#Amy and Blazer | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

amyriadofleaves · 4 months ago

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୨ kenji sato — old habits die hard. ˚୧

synopsis : kenji sato breaks under the weight of new, unfamiliar eyes ─ foolishly confessing his love to the public. you, the one that got away, are stupid enough to fall into his trap. will you two ever be able to just be friends?

⌗ pairing : kenji sato x fem!reader ; warnings : alcohol consumption, sexual innuendos ; word count: 3k ; angst!!!

KENJI SATO, newly recruited, renowned and beloved baseball player of The Giants, is being interrogated to the bone.

“Come on, relationships have nothing to do with my career,” he sneers with a curl of the lip, guise of unease betrayed by the incessant movement of his knee concealed by the navy blue tablecloth.

A woman, clad in a blazer, follows up with her question. “They have everything to do with your career, Mr Sato. You return to Tokyo only weeks before your championship with the Dodgers. Why?”

The silent, yet deafening clicks of cameras give Kenji a pocket of air to swallow hard, clearing his throat into his fist. Perhaps it’s the heat of the moment, but he doesn’t realise that the baritone of his voice had been caught by the mic, blaring through the speakers. Not that it was his intention to shut the whole room up, but he’ll take his victories.

Kenji eyes his PR team in the back of the room, giving them the look they’ve been trained countless times to know he’s about to make a dumb move — after many close misses, perhaps this is the blow he deserves to take. “Ms. Wakita, right? Ever associate something you love with someone you’ve loved? Well — I’m simply here to feel a little closer to that someone. I hope you understand, Ms. Wakita, that I wish to not elaborate any further.”

He shoots a small smirk at the camera airing this conference live, hoping with some semblance of his untouched ego that you’d see it.

Ami Wakita eyes him with an amused look, penning down every word of his down to a T. Kenji Sato, sitting on the other side of the room, takes a generous gulp of water before plastering that shit eating grin that glitters amongst the sea of camera flashes. “That’s all for tonight, everyone. Keep your eye out for the Ken Sato on the field.” A subtle wink at the camera goes unnoticed by the man behind it, but certainly not by you.

Because nothing gets past you.

You chuckle nervously at the man seated next to you, the silhouette of your ex tracing every inch the projector can cover. Sure, word had spread about Ken Sato returning to Tokyo, but you thought it an utter sham; whether it was in the States, or home in Japan, gossip columns would and still will fight tooth and nail for ways of profit. And you, of all people, should know this well. Though hard to admit, his face swamped you with a multitude of emotions your trip to the bar was supposed to help with, but little Ken just had to ruin the fun — along with the pleasure your distraction, a white, tall, and borderline conceited man was supposed to provide you with.

Looks like that’s going to have to be another day, then.

“You a fan of that guy?” the man asks, brusquely pointing to the live broadcast.

Adjusting your top, you sceptically analyse the way his eyes dip to your chest, and your brows furrow as his gaze trails lower, and lower… “More than a fan actually.” your voice comes out meek, and you think this is how you broadcast your lie to the world. But your audience is a tipsy man with a shell for a brain, so what threat does he bring to you?

More than a fan, huh? It was definitely more than that. From late night drinks to advancements you swear on your whole being to not speak of, you think you’d consider yourself more than that.

Frankly, with no terms to address the man except for using the term ‘man’, you know nothing about the drunk specimen in front of you — and he knows nothing of you, either.

He scoots closer to you, arms rested against the bar table. The stifling scent of his cologne does nothing to drown the beer’s breath with every syllable coming out his mouth. “Well if you’re the fan you claim to be, how have you not recognised me yet?”

You almost scowl at his cockiness. It’s even worse than Ken’s! God. “Well, unfortunately, I only focus on the important players. ” Your words come out muffled as you take a shot of vodka, sliding it across the table to request for another to add to your tab. It’s your fifth, and you haven’t even started feeling fuzzy yet; this is going to be a long night.

The man, on the other hand, seems piss drunk — and given your observations, this is only his third shot.

Lightweight, you note, his flushed cheeks and lidded eyes a spectacle for sore eyes. You feel your heart constrict into itself; for a second, in your stupor, his face flits to Ken's. Pulling away from him, you turn your head to the couple sat in a booth to divert your attention, but it only makes matters worse — so you resort to shutting the world out.

“I could show you how important I am if you’d come over to my place,” the man mewls, slithering his hand onto your thigh. It’s awfully easy to catch his bluff, and you certainly aren’t buying that awful sneer.

A nervous, polite laugh leaves your lips before you swat his arm away with a chastising glare. “I think you’ve got this wrong. I don’t think you know how important I am.”

He begins to giggle, and he keeps on giggling until he’s caught by a snort. You can’t help but grimace. There are many things you aren’t sure of, but you know for a fact that there was absolutely no shot that this man was an athlete. “And just who might you be?”

A satisfied smile tugs at the sides of your lips. “That just gives you your answer. I’m too important for you, and our conversation is over.”

You grab your purse and slam a hundred dollar bill onto the table, swiping the man’s shot and downing your own shot and his at once. The buzz of alcohol numbs the burn as it travels down your throat.

He grabs your wrist with a quivering grip. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Haven’t you heard? I am the most demanded model in this city. So if you think you can win me over with sweet talk, you’re wrong.” You wrench the hold he has on you, and backhand him (though the swing is terribly calculated).

See, if you were sober, you would’ve held him to it — that he owed you. But with seven shots of vodka now finally working its way through your system, you let it slide.

Your stilettos click angrily against the marble floor, and you walk out with two lies.

The first: You weren’t at the bar for a good time.

The second: You definitely aren't a model at the biggest agency in Tokyo.

The bell tied to the handle of the door jingles as you storm out (with a concerning amount of difficulty) of the bar with your thumb out on the road.

“Taxi!” you shout, to no fruition.

After ten minutes of nothing, an orange taxi stops and swerves to your end of the sidewalk.

Stumbling into the taxi with nothing to show for the decorum you had seven shots ago, you slip off your heels and hug the headrest of the taxi driver. “To the Sato Residence please,” you command — or so you think you do — before keeling to the side and vomiting up your dinner.

“Ken. I don’t think that was a very good idea,” the supercomputer Mina reprimands, robotic arms reaching for her spherical head.

Ken maintains an unbothered pose with his arms crossed. “But it sure as hell was an amazing one.” He curtly taps the bottom of his couch with his heel to reach for a drink in his mini fridge, only for it to shine with the enthusiasm of seven coconut water cans.

“Ugh Mina,” he groans, sliding a clammy hand down his face. “Do you not have anything else?”

“Would you like it if I gave you water instead?”

This only spurs him to move both his hands to cover his face in what Mina detects is shame. She floats closer to him, the light of her eyepiece a stinging pain against the backdrop of dimness. “Is something wrong? I detect you are going through… some stress.”

“Yes Mina, yes I am! And it’s not ‘cause I just outed being in love with someone in Tokyo —” He trails off, digging himself into a deeper hole when hit with the realisation that Tokyo, out of the cities in Japan, is a small world of connection. Everyone knows everyone. Shit.

She reaches for a can of coconut water with a metallic arm and opens it, offering it to him. Ken, coming empty for excuses, accepts the drink, wincing as he sips it. “It’s ‘cause I still — nevermind.”

“Because you still what, Ken?”

“Goddamnit Mina. Do I have to spell it out for you? I still miss this girl!” He thinks of you and almost makes himself sick at the thought of you with another man; and for a sudden, lurching moment, he wishes he never had an imagination at all.

He slumps into his seat, peeking through the slits of his fingers, admittedly curious to see what the robot’s reaction to his statement would be.

Ken visibly wilts when she doesn’t move a muscle — or robotic limb, or whatever.

“Would you like for me to contact her?” “Yeah no, no.” He shakes his head, but stops mid-action. “Wait — how do you know who I’m talking about? I don’t think I’ve ever talked about her, have I?”

She floats around him as if in orbit, and pokes at his head. He whines out an ow! “You have. When severely intoxicated. Which is why I’m not giving you anything other than coconut water.” “God save me.”

And that He does, when Ken’s moping is interrupted with a ding of the entrance.

You rethink what you’ve known about yourself, and it’s that you certainly cannot take seven shots of vodka, and that it leads you to doing stupid things: like walking half a kilometre of an automatic bridge just to have it out with Ken Sato.

Any normal person would have walked the distance in less than five minutes, but it took you twenty. Still, in your eyes, pretty impressive. You give yourself a pat on the back; but for some reason, the intention is off and you’ve just slapped yourself in the chest. Way to go.

The alarm to his house doesn’t blare when you heave the gate open. Woah, since when did it get so heavy? You giggle to yourself, the prospect of no alarms going off an unimportant matter in the midst of your exhilaration.

Stumbling to his doorstep, your heels click sloppily on cement — confident stride muffled by the slurring of words you never knew existed in the first place. You feel your way to the entrance, sliding your hands across a bike — his bike. If your sight wasn’t blurred, you could spot a polaroid of a familiar face taped just a little to the left of the speedometer.

Your wandering hands lose hold of the vehicle and feel for the doorbell, and clumsy you misses the mark. Bullseye, your Ken would say, glimmering with all the love in the world when your arrow proved as accurate as your aim.

Leaning against a pillar, you almost slip forward before the door opens just in time. But instead of meeting marble, you meet the warmth of an embrace.

Seeing him in the flesh stirs something terribly nostalgic you could definitely use for vomiting in the taxi again.

“Hey, Ken Sato, how’s it going?” you mumble with your gestures sluggish — and ultimately, very miscalculated; so your attempt at sounding sober goes to waste the second you bump head first into the man who completely did not expect to see you.

Ken stumbles backward in both surprise and the sudden addition of weight on either side of his arms; and to him, you sound like a garbled mess. But above all, you’re still the same girl who cussed him out the first time you met.

You try to walk, but the attempt goes to shit, and you see a floaty thing manifest a bed at Ken’s own command. Crazy stuff. You almost fall for Ken’s offer to carry you, but you’re not one to fall back into bad habits.

When you sag onto the mattress, you see him crouch down so your face is level with his. “[Name], what happened?”

“You happened, Ken. Finally found me worthy enough to come back for? I saw your little speech about love at that press conference,” you seethe, ignoring how your words end in a quiver. Brimming, hot tears, betray whatever semblance of composure an intoxicated woman can hold for herself. Suck it up, you tell yourself — because if you needed to cry, it would not be in front of the reason.

This mantra doesn’t seem to hold for any longer than you think it will, because you finally find something that makes you break: his own, crestfallen curl of the lip.

“Hey, hey,” he starts, hesitantly reaching to wipe the tears staining your face. But seeing you after two years, such intimacy came at a price: your complacency. Would she want it? Want me? He thinks, eyes diverted so he wouldn’t have to bear the sight of someone he never knew as messy. Someone he never knew to break.

He, against all his strongest desires, retracts his hand. In some act of desperation, in some act of needing to feel him, you take his hand and press it against your cheek. He brushes the tears pooling around his thumb in slow circles, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. You wouldn’t consider his words nothing, not after he mutters a quiet, incomprehensible ‘I won’t leave you. Not this time.’ under his breath.

Nothing gets past you.

“But you lied. And I believed you. Over and over —” you hiccup, your hand over your mouth to muffle your cries.

His voice softens a notch, and it's so subtle someone as wasted as you wouldn’t notice, but you find you notice it more than you would’ve with a clearer mind. “I know, I know. And I’m sorry.”

“Are you really? Because the last time I checked, you were the one who left me behind.”

He doesn’t reply.

He knows he should take your words with a grain of salt, and against his better judgement, he doesn’t. To be frank, he never did. Every word from your lips dripped with golden honey, and he still, against his better judgement, savours every last drop.

You choke up on a sob, and Ken rushes to trace lines from the cliff of your shoulder bone to the very tips of your fingers. It was something he used to do — a little joke between the two of you. Something you shook off as a placebo, and something he insisted helped you with your anxiety.

Or rather, the only way he knew how.

It was — and still is, the only way for him to level the wrinkles of your face, just so he could at least see you soothe in his arms — for some morbid part of him crunches up at the thought of this being the last time he sees you; in this state, delirious, yet, for lack of better words: painfully right.

“I just — I just wish we could go back to being us,” you croak, reaching to trace the fine lines of his face. Your touch blindly feels for the familiar: the dip from his jawline to the nape of his neck, the scar soldered into his cheekbone, the softness of his lips.

All rhyme or reason (if there was any to begin with) blurs into the fray, and the war raging in your chest comes to a standstill, docile in nature. You feel his Adam's apple bob against your touch, and your hand travels, and travels, until met with your comfort against the cacophony of searing voices.

The approach is slow and borderline sloppy — though you can’t expect much of it. It’s just how things were with the two of you. Your lips hover against his, before you give up everything you’ve ever believed in for a crash against his lips, the taste of vodka weaving into his veins (except that it’s not the vodka, it’s very obviously you).

He rounds around the curve of the bed to feel you, and you let his hands wander. Some part of you screams in reprimand — that for some inexplicable reason, you’d regret this in the morning. But why would you regret having everything you’ve wished for in the very palm of your hands?

That is exactly why.

The high is stripped from you like an angel of its wings, and you pull away, eyes puffy and lips swollen. “I — we can’t do this.”

He pulls away, brows knitted. “We can’t and yet we still are doing this! [Name], what is it you really want?” His eyes search yours for an answer, before he gives you that look again.

You smile, and this time, it’s beautifully real. “I don’t know. But it has to stop. We’re a mess, can’t you see?”

“Yes, we are. But that was our thing.” That is our thing, a voice inside him screams, but the words die on his tongue. Again, and again, his words fail him like he does a lost game.

Everything around you is a swirl of blocked colour, but you squint through the grain and push him away with a light nudge of his chest against your palms.

“And it isn’t gonna stop until one of us does,” you say, biting your lip from going back on your word.

“We can make it work. I promise,” he begs, reaching for your hands.

In an attempt to shrug off your daze, you rake a hand through your hair and reach for your purse that had fallen in the heat of it. “We loved each other, Ken. But I think we should stop convincing ourselves we still do.”

His eyes flit to the floor, and his tousled hair falls against his nose. And to a certain pair of people an arbitrary moment ago, they would’ve thrown themselves against all propriety upon white bed sheets with sun peeking through the blinds, and your fingers would’ve combed through strands of tousled, jet black hair that appeared honey like in the dawn.

Through the haze of your high, you catch a glimmer of hope you’ve never seen him have. “Please, you’re still drunk. Let us discuss this when both of us are in our heads, yeah?”

Tilting your head to the side, it is your only sign of complacency that he recognises amidst it all. Through your insobriety, your smile can only tell him just as much:

This is never gonna end, and we both know it so.

a/n: hello hello!!! please excuse the sappiness i've written the bulk of this at times where I shouldntve been awake GOD I blame it on the fact that this guy actually consumes every morsel of my SOUUL

#kenji sato x reader #ken sato x reader #kenji sato x you #ken sato #kenji sato #ultraman rising #ken sato x y/n #kenji sato x y/n #ultraman rising ken sato #ultraman rising kenji sato #ultraman

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missamyrisa2 · 1 month ago

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Miss Amy and the Product Test (Parts 1 and 2)

I was just thinking about this story and realizing that with my old tumblr getting deleted the only place part 1 exists is on dA. So here it is, with the second part added as well to keep it all in one post ~ and as usual I couldn't help but go back through and spruce up a few parts and add some additional hottnesssss~ <33

After the incident at the library, Amy was in serious trouble. Too many people knew her secret, too many were looking to exploit it. And when she overheard the maintenance crew outside her apartment talk of bringing the tools with extra soft quills, she decided it was time to get away for a while. The temporary job she accepted was a cinch – product testing for a cosmetics lab far outside of town.

Following the brief pleasantries, Amy’s mind was at ease. The company specialized in lipsticks and lip glosses. Except she wouldn’t be trying them on, other testers would be trying them and she would receive a kiss so that the reaction in her body could be measured. Unusual, but an afternoon of kissing seemed easy and non-tickly enough. Whisked into a pristine testing room, Amy was sat in a chair and waited for the rest of the group to arrive.

The footfalls of countless heels filled the hallway. Amy broke into a slightly uncomfortable smile. She didn’t expect a whole parade of ladies. One by one they filed in, all looking especially corporate save for three lab techs dressed in white coats. Amy sheepishly fingered her casual short-sleeved black cardigan, which sat atop a blank tank top with crimson flower patterns. She looked at skirts and business pants, then glanced at her girly jean shorts, topped with a thick black belt and a big silver flower buckle.

“Sorry I’m underdressed” She mumbled and blushed.

The ladies exchanged glances, suppressing grins. “Don’t worry yourself dear, it’s not as though we gave you a dress code. And…that outfit is actually perfect.” A woman in a bright pink blazer said, assessing Amy with a piercing gaze. Clearly the leader of the test, she began motioning to the techs and directed a perky blonde lady over to Amy.

“We’ll start with pink rose. Please relax and give us your honest reactions.”

“Wait, wh-mppph” Amy’s question was cut off suddenly by the woman placing a hand on her cheek and pulling Amy in for a deep kiss. Soft lips pressed to Amy’s, applying gentle pressure. Stunned, Amy took her kiss and raised her arms, then lowered them, shrugging her shoulders as the woman pulled back. Amy’s lips tingled slightly.

“Very good. Next is purple passion.”

“But I didn’t even tell yo-mmppphm“

Again, Amy couldn’t get a word in as the next tester came in from the other side, passionately kissing Amy. This woman was more assertive, sliding her tongue along Amy’s lips. Amy fought back her instincts, but her body couldn’t resist these affections. A long thumbnail grazed Amy’s cheek up and down lovingly as plump colored lips pressed over and over to hers.

Gasping, Amy trembled with forced pleasure as the woman reluctantly broke her kiss. A woman with deep red lips was instantly there, smiling and wasting no time to move in and catch Amy’s mouth. “Wait, hold on Iummmphhhh!” This lady kissed so affectionally, her lips rubbing and hugging, that Amy was pressed back nearly falling off her chair. A wandering hand casually stroked up and down her side, tracing the curvature of her body. Amy giggled through the kiss, blushing madly.

One after another, the ladies tested their colored lips on Amy. Kiss after kiss was administered, and Amy couldn’t get a word in edgewise.

Finally, with an especially buxom older lady Frenching Amy relentlessly, her nails holding Amy’s cheeks firmly so she couldn’t turn or budge, it seemed the final kisser was done. A lab tech offered to clean the smears from Amy’s cheeks and lips, swabbing around gently. “That was perfect Amy. You are exactly the test subject we’ve been looking for. Now we can get started.”

Amy’s eyes widened. “Wh-what? You just like, gang made out with me! What else is there to do?”

“Amy…did you read the contract?”

“Shite…” Amy once again found her stomach sinking.

“Clearly it states that this test is to measure reactions on various skin regions of the body. The lips are merely the preliminary test to ensure you are receptive to our product and methods. Now, try to relax.”

The lab techs whisked Amy over to a nearby exam table, which had a padded backrest to keep her sitting upright. Again, Amy was surrounded by ladies with especially luscious lips. Some made kissy faces, as others applied fresh coats of lipstick and gloss. The smacking of their lips was so tingly teasing it made Amy squeak. Amy’s mind raced. “Um, I think there is some legalise I need to consult with regarding the filibuster of gerrymandering porkbarrel legislation?”

“…What was that?” The pink blazer woman cocked her head to one side.

“I don’t know, I failed political science…”

A tall woman with a rosy red pair of lips approached slowly, grinning warmly and pursing her kissy tools.

“…and I was kicked out of mock trial for laughing at those words….”

Amy whimpered as the lips attacked her neck, kissing gently, brushing all along the tender skin. Amy clenched her mouth. Another woman appeared at her other side and began grazing soft blue lips over Amy’s collarbone, nudging her cardigan open. “Mmmpp….” Amy bit her big lower lip, trying to hold it back. No, I can’t let them find out. I just have to endure some necking, then we’ll be done. Oh pleeease get off there, please! Amy winced as the lips traveled up her jaw and back towards her ear. The other set was working down her arm, centering right on her inner elbow.

She shook her head back and forth, blonde hairs flailing about. The ladies, undeterred, began nibbling softly, sucking in Amy’s earlobe and inner arm flesh. It was impossible to resist. The lips were the worst tickle tools Amy had endured yet, unbelievably soft and penetrating, teasing and erogenous all at once. When she felt fingers tugging on the buttons of her cardigan, Amy bucked up in the table. “No please! I need a break!”

“Sorry Amy, but we’re on a tight schedule.” The leader pointed a short perky lady over, who flashed a pair of blindingly bright pink lips. “Glittered will be perfect right there.” A red dot fluttered around Amy’s midsection as the woman pointed her laser tool. The lab techs tugged open Amy’s cardigan, revealing a little slash of exposed skin between her top and shorts. Cool breath caressed Amy’s ear, and when a tongue grazed along her inner earlobe, her composure was lost.

Amy squeaked and squealed, and before she could even register that her control was gone, the glitter lips began brushing up and down her exposed midsection. “Nooohoohooo!!!” She burst with giggles, blushing deeply. The air hung in the room for what felt like an eternity. Like light bulbs igniting, one by one the ladies grinned. Their faces shifted to fill with lust, and an unmistakable intent to torture. “Not again…” Amy said softly.

“Is somebody…ticklish?” A squeaky voice perked up. “I think sooooo!” another returned.

The glitter lipped woman gingerly lifted Amy’s top and dipped in again. The other kissers watched attentively. Those teasing lips wiggled back and forth along Amy’s belly, kissing tenderly and blowing gently. Amy’s midsection bounced in protest, laughs tumbling out of her freely. When the kiss broke, a big pink smear was all down Amy’s tummy, diverting around her navel and ending on her side. As one lab tech took notes and examined closer, another produced a soft cloth and a swab.

Amy pleaded. “No no you don’t have to do that. Eeeeee!! It’s not necessaryyyyyyy” The cleaning of her tummy was almost as tickly, with soft tools brushing along her skin to wipe away the gloss and restore it to its pale sheen and triggering tickly explosions. Poor Amy bucked and wheezed on her table, trying to fight off the sensations. The next tester was already in place. “You need to relax Amy. Tension affects our readings.” The leader warned, directing the next tester over who seemed to have the same exact lip gloss as the last.

“Hey that’s the same one!” Amy squealed as her tummy inhaled deeply to try and avoid the incoming kissy lips. Despite trying to suck her belly inward, the tickly lips landed precisely in a sweet spot to the right of Amy’s bellybutton, just short of her side, straight up from her hip. “Nooo not there!! Stop kissing! That, that…tiiickles too much!!”

“Why do you think I’m doin it?” The girl balked in a city accent, burying her lips in again, sucking in Amy’s ticklish skin and dancing her tongue along it. Amy kicked her feet and flailed her arms. Her midsection twisted and twitched. The kissing tickle followed her every move, landing again and again. The girl’s hands couldn’t help but tease Amy further, tracing along her beltline lightly during the kissing. And when it ceased, again measurements were taken, photos snapped, and that mean swab and cloth returned, ever so daintily cleaning away the residue. Every pass of the cleaning tools heightened Amy’s sensitivity, the cool air on her exposed belly even starting to tickle as the wet spots dried.

The next kisser buzzed her lips teasingly. “Hold still girly. This miiiight tickle!” She guffawed in a southern tone, zeroing in right to Amy’s twitching bellybutton. Amy screamed with anticipatory laughs, and gripped the table as big pouty purple lips descended. They sealed over her navel and paused for a scant moment before blowing loudly. Tears rolled out of Amy’s eyes as she was relentlessly raspberried.

“Not the zerrrberrts!!!” She cried, tummy trying to shake the woman away. But that only made it worse. Shiny red nails closed around Amy’s sides as the woman steadied her prey, her thumbnail tips grazing on the ticklish skin there. Amy’s back arched in response, her sides tenderly grasped, tummy covered in those big kissing lips as a wicked tongue began probing her interior crevice. The supple tongue tip dove deep inside, impossibly curling up to an especially ticklish little region in Amy’s upper inner navel. “Goooochie goooo!!” The woman pulled out to tease before diving back in, licking her lips teasingly.

The lips playing at Amy’s hyper-ticklish midsection sent wave after wave of intense tickling euphoria throughout her slender form. Under that cute top, her nipples crinkled in response. Goosebumps lit up her arms and legs. The erotic energy was too potent to fight. Under those little shorts, a fire was building and nothing would cease its progress.

A wicked smirk crosses the woman’s face as she decided to toy with Amy’s sides, brushing her lips up and down. Her mouth smacks over and over, leaving a bright purple streak. She nibbled and caressed the soft line of skin blowing softly between each unbearably kissy tickle attack. Though she bucked, squirmed, and flopped, Amy could not escape. Dimly aware of the continued warnings from the group’s leader, Amy hazily looked down to see the tech returning with the swab.

“Oh pleeease…please don’t clean!!”

The swirl of the swab in Amy’s navel is outrageously invasive, the tender fibers stimulating the whole cavern of tickles like an electric ball. The tech spent far longer than necessary swabbing Amy’s little belly button, as the ladies remarked about its cute shape. When the cleaning finally ceased, everyone watched as her poor navel continued to twitch helplessly, overloaded with tickly sensations.

A semblance of a fight left in Amy, she began to get up as a crimson lipped gothish girl appeared from the group. “Okay, I think we have everything we need here, so I’m just gonna nope right out of here.”

The ladies smiled warmly, blocking her escape.

“Yep, good job everyone. Yay! You did it! Team effort! Way to shift those paradigms!”

The gang didn’t budge, and when Amy tried to slip between them, her arms were seized and pulled back to the table.

“Oh Miss Amy, tsk tsk tsk, we are so far from done with you.” The leader said, wagging her finger back and forth.

The goth girl leaned in swiftly, catching the top of Amy’s shorts with her long blood-red nails. She tugged them down slightly, exposing the top curve of Amy’s hip bones. Amy barely had a chance to whimper before those evil lips landed, massaging in tight circles with pauses to lick playfully and nibble shamelessly. The helpless test subject howled with laughs, flailing and again trying to fight her way out. This time however, the gang grabbed her arms and legs, pinning Amy down.

“Neeee!!! Stop licking my hips!! That’s not what those are for!!”

“Might as well test some blush too!” A lab tech remarked, producing a big fluffy makeup brush and happily dusting pink powder into Amy’s rim and bellybutton as her hip was licked, sucked, and kissed. To keep Amy further on edge, the kisser alternated between hips, always switching when Amy’s hysterical laughs died down even the slightest bit. Each switch, she screamed anew, torso arching in furious protest, which was met each time with a daintily dancing blush brush.

“Tickly tickly blushy blushy!”

Her navel filled with powder and hips extremely red, Amy breathed deep. Hands lovingly twirled her long blondish locks, gracefully massaged her arms, and trailed along her outfit. The break was only momentary, as now double cleanup duty started. An absolutely wicked looking black feather duster was applied to clean out her blushy navel while the swabs returned to polish each hip in big rubbing circles.

“Gossssh!!! Ssssstoop iiit! You wouldn’t have to clean if you would stoppp kissing and blushing meeee!” She whined, pulling at the arms which kept her pinned down. The techs were completely unfazed, working busily with knowing grins.

“Okay Amy.” The leader started, looking over her notes and flipping a fancy gilded pen between her thumb and forefinger. Amy shuddered. Something about this woman was getting to her. The demeanor, the corporate style. The shiny pumps. That ultra-pink blazer, which she was unbuttoning slowly. “We’re going to move to a new test.”

“You mean like, I need a number two pencil?” Amy asked absentmindedly, eyeing her antagonist closely.

“No, you silly cute girl. We’re moving you to a better apparatus. And testing a new locale on your adorable body.” Amy stared blankly. The woman parted her blazer and revealed a shiny thick waist belt. Amy thrust involuntarily, her arousal levels spiking. The ladies didn’t notice as they had busied themselves preparing the apparatus. But their leader did. She locked eyes with Amy lustily.

Their moment was broken as the girls walked Amy over to the next site. Still looking at the mystery woman, Amy was positioned into a padded chair similar to what one would see in a dental office, albeit with long armrests. Her wrists were strapped down, her legs strapped to the end of the end of the chair. The lab techs lifted her top to ensure midsection exposure. Before Amy could come back down and prepare for the next wave, she was screaming with giggles and laughs as tickly kisses started raining down on her body.

She was kissed along her inner elbows. Kissed and tongued on her neck. Mouths brushed and nibbled her sides. One pair of lips gently nuzzled Amy’s lower belly. Another kissed each finger then began sucking them one at a time. Two kissers took each knee, licking and pecking along the perimeter. The goth girl worked her way back to the hips, landing kiss after tickly kiss on each. And one pair of succulent pink lips was leaning down between Amy’s legs, making out alternately with each thigh.

The flurry of kiss testing lasted less than a minute, but Amy trembled and giggled and shook for at least ten minutes after. Her body was buzzing with sensory overload, so overcome with sensual attention. Each tickle spot twitched endlessly. She didn’t even need to be strapped at this point, as she was entirely paralyzed by the flood.

“You….tickle meaniess…..” She whimpered, head lolling side to side. The ladies laughed collectively. The swabbing and dusting started anew. Amy feebly giggled and groaned, those soft little tools working their way along the same paths that had just been ravaged by glossy lips. “Seriously, ssstop cleaning meeee!”

When they finished, Pink Blazer stepped forth, hand on hip, and showed a visage of pure lustful intent.

“wha….? N—no….oh no, pleeease, don’t….”

The woman nodded assuredly as she reached for Amy’s shorts. “Oh yes, mm-hmm. Yes. Yes.” She carefully undid Amy’s flower-shaped belt buckle and pulled it loose. As she unbuttoned the shorts with agonizing slowness, great rosebuds bloomed anew along Amy’s cheeks and neck.

“No! Pleeease don’t do that…You don’t understand!”

“Yes. Uh-huh. I do.” She retorted matter-of-factly, ever so slowly tugging Amy’s shorts down and revealing a pair of polka-dot panties.

“Oh!”

Once again, the room was silent. The ladies looked on with cat-like curiosity. Pink Blazer’s eyes scanned Amy’s panties slowly, assessing the big swell within. Amy embarrassingly looked away, her body so visibly aroused.

“Well now, you’re just full of surprises Amy!”

She leaned down and began buzzing her lips along Amy’s pantyline. The swell quivered and bounced. The woman’s lips were even more tickly then all her minions. Those perfectly rose colored instruments blew and nibbled and caressed back and forth in long lines. The woman hummed softly with each kiss, sending vibrations along Amy’s ultra tender flesh.

“mmmh!!” Amy giggle moaned. “You’re killing meeeee!”

“Coochie coo Amy. All these special kissy tickles, all for you. I know you like this.”

“Unnnnnf! Ju-ju-jusssst! Jusss”

Words tumbled haphazardly from Amy’s mouth as she shook in her bondage. The woman smiled and caressed Amy’s belly, fingering her navel slowly as she leaned in again, grazing her lips right on the swell of the polka dot panties. The techs joined in, lightly dusting Amy’s hips with blush. A lady wrapped her hands around Amy's neck and starting kissing the back of it lovingly. Amy fought the sensual tickle assault as long as she could.

Which wasn’t very long at all, especially when wiggling index fingers began teasing her nipples through the fabric of the top and nails spidered up and down her sides. The swollen strain of Amy’s panties was at critical mass. Her hips thrust hypnotically up and down. She gasped and laughed and moaned. With one more kiss to the swell in Amy’s panties, she started bucking wildly.

“OOOOHHH GOSSSH!!! SPARKLES! FIREWORKS!” Amy’s giggling moans filled the room. “AHHMMMMPHHHH!” And were cut off as the woman caught Amy’s mouth and began kissing passionately. Amy was kissed, caressed, and tickled all through her coerced orgasm. The soft material held Amy’s organ tight, stimulating her with tickly strokes as she came, magnifying the sensation tenfold. Her princess part poking out, Amy’s surge landed along her pinkened belly. Amy submitted and kissed back, her tongue twining with the leader of the tickly kissy gang.

As the kiss broke, Amy fell limp, giggling limply before starting to mewl, pulling at her bonds begging non-verbally for more attention. The lab techs began cleaning up, eliciting new squirms and wiggles as the swabs and brushes cleaned up the discharge and new coats of lip product. She shook her head and whined out for the woman, kissing at the air now. The techs disregarded her begging and fixed Amy’s top and cardigan, slid up her shorts and buckled her cute belt. Sealed back into her outfit, body trembling as she came down from the high, the test subject began protesting anew.

“You’ve had your fun….can I go now?” Amy mumbled, going wide-eyed yet again as she watched the ladies wheel in a shiny mechanical contraption.

“That was just the preload, Amy!” The leader smiled. With clanking and electrical buzzing, the machine thrummed to life. A big pink smiling face appeared on the machine. Compartments slid open, revealing countless pairs of synthetic lips at the end of long coiling tendrils. Some of the ladies were passionately muah'ing into sensors on the machine, which was fed into databanks and allowed more copies of their plush lips to slide out.

“Now that we have sufficient data on you, we can load it into our kissing machine and get some real results.” The endless lips floated towards Amy, eagerly kissing and flicking their tongues. They locked onto various zones, descending towards Amy’s neck, lips, cheeks, collar, arms, elbows, tummy, chest, legs, and hips. “Don’t worry, she’s very gentle.”

Amy sighed. “I think I need to talk to an HR rep…”

Amy shivered and choked back a deep squeal of disbelief. The domineering leader of the cosmetics lab breathed excitedly behind Amy's ears, her hands closing on Amy's lightly exposed sides to hold her test subject lovingly as she cooed and licked. The machine trembled and floated closer to Amy as she sat firmly strapped to the exam chair. The smiling robotic face taunted Amy, making her whimper as its array of synthetic lips swarmed about.

"She's so excited to see you, Amy. She's gonna tease and taunt and kiss you just right on all your spots. Mmmhmm. All of them. We fed her all that data we collected on your cute frame." Her chuckles tingled on Amy's ears, forcing Amy to watch the machine approach and feel those pangs of helpless sensitivity. "You can struggle all you like. The lips won't be deterred." She held up a remote and pressed a button. With a cute chime, the first set of robotic lips began moving.

Despite the taunt, Amy did struggle. A pair of kissing lips floated towards her neck as if magnetically charged. Their stain was a passionate red, and made "muah muah" kissy sounds as they taunted Amy. Her belly twitched and her legs pulled uselessly as Amy desperately tried to avoid the incoming attack. With a gasping giggle, Amy's cheeks flushed pink and her body trembled feeling the soft affection planting right on her sensitive neck.

"Muah, muah, muah"

"Nuuhhhh~ don't kiss meeee! I can't take any more! Turn it offf!!!" The machine cooed as the leader pressed the button again, and sent another pair of lips, this one a set of bright purple headed right for Amy's arm pursing in a most sassy manner. She yanked helplessly at her bonds feeling the impossibly soft brushing in her inner elbows. Amy laughed out, and released a snickering gasp when the lips began a nibbling routine up and down her inner arm. Her head was flopping side to side already, and the pair at her neck followed every motion.

"Oh yes, so many lovely kisses for you Amy. You're so adorable. You deserve all the kisses and loves." The leader brushed her own pink lips on Amy's cheek before stepping back to take more notes and observe her machine. She held up the remote to Amy and thoughtfully began swirling her tapered finger along the button. Amy shook her head no through gasping laughs. The chime pinged and a pair of dark crimson lips centered on Amy's tummy.

"Tummy tummy kissy kissies!"

Amy shrieked as the lips zeroed in on the exposed slash of skin between her shorts and cropped top. The lips sealed around her navel with a cool embrace and began a raspberry routine. "Gguuuhuuhu it can zerrrrberrrt?!" Amy struggled in shock, the rippling kissing tease pushing her into ticklish hysteria. Her toes curled and hips bucked in protest at this new attack. The lips were relentless, blowing over her twitching button, then popping off with a taunting sound before pausing to select a new zone and starting the process over. Her belly was quickly a mess of glossy smears, each set of impact giving Amy aftershock tickles.

"Muah, muah, muah"

"Of course they can. These babies can do whatever I want. Aren't they just wonderful Amy? And you're getting to test all our newest shades. The ladies just love watching you, don't you girls?" The gang of kissing ladies lounged around the edges of the lab, giggling and chatting and cooing. Amy had nearly forgotten them, and blushed a deeper red realizing the weight of all their eyes on her new plight.

The leader struck one of those authoritative poses that drove Amy wild with wanting, continuing as she again drew her finger along the remote's button. "And when the lips find a particularly delicious spot, they will continue to kiss it and tease it so perfectly. They'll linger and coax out all your best sensations, like a sweet lover." With a beep, the next set of lips was summoned to torment Amy with tickly kisses.

"Muah, muah, muah"

"Whhaatt? This machine is ridiculous you're crazy just lemme gommmhpppphh" a pair of passionate purple lips found Amy's lips and ended her protests with a deep kiss. Amy giggled and slipped a moan through the kiss, her arousal starting anew. One by one all the lips began releasing their kissing only to return on the most tender electric zones they had discovered. The pair at Amy's arms nested in the crook inside her elbow. The set on her neck was nibbling ever so lightly right under the jaw. The belly kisser found the spot right under her navel and was brushing upwards. The lips on Amy's lips began simply brushing their soft glossy surface on Amy's, and she could have soared into the ceiling.

"Quitititititquitit!! I can't I can't!! I'm too ticklish you're too kissy and these lips are toooo...lippy!! Lips mips gallups niiiiipsss!" The ladies chuckled knowingly as Amy started babbling into batty ticklishness.

The leader held up the remote once more. "Aaaaaamy" She held her finger to the button, faking out pressing it to make Amy squeak and writhe on the chair each time. Finally she chimed the machine again and a pair of naughty blueberry lips sprang forth to begin planting pecks on the underside of each toe. The blue prints drove Amy wild with tingles, a fresh set pressed into each and every toe before going back to kiss again in the crook of the whole set. And when they returned for a third pass to begin suckling on each toe, Amy was almost soundless save for her snickergasps.

"Muah, muah, muah"

The leader couldn't help holding the remote right to Amy's ear and chiming again quickly with a double tap. A matching pair of emerald lips quickly flew to Amy's chest and nuzzled up under her tiny cropped top to hone in on the nipples. "Thanks for the suggestion cutie pie" More snickering gasps as her buttons were worked over with passionate teasing kisses. It truly did feel like a lingering lover, feeding on Amy's every reaction and drawing her deeper into tickled madness.

"Well would you look at that. You're a mess Amy." Amy wasn't sure how long it had been going on. She gradually became aware of the endless lip prints all over her skin. It felt like every bit of exposed skin from her outfit was being taunted with residual kisses. She could feel every kiss now. The lips hovered nearby, eagerly blowing kisses. Worse yet, some of them we lingering and blowing puffs of air on Amy's most tickled spots which made her squeal out in teased agony. That shining pink face never stopped smiling at Amy, just floating nearby to remind Amy of her plight. "Luckily, we have a routine just for this purpose."

With a new chime, Amy screamed a giggle. The lips began sticking out their synthetic tongues, floating back towards her overly teased and sensitized body. "Don'tttt!! You don't understand!! Well you do but I'm just sayinnn!!" Amy managed through her gasping laughing groans feeling the tongues licking up her body, right back on those hot spots. The tongues darted along her arms, up her neck, along her belly and beltline, down each and every toe, and swirled over her nipples. The teasing touches cleansed away the colour stains and left her skin extra tingly.

Amy shuddered and giggled so overloaded as her skin began to return to that pristine pinkened state. The tongues polished endlessly, swirling and lickling to their master's satisfaction. "Aww, it's just a little licking. Don't you like the cleansing routine Amy? You'd better get used to it, after all sweetheart."

She tried to shut it out, push out those teasing words and this swarm of sensations, but the lips shocked her back into reality by returning to brush all over Amy's face. They kissed at her ears, dipping their tongues inside. The lips brushed her cheeks, kissed at her lips and licked all over her neck. "Geeettt awayyyy nuoonununuu you're kiling meeee!!" Amy's face vanished in the flurry of activity, lips working in tandem to cover her with affection. They reared back and dipped in, synchronizing to completely overwhelm their lovely target.

"Mmmmpphphhheheheheaggoshshshmmpphphh"

"Muah, muah, muah"

Again Amy was left gasping. Her face was a mess of lip prints. Instead of cleansing, the leader was once more fixated on Amy's royal zones. She rolled up the crop top, unbuckled the oversized flower belt and tugged Amy's shorts back down. "Sorry Amybaby, I simply must. I need that princess part, mmhm. You need these wonderful tickles. And I know just how to give them." This time, she did not allow Amy to keep her cute polka dot panties. With a sly grin the leader adorned in pink hooked a finger into Amy's undergarments and began slowly tugging them down. A single pair of lips joined the tease, kissing at Amy's hips to tease further.

"Let's see it now. These cute panties are adorable, but they need to come off." She tugged lower, Amy moaned out feeling the pressure releasing on her swollen princess part. "There we go. Beautiful, so pretty." The leader smiled and held out her hands. One of the other ladies opened a bottle of massage oil and let it fall to her boss's hands from high above. The strict leader never broke eye contact with helpless Amy as she began rubbing her hands together.

"Nnnhhooo. Nooo pleeeease don't...that tickles sooo bad you don't even know!!" Amy pleaded seeing those soft hands heading right for her erect princess part. The woman nodded yes, yes, yes, seizing the quivering part and squeezing it ever so gently, her other hand reaching down to lightly scratch at the perenium.

"Oh, my yes I do Amy. You love this. And you wanted a job, didn't you? Well you're getting it." She began pumping Amy slowly, making her moan. The machine responded by sending the lips back in to kiss at their most tickly teasing, circling around Amy's bouncing belly and sides, and down to her feet to lick the soles. "In fact, you're getting two Amy!"

The leader reached over to hold up the remote once more. The chime started and an especially sassy pair of red lips shot into view.

"Muah, muah, muah"

The leader held Amy's princess part at the base and took her other index finger to lightly draw on the underside up to the glans. She worked her skilled craft to ensure Amy's naughty part was fully engorged and ready to be overloaded by the machine, no matter how Amy tried to fight it. The red lips lowered further and further. Amy's eyes rolled back into her head as she snickergasped endlessly. Her body was paralyzed with sensation, the last set of lips taking in her swollen princess part, planting a red kiss before working downward.

"Make sure to moan real good for us Amy, we're streaming this to all our affiliates. They just love you, and we're definitely having you back."

Amy could barely register the words though there was no mistaking all the cameras humming and training in on her body. She could sense the giggles and taunts. The muahs. The hum of the machine. But most of all she heard that sound of the lips at her princess part. And felt the insanely tickly sensation rocketing down her sex and radiating through her body. She could barely stay conscious during a blowjob under the best circumstances. But the tickly kisses kept her from fading entirely. The machine smiled and worked Amy into the edge. The lips followed a dynamic routine, tickling and teasing and tickling again, nuzzling their softness on the underside of the tip before going down again. Speeding up with their kisses and raspberries before slowing for a moment and ramping up. The leader never stopped teasing Amy with her fingers, stroking the underside of her princess part and inner thighs with the lightest of touches while she leaned in and made little taunting moaning sounds to match Amy's.

"I'd say you need to beg to cum for us, but I don't think you're capable of such words now babydoll."

After an eternity of torment, Amy's body seized, locked into a bonded thrust of teased pleasure. Her form coated with kiss marks, sensitized pinkened skin, and a little trail of drool. She ticklegasmed right into the kissing red lips, right under the touch of the leader. And the machine did not stop nor did its operator. "Gotta make sure we got it allll~" She sang, speeding up the lips to kiss under the tip while she pulled out a mini vibrating wand to coax every drop by buzzing Amy's royal chest buttons and princess part while tickling with skittering nails all over the belly.

The aftershocks still coated her form, though she could tell some time had passed. The leader had released one of Amy's arms and was holding up a contract for the company. Amy's head lolled from side to side. She faintly signed her name and stuck her tongue out in a sassy half-sleeping gesture. The leader smirked and held the remote up again.

*beeeep*

"Muah, muah, muah"

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pupsmailbox · 9 months ago

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DEMON︰DEVIL ID PACK

NAMES ⌇　abadden. abaddon. ace. adder. alastair. alastor. amon. amy. antagone. ash. asher. ashes. asmo. avarice. avaricia. bael. balam. bane. banshee. baphomet. behemoth. belial. bellatrix. bellinor. berry. birsha. blake. blazer. brimine. bull. bune. cain. caine. cambion. casimir. caym. cerberus. charon. cherry. claude. colere. corbin. corvid. creseis. cronus. crow. crowley. cruella. damian. damien. damon. daniel. dantalion. deirdre. dem. demonesse. demonette. demonia. dera. devilie. devume. diablo. diedre. dizzy. dracula. emily. entropy. ezra. fang. fangesse. fangette. felix. foras. furfur. furio. furiosa. grimbaer. hades. hecate. hermes. hex. ialyre. ira. ire. james. janus. jester. jinx. jinx/jynx. jynx. karina. kawa. lacey. lamb. lamia. layla. lilith. lilloth. lolia. luci. lucien. lucifer. lucius. lunesse. lycan. magnus. mal. malcius. malice. malicia. mallory. malorie. mammon. mania. mara. marnise. meilius. midas. minerva. misery. moonesse. moonette. moonie. moony. night. nightesse. nikolai. nithvine. noire. noiresse. noirette. nyx. omen. paimon. pandora. peri. persephone. pitch. ram. rena. rogue. ruby. sanguis. seere. seiriphi. silas. sinn. skittle. snake. stella. toxin. vessel. vex. vexa. vic. vice. victor. victoria. vince. vincent. viper. virtue. voss. vulture. wither. zoe.

PRONOUNS ⌇ >:)/>:). ash/ash. bat/bat. bit/bitter. black/black. blood/blood. claw/claw. con/con. con/conjure. crackle/crackle. dae/daem. dae/mon. dark/dark. dark/darkness. de/dem. de/demon. dea/deamon. deceit/deceitful. demon/demon. demon/demonic. devil/devil. eranged/deranged. evil/evil. fang/fang. fear/feared. fiend/fiend. flame/flame. fool/fool. gha/ghast. goat/goat. gray/grey. gray/grey. grr/growl. hate/hate. he/hell. hell/hell. hellish/hellishly. hiss/hiss. horn/horn. hunt/hunt. hx/hxm. imp/imp. infer/infernal. infernal/infernal. infernal/infernality. jest/jest. joke/joke. lamb/lamb. lava/lava. lethal/lethal. liar/liar. lie/lie. loom/loom. mal/mal. mal/malice. moon/moon. ni/night. night/night. noc/noct. poison/poison. psycho/psycho. reap/reap. red/red. rose/rose. ruin/ruin. scare/scare. shx/hxr. si/sin. silly/silly. sin/sin. slither/slither. soul/soul. spi/spite. spite/spite. succubi/succubus. suffer/suffer. thief/thief. thxy/thxm. tief/tiefling. tiefling/tiefling. toxin/toxin. twist/twisted. unholy/unholys. ve/venom. vi/vice. vice/vice. vil/vil. vil/villain. vile/vile. wick/wicked. wretch/wretched. ♠️ . ⛪️ . ❤️‍🔥 . 🍎 . 🍯 . 🎻 . 🐝 . 👿 . 💒 . 🔥 . 🕷 . 🗝 . 😈 . 🥩 .

#⭐️lists #id pack #npt #name suggestions #name ideas #name list #pronoun suggestions #pronoun ideas #pronoun list #neopronouns #nounself #emojiself #demonkin #fallen angelkin #demoncore #devilcore

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getmehighonmagic · 6 months ago

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WIP Wednesday, May 29th 2024

God, it's been a while, huh? *sweats nervously*

Thank you so much @kiwiana-writes, @onthewaytosomewhere and @suseagull04 for your continuous tags ♥ And everyone else over the past couple of weeks as well, of course!

I've been steadily working on finishing take me back to San Francisco, and I'm almost there! That said, certain pictures of Nick sparked a new idea for a one shot, so... I had to start a new WIP. It couldn't be helped. Here's the beginning of it:

The first time Alex lays eyes on him is when he’s celebrating his twenty-first birthday. He’s seated at a booth at Patrick Molloy’s, June on one side while Nora is on the other, and he’s sipping from a rum and coke. Not the first rum and coke he’s ever had, but definitely the first one he’s ever ordered by himself. He had totally planned to look cool and collected, and enjoy his birthday without embarrassing himself, but then… well… He happened. “Jesus, are you okay?” Nora asks, patting his back when Alex chokes on his drink and starts hacking it up in search of oxygen. June hands him a napkin and winces. “Half of Marina Del Rey can hear you knocking on death’s door,” she snorts. “Fuck you,” Alex wheezes, but he’s not looking at his sister, so his words kind of fall flat. He’s gorgeous, with his tousled, caramel coloured hair, sharp jawline, and impossibly full lips. He’s wearing dark jeans that hug his, admittedly, very nice figure, a light blue, denim button-up and a navy colored blazer.

Thank you for your patience with me, I promise I'll be more active again soon! ♥

No pressure tagging @blueeyedgrlwrites @bigassbowlingballhead @eusuntgratie @sparklepocalypse @happiness-of-the-pursuit

@affectionatelyrs @indomitable-love @heysweetheart-writes @wordsofhoneydew @firenati0n

@hgejfmw-hgejhsf @anchoredarchangel @clottedcreamfudge @anincompletelist @cricketnationrise

@violetbaudelaire-quagmire @lostcol @matherines @thinkof-england @inexplicablymine

@three-drink-amy @priincebutt @nocoastposts @littlemisskittentoes @cha-melodius

@i-am-freyja @itsmaybitheway @saturntheday @bitbybitwrites @ninzied

@porcelainmortal @firstsprinces @thesleepyskipper

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mirkwoodshewolf · 1 year ago

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Hi, if you’re still doing Doctor Who fanfics, I was wondering if you could please write a silly little 11th Doctor x Platonic!TimeLord reader where they are best friends and have a relationship dynamic like Joey and Frankie from the Basement Yard Podcast.

Like they’re in a dangerous scenario and one of them makes a joke and they both just start laughing. Or when they’re on the TARDIS they’ll be arguing and then one of them says something that reminds them of a song and they both just start singing it. And they use insults and a term of endearment.

I think this would be really fun and silly, but no worries if you don’t want to.

Thanks<3

okay I’m gonna be honest, I have no idea who those guys are but I’ll still do this idea.

Okay so one thing the 11th doctor is the best next to Tennant (yeah I’m biased cause Matt smith is MY doctor).

and yeah being friends with 11’s doctor is a WILD ride!!

yet at the same time you guys just click with one another from the moment you guys meet.

let’s say both of your chaotic energies just mesh together like fish fingers and custard hehehe

and that sometimes can be pretty strange or confusing to others especially when it comes to saving the galaxy

like this one time when you, the doctor and the Ponds got ambushed by the Daleks.

“Resistance is futile. Prepare to be exterminated!”

“Damn and I think I left the stove on in the Tardis.” You say.

at that comment 11 couldn’t help but say.

”how many times does this make? The fourth? The fifth?”

”lucky number seven actually my friend. But you’ve forgotten plenty of times. Remember when you thought a grease fire could be extinguished with water?”

“And you could’ve told me that?”

after briefly glaring at one another you both start to laugh.

“What is all this?” Proclaimed one of the daleks.

”it’s better you go with it” Amy said.

There was also another time with some space pirates that had taken a town hostage for their crops and money (real bugs life type situation)

they had you and the gang in cages along with the villagers and the pirate captain was going on a villainous monologue of how he was superior than these foolish villagers.

"With the subordination of these meek-little farmers, soon the entire galaxy will know my name! BLAZER THE WRATHFUL!!!" the pirates soon uproared in celebration, but soon a loud laugh overcame that.

It was your laughter.

"Something funny monkey!?"

"I'm sorry, I-I'm sorry my dude, did you say your name is Blazer-fury?"

"Yes!"

"So do you--shoot blazers out of wrath?" you ask.

"Enough out of you! Or we'll kill you first!"

But you couldn't help but snicker under your breath. The Captain turns back to you demanding what's funny.

"I'm sorry. My guy I am soo sorry. I just keep thinking to myself of how every morning you standing in front of them mirror saying to yourself, 'You know what would be a real kick-ass name! BLAZER THE WRATHFUL!!' HAHAHAHAH! That's how I hear you in my head. Remember Doc like that movie?!"

"Which one? You mean the Dinosaur one? Ahh I remember when we got to have those dinos on a space ship. That was a fun time."

"No, no, no Doctor you know the one with the talking Raccoon."

"Oh yeah. Huh? Art imitates life."

"RIGHT!?!? HEY! HEY CAP! What was your second choice gonna be? BLAZER THE SCROTUM HEAD!?"

At your comment, you had his entire crew laughing when Blazer the wrathful puleld you against the bars, his sword to your neck as he sneered.

"That's it wench! You die now!"

"Well, dying would certainly be better than living in a galaxy where a misogynistic moron who thinks Blazer the Wrathful is a kickass name." you said bluntly before using your taser gun that River gave you the last time you both met.

In the end, you all saved the village and defeated the piarates.

Overall, when it comes to being you and the Doctor, you better watch out cause there's bound to be some chaos, mischief, and a bit of eye-rolling due to their chaotic energy together.

"Hey Doc! Where's the flux-capacitor on SEXY?"

"She doesn't have one of those, this is a TARDIS, not a Delorian."

"Do you think she'd be able to transform into that?"

"No! I like her this way and this way she'll stay."

"Then can you make me a time-machine Delorian?"

"No."

"C'MON DOC!!"

Yeah, chaotic energy at the max.

#doctor who #doctor who x reader #doctor who imagines #11th doctor #11th doctor x reader #1tth doctor x gn reader #doctor who imagine #11th doctor imagine #11th doctor imagines #doctor who fanfic #doctor who fanfiction #11th doctor fanfic #11th doctor fanfiction #pond family #doctor who fandom

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marsi-is-depressed · 3 days ago

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Life on Mars must've been pretty depressing.

Cw: Amy and Rory have a child before River. The child in this fic is the reader. No warnings, a little talk of Cancer.

Uncle- like!11th doctor x teen!reader

Reader is in her late teens, the 900-year-old doctor has a medical degree.

You were well aware that using your phone to Google symptoms was never a good idea. Being surrounded by the doctor every day and accompanying him on practically all of his travels in the TARDIS had taught you a lot about the universe's many life forms, ailments, and treatments.

But when you're the one with a problem, the situation changes slightly since no one likes to confess they have a medical condition, and no one wants to seek care right soon, especially if they have to inform the doctor. You packed the most of your possessions prior to your trip. You took your laptop and searched the internet for similar symptoms.

Then something comes up. Scary stuff. Things that are unlikely to be true.

The TARDIS was black without the doctor. You sat in front of the glaringly bright laptop screen, your head resting on your pulled-up knees and your knees touching your chest on the chair. You swallowed deeply, utterly embracing yourself. You were biting furiously on your bottom lip, your sharp eyes searching the various tabs open in front of you. Terrifying phrases popped out at you, words you were already familiar with, words that triggered a slew of emotions inside your already agitated mind.

Your chest heaves, and your breaths stutter, suffocating you. Your eyes are burning, and you gasp, forcing your breath back into your lungs. It's not the first time little panic attacks have occurred, though it's never been for a medical reason. You puff your chest and breathe out slower than normal, as best as you can, lagging and coughing every few breaths.

When you're calm, you grab for your mug of tea, raising it to your lips for a little drink before holding it in front of you as you read.

Suddenly, the blackness that had enveloped you for the last half hour gave way to bright light, and you blinked furiously for a time before turning to face the TARDIS door. Doctor was just closing it, bags of Chinese food dangling from his arm. "Am I interrupting some secret night meeting here?" he enquired, his eyebrows raised, and you groaned, returning your gaze to the screen before closing the laptop and exiting the tabs.

You turn in your chair, looking mindlessly at nothing in particular while Doctor places the bags on the floor by the control station. You'd been living with him for three months while Amy and Rory were at home caring for the baby. Without a question, that was going well.

The TARDIS was enormous, but the absence of a large table to eat at, as well as appropriate ceramic plates and silverware, necessitated some creativity, which none of you were concerned about, especially because the doctor is an extraterrestrial. Doctor went to get your meal every night, landing on various worlds, and the two of you ate out of plastic containers with weak extraterrestrial silverware while watching a television Rory would have flipped over as soon as he laid eyes on it. It had been a good, enjoyable couple of months away from your parents, which you both readily admitted.

Up till today, it appeared. Up until that morning, when you had awoken and had a shower before Doctor took you both to the next little planet. He had observed your distant demeanour all day and was still trying to figure it out. For as long as he'd known you and loved you as if you were his own kid, he wasn't particularly good at distinguishing between your feelings. Still not as good as Amy. She was nearly a god at figuring you out.

"What were you looking at?" he said in curiosity, gesturing to his closed laptop. As you turned to look back, he shrugged off his brown blazer. You clearly hesitated, opening your lips and perhaps thinking about the words that had suddenly occurred to you.

"The possibility of life on Mars," you abruptly concluded, standing from your chair and wrapping your dressing gown about yourself. Doctor arched an eyebrow and paused for a while as you sat on the floor near the control console, scooting your back against the wall. You grabbed the book on the side and started reading, but your strained look told him you weren't happy. You were so preoccupied with nothing that you were visibly worried.

He slowly put his jacket on the door hook and sat on the bed's edge, kicking off his shoes. He looked over his shoulder. You were flipping over pages, making crackling noises as the paper in the book flipped violently every half second. He moaned softly. "Life on Mars must've been pretty depressing," he remarked, turning and sitting alongside you, back against the wall, legs crossed at the ankles in front of him. He interlaced his fingers on his lap, gaze fixed on the panel in front of him; when you halted the flicking, he knew you were attempting to remain silent, stalling even. He tilted his head to look at you, observing your furrowed brows and tension. and tense jaw. “What’s wrong?

You bit your bottom lip and dropped the book on the floor below you, and Doctor grabbed for it, dragging it beside him. He waited patiently. You plainly wanted to speak with him, and although he wouldn't force you, he wasn't going to let you go without spilling. Not now. He watched you, his kind gaze persistent but not unsettling, and you turned a minute later, raising a hand to wipe between your eyes. He shifted to face you more."If I tell you something," you delicately said, "will you promise not to tell mum?"

His eyebrows rose. That was a hefty request. Not just because Amy was your mother, but because even if he made and kept his commitment, Amy would undoubtedly find out. "That depends on a lot of factors, Y/N," he said after a time.

You shake your head. "I promise it- it's not something she needs to know yet."

"Yet?"

You closed your eyes and clenched your hands. Frustration flowed inexplicably through you. "If something comes from what I tell you, then yeah, we'll tell Mum and Dad…" You opened them again, and your shoulders dropped in defeat. "But I don't wanna worry them."

"Well, now you're worrying me."

Your heart pumped hard against your ribs. It wasn't that you were worried or nervous about speaking with him; it was the repercussions that scared you, the notion that what you'd googled may be real. And it was this that made your eyes wet and your cheeks flush hot. Doctor scowled, whirling quickly and bringing you into his arms. "Okay, now you're really worrying me," he whispered, pressing the back of your head against his chest.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your eyes tightly clenched. You concentrated on your breathing, knowing that deliberately letting your tears flow would be foolish, no matter how terrified you were. It was probably nothing.

"Hey, it's okay." He stroked his hand up and down your back. "Calm down and tell me what's wrong."

"I found a, uh… something… on my ribs this morning." You rubbed your eyes.

Doctor blinked. "Something?"

"A lump." "I think."

The doctor sat back a little, realising something. Anyone who finds an unexpected tumour on their body will instinctively assume the worst possible outcome. Lump, tumour, radiation, chemo, hospitalisation, testing, and death. And it was only inevitable for it to be your first thinking.

"Okay," he responded confidently, as if the unspoken words 'we've got this' reinforced it. "That is okay. A lump does not necessarily indicate what you believe it does, okay? I'll run some tests tomorrow to double-check. He stated it as if he knew it was nothing, as if cancer wouldn't dare to approach you with him on standby.

You nodded and took in a hesitant breath. You raised your tearful eyes to meet his, and he smiled down at you before planting a kiss on your forehead for comfort. "Yeah," you agreed. You moved slightly and unfastened your dressing robe. Your hands were damp, but you tugged your shirt up until you reached the bulge, peering down almost reluctantly. Your heart leapt at the feeling. You’re silently thanking God it was still the same size.

The doctor walked closer, rolling up his sleeves. It felt less serious with only him, no mother or higher authority, and more like when you'd fall and scrape your knee as a child and rush to him and your mother. Doctor was always there to wipe away your tears and seat you on his lap till you calmed down. If there was anyone you felt comfortable trusting to deliver possibly life-changing news, it was the 900-year-old doctor.

You felt his hands at your side and tried to relax as much as possible.

"Does it hurt?" he enquired.

You shake your head. "No."

"Do you notice anything else?" Are you experiencing abdominal pain? "Weight loss?"

"No. "What does that mean?"

"It signifies…" He softly patted your side and pulled down your shirt. "I don't think it's cancer, Y/N."

You exhaled deeply and sank significantly.

"A lump on the rib that's related to cancer is usually sarcoma, and if it was you'd have some other symptoms." When you looked up at him with relieved eyes, he smiled and extended his arms for another squeeze which you gladly took.

"What do you think it is?" you murmured gently, resting your head on his upper body.

"It's just a cyst. There's nothing to worry about. That was absolutely not what he expected this week.

His gaze dropped on his laptop. "You were searching the web of lies instead of telling me," he said, and you let out a small laugh.

"Find me first the next time. There's no need to build yourself up. Robots lie. Trust me; I should know."

"You sound like Mother."

"Oh God! Please eat before you expire."

#doctor who x reader #eleventh doctor x reader #child!reader #doctor who #medical care #medical degree #amy pond #river song #rory williams #so freaking cute

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ftwkcomic · 1 year ago

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The Adventures of Sonic the Hedgehog pg 55

Only in times of dire crisis the emerald guardians bring together the chaos eme- STICKS, FOR FENNECS SAKE!!!! #sonicthehedgehog Hope you guys enjoy. c: Portfolio: https://ftwkcomicbooks.myportfolio.com

Socials and comms info https://ftwkcomic.carrd.co/

Posted using PostyBirb

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junebugclaremontdiaz · 8 months ago

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Several Sentence Sunday

Tagged by @kiwiana-writes @onthewaytosomewhere and @wordsofhoneydew <3

TW: gunshot wound

"Alex, sugar you keep those eyes open. You hear me? We're getting you out of here," Ellen instructs frantically as she tears her blazer off. Alex's eyes flutter open as he tries to keep up with her instructions. She knows. She knew he would, he always has, her perfect boy, "That's it baby, you look at me now," she presses as deeply as she can to the wound, all semblances of training flying from her mind in the face of her only son in front of her.

"Mama?"

Alex's voice is nothing like it was mere minutes ago, when he'd been golden, sounding far more like a scared boy with a nightmare. Only, it hits her now that she doesn't remember him coming to her with those either. Only this one. Only this one. "Mama's here baby." She forces her own voice to remain even in the face of the worst moment she'd never thought to imagine.

"Hurts"

His sputtering cough stops her dead, more so when she notes the blood specked at his lips. It is everywhere. It is everywhere and there is nothing she can do to stop it.

"Alex, keep your eyes open, you don't close those eyes. Not for one second."

The room spins around them, but Ellen is centered on him. Amy and Greggs have them covered. Keep pressure. Don’t elevate his legs. Hold steady and wait.

Wait.

Wait, for her son to die.

Tagging: @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @ninzied @guillermosfamiliar @indestructibleheart @littlemisskittentoes @anincompletelist @priincebutt @ladyknightellen and anyone who wants to

#talia.txt #fic: where the dead outnumber the living #alex claremont diaz #ellen claremont

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kinda-iconic · 1 year ago

Text

Consequences

Summary: Adrian makes a very big mistake...with heart-breaking repercussions.

Warning: References to infidelity

Tagging: @bloodboundismylife

Word Count: 4'400+

Pairing: Adrian Raines x F!MC (Amelia)

On a cool, autumnal morning, Adrian awakens from his slumber, the stale aroma of yesterday’s bourbon reaching his nostrils as he reaches up to mask his eyes, the orangish hue of sunrise trickling in through a tiny opening underneath the blinds. He exhales softly, his arm stretching across the mattress in the hope of his fingertips greeting a familiar warmth; to his relief, he soon finds comfort, his gaze befalling a petite silhouette resting beside him, but his newfound comfort soon dissipates into dread as the figure turns over…

…it’s not Amy.

He sits upright, immediately removing himself from the covers before scrambling around for his clothing. He manages to locate his trousers and shoes, his expression paling as memories from the night before begin to flood his thoughts. He hurriedly dresses half of his body before a quiet mumble causes him to pause; the woman stirs, her voice groggy as she lifts her head, gazing sleepily over her shoulder at the commotion.

“Going so soon?” She whispers suggestively, “I thought that maybe you and I could-”

Her words fade away as she sees the devastation in his features, her brows furrowing in concern as she watches him fumble around for his shoes.

“Is everything okay?”

Adrian sits at the foot of the bed, struggling with his laces; he continues his attempt to untangle them, refusing to so much as glance in the woman’s direction, though it isn’t long before his panic and frustration get the better of him. He launches his shoe across the room, his head dropping into his hands in defeat as his fingers grasp harshly onto his hair, most likely inflicting pain to his scalp. The woman frowns, tilting her head.

“Are you late for work or something?”

He takes a shaky breath, his arms falling to his sides, knuckles whitening as he grasps a hold of the bedcovers.

“W-what…” his words come out in a broken whisper, “what did we do, Lena?”

“What didn’t we do?” She smirks in satisfaction, “we met up again…had a few drinks…and you did not disappoint.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but his words quickly dissipate into a strangled sob, his hand reaching instinctively to cover his face as he begins to tear up, the reality of what has occurred leaving a visibly distinctive impression on his body language. Lena’s previous grin fades; she shuffles forward, stopping only when she is resting beside him, the realisation as to why he has responded in that manner slowly dawning on her. Her mouth forms an ‘o’, her voice soft and gentle.

“Your girlfriend…”

Adrian sniffles, responding to her utterance with a profuse nod. She reaches for him, only to pause midway through the gesture, having no choice but to be a spectator as he shies away from her touch.

“What are you going to do?”

For a moment, the room is silent, the air suddenly becoming awash with unease. It is only after a couple of minutes that Adrian speaks, almost breathless.

“I…I need to tell her the truth.”

Lena’s eyes widen, the colour seeming to drain from her cheeks at his remark.

“You-you can’t!”

“She deserves to know,” he leans down, having finally spotted his missing shirt; he pulls it swiftly over his head, not even stopping to adjust the cuffs, “I’m not keeping this from her. I won’t.”

“Why ruin what you have?” She clambers off the bed, wrapping herself comfortably in her robe, “the truth isn’t going to help anyone, Adrian. This will destroy your reputation-”

He doesn’t respond at first, instead hastening over to the dresser to collect his blazer.

“Are you even listening to what I-” she huffs, running a frustrated hand across her face, “if you go public with this, you’ll lose business; you’ll lose credibility. Do you think anyone will want to remain associated with you if this gets out? You’ll be seen as a Playboy – it’ll ruin you.”

“Do you honestly think that I care how people perceive me?” He counters, shaking his head in disapproval at the notion as he collects the shoes and forces them onto his feet, “the only opinion I care about is my girlfriend's.”

“Ex-girlfriend.”

Adrian regards her with a warning glare, but it doesn’t deter her from following him when he moves towards the open kitchen; she grasps his arm, gently yanking him into step with her.

“If you tell her, you’ll lose her. She will walk and you will never hear from her again.”

“I cannot lie to her, Lena. I love and respect her too much to put her through that.”

He removes himself from her grip before heading for the door, not giving his companion a second thought. It is only when he has left the apartment that he hears it; her voice calling to him from the entryway, her tone sullen and defeated.

“You’re going to lose her, Adrian. She won’t forgive you.”

Adrian tenses at her words, but he doesn’t warrant enough time for pause, making a hurried beeline for the elevator doors.

Adrian sits in his car for what feels like forever, staring emptily at the steering wheel as he rakes over everything that has brought him to this moment, all the while unable to form a coherent thought.

After a while, he manages to focus just enough to start the engine, putting the car into gear before reversing out of the parking lot. His gaze remains fixated on the road, the city lights soon becoming blurry as fresh tears cloud his vision.

He sniffles once more, hastily wiping his eyes to clear his sight, yet his attention is abruptly caught by his Bluetooth as an all-too familiar ringtone echoes through the car. He glances down at the dashboard, his breath hitching in his throat as he spots the caller ID.

Amelia.

He tries his hardest to collect himself, waiting for the hammering in his heart to concede before answering the call, plastering a smile in the hope that his feigned happiness will seep into his tone.

“H-hey, sweetheart,” he waits momentarily before continuing, “are you alright?”

“I’m okay,” her response is laden with giddiness, “Happy Anniversary!”

He swallows harshly, his previous upset threatening to spill over once more. Amy waits patiently for a response, the sound of her soft hum causing Adrian to choke up, his next few words cloaked with sadness.

Anniversary…our Anniversary.

“H-Happy Anniversary, my love,” he stutters, “I-I’ll see you back at home, okay?”

“…Adrian?”

“Mmm?”

“You sound sad. Has something happened?”

He exhales sharply, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel, leaving an indent in their wake.

“N-no, I…” he hesitates, replaying Lena’s words in his mind, “actually…could…where are you?”

“I’m at the mall. I went to collect your anniversary gift.”

“Are you heading home soon?”

“Yeah,” there’s a brief pause as Amy thanks someone on the other line, “I just got myself a little caffeinated treat.”

“Have you already texted her about bringing you back?”

“Not yet,” she takes a sip of her drink, “why?”

“C-can I meet you at the pizza place?” He asks softly, “I…I need to talk to you about something.”

“Okay!” Her tone is hopeful, the cheeriness leaving a sharp pain in Adrian’s chest, “did you want me to get us a table?”

“N-no, I…I…I’ll be there in 10 minutes, alright?”

“I’ll wait for you outside, but I can’t promise that I won’t bring some doughballs home.”

Rather than laugh at her humorous response, Adrian remains quiet, clearing his throat in preparation to speak.

“I-I love you, Amelia…so very much.”

“I love you too,” she replies gently, “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

“Goodbye, sweetheart.”

He ends the call before she can bid her farewell, releasing a shaky breath as his fingers skim across the dashboard, selecting another name in his phonebook. He waits patiently for the call to be answered.

“Hello, brother.”

“I need you to do something for me. It…it’s important.”

“What is it?” Kamilah asks, the sound of her nails raking across her keyboard filling his ears before she continues, “normally you would text or ask me to meet up with you to discuss the issue.”

“I don’t have time for that,” he sighs, briefly casting his gaze down to the screen, “I need you to ring Amelia tonight.”

“Why do I need to do that?” She pauses, “is everything alright?”

“It is for the moment,” he replies, “but it won’t be for long.”

“What did you do?”

He wastes no time in relaying the previous nights mistakes to Kamilah, who remains eerily silent throughout his explanation. It is only when he finishes that she speaks, her once calm and warm demeanour shifting into one of anger and disbelief.

“I honestly don’t know what to say right now.”

“I know I messed up, Kami-”

“Messed up is an understatement,” she releases an agitated breath, “how could you do that to Amelia? I thought she meant something to you.”

“She does. That hasn’t changed.”

“Well she clearly isn’t as important to you as you make her out to be. You wouldn’t do that to her, otherwise.”

“I wasn’t thinking…”

“You were certainly thinking about something but it sure as hell wasn’t your girlfriend.”

He takes a deep, pained breath, resting the back of his head against the headrest.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do, Kamilah.”

“I should hope that you’re going to tell her the truth.”

“I am…” he pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head, “I just don’t know how I am going to tell her.”

“She needs to be told the truth. Nothing more, nothing less. Either way, this is going to upset her, so it doesn’t really matter how you deliver it.”

He nods in response, his voice seeming to crack as he talks, “could you be on standby should Amelia need somewhere to stay?”

“I am sure that she is more likely to seek out Lily’s company…but yes. I shall ensure that my guest room is ready for visitors should she need it.”

“Thank you, Kamilah. Truly.”

“Believe what you will, but I am not doing it for you. That poor girl is going to have her heart ripped apart tonight. She will need support as she tries to rebuild her life without you in it.”

He swallows thickly, his eyes beginning to brim with unshed tears.

“Y-you think that she will leave me?”

“You betrayed her, Adrian. The logistics of your relationship no longer matter. The trust and belief will be gone. If she cannot trust you, why would she stay?” There is a brief pause before she carries on, her tone sombre, as if telling someone about a loved one’s passing, “I need to end this call, now. I have a meeting in five minutes and I need to ensure that I am prepared.”

“O-okay.”

“Just promise me that you will not put her in a position that she feels as though she has no choice to forgive you.”

“I-I wouldn’t-”

“Promise me, Adrian. Forgiveness is to be earnt.”

“I won’t do that to her.”

“Good,” the sound of shuffling can be heard on her end, followed by the closing of a door, “I expect to hear from you after you have spoken to her. Regardless as to how I feel about this situation, you are still my brother.”

“Th-thank you.”

“Goodbye, Adrian.”

“G-goodbye.”

The call ends, leaving Adrian to contemplate his actions in silence, each second that passes by causing his chest to constrict further as he gets closer to his destination. He spends the last few minutes of his journey attempting to regulate his physical responses, not wanting to worry Amy further. He manages to get things under control briefly, but these feelings soon make their reappearance known as he sees her standing by the restaurant, rocking back on her heels as she looks down at the delicately wrapped box in her hands, her brows pinched in befuddlement as she studies the string. He pulls up alongside the curb before looking up her once more; she smiles brightly, giving him an excitable wave, but he finds himself unable to keep eye contact, his gaze swiftly dropping to his feet as she crosses the road to his car. The sound of a car door opening causes him to startle, but he settles once a familiar voice addresses him, her joyful aura resonating through the quiet.

"Hey!" She elevates the box, "I got the doughballs!"

He smiles softly, greeting her with a nod as she climbs inside.

“You really didn’t have to pick me up,” she speaks with gratitude, “but I am grateful.”

He nods once more, “not at all. I was on my way back, anyway. It made more sense than asking Lily to come out and collect you.”

She places the box on her lap, moving to fix her seatbelt.

“Here. Let me help.”

He reaches over, tenderly removing the buckle from her hand and clicking it into place.

“Thank you,” she beams up at him, but her happiness is short-lived, for it fades when she notices his reluctance to meet her gaze; she places a gentle hand on his arm, “Adrian?”

“Hmm?”

“Is something wrong?”

“It’s nothing that we need to talk about right now.”

He returns his attention to the road; Amy frowns, her hand retreating to her lap.

“H-Have I done something wrong?”

He reaches down, collecting a small book from the centre console before resting it on her thigh.

“Kamilah came to the office yesterday; she thought you’d like to have this.”

She looks down at the novel, the pad of her thumb tracing the threading on the spine.

“It…it looks quite old…”

“Mid 1800s.”

“I can’t accept this. I might damage it.”

“No you won’t,” he speaks stoically, “Kamilah wouldn’t have given it to you if she thought that you would cause harm.”

She smiles faintly, placing her palm against its cover.

“You…you said that you wanted to talk to me earlier. What do you want to speak to me about?”

He visibly tenses, “it can wait until we’re back home.”

“Is it bad?”

“We’ll talk when we return. We needn’t discuss it anymore.”

Amy turns away, resting her head against the doorframe as the car presses forward, neither of the pair uttering another word until they arrive back at the penthouse. As they head upstairs, Adrian’s mind begins to roam to a destination that he does not wish to wander into, not breaking out of his thoughts until Amy’s voice carries from the doorway.

“I forgot my key.”

He wordlessly moves forward, forcing his key into the lock; the door clicks, opening just a smidge.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he repockets his wallet, “I’ll be through in a couple of minutes.”

She nods in understanding, greeting him with a timid smile before entering, her hand lingering on the handle as she lifts her head, trying to make eye contact.

“Adrian?”

He reaches towards her, wordlessly caressing her face with his palm, his delicate fingertips taking refuge in her sun-kissed hair. She leans into his touch, only for him to remove his hand, forcing it into his pocket before he inches past her into the living room.

“I couldn’t remember what wine goes with pasta,” he utters quietly, moving towards the fridge; he opens the door, retrieving several bottles from the shelf, “so I brought a selection. You can choose whichever you’d like.”

“C-can we talk now?”

His face grows ashen, his jaw tightening as he attempts to busy himself.

“Did you want the fancy glasses out tonight? It is a special-”

“Adrian.”

He regards her with a look of feigned confusion.

“I-I wanted to talk after dinner.”

“Why?” She edges closer, taking pauses once she is standing a couple of feet away, “you barely spoke to me in the car, You’re changing the subject whenever I so much as mention a conversation,” she smiles sadly, “I’m worried about you, Adrian. Y-you’re being distant and that isn’t you…”

“I…”

“Talk to me,” she takes his hand between her own, giving his palm a compassionate squeeze, “please…”

He appears to dither, unsure as to what he should do; however, after reminding himself as to what he needs to do, he takes her dainty hand in his, “come with me.”

He leads her to the couch, gesturing for her to take a seat. She does so, watching nervously as Adrian perches tentatively beside her, his hand refusing to let go of her own as he lifts it up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles.

“Do you remember what I told you? A-about last night.”

She nods, “you met up with a friend.”

“I did,” he confirms, “her…h-her name is Lena.”

“Did you have a nice time?” She asks, her kind smile brightening with every word.

“We went to the bar,” he casts his gaze downwards, his hands remaining clasped around her own, the pad of his thumbs tracing soothing patterns across her skin, “we talked for a while and had a few drinks.” He pauses for a moment, as if replaying the night’s events in his mind like a broken record, “then s-something h-happened.”

She tilts her head out of curiosity, unsure as to what he means by his remark, her brows furrowed in confusion.

“I…I’m not following…”

“We went back to her apartment, Amelia,” he manages to meet her eyes, the next few words that escape his lips spoken with sincerity and remorse, “we…did things. Things that I…that you and I…”

“Y-you…you didn’t…”

He hesitates…but then weakly squeezes her hand, revealing his guilt through the wordless gesture.

One that doesn’t go unnoticed.

“I…I’m s-sorry,” he carries on through a shuddery whisper, “I-I’m so sorry….”

A sudden movement causes him to look over at his companion, a sharp pain digging its claws into his heart as he watches her slump forward, her elbows colliding harshly with her knees as her fingers grasp onto her hair, tugging slightly as her palms cup her face. At first, there is no sound, but it isn’t long before she starts to cry, her tears left to fall freely onto her skin without interference. His chest tightens further at the sight, but he finds himself unable to look away, watching in despair as she retreats into herself. He reaches for her, but his hand is quickly shirked off.

“A-Amelia-”

“Don’t touch me!”

He startles at the tone of her voice, but complies, removing his hand.

“I-I’m sorry.”

She sobs, shaking her head rapidly as she tries to comprehend what she is hearing, becoming more breathless by the second as she tries but fails to regulate her breathing. Noticing her struggle, Adrian removes himself from the couch, instead moving to kneel in front of her, his hands ghosting her arms as he attempts to provide her with some comfort.

“Amelia-”

“H-how c-c-could…”

“Breathe, Amelia. I-I need you to breathe-”

She shakes her head once more, her eyes slowly closing as even more tears begin to fall onto her cheeks, only to be soaked up by the hems of her sleeves as she tries in desperation to be rid of them.

He swallows thickly, cupping his mouth with his hand as the other gently reaches around her, rubbing soothing circles into her back.

“P-please d-don’t-”

“You’re breathing erratically, sweetheart. I-I can’t just s-sit here and let you make yourself-”

Before he can finish, she darts past him, making a beeline for the bathroom. He stands abruptly, following on after her, just for the door to be slammed in his face; he intends to wait a little while, giving her time to herself as she processes his revelation, though it isn’t long before the sound of nausea soon fills his ears; without thinking, he enters the room, his eyes soon befalling a sight that he never thought he’d see. Amy is knelt in front of the toilet, her arms resting on either side of the bowl, her long hair sticking to her stained cheeks as beads of sweat form on her forehead; the aftermath of sickness.

“Amelia…”

She slumps back down onto the floor, her breathing laboured.

Adrian moves over to the cabinet above the sink, collecting a fresh flannel from the shelf and running the tap; he soaks it in the water, returning to her side in an instant. He starts to dab at her forehead, guiding the material across her skin. She lifts her arm, blocking his access.

“Amelia, please-”

“I-I’m fine.”

“No you’re not,” he settles down beside her, attempting yet again to wipe her forehead, “now let me look after you.”

She swerves out of reach, holding onto the counter as she lifts herself from the floor, not wanting to overexert herself. He observes her with hesitancy for a while, moving to stand by the door, his face falling as the room clouds with tension.

"You need rest, sweetheart."

"I'm fine."

"I-I'll go and get you something to-"

"I don't want a-anything from you," her gaze darts to the doorway, "not anymore."

He nods in resignation, lowering his head.

"I can't fault you for that," he admits, "and I know that I don't deserve your time, but...will you hear me out? P-please?"

She doesn’t respond, but eventually nods, her arms wrapping tightly around her midsection as she follows him back to the living room. He sits down on the couch, patting the cushion beside him. She tries to walk over, but finds herself unable to move, as if her feet are rooted to the floor. Knowing that she cannot bring herself to do so, she shakes her head.

“I understand,” he trails off, a deep exhale escaping his lips as he lifts his head to meet her gaze, a sudden tightness grasping onto his heart as he lays eyes on her downcast expression, her eyes swiftly glazing over as they begin to well with unshed misery, “I never wanted to hurt you, Amelia. Y-you mean the world…you’re my…my e-everything…”

She sniffles at his declaration, silent tears trickling onto her cheeks as she turns herself away from him, her long hair seemingly shielding her emotions from visibility; though it initially works, her pain doesn’t cease to infiltrate her words, “d-did you e-ever really love me?”

“Of course I do,” he smiles sadly, “I never stopped loving you. I loved you yesterday, I love you today and I will love you tomorrow – nothing is going to change that.”

“Then w-why did you…”

“I can’t answer that, my love,” he moves to take her hand, gracing it with a gentle squeeze, the pad of his thumb stroking the inside of her palm, “I can’t give you a reason because I…I don’t have one.”

She swallows harshly, her gaze shifting to rest upon her feet.

“I cannot take back what I did; I know that…but I…I want to make it up to you. I want to prove to you that you are the one that I want. The ONLY one.”

“H-how…”

“Listen to me,” his tone softens further as he shifts on his feet, holding onto her as though his life depended on it, “I’m not asking for forgiveness. Not straight away. You are going to be angry…you are going to want to hurt me…to make me feel the pain that I have caused you and then some,” she shakes her head, this in turn causing his sad yet loving smile to return if only for a moment, “hell, you could call me every name under the sun and I wouldn’t argue back – I deserve all that and more.” He takes a breath, his eyes never leaving her own, “but please…don’t punish yourself for my actions. The choice I made…the man I became…that is on me and me alone.”

He gently caresses her face, pushing her hair back behind her shoulder, “you must not blame yourself for my choices. That is my burden to bear; it will never be yours.”

He begins to tear up again, becoming even more uncertain as to how this will play out.

“Just…t-tell me this isn’t over,” he sniffles, using his sleeve to quickly obscure his face momentarily from view, a strangled sob threatening to leave his throat, “p-please…t-tell me that I haven’t lost you.”

Their eyes meet for only a moment before she has no choice but to look away, her gaze drifting back down to her feet. She draws a shaky breath, folding her trembling hands within one another. Adrian shuffles towards her, resting a desperate yet hesitant hand on her elbow.

“P-please…” he focuses his attention on her face, fingertips trailing upwards to thread themselves in her hair as he tucks a stray strand behind her ear, “t-talk to me, sweetheart. P-please.”

She opens her mouth slightly in preparation to speak…

…but not a single word escapes her lips.

Instead, she turns abruptly, hurriedly retrieving her jacket before making a beeline for the elevator doors. Adrian is quick to follow, his voice hoarse and laden with despair.

“A-Amelia…d-don’t…p-please…”

Before he has a chance to finish, the elevator doors open; she shoulders her bag and walks inside, pressing the button for the ground floor. He calls her name, but when she doesn’t respond, he places his arm in front of the door, preventing it from closing.

“Adrian…”

“I��m not going to s-stop you from g-going,” he sniffles, shedding silent tears as he continues to plead, “just…l-let me call someone to t-take you home. It-it isn’t safe out there and…I couldn’t live with myself if something h-happened to you.”

The doors start to close and Adrian startles, the metal encountering his arm. He jerks back suddenly, not realising his error until it is too late for him to intervene.

“I-I love you, Amelia!”

She looks up at him then, but no words are spoken; instead, all Adrian can do is watch on helplessly as the doors finally seal.

Amy exhales slowly, releasing a shaky breath that she was seemingly holding; as the elevator begins its descent, she falls back against the metallic casing, sliding down the wall until her legs hit the floor. She instinctively draws her knees to her chest, her arms embracing them as she starts to sob, her head slowly burying itself into her folded arms.

Adrian calls for her , but his plea seems to fall on deaf ears, the whirring of the elevator as it descends drowning out his cries from above. He begins to weep, his forehead falling upon the cold metallic door, his legs a minute away from caving in on themselves. He retrieves his phone from his pocket and begins to draft a message, trying but failing to click send as his hands refuse to cease their trembling. Eventually, he manages to hit to correct button, refusing to glance down at the screen until the device vibrates, the colour immediately draining from his face as he sees the content of the message.

Amelia has already left the building.

#playchoices #choices bb #adrian raines #adrian x mc #choices: stories you play #choices fanfic #it's a LONG one

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mynotsohealthyobsession · 1 year ago

Text

Disembodied parte 5/8

Warning: Mention of death // Angst // Fluff

Pairings: Adrian Raines X MC // Nik Ryder X MC

Words: 1.313

As always, tags in the reblog!

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4

As always, tags in the reblog!

"I've been searching everywhere about this and let me tell you, it wasn't easy. It is a really rare condition." Ivy pulled a huge antique black book up, setting it on the table, opening a marked page. "Apparently, when Alex was attacked and Amy turned, their full powers were activated."

"And that put us in this freaky Friday situation?" Amy asked.

"Seems like it. Your energies were so strong that, when they were liberated into the world, somehow collided and mixed up resulting in the body exchange."

"Yeah yeah, all this is very interesting Ivy but we need a solution."

"Nik! Don't be an asshole!" He blinked. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't get used to Alex's words coming from Amy's body.

"Well, I've only found one possible solution." Ivy seemed a bit uncomfortable, keeping her red eyes glued to the page in front of her. "And I'm not even sure if it's going to work."

"Spill it, Ivy."

"They have to die again at the same time."

"Absolutely not!" Adrian stood, hitting the table with his palms, livid. "Amy's body is a vampire, if she dies, her body will turn into ash. There's no return from that."

"I agree with the bloodsucker." Nik added. "It is too risky."

"Call me that again and you'll see how much of a bloodsucker I can be." Amy noticed the irritated tone in Adrian's voice.

"I would like to see you try it." Nik responded, smugly.

"Is that so?" Adrian's eyes turned crimson as his fangs appeared above his bottom lip.

"Adrian!" Amy called him, softly holding his hand. Instead of relaxing, like he always does with her touch, he tensed up for a moment. After all, it wasn't really her skin that was brushing his.

"I need a moment." He said as he walked out of the conference room door. "If you’ll excuse me." And he disappeared from their sight. Amy sadly stood too, following him.

"I'm going to go talk to him."

"Take your time." Alex said and Amy nodded.

"Adrian." She found him in the lobby, pacing around, anger and frustration twisting his handsome features. "Just ignore him."

"It's not him that troubles me, Amy." He took off his blazer, throwing it somewhere.

"No?"

"Of course not!" He loosened his tie just a bit, looking annoyed and clearly stressed. "It's that damn idea! The risk that entails it is too great!"

"I'm going to do it." Adrian froze and Amy sat on one of the couches, anxiously biting her bottom lip.

"Amy…"

"If Alex agrees, I want to try it." Unconsciously, she looked down at her hands, noticing, once more, that they weren't her own. Instead, she fixed her stare on Adrian's back.

"It's a terrible idea, Amy. You could die."

"I know. But keeping this up isn't an option."

"It is an option. And an excellent alternative if you avoid death." Amy stood and walked in front of him.

"Look at me." She cupped both sides of his face, forcing his gaze at her. "This isn't me, Adrian and you know it. I feel shallow and incomplete. I can't even look at my reflection." She sadly smiled at him. "Since I came back, you haven't been able to kiss me, not once."

"It's not that I don't want to, it's just…" He hesitated.

"It feels wrong, I know. I’m not blaming you." Amy avoided his eyes, self-consciously. "But I miss it. I miss being a bloodkeeper, being with you, my job, my own face, my body." She blinked fast. "I miss the way you used to look at me. So much it hurts." Adrian pulled her into a comforting hug. "I want to experience being a vampire with you and our friends." She sniffed against his shoulder. "I miss me and my life. That's what makes the risk worth it."

"Okay." Adrian closed his eyes, threading his finger through that hair that felt so different from hers. "If that's your decision, then it's okay. I'll be there for you."

"Thank you." She whispers, her voice cracking.

***

"You didn't call me."

"What?" Alex turned to watch Nik's serious profile.

"When you woke up here, you didn't call me." His tone was indifferent but something similar to hurt resounded behind his words.

"I wasn't sure you would believe me. And…" She noticed that Ivy wasn't on the screen, only the open book was on camera, probably to give them privacy and would return in a moment. "Everything that happened before Thomas' attack was too fresh. Still is."

"Alex, I–"

"No. I said not today." She interrupted him. "You already said what you want. In-depth at that." Alex's voice hardened, getting upset. "I can't nor want to handle that talk right now."

"Okay." Nik crossed his arms over his chest. He stood, walking over to the window that overlooked the lobby, watching Alex hugging Raines. He shook his head. Amy was hugging the bloodsucker, not Alex. Either way, the jealousy he felt was way too strong for his liking. "But at some point, we will need to talk about it." She let out an ironic little chuckle.

"You are not going to decide that." Alex stood too, peeking through the same window. She took a second to observe the scene downstairs. Even though it was strange, to say the least, seeing herself having that intimacy with Adrian, she barely knew the guy, but she was happy for them. Adrian and the others had been very kind to her the past few weeks. "Did you notice it? That something was different?"

"Obviously. But I just thought you were pissed off at me."

She smirked despite herself. "I am pissed off at you." Alex watched how Amy and Adrian separated from each other. How his hand cupped her cheek and she covered it with hers, kissing his palm. How close they seemed. And how much she wanted to feel that way. Her gesture was more serious as her mind remembered the night of Mardi Gras. "You really hurt me."

"I know. I–" Before Nik could say anything else, the door opened and Adrian and Amy walked through it.

"My apologies, are we interrupting something?"

"Nothing that can't wait." Alex went closer to the screen. "Ivy, are you there?"

"Coming!" One second later, she sat in front of the pc.

"Are you certain that that's the only possible solution?" Adrian questioned her, standing by Amy.

"As far as I know."

"But it's impossible." Nik crossed his arm, leaning against the window behind him. "They can't actually die."

"But if we make it seem like they did?" Ivy said, going through another book.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, there's a drug that will stop their vital signs, simulating that they are dead. Maybe that's enough to trigger the change." She read a page while talking. "It is still risky because it can actually kill them but a bit safer than wounding them."

Amy looked at Alex. "I'm up to try it if you are."

"Me too. Where can we find this drug, Ivy?"

"It's more like a potion. You need to make it."

"Can you prepare it in your lab?" Amy questioned Adrian and he nodded.

"Yes, I rebuilt them." Ivy's curiosity perked up, looking excited at him.

"You have a lab? Like a vampire lab? You have to let me see it! I–" Adrian smiled at her enthusiasm before Nik interrupted her.

"Ivy. The potion."

"Yeah, right." She clicked on the pc. "I'm sending you the receipt now." Nik opened it on the screen.

"Mh." Adrian read the recipe attentively. "It's complex, no doubt, but possible. I can have it done probably in one or two days." "So, it's decided," Amy said with the same determination that Adrian had seen before she stabbed Gaius. "As soon as Adrian finishes the potion, we will test the theory."

✨️

#choices stories you play #playchoices #choices fanfiction #adrian raines x mc #adrian raines #fanfiction writer #nik ryder x mc #nik ryder #disembodied serie

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