#x sick baby reader

[hyperfixatedoncrimminalminds]

Emily Prentiss x Baby Daughter Reader

Summary: 3 year old Y/N is sick so Mama Emily calls on two people to help her look after her sick child.

Third person pov...

Loud crying wakes up Emily Prentiss, the black haired woman, jumps up form her bed gun in hand, the crying was coming from the room her kid was is, yawning the Mother tucks her gun into her waist band.

She then makes her way out of her room and to the room next to hers, she turns on the night light by the door before walking up to the crib in the middle of the room, the woman does a quick look around before bending down nad picking up the crying child.

"Shh Shh your okay, your okay N/N it's me it's mama" she whispers to the child. Y/N had snot running down her face, so Emily grabbed a tissue and whiped her face, but the snot keep coming which made the child cry even more.

Emily holds the child to her hip and rubs a hand up and down her back trying to calm the three year old down, soon Y/N was only sniffling slightly.

Thw three year old was sucking her thumb with her had leaning against Emily's bare shoudler, she now realised she was only wearing a tank top and short knowonder she felt cold.

"Whats wrong N/N can you tell Mama?" Emily asks the baby in her arms, Y/N shakes her head and cuddles closer into her Mama still sniffling. "head hurt" came the mumbled croaky voice of Y/N.

Emily frowns, "oh no poor baby" she coos as Y/N cuddles more into her,  Y/N is only this cuddly when she isn't feeling well, Emily touches her hand to Y/N forehead, it felt a littler warm, Emily looked closer and saw a red ting to Y/Ns cheeks.

"No need for the hospital yet" mumbles Emily, she then lifts YN head up and listens to her breathing. "Sounds a little chesty" Emily was at a loss at what she should do.

The woman stands rocking Y/N for a minute before remembering who else has kids. "Of course Hotch and JJ" she exclaims grabbing her phone from her room and bringing up her contacts.

She paused, who should she call JJ or Hotch, both have kids ans both should know how to help. She then looks at the baby in her arms.

"Who should I call Y/N?" She asks thr three year old, the E/C eyed baby looks up at her Mama and coughs loudly before she starts bawling again.

Emily comforts her  "Ohhh ohh shhh shhh it's okay N/N, your okay" she whispers kissing her daughters head lovingly, she then clicks on JJs contact, she then put the phone on speaker and waited for JJ to pick up.

As she waited Emily looked at the clock on her desk, it read 3.30am "sorry JJ" she mumbles realising JJ would be a sleep still, then finally said Blonde woman answered the phone. "Emily is everything okay?" came JJs worried voice through the phone.

Emily then grabbed it and held it up to her face. "Hey Jen, sorry for calling so late, its Y/N i think shes ill but im not sure what to do" explained the black haired woman, silence is hear before JJ starts laughting.

"baby troubles, thats what you called me for" laughed the blonde making Emily blush. "well it was either you or Hotch because you both have kids" pouted the Black haired woman as JJs laughter died down.

"okay, so Y/Ns ill, have you checked her forehead for a fever?"

"yep done that she did feel a little warm, also she has quite chesty coughs as well and she complained of a headache. im not sure what to do JJ" whines Emily, she was clueless and hopfully JJ might be able to help her.

"okay okay i get it, Have you given her any medicine?" askes JJ

Emily face palms internal, the one thing she didnt think to give her 3 year old. "no i havent done that it didnt even cross my mind" confessed Emily, she was greeted with JJ laughing at her misery. 

"of course, its natural you're a first time parent, it takes time to learn to be calm during these kinds of situations" JJ says, Emily begins walking to the bathroom to get some nedicine for Y/N. 

"yeah thanks for the help JJ"

"of course Em, good night"

"night Jen" 

Emily then ends the call and puts her phone in her pocket and uses one hand to riffle through the medicine cabinet. she soon finds some paracetamol, she then grabs the right amount for a three year old, the then went to the kitchen and filled a cup of water for Y/N.

Emily then pried her arms away from her neck so she could sit on the counter and have the medicine, Emily crushed the tablets into half and gave them to Y/N, the baby whines but swallows them.

once she was done Emily whiped Y/Ns nose again and picked her up. "hopefully that will help your head ache N/N" she mutters before walking back upstairs and into her room knowing Y/N will want to sleep with her.

once they were both under the covers Emily made sure Y/N was breathing before falling asleep, herself. It was only an hour later she was once again woken up to crying, the mother bouced awake and turned around to see Y/N bawling her eyes out once again.

Emily then sits up with Y/N in her arms, Emilys tired to comfort her but nothing will work. "what should i do, i cant call JJ again" mumbled Emily before groaning the only other person she could call would be her Boss.

She looked down at her still crying child and gave in for Y/Ns sake, she turned on her phone and clicked on Hothes number, Emily rubs Y/Ns back comfortingly as the girl cries and coughs, it breaks Emilys heart.

A few rings later and Hotch answers. "Prentiss? is everything okay" he asks as Emily shhhes Y/N. "Hey Hotch sorry for calling so late i jsut really need some advice" she yelled over the crying.

she could practically see Hotch raising an eyebrow. "of course that that would be?" he askes

"Children advice, pacifically when they are ill" she say, Hotch goes silent before he speaks. "it Y/N okay?" he asks worried about the baby.

"thats the thing Hotch, i don't know whats wrong with her, she has a small fever, she complained of a headache, shes coughing alot, runny nose, possible sore thraot" says Emily listening of Y/Ns sy,toms. 

"sounds like she has a cold to me Prentiss" says Hotch

"of course the most simplest thing and it went completely over my head, sorry to bother you with this Hotch" Says Emily now she felt bad waking him up for a cold.

she hears Hotch laugh slightly over the phone "its all okay Prentiss i understand, first time parent is hard especially when your child is sick, you could make a honey and lemon water for her to sooth the sore throat" said the man.

Emily thought about it. "sounds like a good idea, thanks Hotch sorry again" says Emily before ending the call, she looks down at the child who finally stopped crying and fell asleep in her arms.

"finally" she whispers before deciding to stay in her positions she didnt want to wakw up Y/N again.

the end!

i hope you liked this ineshot! and as usual so sorry for the grammar and spelling mistakes.

requests are open!

word count: 1235

[peachsukii]

I wholeheartedly believe that Bakugo never calls off of work when he’s sick, and he’s stubborn as hell about it. He could be hacking up a lung, running a fever, sneezing every other minute and still haul his ass to work.

When Bakugo’s an intern/sidekick fresh out of UA at his first agency, his mentor demands he goes home to rest the one or two times a year he’s too sick to function.

“Dynamight, go home. You’re not at your best, go sleep it off. One day isn’t gonna kill ya to make sure you’re in top shape.”

The first time it happens when you’re together is both comical and frustrating. Bakugo devolves from a twenty something and into the equivalent of the child who refuses to drink the grape flavored medicine, claiming he doesn’t need “artificial shit” to feel better. In the same breath, he’s physically sweating buckets and can’t go without coughing for more than a few minutes at a time.

You have to force him to take a hot shower, standing in the bathroom with him to be sure he doesn't pass out. He complains the whole time, but Bakugo doesn't stop you from caring for him. He kinda likes that you don't need him to ask for help, you just do it on your own.

A bowl of soup, plenty of meds and a full tissue box later, he's snuggled up in your lap, passed out under a blanket peacefully.

You save the "I told you so" conversation for the next day, but for now, you let him rest.

[moodyvoid]

Imagine dating Dabi and he’s sick in bed with a flu and you’ve been watching over him while he sleeps it off.

He starts mumbling in his sleep, “so hot… won’t stop… burning.” and you feel his forehead, it’s even hotter than usual.

You start dabbing an icy, cold rag on his face. The coldness wakes him up and in between that moment of asleep and awake he whispers, “Mom?”

[totallynotashieldagent]

gojo and megumi's first time getting the flu and gojo is CONVINCED megs is dying

megumi is only 6 when gojo takes him in

six year olds get sick.. a LOT

they fall, they're always covered in cuts and bruises and all that, satoru can handle, that's fine. he used to be the same. he's the kind that goes "rub some dirt in it" or "walk it off, kiddo, you're good"

but when he the first winter rolls around and megumi gets his first flu and he looks like death, gojo panics

not in the mom sense, no- in the way dads panic. in the way oh no, my child is definitely going to die panic because megumi's nose is blocked, the fever's running high and his cough sounds like he'll pop out a lung

so here he is

it's 3:30 am and he's banging at your door

megumi is in his arms, his head is lolling to the side, eyes rolled back because satoru genuinely has no idea what to do

you open the door, rubbing your eyes with confusion-

HE'S DYING!! no he's not

YES HE IS!! no he's not

did you take him to the doctor? NO I - Oh no i didn't-

Yup, that's basically how the conversation goes. He was so panicked, all his smartest, strongest, every brain cell immediately died.

You help megumi lie down in your bed. Show satoru how to do cold compress and rub vapo rub on megumi's neck and chest. You show satoru which teas help the most and in the morning, you call a doctor for him.

megumi sleeps, his mouth open, throat dry, head propped up on pillows because his nose is still blocked. and satoru stays awake, his eyes wide open behind his blindfold until megumi gets better.

and a week later, satoru catches the flu from megumi and shows up at your doorstep, convinced that he's dying too.

Drabble Master List.

[yuwuta]

Wow I have been nonstop thinking about tennis king yuuta and his little baby boy I’m going to kill you (affectionate) - @yuutito

teeheeeeeeeee….. here’s some more, aleks :’) enjoy :))))))

“Everybody thinks he looks like me, but I don’t see it that way. Maybe it’s because every time I look at him, I see my wife and I’m reminded of her […] I’m a little biased so I see her in everything.” 

You find yourself with tears welling in your eyes the more you read into Yuuta’s latest magazine interview. Between his sweet quotes and the pictures of him with your son, it’s taking everything in you not to burst into full-blown tears. 

Your boys look so handsome. You and Yuuta shared your concerns with publicizing your child at such a young age, but you two came to the conclusion that you’d rather have the control in the narrative than to let private family pictures be leaked uncontrollably. As another point of reassurance, Yuuta’s career provided him with just enough lime-light to be a household name without the crazy fame and criticism that came along being a true celebrity. Besides—Yuuta talked enough about you and your son in press conferences and interviews that it was bound to happen sooner rather than later. 

The article wasn’t entirely about you, or your family—or at least, you’re sure it wasn’t intended to be; you knew your husband had a knack for rambling about his loved ones, even where work was concerned. As you continue to read, you find a segment where the author compared Yuuta’s current statements with something similar he’d said about you twelve years ago—at the very start of his professional career: “If I owe this [winning Gold] to anybody, it’s my girlfriend. She’s always believed in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself. I wouldn’t have qualified or even thought to qualify if it weren’t for her.” 

It feels like you and Yuuta were just two kids in love back then. You didn’t think it could be more than that—you didn’t think you could love Yuuta more than you did all those years ago, but somewhere along the way just being in love wasn’t enough to describe it; Yuuta became your partner, someone you loved fundamentally, but also because you couldn’t stand to see yourself without him. And just when you thought you couldn’t love anyone nearly as much as you love him, you turn the page to a picture of your husband and son peeping through the holes of a racket and your heart feels full. 

When you scan the image more closely, you realize that it isn’t just any racket—it’s an old one, one you’d given to Yuuta as a gift probably back in high-school. You had no idea he’d kept it, but you suppose you shouldn’t be all that surprised; Yuuta is nothing if not sentimental. 

“Ah, there she is~” Yuuta’s voice cuts through your thoughts. When you turn, you see him, with your baby boy on his hip, sliding the back porch door closed. 

Both boys approach you with a smile on your face, and you set the magazine aside to sit up in the lounge chair to greet them. Yuuta presses a kiss to your forehead, then your lips before you do the same to your son. Immediately after, he reaches his arms out for you, and Yuuta chuckles, “You wanna be with your mama? Can’t blame you, I missed her, too.” 

He hands the baby off to you, and takes a seat on the other end of the chair, reaching over to coo at his son as you smother his face in kisses. 

“How was the farmer’s market?” you question, letting the baby settle into your lap. 

“Good, he picked out some very bright peppers, and we got some more strawberries, know you’ve been craving them,” Yuuta smiles, reaching over to pat your son’s head, when the closed magazine catches his eye, and he reaches for it, quickly flipping through, “Ah—I guess that interview’s out. He’s grown so much, even though it was only a few months ago.” 

You find the blush on his cheeks beyond endearing. Yuuta always finds room to be bashful no matter how many times he’s waxed poetic about his love for you, or his family—his cheeks always stain pink like the first day you met him. 

“It’s sweet. You’re sweet,” you smile, sparing a hand to run through Yuuta’s hair, charmed by the way he leans into your touch, “I didn’t know you still had that racket.” 

“Of course, I keep everything you give me,” he says, earnestly. He closes the magazine and scoots a little closer, taking advantage of the proximity and of your touch to lay his head on your shoulder, “Did you… read all of it?” 

“Almost, but no, why?” you question, with a light-hearted grin, “Did you say something that would lead the world to believe you’re somehow even more in love with me? Because you might already be past the threshold, dear.” 

Yuuta hums. He reaches to take you son out of your lap and carefully shifts himself to that he’s laying down, his head on your lap, and the baby in his arms, happily giggling and cooing as Yuuta holds him up. He lowers and raises him back and forth a few times, nuzzling their noses together when their faces are close, before sitting him up on his chest.

Then he tilts his head up to look at you, wide, love-filled eyes blinking slowly before he says, “Maybe… depends on if me saying I want more kids is past the threshold or not.” 

[venus-haze]

Watch It Bring You To Your Knees (Baby Firefly x Reader)

Summary: You should've never told your boyfriend to pick up the hitchhiker on the side of the road...right?

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. Happy Femslash February y’all! Anyway, don’t interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. Kidnapping. Sexually explicit content that involves extremely dubious consent, elements of petplay, sadism, degradation, spanking, oral sex (f. receiving), boot riding. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

Baby Firefly was the most obnoxious, irritating, nasty bitch you’d ever had the displeasure of running into in your life. To make the situation you found yourself in worse, you were the one who told your boyfriend to pick up the hitchhiking woman, even though he wanted to keep driving. You supposed you were better off with her than with Otis, though. Your boyfriend’s anguished screams from down the hall put every horror movie you ever watched to shame. Baby wasn’t shy about using a knife, you had plenty of cuts of varying depth to show for it, but your last stupid burst of courage had yet to rear its ugly head as she gleefully snapped a dog collar around your neck.

“Okay, now sit!” she ordered.

You were silent, sending the meanest glare you could muster to her. As if it’d make a difference.

“C’mon, be a good puppy and sit!”

“Fuck you.” You spat in her face.

Your cheek stung with the force she used to backhand you, taking advantage of your moment of disorientation to press her knife against your throat. 

“I should cut your fucking tongue out for that,” she hissed, her nose touching yours. “But you did tell your dumbass boyfriend to pick me up.” She regarded you silently for a moment. “You still gotta pay.”

She hauled you up by your collar, choking you in the process. You fruitlessly clawed at her hand, but she didn’t release you until you were bent over her lap in front of her vanity, chest burning as she grabbed your ass cheeks. 

“I think ten is good to start, don’t you?”

“Ten?” you breathed hoarsely.

“Nah, you’re right, twenty-five’s more like it.”

Your eyes widened.

She grinned, slapping her hand against your ass. She did so again, harder, causing you to gasp in pain. “Hey dummy, it don’t count if you don’t count,” she taunted, spanking you again. “So count.”

“One.”

“There ya go!” 

At ten, she claimed her hand was sore, and you thought you were getting off easy. Except she grabbed a hairbrush from her vanity, each spank with that stinging even worse than her hand. You could barely choke out the number when it snapped in half against your welted asscheek at twenty-one.

You knew better by then to expect her to give you a break. She simply shrugged, throwing the broken hair brush aside and going back to spanking you with her hand. By the time you reached twenty-five, hot tears rolled down your face, both in pain and embarrassment at how wet you’d gotten. Each time you squirmed in her lap, you could feel your wetness slicking up your inner thighs.

She scratched her nails against your raw skin, giggling when you whimpered in pain. Her hand drifted between your thighs, her fingers prodding at your wet pussy. “I guess that wasn’t much of a punishment, was it? Feels like you liked it a lot.” She slipped two fingers inside you, pumping them in and out at a frustratingly slow pace. You moaned, rutting against her hand to try to get more friction. She hummed, curling her fingers inside you. Your pussy clenched around her fingers. Fuck, you were close, you were so fucking–“I think you still need to show me how sorry you are for bein’ so rude.”

A whine caught in your throat when she pulled her hand away, instead grabbing you by the collar and pushing you onto your knees in front of her. She shimmed out of her panties, throwing them aside and opening her legs. You looked from her pussy to her face, eyes wide in disbelief. She couldn’t really expect you to–

“Don’t go all prude on me. If you’re gonna run your mouth, you’re gonna put it to good use,” she said, before cruelly adding, “Just pretend you’re kissin’ your little boyfriend.”

With a shaky breath, you leaned in, too slowly for Baby’s liking, because she gripped the back of your head and pushed your face against her pussy. Your nose brushed her clit as you tentatively licked between her folds. You didn’t want to make her feel good, she didn’t deserve it, even if she was hot, but she’d do a hell of a lot worse than spank your ass raw if you didn’t do what you were told this time 

You tried thinking about what you liked when your boyfriend actually went down on you, what you wanted him to do when he did. You dragged your tongue up her pussy until you reached her clit, giving it a few flicks before closing your lips around it, the lewd sound of you sucking her wet cunt mixed with her moans, sending a rush of pleasure down your spine.

You reached between your legs, rubbing your clit, sloppily moaning against Baby’s pussy. She was practically riding your face at that point, though she got wise to her suddenly doing most of the heavy lifting. “Uh-uh, this is the only way you’re gonna cum,” she sneered, shoving her dirty cowboy boot between your legs. “C’mon, hump it like a good little bitch.”

With a shaky breath, you rubbed yourself against it, finding your rhythm more quickly than you cared to admit. Your calves ached the harder you grinded against Baby’s boot, but pleasure curled its tendrils through your abdomen, beckoning you closer to release. 

“Tell me my boot feels better than any dick you’ve let in your cunt.” When you moved away from her pussy to speak, she grabbed you by the hair. “Use your fingers, stupid, don’t leave me hangin’.” You nodded, fingering her in the absence of your mouth. She moaned, “Now say it.”

“Your boot–” She flexed her foot, pushing it against your pussy, the pressure hitting your clit at just the right spot to make your hips jerk. “Fuck–your boot feels better than any dick I’ve let in my cunt.”

“Now say, ‘Thank you for letting me your slut, Baby.’”

You didn’t even hesitate. “Thank you for letting me be your slut, Baby.”

She moaned, rolling her hips against your hand. Her fingers dug into the back of your head, pushing your face against her pussy again. You didn’t need to be told that time, your tongue lapping her up while rubbing circles against her clit. Static filled your brain as you tried to focus on Baby’s pleasure and your own, the two seeming to converge as she came on your tongue with a high-pitched whine, soaking your face. At the same time, her boot rubbed harder against your aching cunt, sending you over the edge as you clung to her leg, your wet face pressed against her thigh as you hopelessly rode out your orgasm on her boot. 

You couldn’t find it in you to be embarrassed, not when you were seeing stars and she was probably the last person you were ever gonna see anyway. Fuck, if she was gonna kill you, at least you got the best orgasm of your life first.

“Will you two keep it the fuck down?” Otis shouted through the door, shattering the salacious haze you’d gotten lost in.

“Mind your fucking business!” Baby yelled back, grabbing the nearest object from her vanity and throwing it at the wall. “Perv!” Though she shouted that with a smile.

When she pulled her boot out from under you, she snickered as she kicked her foot around, watching how your juices glistened against the leather. “You liked that a lot, huh?” A grin spread across her face. “I’m gonna have to keep you around a while.”

[moo-blogging]

No thoughts in my head but staying in with Levi during the weekends.

It's drizzling outside since the morning. After having a simple, hearty lunch, you decided to stay in bed. Your belly is swollen with a baby. You're seven months pregnant with a healthy baby boy. You're pretty sure the baby is a carbon copy of Levi, because he's being very active and it's wearing you out.

You're leaning on a big pillow perched against the headrest, slowly dozing off to the soft music from the stereo. It's said to calm the baby, but it calms you instead. Levi rests his head on your lap. He's touching and massaging your belly lovingly. His warm palms going in circles on your swollen belly, reducing the discomfort you feel. You sign in relief.

Just then, the baby kicks, stretching your belly and it catches both of you off guard. The baby movements might make your heart warm but it does take a toll on your body. Levi immediately sooth the area, cooing gently to the baby, "let's not kick mommy too hard, ok? You're feeding of mommy, and mommy's carrying you around, so be gently with mommy."

You feel Levi's lips on your skin. He kisses your stretched out skin tenderly. He then leans his cheek on your belly, signs as he listens to the baby inside.

You stroke his head while he rubs your belly. You realise, you have fallen more in love with him.

[libbyfandom]

Going through comments on a BES video:

Someone: “The only pattern in Mizu’s outfit is her obi (her belt) and it’s made from her baby blanket 🙁.”

Me with my hands on my knees, about to have a mental breakdown:

“It’s

what!?”

[fmhobeus]

fleeting sappy thoughts

in every universe hobie brown is a guy who doesn't do commitment. he doesn't do titles, labels, rings, cuffing as a concept. he never has a family, so he never thought about having his own. plus, the dangers of the job, can't really tell when he'd get to be there for someone. the last thing he'd do is be deadbeat. so he says he doesn't believe in starting a family. but he knows you do and he knows you sacrifice that part of you to be with him.

from time to time he does see what you see. wedding bells, suits, champagne, guests, you in a white dress followed by the obvious pregnancy tests, happy tears, your body swollen up because of him and well... a child. he smiles at the thought occasionally but he knows better than to pursue it. until one day he gives it a serious thought.

he doesn't directly mention it, of course (it's hobie.) its always innocuous.

one day he's putting on his clothes. the usual spiky belts and bracelets.

" if 'e eve' have a kid am i gon' have to put a rubba guard on my belt?" he chuckles. you laugh with him but soon realize. waittttt he never does this... never brings up kids of his own. of your own. must be mayday's impact, you believe.

it escalates though, and you let him have his moment.

when he buys you things, he often asks "ya get a baby version o' dis?" or "bet this'd look so cute on a' lil' kid righ'?"

until it culminates in him admitting it to you after a long night together. your head is on his chest. you like it that way.

"babe"

you can feel his heartbeat accelerate. it's beating so fast its reverberating through your body due to your proximity to him.

"i love you"

"hmm i love you too" you say, but you know he's stalling.

"i look good inna suit innit?" he smirks down at you. you smile at him, he always looks good. "and you'd look bomb in 'ose long white gowns yeah?"

"somebody you know getting married, hobes? you dont be bringing up wedding attire outta no where..."

"i jus' been... ya know... considering it... n shi'. it's all cuz a' you. i been thinkin', you in white, band on tha' hand type... then eventually make you all swollen up cuza' me... i's hot as shit"

"sicko" you taunt.

"can' really help it, can i love?"

[meownotgood]

Aki baby fever agenda is very strong these days

a coworker brings their baby to work, and that sets off the gears in Aki’s head to have some of your own. Aki doesn't really know what's come over him. he barely remembers getting home, finding you in the kitchen, and pressing you up against the counter. he barely remembers tugging off yours and his own clothes right there and then. and right now he's barely present as he fucks load after load into you

somewhere, in the back of aki's mind, he's aware of the consequences of his actions. there's a part of him that knows he shouldn't act like this, that knows this is terribly irresponsible. but right now, when he has you pinned beneath him, your pretty hands in his and his dick buried deep inside you, all he can think about is how badly he wants to give you his children.

how many times have the two of you fucked since aki came home from work? it's only been a few hours, but you've gone at it two or three times, or was it four? since he first pushed you over the kitchen counter, and then left dinner behind to carry you to his bedroom, aki's begun to lose track.

all he's been doing is daydreaming, making love to you while imagining what it's gonna be like to marry you. he'll propose, he'll announce to his coworkers that he's getting married. aki stares at your hand in his while he bucks his hips into you, and imagines a bright shiny ring on your finger. you'll have a nice wedding, you'll take aki's last name, you'll move in with him. aki imagines getting you pregnant right here, in his own bed. he wonders if your kids will look more like him, or more like you. he hopes the answer is both.

aki doesn't stop until you're completely exhausted, and until he's completely emptied. he cums in you as deep as he possibly can, he doesn't move an inch until he's sure he's filled your womb with all of it.

"that's it, that's it... take it all for me, g-god..." aki praises, his palm pressed gently to your stomach. he rubs in circles, right where his and your baby is going to form. his chest heaves, his breath is quickened, and he slowly comes down from his fifth orgasm of the night, giving you the last of what he has.

"I love you so much... I love you. you stopped taking your birth control a few days ago, didn't you? you can throw it out. if we're gonna start a family together, I've gotta get you pregnant... we'll try some more times tomorrow, okay?"

[strawbby-shortcake]

★ COMFORT HEADCANONS (part 1)! ★ [with the fight club characters!]

: ̗̀➛ how they would treat you when you're sick

☁︎ TYLER DURDEN

Tyler would be there for you literally 24/7. You want something to eat? He'll get it for you. Tired? He'll make the bed nice and comfy for you to lay on. He's literally the definition of "acts of service."

He's not a germaphobe. There's no way. He digs into liposuction dumpsters, so a little sickness isn't going to freak him out. He'll be glued by your side and even let you sleep on him.

If you refuse his kisses because you don't want to get him sick, he'll just kiss your cheek or your forehead all the time.

He's the type to hold your hair or rub your back if you start throwing up. He won't look at you, tease you, or make jokes. Even though it's in his nature to be a bit of a jackass, he's super kind in those moments.

While he believes rest is important, he'll make you get out of bed and get some sunshine. It doesn't have to be for long, but you have to at least go outside for fresh air.

He most definitely told the Fight Club members/Space Monkeys to leave him the fuck alone while he was gone taking care of you.

☁︎ JACK (THE NARRATOR)

This poor baby doesn't really know what to do at first since he's never really taken care of someone before. He tries his best though! However, he'll panic if you start coughing a lot because he thinks you're dying.

Once he's got the hang of it, he's a really good caretaker! He'll offer you tissues, blankets, and any other essentials you need. He will also offer to sit with you and put on your favorite show or read to you.

Unlike Tyler, this guy is a bit of a germaphobe, but that's because his immune system is so weak since he doesn't get enough sleep. He won't really kiss you or hug you for long periods of time, but he won't ignore you either. Maybe you'll get a quick forehead or knuckle kiss.

He'll take time off from his job and Fight Club to be at home with you. You're more important to him than anything else.

He will cry if you throw up. And he'll probably gag and throw up too. Just saying.

If you find yourself unable to sleep comfortably, he'll eventually snuggle with you. A week later, you'll be the one taking care of him because he got sick.

☁︎ MARLA SINGER

Marla doesn't realize that you're sick until a few days later. You know her, she's a bit sporadic at times. When she eventually gets home and sees you pale and coughing, her mothering nature kicks in.

She makes sure you're fed, hydrated, and well rested. She won't leave you alone- not even for 10 minutes. If she has to run out to get something though, she makes you promise that you'll stay in bed.

Marla only cares about you getting better, so she ignores everyone else. She'll have like 15 missed calls, but she doesn't mind. They could wait.

Under her care and supervision, you get better within a week! Marla knows how to take care of people, so it's only natural that she knew how to take care of you.

She does ask for a pack of cigarettes as a "thanks." That's all she wants- oh, and Twizzlers.

She tells you to wear your sweater wherever you go so you don't catch a cold again.

☁︎ ROBERT "BOB" PAULSON

He always has cough drops in his pockets, so he'll offer some to you. There's a variety of flavors to choose from. (His personal favorite is vanilla honey.)

Bob is the type of person to carry you to and from bed, place cold/hot washcloths on your forehead, and attend to your every need.

He'll let you cry in his shirt if you feel extremely sick. He might cry too, but that's just Bob being Bob.

He makes the BEST chicken noodle soup, there's no doubt about it. You'll be having a bowl of it at least twice a day.

He might bring you to the support groups while you're sick so that you get to experience the meditation part of it.

Probably spoon feeds you too.

☁︎ ANGEL FACE

He writes you a "get well soon" card and leaves it on your nightstand.

An extreme germaphobe. He won't go anywhere near you.

Okay so maybe he goes to check on you ONCE...or twice...okay maybe he's really worried about you so now he won't stop checking on you.

Holds your hand and pouts because you're not well enough to give him attention.

Gives you strawberry-flavored cough medicine.

Gets "sick" after you recover because he wants to be taken care of.

[jackthekangaroo]

SOMEONE SAY AEMOND BABIES!?!? I made these for my own personal au, but I saw a comment before about Aemond wanting 12 babies.. Hope these evil bundles of joy brighten your arvi! 💕✨

@its-actually-minicika

[yuwuta]

gojo assistant to gojo househusband is EVERYTHING to me he’d be so good at it. packing up bentos before work, visiting u for a lunch break, visiting u for a shoulder and neck massage. hes just so cute. i bet that even when he gets to a househusband role he’d still do some assistant duties and he absolutely is against u getting another assistant bc he’s been that guy and he knows u are too easily fallen in love with. he’d probably only give up that role to someone that he trusts 100% and knows that won’t fall in love with you like yuuta and even then he probs gets a tiny bit irrationally jealous when yuuta knows a lot about your schedule and habits bc that’s HIS job but a lil smooch from u will have him too flustered to even remember what initially ticked him off

when he finally makes it out of the work husband territory, he’s already wildly insufferable as a boyfriend. but when he finally becomes your husband? all bets are off—if people thought satoru couldn’t be louder or prouder of you they were so, so very wrong. he was born for this. 

sends you off with a bento and a kiss every single morning, and then calls you right before lunch time to remind you to actually take your lunch break and eat—and maybe because he wants compliments on the food he made you. when he can’t send you off with lunch, he has yuuta deliver it for you, or he drops it off himself, which is always a welcome surprise, not just for you, but everybody in the office. it’s nice that he’s remembered so fondly, and some days he does miss it, but he wouldn’t trade in being your husband for the world. 

so true about yuuta being his replacement—satoru was very, very thorough in the vetting process of hiring your new secretary. he knows how easy it is to fall in love you, he knows what it’s like to be the work husband and he refuses to hire anybody else who might think even slightly like him. so, call it nepotism or call it favoritism, but yuuta is one of maybe three people satoru actually trusts with the job. turns out yuuta is best suited for it anyway, which brings satoru even more relief. on the days he really misses you, it makes him pout when you recount all the times yuuta saved your ass, but a kiss or two really is he needs to be brought back to reality. 

he’s always calling or texting you with paint samples or fabric samples, and you’ve learned to not try and make sense of satoru’s interior design priorities. you really don’t think that the guest bathroom needs new wallpaper, but he does and if he wants to install it, who are you to stop him. so many days you come home from work and he’s like, “oh, babe, my mom called in a friend of a friend and turns out her husband can make us our own version of that vintage couch you saw in the museum display last week,” which is. absolutely insane because that’s easily a $25,000 couch, but he just waves you off about it and asks you what color you want it in—he’ll handle everything else. 

[amee-racle-ofmyown]

a whisper in the autumn wind

Heist!Mark x reader | Words: 1647 | Read on AO3

A chill racks your body as you and Mark make your way through the cool night. You mentally curse, wishing you were wearing more layers, though you know anything more wouldn't have fit under the tactical vest that sits snugly around your torso.

Your heist partner doesn't seem to notice you shiver, busy making sure the coast is clear before proceeding and gesturing for you to follow.

You do your best to keep pace with your friend's manoeuvres as he darts an odd pattern through the museum, triggering a bout of slight nausea that causes you to stop in your tracks.

‘Hey, keep up!’ Mark whisper-yells, turning around just in time to miss you steadying yourself after a wave of dizziness.

Somehow you make it the rest of the way without collapsing or being seen, but you're now all too aware of the fatigue in your muscles and the soreness in your throat. Meanwhile, your partner in crime carefully but swiftly wraps the stolen artefacts and slips them into his bag.

Your prize this time? A series of ancient tablets that you plan to sell to an illegal collector. You can't imagine what practical use someone would have for these, but at the end of the day, a job's a job and money is money.

It is only on your way out, that you feel the tell-tale itch in your nose that you have been dreading all evening.

As you scrunch up your face, Mark looks at you in confusion.

‘Buddy, you've been acting off all night, what's up with you? You good?’

You nod, desperately wanting to move on and for this to be over with.

The first couple of sneezes you manage to quell without too much fuss, but you can already feel a larger one threatening your nostrils.

While crouched behind a display, hiding from some guards, comes the point at which you can no longer hide that you're suppressing sneezes.

‘Alright, we are so close to being scot-free— hey what are you —? You're not sick are you? Really? Now?!’

Mark shakes his head back and forth with a string of frantically whispered "no"s as you fight your reflexes, but it's futile.

The sneeze that finally escapes you is resounding, and there is a beat of stunned silence and lack of movement from every party involved before you and Mark react first, bolting out the exit with the guards in pursuit.

It's a mad dash with a lot of ducking and diving, adrenaline probably the only thing keeping your body going, but by some miracle the two of you manage to lose them, eventually making it to where your getaway vehicle is parked some ways away so as to not be suspicious.

Piling into the passenger seat, exhaustion hits you all at once and you're thankful that Mark is the one driving. You pull off your gloves and hat and he does the same.

With no one following you, your partner drives cautiously in order to not draw any unwanted attention, careful to abide by traffic laws and always on the lookout for cops.

‘There's tissues and water in the glove box,’ he says after a few minutes, expression hard-lined and inscrutable, eyes focused on the road.

There's a thick tension in the car, uncharacteristically quiet save for the limited traffic outside and the rumble of the engine. You blow your nose, and it feels awkward in the silence, only broken on occasion by your sniffing. You take a sip of water, grateful for the coolness against your chapped lips and dry throat.

Eventually, you decide you don't want to endure the tension any longer, and you're too tired to let your little mishap turn into an argument; it was your fault, after all.

‘I'm sorry.’

Mark sighs. He glances at you, then back to the road.

‘It's okay. It's not your fault you're sick, it's just… Why didn't you tell me?’

‘Didn't want to ruin the heist.’ You laugh, but it's strained and weak, void of any real mirth or humour. ‘But I guess I kinda messed up on that anyway, huh?’

He lets out a small huff of laughter. ‘Yeah, no shit.’

You look down at your hands, folded in your lap.

‘Hey, it's not a big deal,’ he consoles. ‘We got what we came for and we didn't get caught. That's about as much as we can say for most of our heists.’

Your gaze stays downcast; he does make a good point, but it doesn't stop you from feeling a little guilty.

Mark must notice, because he reaches across to place a hand on your shoulder reassuringly, other hand still keeping the wheel steady.

You put your own hand over his, grateful for the comfort. You close your eyes and will away the growing dizziness and brain fog, the warmth from his now ungloved palm reassuring.

‘Look buddy, I need you to know I'm not mad or anything, just a bit upset that you didn't tell me in the first place… and annoyed at myself for not catching onto the fact sooner. I just thought… I thought you felt like you could be honest with me about this stuff.’

There's an undeniable hurt in his tone that makes you look up at him. He is still intently focused on the road ahead, despite there being rather few other people and cars out at this time of night, and you know it's out of choice — he takes his eyes off the streets in favour of looking your way for much longer than necessary when he wants to. Usually you'd chide him for doing so, but right now you can't help but wish he'd properly meet your eyes, just for a moment.

‘No – I can. I can tell you nearly everything, I – I'm sorry.’ You take a steadying breath, organising your thoughts. ‘You were just – really looking forward to this one, and there was no better day for it, everything lined up perfectly for us to go tonight. This stupid cold had to turn up and it started out as just a sore throat, no big deal, and well… I thought I could stick it out a little longer despite feeling like crap, but…’ You trail off, turning to look out the window as he approaches your shared base, returning his hand to the wheel.

He pulls up, setting the car to park, and finally turns his head to fully face you, placing a hand on your knee to get your attention.

He says your name, and it sounds like a term of endearment. For someone so bold and often brash, he can be surprisingly tender, a side of him that rarely anyone but you gets to see. ‘I rely on you, and you can rely on me… but part of that means we have to tell each other these things.’

‘Yeah, OK…’

‘Pinky promise?’

‘What are you, five?’

‘I'm serious,’ he says firmly, holding out his finger to emphasise the point.

Smiling, you hook your pinky around his own and shake on it, but not without rolling your eyes first.

‘Good,’ he says, pleased. ‘Now that that's settled, let's get inside, hm?’

While Mark retrieves the loot and stows it for the time being, you let yourself in, settling on the small couch in the living room. You take off your shoes and unzip your vest, easing it off your aching limbs.

The nausea and dizziness seems to have passed but you feel hot, yet a little shivery, and you're on the verge of nodding off when Mark appears in front of you, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. If it's even possible, you feel incrementally hotter with his touch as you return his concerned gaze through sleepy, half-lidded eyes.

‘I think you've got a fever, bud. C'mon, time for bed.’

You groan in protest, too drained to move, instead letting your head fall forward to plop against his chest, the soft texture of his plain black sweater a comforting feel against your fevered skin.

‘Oh boy, what am I gonna do with you…?’ he murmurs, bringing a hand up to pat your hair. He speaks softly, and with such affection that your heart would probably be doing somersaults if you weren't so tired and ill.

‘Alright, upsy-daisy.’ In one quick motion, he picks you up, carrying you bridal style to your room, and for once you don't object.

‘Hey, you better not make me sick too,’ he warns without an ounce of actual distaste, as you practically nuzzle your face into him.

He gently lays you in bed, tucking covers around you.

‘I'll be right back.’

You instantly miss his presence, tugging the blanket up a little around yourself.

He returns before long with a box of tissues, the bottle of water you'd been drinking and some painkillers, leaving them by your bedside. He places a wet face cloth beside you as well.

‘I know you're probably feeling cold but I don't want your temperature to get too high, so use this, and keep drinking water.’

You nod, about ready to drift to sleep.

‘Call me if you need anything, OK? I won't be far.’

‘Don't you want to sleep?’

‘I will in a little while, but you can still call me.’

‘Ok,’ you reply appreciatively. ‘Thanks for… looking after me.’

‘Someone's got to.’ He smiles at you gently, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.

After a pause, he gets up to leave, pulling the door closed but leaving a gap the width of his face.

‘Rest up, buddy.’

He makes a quick kissing sound in your direction before shutting the door fully, his footsteps receding down the hallway.

Your face feels very warm.

Must be the fever, you think, placing the towel on your forehead with a yawn, before swiftly falling asleep.

[love-marimo]

just a kaveh drabble bc my head is so full of him… (fem!reader)

(kaveh stops by reader's house after the whole event of interdarshan championship and laments and then they share a sweet and spicy moment~)

"Congratulations." You set your cup of tea on the table to greet Kaveh as he enters your home. He sighs as you take off his red shawl, setting it by the edge of the sofa.

"For someone who seldom leaves the house, you always seem to know everything." He says, placing a kiss on your cheek. He sits down and makes himself comfortable, you also do the same after fetching your cup of tea.

"My place isn't that far from the contest proper. It got crowded pretty easily and everyone was speaking your name in conversation." You smile, rubbing circles on his hands.

Kaveh runs his hand through his hair, brows furrowed. Time and time again he seemed to have so much on his mind.

"What's the matter? Are you not happy about it? With the prize, you can finally move out of Alhaitham's place." You ask.

"I donated it. I also destroyed the diadem because of its curse. I just… ah… sometimes I wish my thoughts don't plague my mind all the time. I wonder if the diadem didn't exist… if there was another trophy for the Interdarshan Championship… maybe things would be different… maybe… my father would still be alive…" He says, resting his head on your shoulder.

The cold summer night's breeze comforted the both of you as you cradled each other in your arms.

"You did your best. At least, in a way, your father can rest easy now. I'm sure he's proud of you." You reply, stroking his hair.

"I… know that. I feel quite relieved that I have people who I can turn to and celebrate with regardless, and that includes you. But still… I guess I'm still dwelling on it."

You turn to look at him and find him with teary eyes and quivering lips.

"Kaveh…" You wipe a stray tear and kiss the corner of his eye.

With bated breath, he finds your lips and kisses them, seeking your comfort and ardor. You kiss back as your hands travel all over his body, seating yourself on his lap.

He pulls back to kiss and suck on the crook of your neck, and you grind yourself on his clothed erection, whispering sweet nothings to his ear, doing all that you can to lull his tears.

"It's okay sweetheart. I'm here for you. I will always be." You hush him in his broken cries for your name.

You position yourself in between his thighs and you unbutton his pants. Kissing the tip, you lick a line on his shaft. He bites the back of his hand, suppressing a moan.

"D-do we really- ah- have to do this?" He asks as you start to suck him off.

"It's okay. Let me take care of you." You reply, giving him a reassuring smile before you resume your ministrations.

Lewd sounds and his saccharine moans echoed in your living room. Kaveh cries in overwhelm, in comfort and relief to have you by his side. He wonders where his loneliness would take him if he had no one, but his thoughts soon fade away as pleasure takes over, his eyes filled with haze and his lips chanting your name over and over again, in gratitude and admiration.

"I- I'm close…!" He whines, and you slow down, letting his load fill your mouth as you swallow every last drop of his cum.

You stand up to sit on him again, cockwarming him as he tastes himself on your lips. He kisses you all over, his soft voice telling you that he loves you again and again.

His cheeks are flushed and there are still stray tears, but you seem to have fulfilled your mission successfully as he smiles at you with lidded eyes.

"I love you. You're the sweetest thing that has ever happened to me."

Kissing his tear stained cheek, again, you reply.

"I know, darling, I know."

ー Lolita

[newtabfics]

Rauru x Sickness

If You're sick:

Frantic. Absolutely frantic

"This is it. This is how I lose her. I failed the love of my life."

"Darling, I just have a cold from getting caught in the rain."

The king is frantic to have all the constructs both help and protect you.

Is shaking while trying to spoon feed you soup, despite that you literally are fine.

Will baby you.

If HE is sick:

It's the end of the world

Pathetic Zonai man

"My light, if I pass, I need you to know I love you."

"You don't even have a fever, Rauru. Stop being a child."

"BUT I LOVE YOU."

He is absolutely the worst patient for as simple as he refuses to admit defeat and is going about the kingdom trying to continue his duties despite needing bedrest.

Is absolutely passed out on the throne so you ask the constructs for help taking him back to the bedroom while another gets extra blankets.

Only stays in bed cuz he realized he could hold you while he sleeps.

Feels awful when you catch it.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Tabby: Give me pathetic whiny men any day.