up?"

zeke was already digging around in his coat pocket to check if he had his keys, more than prepared to take off without his meal or saying goodbye to his friends inside. "'m at a party on campus, 's okay. in the bathroom. just thinking."

zeke didn't feel eased at all at the sound of loud knocking coming from somewhere, hearing you becoming distant for a moment as you presumably pulled the phone away from your ear to call out that the bathroom was occupied. there was shuffling on the other line, then silence for a short moment. "can i ask you something?"

zeke frowned. the idea of not being able to know who was monitoring you in this state wasn't sitting well with him. "go ahead."

"but don't call me stupid, ok? i already know it's a stupid question, but i still wanna ask it."

"there's no such thing as stupid questions." he assured you, ignoring the buzz of a text notification, most likely porco or reiner telling him to come back in before the burger he ordered got cold.

"do i really have to break up with eren?"

zeke felt something odd flicker in his chest, that unfamiliar feeling he'd felt when he caught you staring at you and his brother's one-sided chat logs, but yet the affirmative answer he thought he would be able to give with no problem sat on the tip of his tongue, undelivered. he thought back to that face reiner had made when he told him who you were, and porco's hesitant words trying to rationalize his actions but ultimately failing to do so.

zeke didn't understand why he felt so conflicted all of a sudden. this was meant to be a simple ordeal, one where he got what he needed to teach eren a lesson and moved on with his life. but now here he was, concerned about your whereabouts, focusing hard enough on your muddled words that he managed to catch the wobble in your voice that betrayed your own state of emotional unrest. he realized a moment too late that he hadn't said anything, hearing a small sniffle on your end before we began speaking.

"god, i can't believe i said that out loud, you must really think i'm dumb r'now, but.. i just can't let go of what we had." he was sure that you were crying now. "i keep thinking about what you said, an' you're right. he's been an ass to me, he practically ignored me for, like, three months, probably fuckin' cheated on me with his hot best friend, so i can't understand why i just wanna keep trying to fix things... and its so confusing 'cause everyone just keeps telling me to enjoy myself an' have fun, but i have no idea what i even want anymore, and i don't even know what we are right now and i can't fuckin' believe i cheated on my boyfriend with his fuckin' older brother and i don't know what i'd ever do if he found out."

by the end of it, you were letting out small, hiccuped sobs, breath fast and uneven just as it had been the night he'd invited you over. he honestly didn't know what to say, listening to you cry, staring at the steam of his breath as it dissipated out into the night. you were a good person, someone who was undeserving of such treatment from either him or eren, but it was simply an unfortunate coincidence that you had been caught in the fray.

he took a deep breath and gathered his thoughts, preparing to deliver an affirmation similar to the one he'd given you a few days ago when you first laid all your relationship troubles out on the table, but there was a rapid, more insistent knocking at the bathroom door on your end. he could hear a female voice calling out your name, and the jiggling of the door knob.

"hold on," you paused, sniffling, "it's my roommate."

you steadied yourself enough to say that, tossing the phone somewhere before he heard the sound of the door unlocking. "there you are!! are you seriously wasted already? it's only, like, eleven?! why are you crying???" your roommate sounded tipsy, but nowhere near as intoxicated as you currently were, which eased zeke's initial worry, "jean! can you c'mere for a sec! wait, were you calling someone?"

there was a brief pause, and zeke could practically see your tiny nod and teary eyes in his head, then heels clicking over tile and the sound of the phone being lifted, followed by a hurried, "hey, this is her roommate! she's fine, gotta go!"

then silence, just him and the faint noise coming from inside the bar behind him. he didn't know what to think. from the sounds of it, it seemed like your friends were taking care of you for the time being, friends who names he vaguely remembered you speaking of when you'd been detailing your time at the halloween party—people that were unfamiliar to him, people he wasn't sure that he could trust. and a small part of him, a tiny voice at the back of his head, scoffed at his flimsy mask of worry that barely hid the true emotion, his possessive nature, driving his desire to go pick you up and bring you back to the apartment to take care of so you'd have to be there with him another morning with your thankful gazes and blunt, half-awake words.

he knew he was in no place to begin laying judgement at these unknown people in your life considering what he'd done, but it was an innate sort of feeling, the thought that always clouded his mind when he laid eyes on people that were younger than him, that he knew more than them, that somehow he would always be above them in an invisible hierarchy. that same feeling that he felt when he found himself looking down at you.

"zeke?" a warm, friendly voice broke him out of his thoughts, his eyes turning up from the ground to find a tired-looking marcel standing before him, "what are you doing out here by yourself?"

"smoke break." the lie slipped between his lips before he even thought of the fact that there was no cigarette between his fingers, no scent of smoke in the air or clinging to his clothes, "glad you could make it, everyone's inside. pretty sure porco already ordered you something."

but instead of immediately heading inside for zeke to come after him, marcel stood for a moment, lips drawing back and eyebrows knitting into a concerned expression. "is everything okay?"

zeke thought for a moment, giving a non-committal shrug in response.

"still having family troubles?"

despite having been quite fixated on his negative feelings revolving his own younger brother for the last few days, zeke had almost pushed out a majority of the sordid details of the entire situation out of his head, which now seemed to all flood back with such a short, simple question.

"you could say that." zeke scratched the back of his neck, now wishing he'd actually had a cigarette to take his mind off of all these turbulent thoughts, "all the arguing and shit subsided already, but..."

"anything from your dad?" marcel's voice was almost tentative asking that, frowning when zeke said nothing, "sorry.. didn't mean to be insensitive about it."

"it's not insensitive. just," he swallowed, tucking his phone back into his pocket and reaching out to push open the bar door, a silent, less embarrassing way to signal that he no longer wanted to talk about it anymore, "just kind of fresh. that's all."

they both stood in silence for a moment, marcel's eyes wandering his face, features expressing a clear concern, but thankfully, he didn't push the issue any further, simply following him inside like zeke wished he would've done minutes earlier to save him the trouble, proceeding to the booth housing their friends. the conversation didn't wander back to the topic of him and his morally dubious relations nor his current familial situation, much to his relief, making it much easier for him to just allow the conversation to flow around him, finding himself not having much of an appetite or desire to speak much with so much on his mind.

for a moment, zeke wondered to himself if this was a punishment from the universe, feeling so downtrodden on what was usually one of his more enjoyable nights in the week. not to say that they were always amazing to be around, but spending time with porco, reiner, marcel, and sometimes bertholdt made up most of the meaningful social interactions he had, and to have lost out on it today of all days just seemed like some odd form of karmic justice as a result of him behaving so selfishly.

but he held out for the rest of the evening anyways, going through more drinks that he probably should've, finding easier to tune in to porco and reiner's usual bickering, marcel's attempts to quell them, the ambient sound of bustling waiters and clinking glasses and plates to bury down any thought of you or his family or what was to come at the end of the week, the consequences with much more magnitude in his life than an just an unpleasant night out.

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previous chapter⥽

[aphrodite-would-be-proud]

i adore everything you write especially erwin like he’s my number one and u write him so well i keep coming back<3 would love to hear your thoughts on the different types of dates he would take you on :)) ty and i hope you’re well !!

Omfg I really needed to hear this today :( thank you so much💛 you're too kind.

Im so happy to hear that I'm write Erwin i a good way! I've actually been thinking about his character a lot! My Erwin posts actually get the least notes bc he's just underappricated, tho imma make sure to write him more from now on just for you 🥰

I actually really liked this request idea so imma split it in two part bc i don't wanna make a long post

Type of dates with Erwin PT.1 {pt.2 in masterlist}

{ Erwin x reader | tw: none | fluff, romance | modern }

{ "La Lettura" 1873 by Antonio Mancini 1852 - 1930 }

Ideal dates : these are dates he plans up ahead, makes sure they go smoothly and you're both are having fun. He really looks forward to these dates, they're like an event for him. He saves them up for important occasions like your anniversary, valentine's day, birthday, etc.

1. Romantic dinner by candle lights: he's a sucker for classics and romance cliches. Once a month or so, when you're both free. He'd make a reservation at a fancy restaurant, a secluded table with multiple candles and a nice view of the night sky waiting for you.

You'd both dress us, he'd be a gentleman all the way and open the doors for you, tell you how precious you look while kissing your hand. Maybe even a bouquet of fresh flowers if he's feeling extra.

The night would be spent quietly, talking while drinking wine as your food is getting ready. You two could talk together forever and not get bored, he also could listen to you talk about your passions all day.

At dessert time, he slowly falls in love with you again when you offer him a piece of yours, he'll gladly eat it off your fork. You hold hands under the table and he circles his thumb against yours.

When going home, he'd wrap his arm around your waist, your head on his shoulder. It's the perfect night.

2. Picnic near the lake at sunset, ends with stargazing: this usually takes place in spring or summer, maybe even autumn. When the weather is just perfect and the sky is just clear enough. You both prepare a basket before hand, he wears a light blue shirt to match his eyes.

You arrive around lunch time, having picked a nice place under a tree to shield you from the sun. The sound of children playing in the distance quieting down as time goes on. You both prepared each other's favourite food before hand.

It's around sunset when he wraps the blanket you bought with you around you, the wind having picked up. He kisses your forehead before pulling you closer to his side. You watch the sunset together as the ducks in the lake swim lazily around.

When it's completely dark, is when you finally lay down together, facing the sky. You point to a certain formation and he tangles his fingers with yours before guiding them to the next, he knows a lot about the stars. He shows you the fading ones who's only remains are ghosts of their pasts, he also shows you the newly formed ones who's light is just reaching us.

With your head on his chest, his calm deep voice talking about the stars and the warmth the blanket is offering, you fall asleep.

You wake up in the passenger seat on the ride home, glancing to the side you can see him driving with a smile on his face, he looks happy, relaxed even. You go back to sleep.

3. Going to see a musical together: it's one of the dates he really looks forward too, he's actually a huge musicals nerd but only his close friends know that. So what's better than mixing his favourite thing to watch with his favourite person? You!

He knows the tickets are expensive but he promises you it's worth the inconvenience, so you book two seats online.

When you arrive, you sit next to each other while the room is slowly getting filled. You can hear the actors getting ready off-stage but can't make out what they're saying. Erwin is next to you looking through the play flyer they gave and explaining the story to you.

That day, is the most day you've seen Erwin laugh from the depth of his heart. He'd look at you each time something really funny happens. Squeeze your hand a bit whenever an intense scene is happening. Bring your hand against his lips for a second when a romantic scene is happening.

He's just fully emerged into it. When you see the shine in his eyes, the way his lips curl up just a bit, is when you realise how beautiful Musicals are.

It becames a habit to visit one each year on his birthday.

4. Go to a museum or an art gallery: one thing you've learned from being with Erwin, is that he can turn the most boring things interesting. He just has a way with words and a matching deep voice to go with it, he could read the ingredients on the back of a shampoo bottle and you'd still listen.

Naturally, it was just a matter of time before one of you suggested visiting a museum. You pick a day when not a lot of people would be there.

He makes it fun, interesting and actually educational. You've been walking peacefully in long corridors with paintings and other forms of art displayed around each corner. He seems to have endless knowledge about each piece, telling you both a secret funny fact about it and a base knowledge.

The perfect tour guide, he encourages you to participate and even guess information based on the art and how it makes you feel. He smiles whenever you get something right and chuckles when you don't, it's a win-win situation.

5. Horseback riding: this one happens whenever you visit his parents who retired in the country side, they're really lovely people and seem to genuinely like you. Not to mention how Erwin just shows you off proudly to his parents like you're made out of pure gold.

It's a quiet small town that makes you forget about the city, the air is refreshing and the people are kind, the patries are delicious and the baker is kind. You two could get lost walking near fields of flowers for hours.

He assures you that you have all the time to try everything else, for now he's excited to show you something he's been doing since he was a kid.

The people at the stable seem to recognise him, even the horses are kinder to him than you. You're a bit jealous you won't lie, but he just guides through befriending a certain white horse with braids in it's hair. You even manage to feed them some sugar cubes.

You've underestimate just how tall a horse is, so now when faced with the option to ride on its back you almost back away. Meanwhile Erwin looks really natural and comfortable just getting on one, is this the same man who didn't know you could turn your phone screen sideways till you showed him?

So you end up sharing a horse, he wraps your hands around his waist and tells you to trust him, it will be okay. And just when a glimmer of hope rises in your heart that maybe this isn't as scary as you thought, that man somehow makes the horse go so fast it almost rivals the speed of sound, at least in your mind it did.

It's the most fun and adventures date so far, your heart is pumping by the end of the day as adrenaline runs through your veins. You're both panting and he seems like a kid on Christmas.

Thankfully his parents somehow foresaw this happening and prepared dinner for both of you while apologising for their son. Soon enough, they arm you with enough embarrassing childhood stories about Erwin for later use.

6. Visiting historical spots: it's something his father suggested to you both while you're getting the car ready to drive home. Soon enough you were discussing it while on the road and both of you seemed to be on-board.

It's an actually entirely different experience to see these places in person than in photos in school history books. Everything is so much bigger than you expected, so much older and all the details.

You can see all the different angles just by walking around, both of you seem to be entranced at just how strangely alluring it is to see this great build and know it's more than 500 years old, even Erwin seems to be lost for words for once.

The memories you made, the silly photos you took, the places you held hand and kissed in. It's all was just so lovely. And so it becomes a yearly tradition that you both save up for.