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d3add0vedonoteat · 4 months

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Chicken Soup for Carmy

⚠️ Content Warning ⚠️ harsh language, sexism and violence in one scene (not from Carmy). Hurt/comfort, fluff.

A/N: I’m literally feral for this man. I’m sick atm and I started thinking about taking care of Carmy while I was making chicken soup. Bonus combo with Carmy protecting you from an asshole customer. Not proofread bc my brain is rotting. Plz be nice this is my first time posting a fic 🥺

It was cold. You braced yourself against the harsh Chicago wind as you made your way briskly down the street. After a late night phone call from your brother sent you into a spiral, you couldn’t sleep. You’d been tossing and turning all night until finally, at 4am, you flung off the covers and got dressed. It wasn’t a surprise that you’d come here. This place consumed all your mind and your heart since you started working here a few months ago. You used your key to unlock the door in the alley, sighing with relief as the warmth of The Beef welcomed you inside. It was quiet, the lights were down, it was peaceful. You slipped off your sneakers trading in your kitchen clogs and tucked your things safely away in your locker. You tied your handkerchief on your head as you moved. It was so comforting, the routine of The Beef’s prep work. You felt so at home, moving from the prep area to the walk in, diligently beginning the tasks that didn’t need to be started for a few more hours. He would understand. You thought to yourself as you began to prepare fresh stock for the day. He was a man after your own heart, your boss, Carmen Berzatto.

Avoidant, chaotically emotional, one wrong thing away from a complete meltdown, that you both disguised as workaholic tendencies. As you finely chopped onions, your mind quieted. Everything was shut out except for the task at hand. Your brother’s angry voice on the phone accusing you: “you never come home! You don’t even care about us! You can’t take come take care of your own mother?!” was drowned out by the rhythmic pound of your knife on the cutting board. You were in the zone.

Until a voice startled you out of your bubble. “Chef?” You jolted, looking up at the man before you. Carmy’s hair was messier than usual, the bags under his eyes were deeper and more purple. His lips were parted with each soft breath he took. He gave you a quizzical look. “What are you doing here?”

“I uh-” your mouth felt dry and you tripped over your words, as usual when he set those intense blue eyes on you. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Carmy nodded, not pushing you any further. All he said before moving toward the office was a simple: “Heard, Chef.”

You watched him go, noticing the slump of his shoulders and the labor of his normally spry step. There was no mistaking it, Carmen was sick. You stared at the office door for a long moment before you made up your mind.

You set a heavy bottomed pot on the stove with some olive oil. Your hands moved with well practiced efficiency as you chopped garlic and onions, celery and carrots. The garlic and onions went in first. Then the celery. A sprig of thyme and a dash of white wine. While that simmered you quickly seared some chicken breast and chopped it into perfectly bite sized pieces. All into the pot with chicken stock and water, tightly covered to develop the flavors. Next came the pasta. You cracked eggs into the well of flour, mixing and kneading until it became a smooth golden dough. You carefully, tenderly rolled the dough and cut it into thick, short noodles. A bath in hot water to cook, then they too joined the pot. In no time at all, you were ladling a generous portion into a bowl. You set a toasted piece of chibatta on the side, grabbed a spoon, and took a deep breath in an attempt to settle your nerves. Softly, you knocked on the office door.

“Yeah?” His voice responded.

“Chef?” You entered, nervous. Words failing you as they so often did in his presence, you set the bowl before him. Carmy’s eyes widened. The aroma made his mouth water. He looked to you, gaze softening. “You made me chicken soup?”

Your cheeks grew warm. “Y-yeah, I mean chicken soup always makes me feel better when I’m sick.”

Carmy couldn’t believe you. You noticed? He smiled at you. You were so beautiful. You were always so confident and sure on the line, delegating with efficiency, respect, and authority. He had hired you the second you stepped into The Beef. Your resume was impressive but there was something in the way you carried yourself that truly earned the golden reputation you had in the culinary industry. But you were different with him, in the occasional moments like this where it was just you and him. Shy, almost bashful, gentle, and soft. He loved it. He wanted more of it. He lifted the spoon, bringing a bite to his lips.

“Gotta get a little of everything.” You muttered, eagerly awaiting his response.

Carmy shot you a sideways smile. It was good. No, it was better than good. The warm broth slid down his throat and each bite exploded with a depth of flavor he couldn’t believe. It was pure comfort. It reminded him of being a little kid staying home sick from school. Curled up on the couch while Jerry Springer played, eating crackers and ginger ale until his mom would bring a bowl of chicken noodle soup. But this soup, your soup, was more than that. People always talk about cooking with love but he swore he could taste it. Each ingredient had been so carefully handled. Perfectly chopped vegetables, moist and flavorful chicken. The warm feeling in his chest grew as he inspected the bowl.

“Did uh, did you make this pasta fresh?” He asked, eyeing you.

“Yeah, it’s better that way.” You blushed.

“Thank you, chef.” He said. “It’s really, really good.” Carmy looked down, suddenly feeling heavy. The fear of closeness set into him and all he could think about was how he’d fuck this up. “You-you didn’t have to make this for me.”

“Oh, it’s okay!” You insisted. “It was no big deal.” You began to leave, giving him one last truthful smile. “I like taking care of you.”

“I like taking care of you.” Your words rattled through Carmy’s mind all day. Throughout all of lunch, prep, and dinner he couldn’t stop thinking about what you’d said. The soup you had made was the first thing he’d eaten in too long. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had cooked for him and you’d just done it because you noticed he wasn’t feeling well. No motive, no games, just tender love and concern.

Love.

Carmy shook his head to try and shake the thought from his mind. No, no, no there was no way you actually cared about him. Not like that. You were just being nice.

That’s just who you are; nice. You were always so kind. The way you’d help Marcus workshop pastries, the way you’d make Tina laugh and listen to her talk about whatever trouble Louis had gotten in, how you’d encourage Sydney and remind her that she can do this. Even the way you’d throw snark right back at Richie or how’d you’d always set aside a portion of Family for Fak and Sugar, even Pete. You were always thinking of others. Carmy wasn’t special.

Yeah. Not special.

Carmy insisted the thought as he scrubbed the grill. Not special. Not special. Not special.

“Carmy?” There you were. You were always there. You had a thick denim jacket on, bag on your shoulder, knit beanie pulled down over your hair. Your brow furrowed at the sight of him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Carmy shook his head. “I’m fine… you uh- you heading out?”

You shrugged, hoisting your bag a little higher on your shoulder and eyeing him skeptically. “Yeah. Are you?”

“Yeah, in a bit.”

You chuckled, more exasperated than humorous. “No.”

“What?” Carmy asked, confused.

“No, you’re leaving too.” You insisted. You were feeling bold. Months of long looks and his hand on your lower back every time he passed you had culminated tonight.

You had taken over the front for Richie while he ducked out to take a call from his daughter. You’d insisted. It was slammed for dinner but everything was going fairly smooth until an irate customer approached you.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” He’d asked, slamming his plate onto the counter.

“Excuse me?”

“I mean are you retarded or something?” He continued. You were stunned into silence. You had never had anyone speak to you like that. “How hard is it to make a fucking sandwich? I know your tits are bigger than your brain but Jesus fucking Christ it’s not hard!”

“I-I…” you were shaking. “I’m sorry that you’re not satisfied, sir. If you like, we can-”

“Not satisfied?!” He screamed. “How can I be satisfied with this piece of shit!”

He hurled the sandwich at you. It hit you in the chest, toppings and sauce splattering everywhere. Before you even knew what was happening, a blur of messy curls shot past you. Carmy launched over the counter, tackling the man. His fist collided with the man’s face over and over while Richie and Fak rushed after him. There was a cacophony of yells as Richie pulled Carmy back. “Get your girl!” Richie yelled. “Cousin! Go get your girl!”

Fak and Richie dragged the man out and threw him into the street. Carmy’s hands grasped your cheeks.

“Hey, hey, are you okay?” He wiped the sauce splatters from your brow. “Look at me.”

Carmy burned with anger as he watched you shake. Your white shirt and blue apron were covered in the sandwich. He imagined what you would do for him if he was in your position. How you’d care for him, how you’d tend to him… so he tried to do what you would. Gently he guided you to your feet and wrapped his arm around your waist. He practically carried you to his office where he sat you on the couch and quickly went to grab a clean shirt from his own locker. You were in the same place he left you when he returned. Carmy knelt before you, taking your face in his hands once more.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay.” Tears welled in your eyes and you collapsed into his arms. He smoothed his hand over you back, repeating “it’s okay” over and over again. He felt like he was on fire. The feeling of you clinging to him, nuzzling your face into his neck, the smell of you, how you fit in his arms… it was too much. He wanted to run away and never speak to you again. He wanted to wake up next to you every morning for the rest of his life. He wanted to scream. He wanted to feel your lips against his. He wanted to find the piece of shit that yelled at you and rip him to pieces. He wanted your chicken soup every time he was sick.

All those feelings were closing in on Carmy once again as he stared at you across the kitchen. You still had his t shirt on. You were looking at him expectantly.

“Sorry, uh… what did you say?” Carmy’s voice was softer than he expected.

“I said I’ll walk home with you.”

“Oh, no that’s okay. Ive got to-“

“Carmy,” you stepped closer. Your voice was firm but so tender. “You need to get some rest. Come on, I won’t take no for an answer.”

He couldn’t help but smile back at you. “Alright…” he conceded.

The two of you braced yourselves against the cold and hurried down the sidewalk side by side. You argued about who would walk who home. Carmy insisted on walking you to your apartment but you protested on the grounds that he’d just go back to the restaurant once he dropped you off.

“Fine,” you gave in. “But you have to call me when you get to your place so I know you made it home!”

Carmy looked at the ground, smiling. The warmth in his chest from your soup was steadily turning into a molten pool of lava.

“Heard.” He grinned. You wanted to know he’d made it home. You wanted to make sure he rested. I like taking care of you.

“Well, I’m just up here.” Your voice stopped his thoughts from spiraling before it could even start. Carmy’s brow furrowed. “What?” You asked, puzzled by his sudden change in demeanor.

“You live over there?”

“Yeah? Like a block down?”

There was a beat of silence before Carmy let out a breathy laugh. “I live right there.” He pointed to the building on the other side of the street.

“No shit!” You laughed in earnest. Your hand came to rest on his arm. “Guess I’m gonna be walking you home more often.”

Carmy’s entire body was on fire. He could imagine the tingle of your soft hand on his skin through all the layers of clothing. He wanted to hold you close again like in his office, but this time you wouldn’t be crying. A deep pit opened in his stomach. How long before he made you cry? How long before he fucked it all up? Until you hated him and quit the restaurant and everything fell apart because he-

“Hey,” your voice. Always your voice that brought him back. When he looked over at you it was like everything but your face faded into a blurry background. You were all Carmy could see. “Do you want to come to mine? I haven’t eaten and I KNOW you haven’t either.”

Carmy’s heart fluttered. “O-okay.” He started, his confidence rising when he noticed your hand was still in his arm. “Only if you let me cook you something.”

“Ooh,” you smiled. “I’d never turn that down!”

Carmy chuckled, feeling lighter for the first time in years as he walked so close beside you that your shoulders brushed. “It won’t be as good as your chicken soup.”

#the bear #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #carmy x you #carmy x fem!reader #hurt/comfort #sickfic #carmen berzatto fluff

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my-castles-crumbling · 3 months

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scent - @jegulus-microfic - word count: 229

It didn't matter.

Or, that was what Regulus told himself as he waved his wand, silencing the alarm.

It wasn't like he cared.

It was just that he'd blackmailed Sirius with several embarrassing stories from their youth in order to get the flat to themselves that night, and now he was buggering the whole thing up with his abysmal cooking skills. Curse Walburga for deciding that cooking was beneath her and never teaching either of her sons.

He waved his wand again, trying to clear the air, not wanting James to enter the space and smell the scent of-

"Reg? Is that smoke?" James's voice called down the hall.

Suddenly, Regulus felt like crying. "Yeah, it's...It's already put out."

James walked in and took in the scene around him- the blackened pan on the counter with charred chunks stuck on, the smoke still hazy in the air, Regulus seating slightly and probably looking rather hellish.

"I....wanted to cook for you," Regulus offered, looking down and grimacing. "For our anniversary. It was stupid, I-"

James pulled him into a huge hug and then inspected the lump on the pan. "It's perfect, love. Is it....it's chicken? I'm sure we can still scrape off the burnt parts and eat it!"

At this, Regulus burst out laughing. "James....it was supposed to be soup."

They ordered a pizza that night.

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wlntrsldler · 2 months

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poisoned mercury | delicate

friend group shenanigans | set after pink skies | series masterlist

song: delicate by taylor swift

“good morning,” you yawned, rubbing your eyes as you exited your room. travis was taking up the entire couch, doubled over in pain. “woah, what happened to you?”

“food poisoning,” he replied, wincing. he had a blanket draped over him, acting like he was on his deathbed.

connor walked in with a bowl of chicken soup for his brother, rolling his eyes as he shoved travis’ feet off the couch to have somewhere to sit, “and whose fault is that?”

clarisse was sitting next to chris on the love seat, shaking her head, “told you not to get a hot dog from the gas station.”

“rookie mistake, babe,” chris chimed in, “whenever you tell trav not to do something, he does it. it’s in his dna.”

“connor shares the same dna as him and he’s not like that,” you called out from the kitchen, making yourself a bowl of cereal. the dining hall was already closed for breakfast since you woke up so late, thanks to the boy who was still passed out on your bed.

you couldn’t remember the last time you slept so well. you felt bad for leaving him alone, sleep in your room but your stomach was growling and if you didn't get some food in your system soon, you were bound to catch an attitude.

“that’s because i got the brains between the two of us,” connor joked, scoffing, “i let him borrow some brain cells once in a while.”

“fuck you guys,” travis complained, sitting up. “i’m dying here and you’re making fun of me?!”

you walked out into the living room, pulling one of the bar stools to sit closer to the group. your eyes darted to the screen in front of you, internally cheering at the familiar scene. they were watching barbie. the five of you watched in silence, letting out little laughs at the jokes, until the door of your room opened.

luke walked out, half-asleep, and made his way over to you. he kissed your lips, mumbling, “g’mornin, five star.”

“mornin’, pretty boy,” you squeezed the arm he wrapped around your waist. he sent you a lazy smile, nuzzling his face in your neck before disappearing into his bedroom. you turned your attention back to the screen, shoving a spoonful of fruit loops in your mouth, “oh, i love this part!”

when you were the only one who burst out laughing at ken’s “sublime!” you turned to look at your friends, wondering why none of them were laughing. they were staring at you with wide-eyes, jaws ajar. their eyes were bright, lips breaking out into teasing smiles. oh. oh.

“castellan get your ass in here, now!”

luke walked out of his room with his eyebrows furrowed, confused as to why chris was screaming his name like bloody fucking murder at 12 pm on a sunday. surely, he hadn’t done anything wrong yet– he just woke up! he put his glasses on, finally able to see the looks on everyone’s faces, including your red cheeks and sheepish smile.

luke didn’t even realize what he did until that moment. it just felt natural for him to greet you good morning, like he always did anyway, but it’s just sweeter this time around because he’s allowed to kiss you now, at least he thinks he’s allowed to. he was a little butthurt that he woke up alone on your bed this morning so when he walked out and was only able to make out your silhouette, he didn’t think twice before placing a chaste kiss on your lips. he got a taste of what it was like to kiss you and he couldn’t help himself to do it again.

he thinks now, though, that perhaps he should’ve thought twice because there was no way your friends would let the two of you leave until you explained. luke’s face paled at the sight of his friends. were you mad at him for kissing you in front of people? if his head wasn't spinning with all the negative thoughts he was having, he would see your face and understand that you were happy your friends knew about the two of you.

clarisse clicked on the remote to pause the movie, “soooo… seems like we skipped a few chapters.”

“more like we finally got to the next chapter,” travis snorted, earning a smack on the back of his head from connor. the older stoll hissed, “don’t act like y’all weren’t tired of their pining.”

chris rolled his eyes, eyes darting between you and luke. he was trying to fight the smile threatening to show on his features, “so care to enlighten us, guys?”

"luke?"

luke's head snapped to the sound of your voice, pulling him out of his head. you had an arm outstretched, beckoning him over to where you stood. it made luke feel giddy inside as he trotted over to you, finding comfort in standing behind you and placing his chin on top of your head. he swung an arm around you, hoping that you wouldn't see the thumbs-up he sent to the boys.

"yeaaaaahhhh castellan's got the girl!"

"oh my god," you whispered, turning around to bury your head in luke's chest. you were blushing furiously at the cheers from your friends. you think you might've even heard travis complaining about losing a bet to connor. clarisse and chris were babbling about how double dates would be fun, though clar mentioned that luke and chris would end up third and fourth-wheeling the two of you more than anything. "our friends are crazy."

the arm he had wrapped around you pulled you in tighter. you felt the rumbling of his chest, "they are."

"you guys are so fucking cute," clarisse said, a hand over her heart. "y/n, he finally made a move!"

you turned back around to face clarisse and the group, "actually i made the move!"

luke scoffed, "you did not. i kissed you."

"i asked you to come in last night."

"yeah i believe, y/n," connor piped in, shrugging. "luke was not gonna make a move."

clarisse gasped, placing a hand on chris' bicep, "we should compare notes."

your eyes widened, "do not compare notes."

"wait, what do you mean notes?" luke asked quizzically. "was five star talking about me?"

"clarisse i will never forgive you if you tell him anything."

"i'm not gonna tell him directly," she hummed, lacing her fingers with chris', "but if i told my boyfriend who happens to be his best friend and he tells luke, then, technically, i haven't done anything wrong."

"y/n, i assure you, you should not be embarrassed," travis said, snickering. it was luke's turn to panic. "whatever you said to clarisse about lover boy here, i'm sure it can't be any worse than what he's said about you to us over the last two months."

chris cleared his throat, putting on his best luke impression, "five star is so pretty. i don't think i've ever seen anyone so beautiful."

"five star is so funny. i can listen to her talk about anything for hours." this was travis.

"oh, luke where were you today? we haven't seen you all day," connor said in his regular voice before deepening his voice a tad bit to match luke's, "oh, i was hanging out with five star and we accidentally fell asleep by the lake."

"not to mention the dozens of songs he wrote about you," chris teased, "thanks for inspiring the second album, but bro was like alexander hamilton writing those songs."

luke whined, tugging on his hood to cover his face, "guys, stoppp."

"oh my god, y/n, you should see his tweets."

"do not show her my tweets!"

you burst out in laughter, getting up from your seat. you wrapped your arms around luke and he took the opportunity to hide his face in the crook of your neck. you could feel the heat on his cheeks against your skin. you played with the hair on the nape of his neck, "all right, guys, enough."

"can we go back to your room?" luke whispered in your ear, lips grazing the shell of your ear.

"mhm," you couldn't deny him of anything if you tried, "come on, pretty boy."

you couldn't help but laugh and throw up the middle finger to your friends as they called out jokes and kissing noises as you and luke went off. it was funny, really, how they all knew there was something between you and luke before the two of you did. it was nice to know that your friends were supportive, regardless of how annoying they would be now that you and luke were together.

luke collapsed on his side of your bed, unable to wipe the dopey smile on his face. you sat on his lap, leaning over to press kisses on his cheeks, "just so we're clear, i wanna see the tweets. and hear the songs."

"well you can't ask me that while you're sitting on top of me because i'll fold."

you giggled, kissing his lips passionately. his hands gripped your waist as he sat up, getting in a more comfortable position, "that's the point, castellan."

luke pinched your side, chuckling when you squealed, "you're evil."

"uh huh," you mumbled, "you know we're never gonna catch a break with our friends now right?"

"honestly, i haven't caught a break from the boys since i met you," he admitted, "but at least i get to kiss you now, so it's really a win."

you couldn't agree more.

#frances writes #poisoned mercury #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson

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baubarbz · 8 days

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HOMECOMING

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summary : taking care of aaron after a long day of work

pairings : aaron hotchner x reader

warning : kissing , spelling or grammar maybe ??

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You heard the door open, and immediately grabbed the remote to turn of the TV. Aaron, your husband, walked in, his eyes exhausted, his shoulders slumped in fatigue. You knew he'd had a long day at the bureau, dealing with the weight of the world. His usual confident stride was replaced with a slow trudge, and his eyes lacked their usual sparkle.

"Hey, welcome home," you said, trying to inject some energy into your voice as you walked over to him. You wrapped your arms around his waist, feeling the tension in his body.

"Hey honey, sorry I'm late. It was a long day," he replied, his voice low and weary. He hugged you back, but his usual enthusiasm was missing.

You guided him to the couch, where you'd already set up a comforting scene: soft music played in the background, candles flickered on the coffee table, and a warm blanket was draped over the armrest. You'd even brewed his favorite coffee, and the aroma filled the room.

"Come on, let's get you comfortable," you said, helping him out of his jacket and tie. As soon as he reached the couch, Aaron flopped back onto the pillows, letting his head sink into the softness.

You quickly grabbed his legs and propped them up on your lap, helping him get comfortable."Let me get your shoes off," you said, gently tugging at the laces.

He lifted his feet, and you carefully removed his shoes, revealing his tired, aching, socked feet. You began to rub his feet, using gentle circular motions to ease the tension. Aaron closed his eyes, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he relaxed into your touch.

"Feels so good," he murmured, his voice filled with gratitude.

You continued to rub his feet, working out the knots and kinks. As you did, you asked gentle questions about his day, listening to his responses.

You knew he didn't want to burden you with the details, but sometimes talking about it helped him unwind.

As you worked on his feet, you could feel the tension melting away, his body relaxing into your care. You knew this was what he needed – a safe haven, a place to let his guard down and just be.

"It was a case from hell," he said, his voice strained. "A kidnapping, and we barely made it in time. The parents...they were so scared, and the kid...she was so brave."

You listened attentively, your heart aching for the families involved and for the toll it took on your husband. You knew he carried the weight of every case on his shoulders, and it was your job to help him shed that burden at the end of the day.

After a while, you suggested a warm bath, and he nodded gratefully. You helped him up, leading him to the bathroom, where you'd already prepared the perfect temperature and added some soothing essential oils.

You helped him undress and sink into the warm water. He tilted his head back, resting it against the cool surface of the tub, letting out a low sigh.

You sat beside him, stroking his hair, and he reached out, taking your hand in his. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice filled with gratitude. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'll never have to find out," you replied, your heart full of love and devotion. You squeezed his hand, feeling his fingers tighten around yours. You pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose and stood up, making your way to the kitchen, leaving him to have a little privacy.

As he soaked, you prepared a simple but nourishing dinner – his favorite chicken soup with crusty bread. When he emerged from the bath, you helped him into a cozy pair of pajamas and settled him onto the couch with a warm bowl of soup.

As he finished up, setting his now empty bowl on the small coffee table in front of you, you sat beside him, holding his hand, and leaning against his broad shoulder, his eyes closing in relaxation. You knew that this was what marriage was all about – supporting each other through the ups and downs, being a safe haven in the chaos of life.

"I'm so proud of you, Aaron," you said, your voice filled with admiration. "You're an amazing agent, and an even better husband and father."

He smiled, opening his eyes to meet yours as he leaned in, kissing you softly. “I love you" you whispered, your heart full of love and devotion.

As you sat there together, you knew that you were exactly where you were meant to be – taking care of your exhausted husband, your partner in every sense of the word. And in that moment, you felt grateful for the life you'd built together, and the love that sustained you both through the darkest of times.

“I love you too” he whispered back.

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dede speaks ! :

i love aaron sm <33

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #the bau #ssa aaron hotchner #ssa aaron hotchner x reader #bau x reader

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morehotch · 8 months

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[7:23 AM]

aaron x gn + bau! reader, reader taking care of sick aaron

you knew when jack caught a stomach bug from school last week that inevitably either you or aaron would get sick afterwards. but you were especially worried about aaron; he already rarely lets himself rest or slow down. he's stubborn and even though you both saw his early symptoms of fatigue and headaches, aaron ignored it and pushed through for a few days as you both focused on taking care of jack.

but this morning, when he wakes up groggy and sweaty after being restless all night and it’s official; your incredibly lovely but intense and determined and dedicated husband was sick.

you thought it went without saying aaron now needed- deserved, some old fashioned tlc and chicken noodle soup. but you should’ve known better, you walk into the bathroom and catch aaron attempting to button up his white collared shirt, turning to look for a tie, trying to get ready for work.

he looks pale and the dark circles under his eyes make you walk quickly into the closet, standing between him and his impressively large tie collection.

"no," you say sternly, still with a small pout.

"honey," aaron says weakly with a sigh and you shake your head, now equally determined as your husband.

"honey," you repeat, “please, you're sick. you need to take care of yourself."

as expected, aaron looks incredibly unconvinced as you cross your arms over your chest, "you would never let me go into work like this, why can't you give yourself the same care and compassion?" you run a hand up and down his arm, hating how warm his skin felt.

he frowns, eyebrows furrowed like he's trying to think of a rebuttal but you continue, “i'll take jack to school and call the team. we both can stay home.”

aaron’s frown only deepens, “no, no don't stay home because of me."

"you would do the same for me,” you argue, knowing aaron would immediately call out of work at the slightest aliment you faced; proven by a few months ago when you sprained your ankle and aaron insisted on you propping your leg up in bed and waiting on you, tenderly nursing your not very injured leg back to health.

you smile at the memory as you hear the soft footsteps of jack. "daddy," he calls, wandering into your room, poking his head into the bathroom.

aaron smiles immediately at the site of his son in his adorable dinosaur pajamas- his recent obsession and your most recent purchase. jack finally felt better after a few days of you, aaron, and jess took turns to care for him.

"i'm sorry i got you sick," he mumbles sadly, struggling to wrap his arms gently around aaron's legs.

he looks down, running a hand gently through jack’s bed head, "oh buddy, this isn't your fault.“

“the mean stomach bug just found a way into our house, but we're going to get rid of him,” you promise and jack giggles at your explanation before running off to get ready for school, excited with your promise of discussing dinosaurs with you in the car on the way there.

by now, aaron seems to have accepted his not so bad fate of being taken care of by you today as he slowly unbuttons his collared shirt, turning to find a simple t-shirt.

“can we at least video conference in at some point?” he sighs and you laugh knowingly, considering aaron, you decide that's a pretty good comrpomise.

“deal,” you smile, coming into the closet, hugging him from behind and kissing his bare shoulder gently. “go back to bed,” you murmur, “i’ll be back soon.”

when you come back from dropping jack off, you find case files perched precariously on his nightstand and aaron back in his pajamas, flipping through crime scene photos for your current case.

you place your sick day essentials on your nightstand; a bottle of gatorade, mutiple medicines, and a thermometer- that when you run it over aaron's forehead, reads a considerably high fever.

"no crime scene photos allowed when you have a fever, new house rule," you smile at aaron’s small pout, trading the gruesome photos for some tylenol.

you settle back into bed with him after calling penelope and explaining the situation, passing the phone over and letting aaron weakly give an agenda for today.

you kiss his forehead, running your hand through his hair that's getting a little longer- to your own secret excitement. you get comfortable, and instead of settling in your usual spot with your back against your chest; you pull aaron gently into your own, throwing an arm across his waist, rubbing up and down soothingly.

"you're gonna get sick," he murmurs but you smile into the crook of his neck. "worth it,” you whisper, “i love taking care of you.”

after lunch, he finally falls asleep as you hold him loosely, finally looking relaxed and peaceful.

when you have to leave to get jack from school and he’s still sleeping, you decide to let him sleep and not wake him up. aaron rarely gets enough sleep, ever. you think he definitely deserves this.

however, that means the afternoon video conference that aaron mentioned to an unconvinced penelope doesn’t happen.

but aaron doesn’t wake up mad, blinking as he discovers jack nestled in his side, grinning when he realizes his dad is awake, thrusting a bright get well card he made at school today into his hands.

aaron handles it with such care as he turns to look for you, smiling when you walk into your bedroom.

“sorry i didn’t wake you up for that afternoon meeting, you looked so comfortable,” you explain sheepishly and aaron only shrugs, tugging a giggling jack into his arms.

“oh yeah, don’t worry honey, i didn’t feel up to that anyway,” he smiles and you can’t help your immediate grin as aaron continues with so much sincerity that even after so many years together he still makes your cheeks flush, “thanks for encouraging me today, thank you for being you, baby.”

#aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner fic

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the-kr8tor · 11 months

Text

Hobie nurses you back to health.

Feat: the cats

Pairing: Hobie Brown x f!reader / Spider-Punk x f!reader

Word count: 2.2k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, fluff, description of sickness, established relationship.

My Masterlist

A continuation of this fic but you don't need to read it to understand this one.

*I don't consent to having my work translated/ published on other platforms*

Carefully swinging from building to building, Hobie clutches the fragile bag in his hand, careful not to spill a drop of the precious chicken soup from your favourite deli.

Before he left for patrol in the morning, you already felt the sickness crawling in your throat, so much so you didn't kiss Hobie goodbye that morning, in case you got him sick. He didn't want to leave you alone at first, but you insisted that it's probably just hay fever. And you're not alone, you've got your three little gremlins with you to keep you company.

You know that the city needed Spider-Punk more than you needed your boyfriend. That's why Hobie's so adamant in taking care of you now that his patrol is over, and all seems to be quiet around the city. All his attention is now on you, and making you better.

Hobie finally reaches your flat, he perches himself on your fire escape, peeking through your dimly lit bedroom, he sees your folded form buried under a mountain of blankets. Your air purifier puffs out clouds directly at your contorted face. He hates seeing you like this, he should've taken a break in his patrol, if it weren't for this week's villain, he would've had the time to check up on you.

He feels bad leaving you alone in this state.

Hobie opens your window, a gust of much needed fresh air enters your room, an orange glow hits your face directly.

You groan in your bed when the late afternoon sun shines directly at your sensitive eyes; shielding yourself from the light, you turn around lifting the heavy blankets over your head.

Hobie lifts his mask over his head "Hey, I bought you chicken soup" he softly says in case your ears are also sensitive.

" 'm not hungry" your voice muffled by the blankets over your face.

Hobie looks at the discarded bottle of medicine, empty packets of paracetamol, and a moist rag next to your bed. But no dirty plates or glass near you, you haven't eaten anything since he left.

Hobie sits down next to you, before he settles down, he hears a hiss on top of your body.

Crowley opens his bright emerald eyes, the only thing that Hobie sees of the cat; with the dark blankets and dimly lit room, Crowley's fur perfectly camouflages on top of you. The little dark void stands up as if he's challenging Hobie.

"Oi, we're on the same side, I'm gonna take care of her" Hobie scolds the hell spawn.

Your arm reaches out of the mountain of blankets to pet Crowley, calming him down.

Hobie grabs the end of the blanket, pulling it down to see your face. He touches your forehead lightly to feel your temperature. You're hot, dangerously so, even with his glove he still feels the warmth.

"Fuck lovey, you're burning up" Hobie's voice echoes with concern.

"Hmm?" You look at him with your half lidded eyes. "Hey baby, when'd you get here?" You're delirious, you feel like your mouth's full of cotton, hot air comes out of your nose.

"Shit, we need to lower your temperature" he leaves the soup on top of your side table, tissues and bottles fall on the floor to make room for the warm soup.

He leaves briefly to go to your bathroom, filling up your bathtub with cold water. Crowley makes biscuits on your blanket covered chest.

Hobie comes back, seeing the scene in front of him he stops for a moment to take a mental picture of it. He rushes to you flipping your blankets away from you, Hobie sees in his peripheral that Crowley moved away before getting smacked in the face. That's definitely gonna bite him back, literally and figuratively. He'll apologize to him later, right now he needs to get you to your bathtub ASAP.

When the blankets are pulled away from you, a chill runs through you, a second later heat rushes throughout your body. You feel hot and cold at the same time. The fever clouds your mind; you mumble in Hobie's chest as he carries you.

Hobie carefully sits you down on the edge of the tub, he crouches down next to you with a wet rug in his hand. You can hear the loud rush of water behind you.

"Hnng" You cover your sensitive ears, Hobie sees your reaction, he quickly shuts off the tap, concern on his face.

He carefully holds your chin up so you're facing him. "This is gonna be cold, I'm sorry" he dabs the cloth on your forehead, testing your reaction.

You instinctively flinch away from the cold, "oww" Your joints cry out in pain, every muscle in your body protests against the cold rag. But you don't flinch away when he lays the cold rag against your collarbone.

"That's it, lovey, taking it like a champ"

Hobie opens a couple of buttons on your pajama shirt so he could wipe your chest. He hears a mewl from behind him, Crowley sits elegantly on your countertop, eyes judging Hobie.

Hobie looks over his shoulder, "yeah, yeah I'm being careful" He talks to your cat like he understands his meows.

Crowley answers with a louder meow "Yes, I will wipe behind her bloody ears, d' you think you could do any better?" Hobie raises the rag towards Crowley.

Crowley scrunches his nose at the rag, "I didn't think so" Hobie squares off with your cat, Hobie continues to carefully wipe your arms as Crowley stares daggers at his back.

You stare at Hobie curiously, in your state you have no idea if you're just imagining your boyfriend having an argument with your cat.

You hold on to Hobie's strong shoulder, getting his attention. "Are you fighting with Crowley?" You tilt your head questioningly.

Hobie smiles that you're finally aware of your surroundings, "There's my girl," he pecks your sweaty forehead. "He's being a little shit, that's why"

Your eyes widen "you can understand him?! Is that part of your spidey powers?" You shake his shoulder weakly.

"Love," He pinches the bridge of his nose "I don't even know how to answer that" he squeezes out the excess water from the rag to trickle down on your head.

"Ack! Hobie!" You glare daggers at him, mimicking what Crowley might look like behind him.

"Just a little bit of water," he wipes little droplets off your eye lids with his thumb. "How do you feel? Better, yeah?"

You drop your head on his shoulder with a thud, "tired" you sigh, snuggling further into the crook of his neck.

Hobie hugs you, he kisses the side of your head affectionately, rubbing your back he feels your fever sweat through your thin pajama shirt.

You cringe when you feel him tugging up at your drenched shirt, "I'm sorry, I'm such a mess" your voice vibrates against Hobie's skin.

"Don't be, this is nothing compared to what I've seen 'round pubs" he cradles your head, moving stray hairs away from your tacky skin. "I need to change you out of those clothes, yeah?"

"If you wanted to rip my clothes off, you should have said so" you teasingly said with your hoarse voice.

Hobie chuckles at your sense of humor, despite your sickness. "When you're better, I'll do just that"

Lifting your head away from his shoulder, you stare at him lovingly "I better get… better then" fumbling over your words. You give him your sickenly sweet smile.

After a change of clothes, a much needed toothbrush and change of linens; Hobie guides you back to bed, with Crowley following closely behind.

"Good, the soup's still hot"

Recognizing the packaging of the soup, you instantly perk up "Is that from Tom's deli?"

"Yeah, you should have seen old Tom's face when I came in as Spider-Punk" he sits down next to you as you prop yourself up to a sitting position.

"Did he look giddy?" You make grabbing hands towards the tupperware. You feel a little bit better, still feverish though.

"Giddy as a school girl, he even asked for a bloody selfie" Hobie opens the lid, the familiar savory smell wafts through your room, relaxing your muscles.

You giggle at the mental image, "did he get it? The picture with you?"

"Yeah, in exchange he didn't let me pay for it, even though I was shoving him money"

You imagine the entire interaction between the two, both being stubborn as they are, you would pay money to see it.

Hobie takes a spoonful of the soup, blowing on it carefully before he feeds it to you. You don't protest, even though you feel good enough to feed yourself. Hobie's being so sweet and sensitive you let it slide this time.

You haven't seen this side of him before, sure he's always sweet on you, but this? He's been so attentive to your needs and your pain, you can't help but love him even more. You never heard a single complaint or scolding for making him take care of you, just for that you're already thankful for. You feel his love shine through with every caress, and concerned look.

As you swallow the soup, you can't help when a sob breaks through, fat tears slide down your cheeks.

"Shit, was it still hot?" Crowley loudly meows at Hobie, as if to say: what did you do now? Hobie ignores the cat. "Love, are you okay? Where are you hurting?"

You shake your head, "nothing hurts, it's silly, I'm sorry" you wipe your tears with your sleeves as you avoid eye contact.

Hobie puts down the bowl on the nightstand to carefully cup your tear stained cheeks. "Hey, it's not silly, please tell me. Y'know you can tell me anything" his heart hurts with every tear you let out, "if you're not ready to tell me it's okay, just know I'm here, yeah?"

You finally look at him with a brave face, you exhale and finally let it go "I love you" you feel heat behind your eyes, the fever's crawling up again. "So much Hobie Brown, and it's not the fever talking. It's okay if you don't say it back, just wanted you to know"

Saying it loudly for the first time turns your arms and legs into jelly, the three words send shivers down your spine. And yet you stare at him directly, waiting for his reaction.

He feels slightly offended at your last comment, how dare you think he doesn't love you enough to not say it back to you. "You're a bloody idiot"

Your face falls, before you could think of the worst, he kisses you suddenly, it's messy and fast, your teeth clashing with his, you feel his lip ring against your lips. Pulling away first, breathlessness clings to you, if it wasn't for the flu affecting your lungs you would've lasted longer.

Hobie holds your face tenderly "Fuck you for ever thinking that I won't say it back," He swipes at the beads of sweat on your forehead, "Because I've said it a hundred times in my head. I love you" he kisses your tacky cheeks, "I love you," he pecks your nose, you chuckle at his kisses. "I love you," he kisses the corner of your eye "I love you, so fucking much" he confesses.

You let out a sigh of relief, holding the back of his neck as you guide him towards your shoulder, hugging him tightly you feel the roughness of his suit. He sighs into your hug, he feels a heavy weight lifted off his shoulders. You wish you could hold him in your arms forever, protected and loved.

The other two cats trudge in your room nonchalantly. Hobie feels eyes on his back, he cranes his neck to look at Crowley.

Crowley stares at Hobie, he moves his tail from side to side before he curls against himself. While Crumpet and Teacup jump over to your nightstand to smell your soup.

"He's warming up to you" you sniff while caressing his cheek.

"He watched over you, while I was gone. Can't say the same thing to those two though" Hobie moves his head towards the couple sniffing at your food. "Oi bloody leeches, couldn't even bother watching over your sick mum, huh"

Teacup jumps at Hobie's raised voice, while Crumpet's paw wipes at her face. Hobie translates that action to being ashamed from his scolding.

"Yeah, you better be ashamed" Hobie glares at the two cats.

"Stop picking fights with them" you giggle.

He reluctantly pulls away from your warmth, "they deserve a scolding" Hobie grabs the bowl again "now let's get you up and running again, yeah?"

You nod, grinning ear to ear.

—

A few weeks later, with Hobie's help you're finally strong enough to go jogging again. After your run, you head towards Tom's deli to grab your usual. To your surprise, you see Spider-Punk and Tom's picture above the stove, Hobie holding your soup in his hand while his free arm hangs over Tom's shoulders,Tom widely smiles making a peace sign. Tom sees you staring at the picture, he skips over to you, telling the story behind the picture while he shows it off, pride coating his voice. Your smile gets bigger with every wild gesture he makes.

A/n: hope you liked it! And yes Crowley is named after Neil Gaiman's Crowley. As always likes and reblogs are appreciated ❤️❤️❤️

*picture above is from pinterest*

#hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #spider punk #atsv fanfiction #spider man across the spider verse #x reader #hobie brown x fem!reader #spider punk x fem!reader #atsv x reader #hobie brown #hobie brown x you #spider punk x you #the kr8tor's creations #established relationship #fanfic #spiderman across the spiderverse

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thatfandomslut · 2 months

Text

I Will Always Take Care of You

Regina George x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Trigger Warnings: cursing, descriptions of being sick (flu symptoms like vomiting, coughing, fatigue, etc.)

Request:

Valentine's / Followers Celebration Request; Regina George w/ quote 33 and piece of chocolate 4. Or; “You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love… I love… I love you.” w/ sick

Valentine's / Followers Celebration requests are closed.

(Y/n) wasn't sure what to expect when her girlfriend called, begging her to come over because she was sick. Typically, (Y/n) could be categorized as extremely germophobic. However, when it came to Regina, she found herself speeding over and hesitating as she entered her home with a mask, gloves, and Lysol. Maybe it was a bit extreme, but she couldn't help the fact she hated being sick or receiving germs herself. Entering Regina's room, it didn't seem like the blonde minded. Instead, she cheered happily while being visibly loopy. Her nose was red and a bit chapped, her trash can (and around her trash can) was full of tissues.

She began to feel a bit guilty about all of the preventative measures she was going through to not get sick before Regina began to blow her nose. (Y/n) withheld her cringe, knowing the feeling all too well before she got to work. She replaced Regina's trash can, got her more tissues, and then got her a warm washcloth for her forehead. "Here you go, baby," (Y/n) placed the washcloth onto Regina's forehead, gently tossing away for gloves so she could cup Regina's cheeks softly. "Do you want me to make you soup?" She questioned softly, and Regina nodded sleepily.

Despite the mask, (Y/n) placed a gentle kiss on Regina's forehead, walking out to prepare some chicken noodle soup for her flu and her soul. Her mother always said that she made the best chicken noodle soup. (Y/n) checked to see what she was working with and was happy to know that the majority of ingredients were in attendance as she began to prep her soup. She would often take breaks to check on Regina, who was taking a nap. Which is what (Y/n) wanted. Regina looked exhausted, even more so when she was asleep. When the soup was done, she prepared a bowl for Regina and walked up the stairs.

Unfortunately, she found Regina's bed to be empty, but the sounds of retching are what helped guide (Y/n) to her girlfriend's whereabouts. She placed the bowl down on Regina's nightstand, placing napkins underneath it to prevent a ring from forming. As she entered the restroom, she gently helped Regina get the hair out of her face, tying it in the scrunchie (Y/n) saw on the counter. Once Regina had finished vomiting, she leaned back into (Y/n), trying to reach for her water bottle. (Y/n) grabbed it for her wiping the hair from her clammy forehead.

"I'm sorry that I called you here. I know how you are with germs. I'm grateful you came, though." There was a scratchiness to Regina's voice, tears still brimming her eyes delicately. (Y/n) wiped a stray tear and Regina's forehead fell against her shoulder gently. (Y/n) was about to speak as she wrapped her arms around Regina, but the girl in front of her beat her to it. "Thank you for coming, babe. Thank you for coming to take care of me."

(Y/n) pulled away, lowering the mask a bit to kiss Regina's forehead and then cheek. "Baby, I will always take care of you. Now, let's get you to your bed. If you're still up for it, I did make you that soup." (Y/n) helped Regina to bed, helping her eat her soup as Pride and Prejudice played in the background. "Oh! This is my favorite scene. 'You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love… I love… I love you, Regina.'" (Y/n) quoted easily, adding in Regina's name playfully, making Regina smile a bit at how cute (Y/n) was. It really warmed her heart that (Y/n) came, despite being such a germophobe.

In fact, a little giggle escaped her lips (that she had to pass off as nothing) when she thought of when (Y/n) and she went to the mall and she refused to ride the escalator because she didn't feel safe since she refused to hold onto the railing. Regina swore she had never walked up and down so many flights of stairs. Regina began to feel sleepy again after she finished the soup. "You are magic," she whispered softly. "I love you, too, (Y/n). I'm so lucky to have someone as caring as you in my life." The sleep in her voice was evident but she forced her eyes to stay open.

"Baby, if you're tired, you should go to sleep. You're not going to heal properly if you don't get enough rest." She had been caught red-handed. But she knew (Y/n) was right. (Y/n) placed the bowl to the side, moving the sheets beside Regina. The action surprised Regina thoroughly, but she didn't reject the cuddle advance. Instead, she took (Y/n)'s invitation and allowed herself to be held. She bit back a soft smile, thinking about how far they've grown as a couple. "Goodnight, my love. I'll be here when you wake up. If not in your bed, I'll be cleaning up."

The thought of (Y/n) leaving their cuddle session while she was sick almost made her emotional. That was mostly due to how crappy she felt though. "Please don't get up to clean. We can do it in the morning. Just stay here with me. You can put on whatever movie you want, but you're so warm and I'm so cold. All I want right now is to be in your arms." Regina all but whined, pouting softly against (Y/n)'s neck, in which she was buried in the crook of.

(Y/n) smiled softly, rubbing her back. "Okay, my love, I'll stay." She assured Regina, singing softly to help lull her girlfriend to sleep. She knew she had achieved this when she heard Regina's breathing grow a bit heavier. She couldn't help but feel her eyelids grow heavier at the comforting sound of her girlfriend's breathing. It wasn't long before (Y/n) joined in on the nap, not caring that she was breaking all of her mental rules of germaphobia. She had braved her fear just for Regina, wanting to make sure she was comfortable through the discomforts of having the flu.

#regina george x reader #regina george #mean girls x reader #mean girls

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bragginball-z · 8 months

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Obsessed with the fact that Ed is trying to suppress his feelings for Stede by acting like he’s over him. Im on my hands and knees PRAYING that we get a scene where he acts all nonchalant about Stede being there and then someone hits on Stede in front of him and Ed just absolutely LOSES HIS MIND

I need to see Ed shove him against a wall and make out with him all sloppy

THAT would be chicken soup for the soul my friends

#fanfic authors I’m begging y’all #our flag means death #ofmd #our flag means gay #ed ofmd #ofmd stede #edward teach #our flag means death season 2 #our flag means death s2 #ofmd edward teach #ofmd stede bonnet #blackbeard #blackbonnet #gentlebeard

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beingjellybeans · 1 year

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Indulge in delicious comfort food at Borro Manila

During the pre-pandemic era, the Tomas Morato and Scout areas in Quezon City have the distinction of being local foodie havens. In these relatively quiet and mostly residential areas have popped up a diverse collection of dining choices offering a wide array of cuisines. While the pandemic and its resulting lockdowns have slowed down this once vibrant food scene, it has slowly but surely shown…

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honnelander · 7 months

Note

I CAME AS SOON AS I SAW THE POST

can we get a little snippet of go fish!reader maybe reading Pride and Prejudice aloud to Zoro after he had been struck down by Mihawk, like how Nami did, and Sanji over hearing and just staying by the door to listen to her read or something? i think a little blurb like that would be so cute

AHHH CUUUUTE!! i modified this a bit to have it fit into the overall story's timeline. instead of Zoro being struck down by Mihawk, he's sick and bedridden. thank you for this :))

here's go fish!Sanji listening to you reading:

masterlist

"Ohhh Zoro," you quietly squealed, trying your best to keep your voice down from disturbing a very ill and bedridden Zoro from waking. "Are you ready for this? Oh my god, this is another one of my favorite parts," you gushed, sighing dreamily as you put your very loved and well-worn copy of Pride and Prejudice on your lap before hurriedly picking it up again to continue reading aloud to your friend in his room.

"I'm in love with you, most ardently," you read, voice quiet enough and full of wistfulness.

As you continued to read the story, your voice going up and down in excitement as you read the scene aloud, Sanji could hear your quiet gushing from the hallway. He was carrying a small tray of food, two bowls of his special homemade chicken soup sitting right in the middle, one for Zoro and another for you since he knew you'd spent all afternoon reading to the sick swordsman and figured you must be hungry by this point as well.

With careful steps, he silently stood right behind the doorway as he listened to your soothing voice bring the words that were printed on the page of your favorite book to life with a small smile on his face. The blonde cook closed his eyes for a minute, letting the sound of your voice wash over him as he admired you without you ever knowing.

He leaned his shoulder on the doorframe right outside of Zoro's room, gently resting the side of his head against it as well, as his mind wandered for a second, getting lost in the story.

Apparently, it was the part in the story where Mr. Darcy was confessing his love to Elizabeth, but as he listened further, he realized that it wasn't the end of the story where they both confessed their feelings mutually, it was more in the beginning where Mr. Darcy's sentiments were one-sided and Sanji couldn't help but feel a sort of kinship with the fictional man.

While the situation he was in with you wasn't as dramatic as Jane Austen's creation (if there even was a 'situation', he thought dejectedly), the feelings he had for you were certainly real and very complicated.

Was he in love with you? He wasn't entirely sure, but he did like you, much more than a friend should. He had feelings that he only had for you, and no one else. Sure, he's come to love the rest of the crew and Nami too, but none of them could make him feel the things that he only seemed to experience with you.

Suddenly, he wondered how he would confess these sentiments to you one day. Would he pull a Mr. Darcy and just walk into your room one night, spilling out his heart's desires for you in a single breath because if he didn't, he might not have the courage to tell you otherwise? Telling you the thoughts that consistently plagued his mind, trying to sort them out aloud in front of you because they were driving him mad like poor Mr. Darcy? Or would he plan something out and take his time? Wait until he understood what he felt because he 'wanted to get it right'?

Sanji didn't know, it was too soon to tell... but what he did know was that if he stood out there loitering any longer, the soup would get cold and the chef in him would rather die than serve you something like that.

Coincidently, it seemed like the chapter had just ended, you letting out a lighthearted sigh as you softly commented to Zoro, "Ok Zoro, now wasn't that chapter just... extraordinary?"

"It certainly was, Missus," Sanji commented cheekily, suppressing a smile as best he could as he walked into the room.

"Oh! Sanji!" you gasped as your hand quickly covered your racing heart. "Jeez, you scared me." You watched as Sanji placed the tray of soups onto the nightstand. "Sorry. I, uh, didn't realize I was reading so loudly I attracted an audience," you said, your cheeks heating up slightly at the thought that Sanji had been listening to you for who knows how long.

"'Sorry'?" Sanji repeated, a slight frown on his face momentarily as looked down at the tray, glancing at you over his shoulder. "There's nothing to be sorry for, my love." Once the tray was secured on the nightstand, he fully turned to face you, his hands in his pockets as he put on his most charming smile. "Now," he started smoothly, "I'm starting to think that maybe I should get sick so you can come and read to me in bed all day."

Sanji's smile only grew as he watched your face become even more flushed at his words.

You laughed slightly, eyes darting away from his as you asked, "Don't you mean when you're bedridden?"

There was a long pause, the silence becoming deafening at your question. You could feel the tension in the room become thicker the longer that Sanji stayed quiet. Your hands started to feel slightly clammy as your heart rate picked up.

You swallowed. "You know, instead of 'in bed'... since you'd be sick and everything?" you asked finally, as you mustered up the courage to look back up at Sanji from your chair.

At his expression, your heart skipped a beat. Sanji was still looking at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief (and sincerity?) and another emotion you didn't understand, a soft smile on his face. You couldn't help but feel like Sanji knew what he said and that he had said it on purpose.

His crooked smile only deepened. "Sure," he agreed simply. "When I'm sick and ill, and completely bedridden." He blinked, inhaling a small breath as he looked down at his shoes for a moment before looking back up at you, a small questioning look in his eyes as he quietly asked, "And you'd do that? Come and read to me all day?"

"Of course," you answered without hesitation, frowning slightly at Sanji believing that you wouldn't do for even a moment. "I would do anything to help you feel better, Sanji."

Now, between the two of you, it was pretty obvious that Sanji was the smooth-talking flirt, with you never really outrightly flirting with him in the conventional sense, but wow, you might as well be labeled the biggest flirt in his mind because your kind, thoughtful words and gestures never failed to make his heart flutter and knees go weak.

And the way you would look at him, time and time again, whenever you would gently reassure him that yes, you did indeed care about him and that you never truly forgot him... it was enough for him to feel his heart nearly explode.

There it was again, your kind, thoughtful, and beautiful expression on full display for him as you looked up at him through your lashes.

And just like that, Sanji's fears were completely washed away.

He let out a slight laugh, turning his face to the side, his blonde bangs facing you to try and hide the very faint blush on his cheeks. "Aw, you're too kind to me, Missus." He looked back at you, his rosy glow fading slightly, however, his smile was still bright. "Thank you."

At seeing Sanji happy, you were happy. You returned his smile and with a slight teasing tone you said, "But I'll only read to you if you promise to read to me when I'm in bed, sick and completely bedridden."

The blonde chef laughed lightly again, partly because of your now little inside joke, but because the thought that you even had to ask him if he 'would ever do that for you' was completely absurd. Of course he would. He would've been reading to you from the moment you were awake and not feeling well, all the way until you were sleeping, and even then he would continue to recite the pages of the book you loved aloud while you slept, so your dreams and subconscious mind were filled with the sound of his voice well into the night.

Sanji would do anything for you. And you never even needed to ask.

But he didn't tell you all that, not wanting to freak you out with his intense train of thought, so he simply said, with a small smile and twinkle in his eye, "Consider it done."

From Sanji's right, the sound of bedsheets rustling caught both of your attention.

Zoro groaned, gingerly opening his eyes as he pulled his blanket closer to himself. "Ugh... waiter? What are you doing here?"

Sanji looked down at him, a hint of concern on his pretty features as he replied, "Ah, Mosshead, you're awake. I, uh, thought I'd do a little room service and bring some soup for you and y/n."

At hearing your name, Zoro opened his eyes again. "Y/n?" He slowly turned his head towards you. "What are you-" he started to ask but when he saw the book on your lap he groaned and covered his eyes with the crook of his elbow. "Oh don't tell me- you've been reading that garbage to me while I was sleeping this whole time?"

But you weren't offended by his question. Instead, you laughed. "If you mean masterpiece then, yes. You're right. I had just gotten to the good part too!"

Zoro shifted in his bunk, getting comfortable. "Well, by all means, keep going," he deadpanned. In a more sincere tone he said, "I haven't slept this good in a while." But then, with a ghost of a smile, he added, "Your book is so boring it puts me right to sleep."

"Hey, a win is a win," you laughed joyfully. You looked up at Sanji for a second, wanting to share your little moment of happiness of Zoro wanting to continue reading with him.

But Sanji was already looking at you, eyebrows raised in surprise and a disbelieving closed-lipped smile on his face. His smile only grew at seeing the happiness you radiated, his eyes scanning over your face. "Well, in that case," he started as he made his way towards the door. "Let me excuse myself then. I wouldn't want to get in the way of your storytime, Mr. Mosshead."

As Sanji left the room and stepped out into the hall, he could hear you giggle at his 'Mr. Darcy' joke while Zoro grumbled, a sweet sense of satisfaction coming over him.

But before he went back to the kitchen to start on tonight's dinner prep, he loitered outside of Zoro's room again, leaning against the doorframe like he did moments earlier, out of view, so could listen to you read once more for a bit, a small, wistful smile on his face.

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incorrectbatfam · 1 year

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Tim and Jason headcanons 👀

One morning during breakfast Tim keeps excusing himself to go to the bathroom to fix his boxers because they must've stretched in the wash. Meanwhile, Jason can barely move and waddles into the kitchen like he has a rubber band around his legs. Imagine the horror when they connect the dots and realize their underwear got swapped

One day Tim's room suddenly starts to smell like tomatoes and he tears it apart trying to find the source. Turns out Jason put soup in the humidifier

Jason: *gives Tim an iced coffee*

Tim: "You put salt in it"

Jason: "No I didn't"

Tim: "I can literally see the crystals"

Jason: "What crystals?"

Tim: "Right there, all settled at the bottom"

Jason: "That's how the coffee is"

Tim still owes Jason for the time Jason stopped him from faceplanting in Alfred the cat's litter box

Contrary to how it appears, Jason's hair is thicker. It's so thick that Tim accidentally drops a glob of mayonnaise in it and Jason doesn't notice until he combs his hair hours later

They get bunk beds on a mission. Tim gets the top bunk after losing rock-paper-scissors. While he's asleep, Jason moves the ladder to the other side

Jason puts a cockroach on Tim's desk thinking he'll freak out. Tim, who's on his third day without sleep, looks Jason dead in the eye and eats it

As a kid, Jason often re-wore dirty clothes until he absolutely had to go to the laundromat meanwhile Tim washed his more frequently in small batches so he wouldn't get told off for having a huge pile. Cut to the present day where Tim's sifting through a mountain of Jason's laundry for a pair of socks and Jason is offering zero help whatsoever

They stand out in the rain to see who gets drenched first. It's usually Tim—he absorbs water like a paper towel. Jason then gets in trouble because Tim could've gotten sick ("Thanks, Bruce, not like I'm soaked to the bone too")

And when Tim gets sick, he refuses to take his meds unless someone sneaks it into his food. Finally, Jason has a use for the NyQuil Chicken TikTok

Jason drives three hours from an out-of-state safehouse to hide in Tim's closet and scare him. Little does he know, Tim is in the closet at the safehouse, waiting to pounce on Jason

Jason peels a pride sticker off a villain's car and gives it to Tim

Jason mixes all the Goldfish crackers into a dough and bakes them into a single giant Goldfish. Why? 'Cause he can, and Tim needs something to test his new food pic filters on

In March their patrols end by meeting at McDonald's for Shamrock Shakes

Tim prank calls Jason and convinces him he's lost in Metropolis. Eight hours, countless Bizarro flights, and two unfortunate geese encounters later, Jason storms into the Batcave while Tim simply grins and asks, "What'd you think of my new VPN?"

Tim and Jason find a wheelbarrow at a crime scene and keep it after the case is closed because it's a free wheelbarrow. This happens twice more and now they have enough for a family wheelbarrow race

Bruce makes them spend more time together, so Jason decides to teach Tim the Three-Card Monty. Tim just nods along because he doesn't know how say that he already learned it by watching the second Robin out-con a conman

Jason wakes Tim up one morning by chucking a feather duster at him, saying Alfred wants everything clean. So Tim gathers all the dust in his room and dumps it on Jason's bed before going back to sleep

The Ferris wheel has a clear "no food" policy but Tim doesn't listen and sneaks a chili dog anyway. Jason's in the seat below him, and it's the second time something falls in his hair without him noticing

Jason: "Red Robin, do you read me?"

Tim: "Affirmative. What do you need?"

Jason: "Pick a different gargoyle. That one's mine"

Tim: "I don't see your name on it"

Jason: "Check the underside"

Tim: "It just says Robin, so technically it's both of ours"

At one of Jason's safehouses there's a mysterious bucket in the corner of the living room. No one but Tim knows what it's for

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