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ddejavvu · 1 year ago

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Hotch with a totally shy medical examiner!!! He always visits her although sometimes it would‘nt be necessary ... 🫣🫣 Hotch got a crushhhhhh !!

The team notices that Hotch seems to be injuring himself more and more now that Quantico has a medical wing installed. Because of a rather unfortunate incident on floor 4, where a woman had an allergic reaction and no one was able to find her an epipen in time, there's now a mini-clinic located just across the elevators on floor 5.

Hotch doesn't even bother notifying his team of where he's going this time. He simply barrels towards the glass doors that shield the BAU from the hallway outside, but JJ doesn't let him escape that easily.

"Hotch, is everything okay?"

She expects him to say that there's been some sort of emergency at Jack's school, that he needs to pick the boy up. But she shouldn't, she should have expected what must be the most frequent phrase out of his mouth in the past three weeks.

"Fine. I've got a headache, I'm going to the clinic."

He offers no room for his team's replies as he pushes through the glass doors, standing by the elevators and waiting impatiently. His gaze is so intense on the metal doors that he's surprised he doesn't burn right through them, but the elevator finally reaches him, and he steps inside without looking back into the BAU to see his team members staring.

"He's so full of shit," Derek scoffs, "He doesn't have a headache."

"I think he's got a perpetual headache," Reid muses, and Rossi, who'd been working on stirring his third cup of coffee for the day pipes up.

"I would, if I had to manage you bozos all day," The man grins wryly, but doesn't exclude himself from the conversation; for all his teasing, he wants to gossip about Hotch too.

"Nah. He just wants to see the hot nurse," Derek insists, "I've seen her. She's cute, and all, but she's no Savannah."

"Maybe I should have a headache later," Emily muses, lost in thought and toying with the necklace resting on her chest.

"He's gonna have to start finding new excuses," Derek leans back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other with his ankle against his knee, "Maybe he'll ask one of us to shoot him just so he can get her hands all over him packing up the bullet hole."

"And that is my cue to leave," Rossi grimaces, "I don't often like mixing sex with wound care."

The older man pointedly ignores Derek's comment about how that's probably why he's thrice divorced; he's not freaky enough. He shuts his office door behind him and conversation putters out among the bullpen, each agent stuck with a residual smirk on their faces as they get back to their paperwork.

"Agent Hotchner," You smile kindly up at the man who steps through the doors of your clinic, "I'm not sure why I even looked up, I should have known it was you."

He chuckles bashfully, hands tucked into his pockets, "I haven't been getting much sleep lately, so I've got a pretty persistent migraine."

"Is it hard, sleeping after a day at your job? The things you see," You trail off, reaching into a drawer at your desk to retrieve a bottle of excedrin, "I don't think I'd be sleeping either."

Aaron's suddenly flustered by your concern for him. He'd intended for his poorly crafted excuse to come across as light insomnia, too much coffee during the day or a scary movie at night. But as you reach out to hand over two tablets of medicine, he meets your eyes with a fond gaze.

"I'm alright," He assures you, his voice soft and earnest. He touches you more than necessary, taking your loose fist in his hand and uncurling your fingers for you so that the excedrin falls into his other palm bumped up against the heel of your hand.

You're surprised your hand doesn't start sweating at how flustered you've become, but you're glad for it. He secures the medicine in his fist, his hand still humming with the ghost of your touch.

"Sleep tonight," You warn him with a slightly weak voice, watching as he downs the pills with a gulp of water from a delicate paper cup stored by your sink, "Get off of any electronic devices for an hour before bed, read something boring, and keep the lights dim. And if none of that works, take sleeping pills, I can give you Tylenol PM if you don't have any at home."

"I'd love some," He smiles, lingering by the edge of your desk, "Thank you, Doctor."

"You can call me Y/N," You avert your eyes to your desk drawer, your voice feeble, "We see each other every day, you ought to be more familiar with me than that."

He chuckles, a soft exhale that sends butterflies with it into your stomach. You offer him the pills and again he takes your hand in his own, only making the fiery heat that burns at your cheeks more intense.

"Thank you. And you can call me Aaron," He takes the pulls from you, tucking them into the breast pocket of his button-up.

"Goodbye, Aaron," You grin, barely able to stop the expression from growing an embarrassing amount.

"Bye Y/N," He smiles back, eyes glimmering with fondness, "See you next time."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

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mydentalimplantsnz · 8 months ago

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studentinpursuitofclouds · 8 months ago

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can you write bachelors with a cryptid farmer? except they're not a cryptid, just a very strange person. and by that I mean the fact farmer will simply appear one day, start giving their love interest their loved items from the get go, character doesn't even know them! and then there's the fishing in weird places, always seeming to know where and what a character is doing, always running from one place to another, sometimes passing out in the deepest depths of the caves. very weird human.

I assume, dear anon, that you mean vanilla bachelors only. Hope I'm not wrong. Anyway, thanks for asking, and enjoy! 💖🫰

_________________________________________

SDV bachelors with a cryptid Farmer:

Well, Sam wasn't too surprised about favourite gifts - he's always a fan of eating something tasty, and pizza, as he thinks, is a win-win for almost everyone. So it's pretty easy to guess what to make him happy. Although the young guitarist sometimes thought that Farmer behaves rather recklessly and weird, the same words were said about Sam when he stuffed 40 marshmallows into his mouth on a bet. A bit odd, but Sam doesn't care, because Farmer is a good friend and, heck yeah, free food!

They're everywhere: at Marnie's ranch, at the JojaMart, at the Saloon. Shane is already afraid to look over his own shoulder, because there, with 99.9 % accuracy, Farmer will be behind him. No matter how much the chicken lover snapped at Farmer, no matter how much he calling them names, they stood like a statue, handing him a plate of pepper poppers. This weirdo is literally stalking him, but no-one's paying attention! The hell?! Although the peppers are tasty and spicy enough, can't argue with that. Wow, what a fucking life...

Poor Harvey has been sitting up late at night looking at Farmer's medical records and he's already getting a headache from trying to find some logic. Farmer still keep going to dangerous places, keep getting seriously injured (4 emergencies in a month!), and their wounds just inhumanly heal in a couple of days! How does that even possib- Farmer? How did you get in here? The clinic's closed. Oh, wine? For him? Why, thank you, it's his favorite- !!!! They- they just teleported right in front of Harvey.... The doctor won't need a wineglass anymore, he's gonna drink right from the bottle.

Yes, Elliott must confess: after a couple of instances when the writer had not even got beyond the threshold of his cottage and he had already been handed a duck feather and a basket of pomegranates by the Farmer, one could find them very strange. But you shouldn't judge a book by its cover. Maybe Farmer just has a hard time finding the words to communicate and this is how they express signs of friendship? And fishing... What's the big deal about fishing? The valley is rich in fish, so why be surprised that there are fish almost everywhere? Anyway, Elliott decides to judge people for their actions.

Alex should probably be concerned about Farmer's strange behaviour, but he... didn't care? Pelican Town was already full of people the athlete considered a bit odd, so why should he be surprised by the new Farmer's odd behaviour? They go everywhere, they fish everywhere, so what? It's their life. Though to Alex's recollection, regular farmers don't seem to fight monsters deep in the Mines, but then again, maybe that's their hobby. Plus Farmer give him his favourite salmon dinner all the time, so what's there to complain about?

Sebastian never seemed to have mentioned to anyone that he liked obsidian and frost tear so much. So he has no idea how the new farmer might know about it. Though, on the other hand, they're always carrying a bag of various cool gems from the mine and decided to give him something, so maybe a coincidence. Later there was a case where they stood right under the door of his room to hand him sashimi (also his favourite?) and ran off somewhere. Okay, that's pretty weird. There's sashimi, though.

#stardew valley #sdv #thanks for the ask!#sdv headcanons #sdv alex #sdv sam #sdv sebastian #sdv harvey #sdv elliott #sdv shane

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monstersandmaw · 2 years ago

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Male fox spirit x female reader (nsfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

___

Commission #4 in the list of 5! Thank you for trusting me with your prompt: female reader saves a dying fox on her way home from work, who turns out to be a fox spirit. I hope you like it!

Contents: Fox suffers a spinal injury when hit by a car (not the reader’s); there’s some magic; some domestic fluff; oral sex, fingering, him coming on her; and a sweet, fluffy ending.

Wordcount: 4400

Driving rain greeted you full in the face as you shoved open the main doors of the building and burrowed down into your coat, drawing the hood tight around your head in a vain attempt to keep the weather out. Nights like this — cold, damp, and at the tail end of winter before Spring took a proper hold on the land — were truly miserable.

Your fingers were half frozen by the time you had fumbled the keys out of your pocket and clambered into your car, and you fired the old thing up with a hopeful grimace that it would start. It coughed to life and you uttered a little prayer of thanks to whichever gods or spirits out there might be listening. “Now if only you could do something about my pathetic love life as well,” you said to yourself as you reversed out of the parking space and headed towards the main road. “Wouldn’t that be perfect?”

Half an hour outside of town, your headlights flashed over something lying on the side of the road, sprawled halfway across the white line, and you swerved instinctively to avoid it. Mercifully there was nothing coming in the other direction, or you’d have caused a serious accident. Adrenaline spiked through you and you slammed on the brakes.

The flash of golden-red you’d glimpsed had told you it was a fox, but it had had its head raised and it had been looking at you with its eyes flaring yellow in the headlights, but the expression on its face had struck you to the core. It had looked… resigned. Like it knew you were going to hit it. Like it knew it was going to die.

“No,” you said through gritted teeth.

You had some old work gloves in the back of the car from when you’d taken a load of stuff from the garden to the dump a week before, so you put your hazards on and slid out of the driver’s side door and into the worsening storm. You cursed softly, squinting amid the stinging rain as it struck your face like little iron nails in the gusty night. You cleared a space in the trunk for the fox, spreading an old picnic blanket out and grabbing those thick leather gloves. No need to get rabies if the thing bit you before you could get it to an animal clinic in the morning.

You knew it was a stupid thing to do, that cars hit wildlife all the time, and you really weren’t equipped to deal with it, but you couldn’t just leave it there when it had looked so sad; black ears drooping, eyes wide, mouth slightly open.

Making your way along the edge of the deserted road with only your phone torch to light the way, you found the spot where the fox was still lying on the asphalt, and crooned softly to it. “Hey there,” you said, feeling a bit silly. “It’s ok. I’m not going to hurt you. It’s alright. Let me help you out… Let me take you home and see if I can take you to a vet in the morning…”

When your light found its back legs though, your heart sank. They lay limp and slightly twisted to one side. Its back had been broken by the impact with a vehicle.

“Oh baby,” you said, fighting sudden tears. “It’s going to be ok…” you lied.

Was it like with humans? Should it not be moved with a spinal injury? It would probably die anyway, or they’d recommend putting it down. You could at least take it in and keep it warm for its last few hours. When you knelt nearby, it just laid its cheek down on the cold tarmac, defeated, and let out a long, broken whimper.

“I’m going to pick you up, ok? Please don’t bite me. God, this is such a stupid thing to do…”

The fox licked its shiny black nose and just blinked slowly at you.

When it made no move to attack you or snap at you when you got nearer, you scooped it up and marvelled at how light it felt in your arms, its lovely, russet fur damp and matted.

“There,” you said, cradling it in your arms as you carried it back to your car. ‘Him’, not ‘it’, you saw when you set him down on the blanket and stroked his head and neck. He murmured softly, the sound almost a purr, and you swallowed thickly. He was so weak, you wondered if he’d even survive the journey home.

Five cars overtook you as you drove on after that, all beeping and honking their horns and flashing their lights to get you to go faster, but you absolutely would not be bullied into making this last car ride hell for the little, injured fox.

It didn’t take very long to set up a cosy den of blankets and towels in the kitchen by the radiator, and when you were satisfied that it was as comfortable as you could make it — and that any mess would be contained in an area with tile floors — you went back for him. He was still lying on his side, exactly as you’d left him, but his eyes seemed brighter and more focused, and his ears pricked up when you opened the trunk up and gazed down at him.

“Alright?” you asked and he gave a soft snuffle that was half-sneeze and half-chuckle. “You’re awfully perky for someone who’s just gone head-to-head with fast-moving traffic, buddy,” you smiled. “Maybe you will be alright. Ready to go inside?”

You had your gloves on but it didn’t feel like you really needed them, and when you settled him down on the veritable blanket fort inside, he heaved a great sigh and nuzzled his cheek against the fabric with a rumbling moan of contentment.

“You hungry?” you asked. “I don’t have much that’s fox-friendly, but I think there’s some ham in the fridge. Let me check.”

You offered him a saucer of water first, holding his delicate head up as he lapped steadily at it until he’d had his fill, and then you fed him little slivers of cooked ham which he took from your fingers like an absolute gentleman. “Aren't you dainty,” you chuckled as his small, sharp teeth pulled the next piece carefully free of your gloved hand.

He fixed you with such a flat, patronising look that you had to laugh.

The fox flicked an ear and looked away.

“Oh I’m sorry,” you said in a baby voice. “Don’t be grumpy with me, you precious thing… Here, have some more…”

He sneezed, then looked back at you and opened his mouth, head tipped back like a baby bird awaiting a worm.

“You’re not going to take it? You want me to feed you?”

He just stared at you without moving.

“Fine, your highness,” you said. “Anything for you.”

You let the piece drop into his tilted jaws, and then chucked him affectionately under the chin with your finger after he’d chewed and swallowed it.

He caught the leather of the glove’s fingertip in his teeth in a move that was so fast you didn’t even see it, but then tugged gently, insistently.

“I’m not taking this off,” you frowned. “You could have rabies for all I know.”

A tiny, rattling growl, like the world’s tiniest chainsaw, rumbled out of him and he folded his ears back indignantly before pulling on the glove again. Then he let go, his ears pricked about as far forward as he could get them, and he stared expectantly at you.

“No way, friend,” you said, and stood to put the empty ham packet in the rubbish bin.

With your back to the kitchen window, a golden light flooded the room, and for a wild moment, you thought someone was driving straight at the house, headlights blazing. When you whipped around though, you froze. The light was coming from… from the fox.

“The fuck…?”

Your heartbeat started to race, and you weren’t sure if the ringing sound was coming from your own blood pounding in your ears or from something else in the room. The brightness reached such an intense crescendo that you had to look away, shielding your eyes with the crook of your arm until the chiming noise stopped and you lowered it cautiously back down, blinking.

There, standing in the centre of the room, was a man.

You took a step back, fear crashing in on your senses.

You looked around for something you could use as a weapon, but a warm, gentle voice said, “Wait, I won’t hurt you. I swear it.”

Again, you went still, and after taking a steadying breath, you turned to face him again, wide eyed and shaking. “What the hell?”

“Not hell,” he smiled, and you saw that he had warm, tan skin and dark, golden eyes. His hair was a russet colour, and it fell in soft waves around his ears to the nape of his neck. He was slender, not especially tall, and he was quite possibly the most beautiful human being you’d ever laid eyes on. Except… there was still a kind of glow around him, like an aura, and his clothes looked like they belonged at a Ren Faire or something, though the dark green, belted and embroidered tunic was finely tailored and his dark brown boots looked soft and well worn. Tiny points of light, like fireflies, twisted slowly through the air surrounding him before vanishing into a miniature, glittering starburst.

“You’re not human,” you said, despite how crazy it sounded.

“No,” the man replied with a smile. “No, I’m not. But you didn’t know that when you took in an injured fox and cared for him.”

“You’re the fox,” you blurted without thinking.

“I am. Sort of,” he smiled, and you saw that he had perfect, white teeth, with slightly more pointed canines than humans usually did. “I’m a fox spirit. There are all sorts of us, and we’re known by many names all over the world, but the most famous is probably the ‘kitsune’ thanks to modern media.”

“Oh,” you said, only half aware that your vision was darkening around the edges until it was too late. The blood roared again in your ears and your knees went out from under you. The last thing you saw was a flicker of a frown on the man’s — kitsune’s — face before he lunged towards you with hands outstretched, and the world went black.

You stirred and found yourself lying on the sofa in your sitting room, with your feet raised about a foot or so off the seat cushion, and a stranger in green standing over you, holding your legs up by the ankle. The kitsune. The fox spirit.

“Got to say, that’s the first time someone’s actually fainted because of me,” he said with a smile, lowering your legs back down and stepping back. “Are you alright?”

“I fainted?” you asked stupidly, pushing yourself upright and swinging your legs slowly off the sofa and onto the ground. You swayed a little, but didn’t pass out again.

The fox spirit nodded, his lovely hair shining with strands of bronze and copper in the low light of the room, gold eyes glowing as if back-lit. “Thank you for saving me,” he said in a quiet, earnest baritone.

“Did I, though?” you asked, staring openly at him. “I mean… you’re… magic, right? I saw the way your legs were just… Your back was broken…”

“If you’d hit me with your car, or simply left me there for the next driver to do the same, then I wouldn’t have survived. We’re tough, and our magic can heal most things, but not that.”

“Oh.” And then your cheeks went hot and you looked at the carpet, “I’m sorry I baby-talked you like you were an actual animal.”

He laughed; a beautiful, bright sound like dry autumn leaves in clear sunlight. His head tipped a little way back and he looked truly delighted. “You weren’t to know,” he said, still chuckling. “And you’re not the first.”

“Oh,” you said, like a broken record.

From where he stood nearby, the fox spirit smiled at you and then inhaled deeply. “I… should go,” he said, his golden eyes turning a little sad. “Let you return to your life…”

“Wait,” you called from the sofa as he turned away. “What’s your name?”

He cast you a look over his shoulder and the smile he gave you was wry and amused. “You may call me Rowe.”

There was a nuance there that you weren’t understanding, but you told him your name in return, and he inhaled suddenly as if you’d struck him.

“You would part with your name so carelessly?” he whispered, brows pulling together into a frown of utter confusion. “You…” and then his expression cleared and his shoulders dropped. “You have never had dealings with the fae, have you?”

“The… fae?” you stuttered. “Like… fairies?”

The smile that replaced the frown was patient and amused in equal parts, and he sighed and shook his head. “Well, here’s your first lesson. Never tell your true name to a fae.”

Again, all the sound that escaped you was a dull, “Oh.”

He exhaled and approached you, and you tried not to lean back, to lean away from him. This whole night had gone from bad to utterly bizarre in the blink of an eye and you felt a little sick from the whiplash.

To make matters all the more confusing, the strange man knelt before you, sweeping his long, otherworldly tunic out of the way as he sank down onto one knee like he was going to propose or something, and he bowed his auburn head. “You saved my life without thought of debt or repayment, and in recognition of the gift, I give one of my own. I bind your True Name to my heart and hold it there in silence. I may never speak your True Name aloud unless you give me leave so to do. This I swear upon my spirit and my magic and my own True Name.”

The air in the room prickled like static and you had to fight the urge to see if your hair was standing on end. Goosebumps flickered along your arms and legs, and you drew in a shallow breath. “Anything else I should know about?” you asked faintly.

He looked up at you and shrugged. “We’re allergic to iron,” he suggested. “And we’re overly fond of cream and sweet cakes…”

“Sweet cakes,” you repeated thoughtfully, eyes drifting towards the kitchen where you’d bought a strawberry sponge cake just the day before, and an idea half-formed in your head.

Rowe smiled and your heart slipped sideways in your chest for a moment. He was so beautiful it was almost hard to believe he was really there and really standing in front of you. Well, technically he was kneeling like a knight in a fairytale. Fairytale indeed, you thought.

“You don’t have to go,” you whispered.

You were afraid of sounding childish, that if you spoke too loudly, he would think you desperate and would laugh at you, but all he did was tilt his head to the side the way he had done as a fox, and he nodded once. “Alright,” he said.

“I mean, don’t feel like you have to stay either,” you babbled, making a rather pathetic, flapping gesture in front of you with your hands. “I just meant… you’re welcome to stay if you want to. I was going to cook some dinner and watch a movie… eat cake for dessert. I thought… I thought since you’ve had kind of a rough day, you might like to just… chill out with me for a while.”

“May I help you cook?”

“If you… If you’d like to?” you said, standing carefully and holding your hand out to him to encourage him up off the floor.

He slid his warm fingers into your palm, and got to his feet with the grace of a prince, and offered you another smile. “I’d like that very much.”

Rowe stayed with you for a week. You explained that you had to go to work or you’d get fired, and when you came back on the first day, you expected him to have gone, leaving you wondering if the whole thing hadn’t been a hallucination brought on by the combination of a stressful week of work and the awful weather. But no, Rowe was there that evening, curled up as a fox on the impromptu bed you’d made by the radiator while the rain hurled itself at the window pane above him.

“Rowe, you don’t have to sleep on that!” you gasped, dropping your bag by the door and making him startle awake, ears pricked, tail fluffed up in rather adorable alarm.

In a flash of gold light, he was human again, standing beside the bed and smiling at you. “I don’t mind,” he chuckled. “It’s comfortable, and when I’m a fox, I don’t think in quite the same way as I do when I’m in this form. That’s how I got hit by the car in the first place… Please, don’t fret.”

You scowled at him, but relented, and asked him about his day. It seemed he’d spent most of it in his fox form, either out and about in the woods near your house, or sleeping by the warmth of the radiator.

“Didn’t you get bored here?” you asked.

“I could have done the housework for you,” he smirked. “But I thought that might have been an intrusion on your privacy.”

You laughed. “Thanks?”

After three days of sharing your space with him — he sleeping contentedly as a fox on the pile of blankets and you upstairs in your bedroom — you cleared your throat that evening as you sat together on the sofa like old friends, and said, “You know… uh… I… I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to come upstairs with me… I don’t want you to feel like you have to sleep down here like you’re a…” you trailed off, flushing hot with awkward embarrassment.

One russet-brown eyebrow climbed a little higher than the other. “… a what?”

“Like you’re some kind of pet… you know…”

Rowe laughed and, as it always did, your heart skipped a beat. His cheeks dimpled and Adam’s apple danced in his exposed throat and you ached. It felt like a long time since someone had touched you; since you’d been held, let alone kissed. He had a beautiful mouth, like he’d been made just to tempt you.

Some of your thoughts must have shown on your face because the laughter died in his throat and he fixed you with a look that was all concern. He murmured the name you’d given him permission to use when it was just the two of you and asked, “What’s wrong? I’m not upset about the animal comment,” he said, reaching for your forearm and trying to reassure you, but you shook your head. “Then what?”

Tears came unbidden to your eyes and you turned away. His hand felt hot through the fabric of your hoodie, but his grip was feather light. It would take nothing at all to pull yourself free, but the thought of it seemed overwhelming. “It’s nothing,” you choked, pressing your lips together and hoping he’d let the matter drop.

He didn’t. His eyes flared bright gold and he scowled at you when you risked a glance at him. “The fae can always taste a lie,” he said with the slightest growl to his voice. “And I can tell you’re hurting. We were laughing, and then… you weren’t. What changed?”

“It’s —”

A short, animal growl echoed in his throat but he bit it back, shut his mouth with a click of teeth, and glared at you.

“Ugh, fine,” you huffed, standing up and pacing across the room. “It’s been a long time since it’s been this easy around someone, ok? And it’s not every day that a handsome, cute guy with a great sense of humour shows genuine interest in me. I just wished, for like half a second, that you might be interested in me, but I get it. You’re not even human. I was nice to you. You probably feel obliged to stay here. You… You should probably go soon anyway.”

His expression turned from concerned to carefully neutral, and he stood. “If that’s the way you feel,” he said, “Then I can leave. But you should know that I’ve had a wonderful time with you, and…” he swallowed and took a breath, “I think you’re beautiful, through and through.”

“Please,” you scoffed. “Don’t bother trying to spare my feelings.”

“We can taste a lie, but we cannot tell one,” he said evenly. “I could not tell you that your clothes are yellow when they are not, nor that the sky is green, nor that you are not beautiful.”

You turned slowly around to look at him, and found him glowing gold again, those points of light spiralling lazily in the air around him. The slight shape of fox ears seemed to be picked out in two, brighter lines above his copper hair and behind him you saw a golden tail swaying back and forth. His eyes blazed bright like burnished bronze, and he was staring directly at you as he spoke.

“Oh.”

“I would very much like to stay with you, and share your bed, and, if you would let me, I would bring you pleasure too.”

Your breath hitched and you licked your lips. He even spoke like he was out of a fairytale. “You mean it?”

“Yes.”

“Ok,” you smiled.

Together, you tidied up the sitting room, and he followed you upstairs, still glowing softly, as if he were utterly contented and couldn’t help it.

Rowe undressed with you in your bedroom, baring a body like polished bronze; all lean lines and languid muscle, and you almost couldn’t look away. He asked if he could shower with you, and gently washed you and touched you, cupping your breasts and trailing his hands down your sides with reverent care. He passed his thumbs over your hardened nipples and kneaded your breasts until you gasped and tipped your head back, eyes closed. He teased between your legs with his fingertips, and then when you turned the shower off, he kissed your forehead. In a rush of magic, both your bodies were completely dry and your skin glowed softly with a thousand, dewy, golden sparkles. You beamed up at him, and he kissed you.

When he drew back, he led you by the hand into the bedroom and you lay down on the bed, heart racing. He knelt between your parted knees and you stared openly at his beautiful body. He looked like a statue come to life, and his cock had been more than half-hard ever since the shower, even as he turned his attention wholly on you and skimmed his palms up your thighs. You parted your legs a little wider for him and he bowed forward to kiss along your inner thigh until you shivered and lay back on the pillow behind you with a gasp.

He kissed you and tasted you, moaning softly before letting his tongue sweep up over you. He took your sensitive clit between his lips and kissed you there as well, and then he slid his arms under your thighs, lay down on his front, and you lost yourself to the pleasure of his mouth.

You lost count of how many times he made you come that night, with his tongue and with his fingers, but he never asked for more than you were ready to give.

“Come on me,” you murmured. You had no idea how well your current contraception would withstand a magical fae, but you were pretty sure you were safe with that, and when you asked, he nodded.

His fingers were slick from where he’d made you come, again, and he closed his hand around his cock with a low groan that dissolved into a gasp as he brought himself to the brink. He glowed gold again and you saw those ears made of light and the tail gleaming vividly behind him just as he spilled over your stomach with a muted grunt and another beautiful moan.

The golden light suffused the room, and you watched his expression as he came — open and vulnerable and achingly beautiful — and wished more than anything that he would stay.

When you woke in the morning, you expected to wake alone, but the warm pressure of Rowe’s body pressed against your back and the weight of his arm across your waist drew a little inhale of surprise from you. Apparently that was enough to wake him, because he kissed the back of your head and mumbled a sleepy good morning into your hair.

He was hard too, you realised, and you deliberately rocked your hips back against him.

Rowe let out a grunt and his hand shifted to your hips, drawing himself closer to you with a languid, answering roll of his hips.

“I don’t know if the fae have weekends,” you said, “But today is Saturday. I don’t have to go in to work…”

“Good,” he said. “I’m not sure I could let you go anywhere today after last night.” He said it with a laugh that told you he would let you do anything you liked, and you rolled over to face him. The softness in his smile brought one of your own to your lips, and he slid his hand down over your breast and then down between your legs.

Your eyes fluttered closed as he slipped his fingers easily inside you, and you rolled onto your back as he started a rhythm that would end in the kind of pleasure you had only ever dreamed of before him.

He smiled and kissed your cheek without his fingers once faltering, and whispered in your ear, “I’ll stay with you as long as you want me.”

You gasped and bucked, and almost missed his promise.

“I’ll stay with you forever.”

Thanks for reading this story, and I hope you’ll consider reblogging it (as well as leaving a like) if you enjoyed it, since that will help others find it.

Take care, and I hope you have a lovely day/night wherever you are, and whenever you read this.

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#kitsune #male kitsune #male fox spirit #fox spirit #fox shapeshifter #fae #shapeshifter #male kitsune x female reader #female reader #male fae x female reader #fae x reader #exophilia #monster boyfriend #kitsune boyfriend

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gugapuppy · 13 days ago

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Abortion - Part 4 (A!Ghost x O!Soap)

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

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In today chapter we have, Angst and a little bit of Hurt no confort.

CW: Implied abortion

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The thud of Soap's feet against the marble floor echoed through the corridors of the clinic, one of his hands tightly squeezing his thigh and the other squeezing Gaz's hand. The two of them had been waiting for about fifteen minutes, and Soap was afraid that if he waited any longer, breakfast would spill out of his mouth.

Finally, after two minutes, a nurse called out to them, she was similar to Gaz, only with longer hair and a little shorter, she had a sweet smile, and as Soap imagined, Gaz introduced her as his sister, he spoke her name but Soap couldn't pay attention as he was immersed in his nervous thoughts.

However, a sweet scent of grape and dahlia gradually calmed him down, and soon Soap realised that it was Gaz's sister. An omega just like him. She gave him a smile and then went on her way, leading him into the consulting room while Gaz waited outside.

After sitting down in one of the room's cool leather chairs, he looked directly at Gaz's sister, who sat opposite him behind a desk full of papers, pens and a laptop. After opening something on the laptop, she turned to Soap and then asked. "Very well, Mr Mactavish, could you tell me your reasons for seeking my assistance?"

With a deep breath, Soap clasps his hands together and begins to explain. "In my last heat, I shared with my... partner, and I don't remember us using a condom. After a couple of weeks I started to feel sick, but when I noticed some of my symptoms I decided to take my doubts into my own hands, I took three pregnancy tests and they were all positive."

"Hm, I see, and your partner, how did he react to the news?" She made a face as if she already knew the outcome of the question.

Soap swallowed hard, looking anywhere but at the doctor. "He... didn't react well after I told him, he pushed me aside and has been ignoring me and running away from me, and I," he chokes and sobs, remembering the little growls every time he got close to Ghost. "I can't take it anymore."

The doctor looks at him expectantly and sadly. "He said this child wasn't his, and to go back to the guy I slept with behind his back, but I never cheated on him! I love him, and I'm not a cheater! But he wouldn't listen to me!" He sobs harder, fingers trembling and tingling.

She writes something down on her laptop for a moment, letting Soap compose himself before continuing. "I understand how you must be feeling, and I'm sorry about that, I imagine you'd never cheat on him, my little brother says how devoted you are. Really admirable. But why did you decide to come and try to carry out this operation?"

Soap puts his hand over his eyes, squeezing them with his palm, then lowers them to his mouth. "I don't want... this child to grow up in a home where there's only me, my mum went through that with me and I know how hard it was for her to raise a child on her own."

He remembers the nights his mum came home tired and collapsed on the sofa, how as a teenager Soap did everything for her at home to take a burden off her back, hearing her cry and beg relatives to lend her money when the bills got high.

The way she held him back when Soap presented himself as Omega, worrying that he would go through the same thing as her. And damn, she was right about that.

"And besides, I don't want to retire from the army just yet, I don't have any other qualifications to work outside the army, nor one... someone to help with everything." Soap leans back in his chair, sniffling and crossing his arms, trying to hold himself together even though he's slowly falling apart.

"Right, your motives are understandable, thank you for your candour." She searches through the papers on the table until she finds one in particular. "Now, I'm going to need you to listen carefully" She read a few lines before continuing. "There are some post-operative risks that could affect you in the future."

This made Soap's heart squeeze and his hand grip tighter against his shoulder. "Like what, Doc?" Soap asked, breathing shakily.

"Omegas that have an abortion tend to have their fertility lowered by 55%, meaning that you'd have problems getting pregnant in the future, your heats would be unbalanced and you wouldn't have a proper cycle, and since you're not mated to anyone, your glands would be affected, causing your scent to fail."

This could affect Soap greatly if he decides to have a baby in the future, but not removing this... 'thing' will make him connect with Simon forever. Is it worth going through that pain?

After two minutes of silence, Soap finds his voice again. "What are the methods for the operation?"

The doctor doesn't comment at all on the subject of the risks that Soap has ignored or on the smell of stress in the room. "There are two methods, one medical and one surgical. The medical one, we provide pills so that the abortion happens naturally in a few hours, and we also have the surgical one, in which you would be sedated while we surgically remove the foetus."

"By any chance... in the surgical method I would be unconscious while you...?"

The doctor nods. "Usually that's what we do, often the process can be traumatic with the pill." She turns to her laptop and types something in. "We can do an ultrasound to see how many weeks pregnant you are, in case that relieves anything."

Unconsciously Soap nods, he wants to get a glimpse of what his family might have been like.

After they left the room, Soap spotted Gaz waiting outside and asked him to accompany him while he did the ultrasound.

After the machine was set up and the gel applied, the doctor began to search, and in a few minutes Soap finally saw his little pup on the screen, as small as an apple, his hand squeezing Gaz's tightly, making the man tremble, but hold on tightly, showing that he was there for Soap.

Seven weeks. Seven weeks is how long Soap had been connected to this little thing, four of which he had practically been left to fend for himself by the person he loved more than life itself.

In Soap's mind, he begged and pleaded for forgiveness for his little boy who would never see the light of the sun or the blue of the sky, forgiveness for the love Soap couldn't give him, for his shitty father who abandoned him.

Soap didn't realise when Gaz started hugging him as he shook hard and tears flowed out, choking on sobs and snot, staining his best friend's shoulder.

At the end of the day, Soap left with a signed form and an appointment for the operation.

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I've had to do a lot of research on the subject in order to maintain coherence, I'm not a doctor, so if I've made a mistake feel free to correct me.

One more thing, in situations like these, the doctor who is treating you will recommend a professional psychologist to help you before any decision is made, if the patient wishes. You can also withdraw from the operation if you want to, even if you've signed the papers.

Stay safe, and wait for the next part, which will be about Ghost.

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allu-viia · 5 months ago

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DEAR TO ME ,,

𝑲𝒖𝒓𝒂𝒔 x gn!reader Rating: T Type: Fluff, little angst in the middle (minimum) Word Count: 2.4k [ See bottom for A/N and notes ]

Prologue: Drunkards are often left at Kuras' door, and so were you.

It was a normal night really, you had come back from your daily errands, tried to discover more of the Senobium as well as your curse and retired to the Wet Wick for a nice drink before your rightfully earned rest.

So how did you end up like this? Seriously, how? At the door of Kuras' clinic, probably drunk out of your mind. Hell, that one drink must've turned in 4 or 5 more, Leander knew how to be persuasive. How did the doctor even come to mind? Were you hoping for a remedy to sober up? A quieter place to rest? You blinked, your mind blank. Amongst the fog caused by the alcohol, coherent thoughts were still present.

"I'm just gonna piss him off aren't I" you said to yourself, staring at the wooden door before dragging your gaze at each of your sides. Maybe it was still too early in the night to start seeing passed out drunkards outside his clinic, but you didn't mind, at all. It was actually better for you. "What am I even doing here..." you grimaced, gently slapping your cheeks to gather your thoughts.

"Why am I even thinking so hard about this? If I'm bothering him he'll just send me away, it's not like he's not capable of doing that." Indeed, why were you worrying so hard about a man you met a few weeks ago...or did you knew him for longer? Time flew. Despite that, you got close to the doctor in question, your relationship developing and forming something that was more than a normal acquaintance. You had a bond with him, a bond you cherished.

"Screw this." you looked up at the door, raising one arm and ready to knock. As your knuckles made contact with the wood you heard a clicking sound and the door opened, as on cue. Your eyes snapped up, meeting his own. There he was, Doctor Kuras, in all his mysterious elegance, looking down at you with a placid expression. "Y/n" he called, acknowledging your presence at the ungodly hour. "Kurasss" you responded, dragging the 's' in a long slur "you, surprised me" your raised arm fell to your side again. "So did you" his eyes narrowed, a small smile crept on his face. "How did you...uhm, figure out I was out here?" — "I heard mumbling and couldn't concentrate properly on my reading, so I investigated".

Fuck, you did bother him afterall. "I apologize, I didn't really think this through-" — "You're drunk" he interrupted you, his brows furrowed. "No?" you swayed, your hand flying up gripping the wall to stabilize yourself. "No?" he repeated, his eyes closing. "No" — "Y/n." his voice firm. You weren't doing a great job at keeping the conversation light-hearted, was he mad? Bothered? "Come inside" he held the door open for you. You stared forward, your body had gotten comfortable standing where it was, and Kuras picked up on that. Walking beside you, he placed a hand on your lower back and gave you the slight push you needed to unfreeze from your position. Then you followed him inside.

"You can sit on the bed" he stated, walking over his doctor stuff, you knew the specific name, but couldn't bother to remember it at the moment. You took a seat on the firm bed, looking at your lap, waiting and thinking, again, why you were there. The furniture around brought you back at the start of this insane journey.

"...Y/n? Have this" his silky voice reached you, godness... sometimes you thought that the same voice was enough to put you to sleep. "Thanks" you smiled as you brought the small cup to your nose. "Smells like liquor" ...was Kuras trying to worsen your drunken state? Was he even capable of that? You earned an almost full smile from the tall man. "Does it?" his eyes squinted in a fox-like stare. You shrugged and downed the drink.

"FUCK" you cursed before coughing, a few strangled noises came out of you as you wiped your mouth on your sleeve. "Bitter, bitter, bitter" you coughed. Kuras still had that smile plastered on his face, the now empty cup in his hands. "Your reaction is completely understandable, most people react that way" he blinked slowly, admiring your response. "But it worked regardless of the unpleasant taste" he added walking towards his counter to put down the cup and to tide up a few small vials. "What even was that?" you briefly stuck your tongue out, the bitter taste lingering. "Felwort" — "..." sensing your confusion he explained further: "A flower, more specifically a plant." His head turned to the side to look at you. "I don't feel less drunk" — "It wasn't to sober you up, it was to make you react" — "So you turned me from a tired drunk to a fiesty drunk?" You heard an irregular breath coming out of him, similar to a snort, a very quiet one. "If you want to put it that way, go ahead”. You shook your head and blinked a few times, your sight was still blurred and you felt tipsy as hell, but Kuras was right, you weren't on the brim of passing out anymore... you wouldn't have minded going to sleep tho.

"You're always helping me..." your voice was a whisper in the quiet room, still, Kuras heard you perfectly. He turned around, glasses in hand. "It's my job as a doctor, I told y-" — "That's not what I meant." you met his eyes.

"You're always here for me, you were here when I first arrived in Eridia...you saved me, you were and still are here when I need guidance, you even are here when I don't wanna eat my meals alone" you rubbed your forehead, your head hurt, and you weren't even hungover at that moment. Kuras stayed silent, a pensive gaze veiling his expression. "I'm just constantly wondering how you haven't betrayed me yet" as your eyes trailed to the ground, your face scrunched up in an angry expression. It hurt. Drunk words are sober thoughts. You were scared, scared like crazy.

You couldn't afford to find comfort in anything, as you were used to having that thing taken away by those who you dared to trust.

"Please don't betray me, please be always here," you mumbled to yourself, your eyes glossing. The three stages of a drunk person: tired, aware, and sad... it was almost funny, you would've laughed at the situation if you weren't the person dealing with it.

Kuras' footsteps were light as a feather, silent, elegant like him. He stood in front of you, leaving his glasses at your side on the bed. You didn't look up, and when the taller man understood that, his hand gently tilted your chin up and made you look at eachother. At the sight of his expression, your eyes slowly opened wide.

Brows furrowed, lips slightly parted, that one single expression held so much sorrow that you felt your heart squeeze in your chest. His eyes boring into yours, eyes filled with delicate worry. You didn't care if Kuras himself didn't care about you in reality or that maybe all of his actions were a made-up act. He was worried about you at that moment, and that was enough. You wanted to live the moment. Maybe he just pitied you, but you were craving so much comfort that you would've accepted any form of it. Even if that comfort was just eye contact. Especially if it was from him.

His golden eyes scanned your face, his hand slid up and rested on your cheek, thumb wiping a tear in the most gentle way possible. His lips slowly twisted in a smile.

"I won't betray you y/n" he said. "You're dear to me, so very dear"

You stared at him, dazed. Did he mean it? You felt your face grow warmer, but not enough to make it noticeable. Fucking doctor. Fucking charming doctor. In your drunken tiredness you ended up resting your head against Kuras' chest, in a half-hug. One of his hands still on your cheek, the other gently stroking your back to calm down your silent sobs. He waited for you. He always waited for you. And you loved that, you almost didn't believe it.

Half an hour later, there you were. Again... How did you end up like this? On one of the clinic's couches, curled up under your own cloak (gifted by the doctor himself), half asleep with your head resting on Kuras' lap. The same man caressing your hair in slow motions, waiting for you to fall asleep in his care. He promised you that it was fine, he would've never suggested it if he didn't want to do it. "I think it will make you feel better, don't you agree?" he had said.

Cheeky doctor. You opened your eyes lazily, your head twisting to be able to see his face. He was already watching you, a small smile adorning his features. He smiled often with you. Maybe you were funny to him. "Kuras..." you wanted to thank him, to tell him his eyes were the best thing to look at, that you would've spent hours around him, that he was insanely charming, and that you never wanted to see a trace of worry on his face ever again... drunk thoughts, huh? But everything trailed off, your voice overcome by tiredness. He chuckled, clearly this time. "Goodnight y/n" he caressed your forehead. "Night" you responded, and let yourself slip into sleep.

...

Morning. Sun. Brightness. Noise. Pain, a lot of it. You groaned, loudly. Your head was killing you. And so was your stomach, it felt like burning. Figures... you thought. You knew you drank last night. You knew that you saw Leander and Kuras at a certain point, and you knew about an extremely, disgustingly, bitter drink you had.

You rolled on whatever surface you were on, shielding your eyes from the light as you waited to decently regain consciousness. You were in your room, in your bed. You could hear the usual ruckus on the ground floor of the Wet Wick. At least you weren't in some weird alley.

"Some cold water will help" you said to yourself as you padded towards the bathroom. You took a good look at yourself in the mirror, you didn't look as bad as you felt. That was good. Your bandages came slightly loose, you frowned. You needed to change them anyway... You took the cloths off your arms, trying not to pay attention at their appearance, one you still haven't gotten used to. You cupped your hands together and filled them with water, looking at it rippling your golden scars. Then you washed your face until satisfied, small droplets running down and between the curves of your face. You went on like usual, washing, dressing, bandaging your arms, tidying up the bedroom as best as you could, and heading down to the counter for a short breakfast.

"Look at you my friend! Goodmorning" you heard a familiar shout, Leander. "Hey" you offered him a tired smile. "How are you feeling?" — "Everything spins, what did you make me drink yesterday night?" — "Ah— heh... I don't remember either, lost track of my own drinks as well" an embarassed blush rose on his face. "You're awful" you both laughed at your statement. "You don't seem to be doing bad tho" you took notice of his unusual clearness, he was supposed to be as hungover as you were. "That's because I have my own hangover remedy, it's a simple drink really" — "Should I trust you?" you raised an eyebrow. "No, you shouldn't."

He stared directly in your eyes.

"But!" he clapped his hands, startling you. "You've got my word on this one, I'll give you just my —most genuine— hangover drink" he winked before getting to work. Leander was a funny guy. Always so weirdly cheerful. You trusted him, even if his jokes about the fact that you shouldn't were extremely numerous. After a few minutes a cup slid in front of your hands, steam came out of it. "Here, tell me if you like it" the mage sat in front of you, behind the counter. You took the glass, and brought it to your nose. "Smells like honey" you took a sip and stuck your tongue out. "It's bitter". Leander's eyes widened "Oh I'm sorry, have some sugar". And then the two of you fell quiet as you drank the 'magic liquid'.

"You know... you scared me yesterday night" Leander rubbed his neck. "Huh? Why?" — "I was cleaning the counter and managed to sober up enough to help out serving. Kuras suddenly arrived with you, completely knocked out, in his arms. I thought the worse, maybe a soulless attacked you."

What?

"Wait, Kuras... in his arms?" your eyes widened and your muscles tensed. "Yeah, he explained me the situation and asked me where your room was, 'suppose he tucked you in"

So, that's what happened. Your face heated up, your cheeks and ears turning red. Not only from embarrassment. "Oh heavens..." you covered your face, Leander laughed out loud. "Cheer up! The doctor did us both a favour, don't know what I would've done if one of my guest suddenly disappeared" He patted your shoulder. "I have work to do now, but I'll see you later y/n!”. And just like that he was gone, a few bloodhounds on his tail.

Kuras. Kuras carried you back to bed, where did he even find you? Your mind raced as you stepped back to your room, if the alcohol was no longer torturing your head then your thoughts were. When you opened the door, you noticed something that you missed before, a small note on your bedside table. You skipped towards it, curious, you recognised the handwriting…doctor handwriting. You read the note with attention.

"Feel better soon." signed Kuras. Cheeky doctor.

You decided to keep the note, it made you smile, a lot. You never thought that you'd have ended up drunk in Kuras' care. Never. Leander? Sure, it always happened. Ais? Meh could happen. But Kuras wasn't an option, up until yesterday. "...that doctor" you bit your lip, trying to suppress a stupid smile. You made a mental note to thank him next time the two of you would've met, maybe even buy him something. But for now, staring at the note was all you could do.

Little did you know that Kuras didn't leave you wthout a parting gift, one last stroke to your cheek and a tender kiss on the forehead. He liked you more than you thought.

A/N: Uploading this fanfiction took years off my life. English is not my first language, so I'm sorry if there are some errors I didn't notice! Thanks for reading, your attention is immensely appreciated ❤️

Notes: Felwort or Gentian root is an herb native to Europe. The health benefits of gentian root include improved digestion, appetite, blood sugar, and other benefits. It's extremely bitter. Also this fanfiction was created by basing myself on Kuras' new expression!

⎼ Alluviia

Dividers by @cafekitsune

#touchstarved vn #touchstarved fanfic #touchstarved game #touchstarved #touchstarved kuras #kuras #ts kuras #ts #red spring studios #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #fluff fanfic #x reader #kuras x reader #gender neutral reader

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