#i felt like a victorian man seeing a woman's ankles

[orukadoruka]

mlynar sketch dump bc his skin is coming to en soon (im so normal) and congrats logos for being playable (im very normal)

[rynbutt]

pierced. | spencer reid.

Moving into a new apartment in a new city is stressful, what's even more stressful is when there's a fucking murder in the apartment across from yours... at least the fbi agent is cute.

you can find the other parts on my masterlist.

cw: fem!reader, 18+ piercing, fluffyish, reader has pierced tiddies, flirting, wondering if i should do a part 2 fr

a/n: coming from a pierced nipple girly who wants a cute boy to knock on her door. also enjoy <3 and follow >:) also yay for the first thing i've posted :3

You let out an exasperated sigh as you collapsed another cardboard box.

Moving into a new apartment was fun in theory, but the practice of filtering through everything you own and finding a neat little spot for it? not so much. You took a long sip from your now cold cup of coffee before glancing across the room at the looming pile of cardboard boxes that just stood there and mocked you.

You picked up the next box of what was probably clothes and took a box cutter to the almost twenty layers of tape across the seam (it wouldn't stay closed, in retrospect you should have made up another box but you were really determined to make it fit at the time).

You ripped the rest of the tape off and put your hands on your hips, glancing at your cat Tofu on the couch.

"Care to help?" you asked... the cat. Tofu proceeded to curl into herself and begin grooming tubby belly. "I guess not."

There was an abrupt knock on your apartment door, Tofu scattering to the wind at the sudden sound. You furrowed your brows, confused as to why anyone would be knocking on your door.

You had moved here a matter of days ago, knew no one and were far too broke for doordash. You ignored it for a moment, thinking whoever resided on the other side of the door had the wrong apartment. When the knock came again, you thought you'd better answer this time.

You opened the door ajar, just in case it was someone who wanted to steal any of the maybe four things you'd managed to unpack. A tall darker skinned man looked down at you, "Yes?"

"Hi ma'am, I'm Agent Morgan and this is Dr. Reid, we're with the FBI," he introduced himself, holding up his credentials for you to peek at. You opened the door the rest of the way, glancing at the second tall man standing in your door way. He had messy hair just below his ears and was wearing a collared shirt with two black pens tucked into the pocket over his chest, he was cute. He pulled his lips into a tight line and held his hand up in a wave.

Spencer's eyes glanced down your body briefly. He has certainly seen some strange outfits when people answer their doors but none that made his skin run hot like this.

You wore a baby blue tank top and grey adidas shorts, he could see a small sliver of skin between your two garments but that's not what caught his eye. You had your nipples pierced.

Now, Spencer really didn't mean to stare but they were right there. The air of your apartment was clearly chilly given how your nipples pressed against the fabric. He could see the little studs on either side of your hardened nipples and he felt like a Victorian boy seeing an ankle for the first time.

"Oh no, you found me," you joked, laughing at yourself lightly. They didn't laugh. Your smile dropped, "I'm joking. Uh, come in, please." You stood aside, letting the two men into your basically bare apartment.

"Just move in?" Morgan asked, looking around your small living room.

"Uh, yeah, yeah. I'm starting a new job in a week," You replied, trying to make small talk. "What exactly are you here for?"

"There was a murder in the apartment across from yours," Dr. Reid said abruptly, stealing the air from your lungs.

Your eyes were blown wide, "What?"

"Young woman like you, stabbed to death-"

"Reid," Morgan warned, shaking his head softly at the younger man.

"Shit, that sucks," you replied, glancing between the two men. "I assume you're talking to me because I live close by, huh?"

"It's just procedure," Morgan replied. "Can you tell me where you were around 11pm last night?"

"Uh, yeah. I was here, I had a lot to unpack, you know?" You replied honestly, wondering how you didn't hear that someone was being murdered across the hall.

"And you didn't hear anything?" Morgan asked, eyebrows furrowed as he stood to face you.

"No, no I honestly didn't. I had my headphones on while I was unpacking, I went to bed around midnight." Were you incriminating yourself? Maybe you should make some friends so you don't get caught up in this kind of stuff.

"The UnSub we're looking for is white male, mid 20s to 30s, seems out of place. Have you seen anyone like that around?" Dr. Reid asked.

"No, I mean, I just moved here, I don't know anyone. I haven't left my apartment since I got here," you replied, looking Dr. Reid in the eye. You caught him glancing down at your boobs for a moment before he caught himself, clearing his throat.

It was only then that you realised what you were wearing. Fuck. Two FBI agents, one of whom was your type to a T came to question you about a murder and your nipples were gazing upon the world like a deer in headlights.

You quickly crossed your arms across your chest before scampering across the room to grab your hoodie off your couch. You pulled it over your head before staring at the two men awkwardly, your skin feeling hot.

"I'm sorry about... my attire, I didn't even-"

Morgan smiled, chucking softly, "Please, this is your home, sweetheart." Morgan glanced at Spencer, who suddenly found the ceiling utterly fascinating. "You mind if I have a look around? We suspect he used the fire escape."

"Of course, yeah. You can see it from the bedroom," you replied, being left alone with the cute doctor. "You seem young to be a doctor," you said softly, trying to make small talk.

"Scarring, tearing and nerve damage is possible when you get your," he coughed, "nipples pierced... infections and bleeding are also common," he quickly said, lips pulled into a tight line.

"Mm, cute and smart... well, I've had them for five years so... I think I'm safe, Dr. Reid," you replied with a chuckle.

"Spencer," he muttered.

"Huh?"

"Spencer, it's my name. Spencer Reid," he said, hands clutched tightly around the strap of his leather satchel.

"Spencer," you smiled, "I'm Y/N."

"Well, we better get out of your hair," Morgan returned from your room, glancing between you and Spencer for a moment. "Let's go, Reid."

You opened the door for them, Morgan thanked you as he left and started down the hall to the elevator. Spencer paused for a moment, glancing at you for briefly before walking out the door.

"Hey," you called softly. Spencer spun around to look at you and you definitely couldn't let him escape without your number. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

"Uh, girlfriend? I, uhm-"

"He doesn't!" Morgan called from down the hall, making you smile.

"You don't know that!" Spencer retorted, making a face at Morgan who was grinning.

"So... you do?" You asked.

"...No, I don't." He muttered.

"Okay, well," you laughed, plucking the pen from the pocket of Spencer's shirt. "Call me sometime," you scribbled your name and number with a little heart onto a scrap piece of paper that once wrapped your toaster.

"Yes... Okay, I will," he replied nervously, holding your number in his hands gently. He glanced at it, a smile beaming across his handsome face.

"You, uh, might wanna go before your partner loses it," you giggled after a beat. Spencer muttered a quick 'oh' before walking quickly toward the elevators.

"Bye," Spencer said softly, waving at you with a little smile.

"Bye, Dr. Reid!"

Spencer stepped into the elevator with Morgan, the silence palpable in the tiny mental container.

"'Bye, Dr. Reid~'," Morgan raised his voice an octave, planning to tease Spencer relentlessly and text the group chat as soon as they got to the car.

"Shut up!"

reblog and follow me :3 also come chat, i love to yap.

dividers by @cafekitsune

[j-jinxee]

[ ⟡​ ] — KEEP QUIET,,

NSFW under the cut! ⊹ Nijiro x Reader

[warnings — quickie, p in v, unprotected, swearing, cumming inside, semi public]

-,' syn – Nijiro needs an outlet for his adrenaline. Shooting fight scenes as Kazutora and then having to wait for others to shoot theirs, it's throwing him off more than usual tonight.

[AN] no cuz guys, Nijiro literally never shows his arms. Like bro is always wearing long sleeves, jackets, or yk just baggy shirts in general. So this 40 second clip of him (where he's literally just in his own little world on the TR set) WEARING A SINGLET like I can't deal fr, I feel like a Victorian man seeing a woman's ankles for the first time, like it's driving me up the wall.

─────

"mm-ngh! Niji, fuck" your small whines were quickly silenced by Nijiro's hand covering your mouth. He had previously swept you away from the set, you weren't acting in the Tokyo Revengers movie but since your boyfriend was, you watched from behind the camera with the rest of the crew. It was so cool seeing your boyfriend in his element, you usually weren't allowed to be with the crew since you don't actually work for them, but the TR production was pretty laid back and let you stay to watch. Which is what you were doing, until about 5 minutes ago.

Nijiro was frustrated with the way they were filming. Usually they'd film a single characters scenes all at once, so they wouldn't have their actors coming on and off constantly, but for some reason they changed it for tonight. The night where Nijiro had to film his biggest fight scene.

It was really pissing him off, the way he'd get fully committed to the character, and then be told to go off and take 5 because they needed to shoot someone else. Why would they change the formula? It was perfect the way it was, now the production will suffer.

And above all else, Nijiro was told to take 5 right when his adrenaline would reach its peak. Naturally, he needed an outlet, a way to keep his energy up. Luckily, his favourite thing to put his energy into was standing right infront of him.

"keep quiet f'me baby.." he whispered, gently covering your mouth with his hand. The only lighting in the bathroom being from the dim street lamps outside, increasing the secretive atmosphere. You were pinned against the bathroom wall as Niji buried himself in your cunt, practically imprinting his shape into your walls. Your eyes travelled down to his arms, fuck. You mentally thank the costume team for finally getting Nijiro to wear a singlet, he never wore shirts that showed off his arms, so you made sure to remember this session over the rest. His sweat gleamed in the faint warm light, decorating his neck and collarbones, your eyes fixated on his fake neck tattoo. Fuck, you'd have to convince him to cosplay or something after this, the sight mixed with the pleasure he gave you was making your head spin.

His arms and shoulders flexed with each thrust as he held you up by your thighs, fucking into you like this was the last time he'd ever get. It took everything in you not to scream out his name, along with a nicely crafted string of cuss words, letting everyone hear how good he fucks you. Small whimpers were the most you could let out, not wanting Niji to get punished for having a quickie mid set.

"You're so good f'me... fuck baby" His voice was intoxicating, his touch made you feel ways you've never felt before. Your arms rested over his shoulders, not that they needed to — his strong hold kept you up with no issue. You were sure that if he fucked you any harder, you'd end up bringing down the wall you were currently pinned up against. He felt the need to groan louder, feeling it build — his mouth soon found your neck, sucking on your sweet spots, only bringing you closer to the edge.

You felt Nijiro's hips stutter, followed by his teeth digging into your skin a little harder than before.

"m-mmh cum, cum with me baby" His hot breath laced your jawline as he rutted into you faster than ever. Feeling that familiar knot in your stomach about to snap, you couldn't stay silent anymore.

"mmh- cumming.. cummingcummingcummi- ahh!" You cried into his neck. Shortly met with the feeling of your walls being painted by Niji's hot white seed, filling you up, keeping you warm. You could swear you saw heaven for a second, his touch made you drunk, reaching a state of euphoria you could never get anywhere else.

His arms gently let you back down, still keeping you steady with your bodies pressed together as you could barely stand. Whispering sweet praises in your ear as his hand went down to fuck his cum back into you, not letting any leak out. You smiled weakly as his words laced your eardrums, almost forgetting he was in the middle of his job.

"Nijiro! Wherever you are, you're back on in two." The director shouted.

"Fuck, 'm sorry baby. I'll take care of you when we're home ok? I love you" He said, getting his pants back on at the speed of light. Not bothering to wash his hands, but instead resorting to licking your combined juices off his fingers, and with a quick kiss to your cheek, he was gone.

You knew he'd keep his word, now all you'd have to do was wait till you got home to recieve his aftercare.

can't wait.

[captain-mj]

In the past I feel like you’ve said ‘I was just waiting for an ask so I could post this’ so this is an ask to give you that excuse completely. I request that thing you just really want to write. Use it at anytime you want. We love your writing.

Please let me read that thing you want to write !!!

*non normal noises*

i will absolutely take you up on this!! Ghost and Soap sparring angst edition, rather short, kinda clunky, very self indulgent for me.

Soap had never seen Ghost spar. Ever. He didn't get why. It felt like everyone should spar, just to keep their skills sharp. Maybe no one asked him? Whenever Ghost was in the gym, which was shockingly rare from what Soap saw but maybe he just went at different times, people avoided him. It would make sense if no one wanted to spar with him.

Maybe that's why it was so strange that today, someone asked Ghost to spar and he said yes. It made Soap wonder if he'd always say yes, just no one asked.

Ghost wrapped his hands and pulled off his jacket. Soap's attention was immediately caught on the wrist that was exposed at this move. In his head, he could hear Gaz calling him a Victorian woman seeing ankle.

Ghost had the other person fight him and it was clear he wasn't trying very hard. He was almost playful about the moves that would send the other guy sprawling to the ground. "Come on, private. You can hit me harder than that." He assured before yanking them back up.

A few other people stopped what they were doing to watch, several grimacing when Ghost sent the private tumbling. "Ah come on Simon, you're going easy on him!"

Soap watched Ghost... flinch wasn't the right word. His shoulder jerked up slightly, as if to cover his ear and block out what the guy was saying. The private managed to get a hit on him and Ghost cuffed his head to force him back.

"Get him, Carter!" Someone yelled and Ghost's shoulder jerked up again. He started to dodge the private's attacks instead of fighting back.

Soap sensed something was wrong and started to look for a way to de-escalate. He wasn't sure what was setting Ghost off, but he didn't want anyone to get hurt.

The private lunged at him in a rather unprofessional move. It managed to get Ghost on his back but it also flicked the switch.

Ghost grabbed the private and really hit him. No sense of hesitation or carefulness. The private's head snapped back and he quickly started to back up.

"There ya go Riley!" Someone jeered and Soap thought for a moment he was mocking him.

Ghost grabbed the private and started to hit him harder. For a moment, the world felt frozen as everyone who watched went from entertained to horrified.

The private tried to wrap his legs around Ghost to flip him but the man was a brick wall.

Someone started to scream for Price and people were moving quickly but Soap didn't bother with that. He just ran at Ghost, slamming into him to get him off of the private.

Ghost was feral, actually snapping his teeth at Soap despite the mask between them. "Fuck off. Fuck off. Fuck off."

Soap tried to pin Ghost and quickly found himself on his stomach, arm bent behind his back. He saw the private quickly scrambling to get away, blood dripping from his nose with a limp.

Soap struggled with Ghost, trying to get out of the pin he was in. His arm was slowly being twisted further and further up his back and he thought for a brief moment that his arm would pop out of his socket.

Price yanked Ghost off of him. "Simon, you're okay. You're alright. I promise."

Ghost kicked at the ground aggressively but didn't hit Price. He huffed and snarled. "Fuck you."

"You're fine. I promise. You're alright." Price held Ghost tight until his breathing evened out. "So. I think sparring is still of the table for you."

"Just wanted to try."

"What happened?"

"I was back in the ring." Ghost grunted, trying to pull away from Price who simply yanked him back down.

Soap tested his arm. It was his bad arm and he couldn't quite feel his fingers. "Ring?"

"Fighting ring." Ghost explained. "Couldn't let them win."

Soap shivered, wondering when the fuck he would've been in a fighting ring

[w0nst4rz]

ovulation week is not funny. whenever i see riize i felt like a victorian man seeing a woman’s ankle for the first time.

[cometrose]

i have so many passionate feelings about zhongli’s wrists and arms and i feel if i don’t say anything ill shrivel up and die anyway

Anyway here are my own personal thoughts cause its not good to keep your feelings bottled up you risk dying

anyway i love the gold i love the black, i love the gold veins and i love the black geo hands encrusted with gold cracks, i love the transition from gold to black

i always imaged a transition from human zhongli to his dragon adepti form. Like he starts off with gold veins then his hands turn gold then the rest of his arms turn black. Since the now exuvia has dark scales and a golden mane, as he transformed the black would turn into scales all over his body like across his torso, before the rest of his draconian appendages pop out, his tails his horns, but his head and feet are the last to change and then poof you have dragon morax.

Zhongli's gold has always been one of my favorite parts about him specifically his arms, like i love sleeveless outfits so when he showed up kind of swooned. I always kind of imaged that Zhongli's current vessels are forged from geo itself so if you were to cut him open all his black and gold elemental exterior would kind of drip out.

anyway personal favorite is the huge geo hands that surround him in the liyue cutscenes. I love the imagery of his "own" hands encasing him and holding him up before the world.

zhongli's pretty conservative except his archon statue displayed all over the nation for some reason but dont get me started on his body. i never felt that the gold was only on his arms i fully believe that is all over his torso like listen to me listen to me look at the exuvia look at zhongli now look back at the evuvia i want you to go through the aforementioned transformation steps i just mentioned and then walk with me, his entire chest can be gold and black and shit that is what i believe and that is the truth because i am never wrong and zhongli whispered it into my ear after we spent a passionate night together anway

when it comes to his wrists i believe his just controls how much it glows and how much power he displays. I have said this before sometimes his hands are black sometimes theyre gold and we've seen zhongli's wrists before and sometimes theyre pale and sometimes they go all the way up his foream so i really think he just fucks with it. Like Morax Mode he is loaded up with geo elemantal energy he's black and gold all over but in a casual setting only traces of gold remain

i would kill to see the big ass geo hands like really like really im begging im really crying please

anyway i just wanted to talk about it and i felt letting myself fester with this deep and fervent lust and longing was only going to make me unwell LIKE CAN YOU IMAGINE THE BLACK TURNING TO SCALES WHEN HE GETS SERIOUS THINK ABOUT IT THATS SO COOL

but zhongli wants to be a little pampered princess consultant so one can only imagine what the rest of his body looks like all we see are his silly feeties and his hands and wrist i feel like a victorian man seeing a woman's ankle like kya kee scandal this is a man in the most prudish outfit ever like he got that shit on permanently which in reality only begs the question of why his archon statue is like that when zhongli himself is always fully fucking covered why were you half naked his nipples are out and everything?

tldr: i think zhongli's whole body glows black and gold like everything glows only his extremities like his head and feet are spared but hes a natural shapeshifter so he probably does whatever i just really live glowing appendages

[bittersweet-folder]

HI HELLO DID YOU SEE MINGYU'S ADD?!?!!!!!??! IK GOINH INSANW RHTAGRIFKDOANQKRJQJKRLQ I SERIOUSLY CAN'T HANDLE HIM ANYMORE

I JUST CAN'T DEAL WITH THAT MAN ANYMORE I WENT FERAL WHEN I SAW THAT ADD. LIKE SOME KINDA VICTORIAN MAN WHO SAW A WOMAN'S BARE ANKLE FOR THE FIRST TIME 😀

It felt so wrong to look at him but like that's a add- we are meant to watch it but like- YK WHAT I MEAN RIGHT!?

Btw here's something ☺☺ suffer with me 😀

[aliensubstance-011]

Hi hello I absolutely adore your band AU!! I was wondering if you have any thoughts on the band's appearances, like clothes/hair dye/etc.? Especially given you've mentioned things past highschool

I rlly rlly want to draw these dorks practising together and want to stay true to your ideas :3

Hello I saw this just before I was going to go to sleep and then laid awake Thinking About It for the next 30 minutes so here I am!

Under the cut because there's a LOT!!

Richie

He layers just as badly as in canon

So in my head it goes:

Long sleeved stripey T-shirt

then a graphic short tee on top (which eventually becomes a band T-shirt nearer then end of senior year when Steph joins the band! (And when I design the logo lmao))

THEN a zip up hoode

I'm not done

Then a leather jacket he found at a garage sale (it's slightly too big for him normally so it fits over everything else.)

Ripped jeans + belt chains

He has one of those goth belts with all the metal eyelets in it

Boots!! He has loads of different coloured laces he wears each day!!

And ofc he has his blue hair

He has his ears pierced too- he has these skeleton studs and they're all he wears.

Oh and the green and black bracelet Max eventually makes when he becomes the band's friend. It's tied onto his belt loops every morning.

Peter

Pretty similar to canon in my head

He takes off his suspenders and bowtie when they practice though (he feels safe then)

His hair is longer! He wears it in a man bun because it made him feel more masc before he came out to everyone (in middle school)

When he felt more comfortable (and after he came out) he decided to keep his hair long and the man bun just kind of stuck

He gets an undercut maybe? I can't decide in whether that's good or not.

He had LOADS of ear piercings (industrial, tragus, three on each lobe, conch, helix) but he's too scared to get facial ones somehow

He wears dangly earrings in his main lobe piercing

After he makes friends with Steph and stops wearing his suspenders+bowtie altogether he unbuttons and untucks his shirt during practice.

(Steph almost passes out the first time he does this. She can see his collar bones. Victorian woman seeing ankle for the first time core)

Richie clips a short chain onto his belt loops "So we match!"

His yellow and orange bracelet becomes his hairband- you can't usually see it unless you're looking for it/it's in a ponytail

Ruth

Ruth was actually so so difficult for me to decide

Her normal style just goes so hard yknow?

I think she starts wearing Docs like Richie

But she just has rainbow laces and that's it she doesn't change them

She gets a leather jacket too and paints the band logo on (badly)

The band tee she'll wear but it'll be over-sized and half tucked in

Logo front and back babey!!

I don't know what else for Ruth so if you have any ideas please feel free to use them

Her blue and white bracelet is just on her wrist like a normal person lmao

Steph

Nose piercing Nose piercing!! She has a little ring

Her style is already SO SO good for the band AU!!!

She has fingerless leather gloves

She also has tattoos methinks

The beginnings of a rose + thorns sleeve on her left arm

And a shitty stick and poke star on her right wrist (over her veins) she got when she was 16- it's started to fade so she gets other stars tattooed on her wrist around it (one for each band member?)

She's the one who commissions an artist to design the logo, and gets t-shirts made for each of them!!

She, and Ruth both get the logo put on leather jackets. Steph's is proper vintage and is more of a biker jacket though.

She tries to convince Richie and Peter to get ones too, but Richie doesn't want to damage his jacket and Peter refuses to wear one at all (he won't wear the shirt either)

(She catches him using it as a sleep shirt. She teases him about it for weeks)

She cuts her band top into a crop top but she doesn't always wear it.

She dyes the tips of her hair red for while

But it fades into pink weirdly quick

So she dyes it back to her normal ombre

Steph's pink bracelet hangs from a hole made in one of her drumsticks. Her bracelet was made first (Max cried when he saw it)

Max

Max isn't technically part of the band

But he is their #1 fan forever and ever

So he has a shirt too that he wears to all of their (eventual) gigs!! The logo is a bit faded/damaged and washed out because he keeps washing it the wrong way

He has a scar in his eyebrow from when Steph punched him after she first joins the band (this kickstarts his redemption.) (Punchstarts?)

And he has his purple and yellow bracelet around his wrist!

I still haven't figured out how to fit Grace into this AU at all. I do HC that she thinks all music other than Christian Music is Of The Devil™ and she plays the flute but that's about it honestly... One of these days I'll figure something out

[hyunpic]

they got hyunjin in a v cut shirt and i have never felt more like a victorian woman seeing some ankle for the first time like “anyone know how to reach this man ://“

[joe-moi]

https://www.tumblr.com/joe-moi/736732029300932608/na-ah-wait-if-i-see-joseph-with-shorts-im-out-girl

seeing his legs in the hoard clip was so weird I felt scandalized like a Victorian man seeing a woman’s ankle for the first time…

apparently JQ is fully nude in Hoard like ass out and everything and idk if I can handle that. Seeing his legs was crazy enough

well not everything no coco!

If Americans ever see it…..I’ll be scandalized

[megumis-eyelashes]

TGCF donghua was such a wild experience. Every episode I felt like a Victorian man seeing a woman's ankle for the first time on the verge of fainting but instead it was me seeing Hualian just looking at each other tenderly or barely touching.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

sweet as honey, hard as nails

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; fingering, fisting, squirting, kidnapping, spanking/whipping, some allusions to breeding.

This is dark! nomad Steve Rogers x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You’re trapped by more than four walls, trapped between the past and the present.

Note: Thanks to @lokislastlove​ for helping me brainstorm. I was just hungering for some good nomad.

Thanks to everyone for sticking around and putting up with me and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

The light pad of your feet on the wooden floor was punctuated by the metallic clink, softened as you stepped onto the rug between the couch and the fireplace. You barely noticed the subtle weight around your ankle anymore. You barely remembered anything but those walls, the quilt spread neatly over the bed, the portrait of a woman in a Victorian era farm dress watching a field of sheep, the wooden bowl you filled with fruit from the garden.

The dress flowed around your figure as you strode to the counter and filled the sink with hot water from the tap. You slid the stack of plates into the suds and dropped the utensils on top. You watched the basin fill and took a gulp of the pollen-laced air blowing in through the open window before you. 

From there, you could see the garden and the swing that faced the endless forest. You could hear the birds and the critters chirping and searching for food. You sometimes saw the tawny fur of a deer between the brush or the red tail of a fox. The serenity of the place was deceiving.

You focused on your work, the plates printed with pinecones around the trim. They were old but worthless antiques, each piece in the cupboard matched, uniform and perfect, just like the life built for you in that cabin. You drained the sink and dried the dishes one at a time as you hummed. You were tone deaf but there wasn’t much else you could do to fill the lull.

You closed the cupboard and hung the towel on the bar. You looked at your wrinkled hands as you strode blindly around the couch. The metal at your ankle stopped you as the long chain wrapped around the furniture in your carelessness. You stopped and stared at the door and the heavy iron bolt above the handle.

Your eyes clung to the dark wood but you saw beyond. In your mind, you descended those steep stairs and sat against the cold concrete again. You closed your eyes. Don’t think of it, don’t. It only made it all worse.

⛓️then⛓️

You shivered as you hugged yourself in the corner of the dark space. There was no light, only shadows around you. It was cold and only the fleece blanket left for you kept you from chattering uncontrollably. You blew into your hands and sank down further as you heard the footsteps again, just above you on the groaning wooden floor.

It was an hour, maybe two, since you’d woken in that place. Your head hurt and a fog obscured your mind. You remember the beach, your sister laughing as you hopped from one leg to the other and whined that you would end up peeing in the water. You slipped into your sandals and left her on her towel. 

You heard the choppy waves, the lake growing more and more uneven in the last days of summer. You went early before the afternoon made the water too cold to bear. The sand weighed down your steps and you didn’t know if you’d make it in time.

You flew into the stinky stall just between the parking lot and the trails down to the lake. You hovered over the hole and relieved yourself with a shaky moan. It hurt but felt so good. You rinsed your hands in the foot-pump sink and swung the door open. That’s as far as you remembered.

The footsteps stopped at the door that stood at the top of the stairs, as they had several times before. You couldn’t reach them as the chain around your ankle kept you on the other side of the musty basement. That time, the latch turned and the door opened slowly with a creak. A light broke the blackness and a figure appeared above you.

You counted his steps, eleven. It was a him, you could tell by his broad silhouette, the way he walked, almost like a soldier. When he got to the bottom, he set something down on the bottom step and marched through the dark to the corner opposite you. You trembled but not from the cold.

Click. The lantern glowed suddenly and cast his tall form in a yellow haze. He turned back, you could make out his nose, long and slightly bent in the middle, his square jaw and the thick fuzz of his beard, and the line of his brow above the shadowed eyes. He went back to the stairs and took the tupperware and the water bottle. He neared and set them down before you.

You leaned into the wall and covered your face. You were terrified, still in nothing more but your onepiece beneath the blanket. You smelled like the lake, the sand, and the sun. He knelt and pulled the lid off the container. You still didn’t move, hiding behind your hands as you tried not to cry.

“Eat,” he said tersely.

You didn’t move, didn’t look, just hoped you could dissolve into the wall. He said your name and you gulped loudly. You parted your fingers and looked between them at him. You still couldn’t make out his whole face, just the shape of it, just the impenetrable wall of his body.

“Go on, eat,” he ordered again, “and don’t forget your manners.”

You slowly dropped your hands and reached over the top of the blanket. You kept your eyes on him, afraid he might grab you, hit you, or worse. You took a piece of the cut up chicken breast with your fingers as he nodded and stood.

“Thank you,” you rasped.

“Good girl,” he said and retreated, “you keep it up and you won’t be down here too long.”

⛓️now⛓️

You flinched and your trance broke. Your eyes were wet and you quickly wiped the tears away before they could trickle down your cheeks. You turned away and retraced your steps so that the chain slackened at your ankle. You went back to the counter and gripped the edge. You gazed out the window but not for too long, it only hurt more.

You pulled out the thick flanks of venison from the fridge and seasoned them, rubbing the cold meat until it was fragrant. You chopped it into chunks and fried it in a pan, the natural fat and oil spitting out at you.

You mixed together the dough in a bowl and rolled out the pastry thin before you laid it in the pan. You added veggies to the mix on the stove and added some more spice. You used the dripping for a gravy and added it back in. You filled the shell and crimped the edges as you stretched the top of the pie over the savoury innards.

You turned on the small stove, a fixture straight out of the sixties, and shoved the pie onto the rack. You rinsed your hands one last time and your eyes were drawn back to the window. You heard the crunch of leaves and fervent breaths, whimpers as another set of steps hammer close behind. You close your eyes.

⛓️then⛓️

You had no shoes, your naked feet scratched and scraped in the twigs and dirty, errant branches catching at your dress and whipping your bare arms. You didn’t know where you were going, you didn’t know where you were, you just needed to run until you found someone who could save you. Until he couldn’t find you.

You heard him getting closer and closer. He was fast and you were unused to physical activity. It was months since you’d left the cabin. Two, maybe. It was cold and your feet throbbed from the bite of the air.  You veered between the trees and your foot caught. You cried out as you plummeted into the leaves and rolled over as the rope clung to your ankle. You’d stepped right into a trap.

You loosened it, the knot meant for nothing more than a rabbit, but as you stood, you were knocked onto your ass. He stood above you and kicked you onto your back. He planted his foot on your chest and scowled down at you, his blues eyes bore into you angrily.

“Bad girl,” he pushed on your chest until you wheezed, “you’re going back to the basement.”

“No, no, no,” you slapped at him as he removed his foot and bent to lift you up, “please--”

“Shut up,” he growled as he dragged you back to the path, “it’ll be harder this time, don’t make it worse than you already have.”

⛓️now⛓️

You gasped as your eyes flicked open. The rumble of the engine reverberated and faded into the trees as the faded green truck pulled up before the low fences. The motor shut off and the man hopped out on the other side. You watched as he went to the bed and opened it, he pulled out and crate that he held under one arm and an odd leather suitcase in the other.

He saw you through the window and smiled. You batted your lashes and forced yourself to smile back. You went to the door and opened it for him. He kicked off his tan boots and strode inside as you waited patiently. He stepped over the chain and plopped his goods on the table.

“You miss me, honey pie?” he asked, “mmm, it smells good in here.”

“I did… dear,” you used the epithet that made him happy, that kept him placid, “I made steak pie.”

“Yum,” he unclasped the briefcase and paused as he looked at you, “I have a surprise for you.”

“You went to the city?”

“Why I left so early. Don’t you remember? I kissed you goodbye but you were sleepy so,” his thumbs rubbed the tarnished clasps.

“I remember,” you said, “I figured since you took the truck.”

“This is for you,” he said, “a surprise.”

“A surprise?” you blinked and watched his hands.

He opened the lid of the briefcase and revealed the interior with a ‘ta da’. You looked over the record player, the knobs worn and the upholster of the lid frayed. “It’s used, but it works.”

He reached over and slid the crate closer, “I grabbed whatever they had that wasn’t gospel.”

You didn’t move to look at the records or to admire the Victrola. You were too stunned. Not that he brought you a surprise, he always brought you small things, new dresses or a little figurine. Stuff you didn’t like but pretended to for his sake, but more so your own.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

It was so long since you’d heard music. You knew that it was close to a year now. The days grew shorter, the air cooler, and the garden was at the end of its bloom. It was a lovely present from your keeper, the keeper you could never love.

“Thank you,” you whispered but still didn’t touch any of it. You cleared your throat, “thank you, Steve.”

“You okay?” he touched your shoulder. You learned not to flinch, that made him angry.

“You didn’t have to… do that,” you said.

“You’ve been good, you earned it,” he rubbed your arm, “there’s more in the truck. Why don’t you get it set up while I unload?”

“Yes, dear,” you nodded.

He bent and kissed your cheek, then caught your chin and laid a deeper kiss on your lips. You felt the shudder, the hunger, he wanted you that night, like most nights.

He went back outside and you hauled the record player to the table beside the fireplace. You plugged it in and went back to get the records. You sorted through until you found a familiar name. You took out the vinyl and checked for scratches before you laid it on the deck. You dropped the needle and it crackled before the melody began.

‘Oh my baby's comin home tomorrow

Ain't that good news

Man, ain't that news

Baby's coming home tomorrow

Ain't that news

Man, ain't that news’

⛓️then⛓️

The hammering stopped and Steve stood up. You watched him through the window as he replaced the tool in the metal box and closed it up. He tossed it back in the truck bed and came back through the open door of the cabin. It was spring, the long winter was over, a winter mostly spent below, and he wanted to clean up the garden.

He went to the hoop drilled into the floor and unlocked the chain from it. He tugged on it and led you outside like a dog on a leash and looped it through the one he’d just set into the concrete base. He yanked and tested its sturdiness then dropped the links. He dusted off his hands and looked around.

“Now you can come out and help,” he declared, “you should be able to reach everything you need. And I’m almost done the swing. We’ll be able to sit out here in the evenings.”

“Thank you, dear,” you recited the words, a habit you were almost compulsive about.

“Your welcome, honey pie,” he neared and kissed your forehead, “you understand right? Now that you’re back up here, you have to be good.”

“Yes, dear,” you swallowed your despair and smiled stiffly.

“We’re starting over,” he touched your cheek, “I forgive you.”

“Thank you…. dear,” you brushed your hand against his and he tilted his head. His other went to the sleeve of your dress and traced over your collarbone. He picked at the lace trim along the chest. His eyes darkened and he bit his lip.

⛓️now⛓️

You unclipped the cotton from the line and watched the leaves sway along the tree line. You shook the memory from your head. That night, the first night he’d… It happened so many times since, what did it matter?

You dropped the laundry into the wicker and lifted the basket. You went back to the door and stopped. He’d changed the record and the music kept the stifling silence from suffocating you. You stood in the doorway and watched his shoulders as he read.

“Dear,” you said carefully, “I’m ready to come inside.”

He put the book face down on the arm and stood. He crossed to you and you stepped just inside to let him past. He dragged his hand across your stomach as he sidled through the door. He disappeared for a moment and returned with the chain in hand. He secured it in its hook by the bed and you closed the door.

“Once I fold this, dinner should be ready,” you said.

“Alright,” he replied but sounded glum, “you work so hard, honey pie.”

“Yes, dear,” you set the basket on the bed and pulled out one of his shirts.

He was quiet as he sat. You felt him watching you. You stacked the shirts and went to grab hangers for your dresses. With the chain, all you could wear were dresses. Besides, there was no point in trying to be modest.

“You like the player?” he asked.

“Very much, dear,” you said, “it is a nice surprise.”

“Well, really, it’s an anniversary gift…” he remarked.

“Anniversary?” you trembled, only slightly as you pulled the dress over the hanger.

“It’s been one year. Can you believe that?”

“One year?” you repeated, “that’s… amazing.”

“Yeah, I mean, I can hardly remember what it was like before you. Feels like it’s been longer than that.”

“Happy anniversary, dear,” you said numbly and hung the last dress. You put away his clothes in the chest and put the basket back in the corner.

As you turned, you were startled to see him at the foot of the bed. He stared at the pattern of the quilt, his hands on his hips. He never had to say what he wanted, if you made him, it would be worse. You blanched and quickly scurried over. You shook as you climbed onto the mattress and pulled up your skirt.

“Dear?” you quivered as you lifted your dress up your chest. He leaned a knee on the bed and stopped you.

“No, later,” he said as he pushed the fabric back down, “and I want you to keep this on tonight.”

“Okay,” you sat back on your heels as his hands rested on your sides. His eyes lingered on your stomach. He looked sad.

“Dinner should be ready, right?” he drew away, “it smells ready.”

⛓️then⛓️

“I was out all day hunting and I come back to this!” Steve huffed, “you haven’t even started dinner.”

“I lost track of time, dear, I’m sorry--”

“You will be,” he snarled as he crossed his arms, “take off your dress and turn around.”

“Please--”

“Quiet,” he barked and his jaw ticked.

You sniffed and took the dress off. You dropped it over the edge of the couch and neared him. You turned around and he sighed darkly. He grabbed your shoulders and directed you over to the table. He pushed until you were bent over it.

“Stay,” he snarled, “I didn’t want it to come to this but you need to learn.”

You closed your eyes and braced the wood as you readied for another spanking. Your breath caught hover as you heard the subtle tinkle of metal. The leather rested against your ass and Steve tutted.

“I love you, honey pie,” he said, “that’s why I have to do this.”

The first strike was like fire, it burned your skin. The second was worse and you cried out. Your body wracked with sobs as he continued and by the dozenth or so, it hurt even when he wasn’t hitting you.

“I’ll do better,” you whimpered, “please, I’ll do better.”

⛓️now⛓️

You took Steve’s empty plate and your own and rinsed them off. You took the sponge and cleaned them completely and left them in the rack. You heard him behind you and you dried your hands before turning back to him. He stood with his back to you, he was looking at something.

You went to him and he looked at you as you came around the couch. He smiled, almost embarrassed, it was too late to hide what he was holding. He chuckled and held up the sleepers; one in pink and one in blue. “I got one of each… in case…”

You stood speechless. You knew it was a possibility, almost a certainty, but you tracked your periods almost religiously. So far, you’d been lucky. The idea of being out here with a child on top of everything else was more frightening than anything he’d done.

You spun away and covered your face. You began to cry. You couldn’t help it. It was a promise, a promise that you would never get away.

“What’s wrong, honey pie? I thought you’d like them--”

You shook your head but couldn’t stop. You walked away from him, the chain dragging loudly and you fell helplessly to your knees. Fuck him! Fuck him! You bent and beat on the wooden floor as you sobbed.

“Stop this,” his voice turned firm, “you’re being ridiculous.”

“No, no, no, no, no,” you muttered, “please, I can’t-- I can’t--”

“Don’t be a bad girl,” he warned as he came close, “now it’s our anniversary. Let’s celebrate.”

“I don’t want to,” you uttered, “I never wanted--”

He grabbed you around the waist and wrenched you up. He forced you over to the bed and pushed you onto it. He growled as you turned onto your back and gaped up at him.

“You know what happens to bad girls,” he sneered, “so you have one minute to suck it up and be good.”

You rubbed your eyes and wiped away the wetness from your cheeks. He took off his tee and flung it into the basket, then his jeans, socks, and underwear. His muscles bulged through his skin and his arousal bobbed before him as he came up to the foot off the bed. You got to your knees and gripped your skirts in your sweaty hands.

“How do you want me?” you said crisply as your throat squeezed. The lump stayed lodged firmly there as a nail was set deep in your skull.

“Mouth, first, honey pie, you know I like a warm up,” he stroked his dick and wiggled it.

You crawled to the end of the bed and replaced his hand with yours. Your breath glossed over his tip and you opened your mouth around him. He groaned and gripped his hips as he tilted his pelvis forward. You sank down until he was at your throat and you moved your hand in time with your mouth, easing the intrusion of his length.

“Mmm, that’s it, honey pie,” he purred as his hands went to your shoulders.

Your spit spread down his dick and slicked the motion of your hand. You gulped and gagged as he pushed on your shoulders and you sped up. You bobbed your head steadily. It was a habit, a pattern, you did it all so mechanically. It was easier if you looked at it like just another chore.

He grasped your shoulders and urged you away from him. Saliva dripped from your mouth and down your chin. You wiped your face with the back of your hand and reached to your dress. Finish him quickly and you might be done… maybe, or it would be another endless night.

“No, I said keep it on,” he spun his finger in the air, “let me see your ass.”

You turned around and gathered up the skirt of your dress. You bent over on your elbows as your legs stuck out off the edge of the bed. He kneaded the flesh and hummed as he pulled your cheeks apart. He pushed his dick between them and slid it up and down.

He reached under you and rubbed your clit. His other hand glided up your back and held your shoulder. You were wet, you couldn’t help that even if you hated it. He pushed two fingers inside without warning, then a third. Even after all this time, you were never used to the stretching, even just his fingers.

“Mmm, honey pie, you are so wet,” he stepped back and bent to push his face between your legs. You arched as his lip flicked along your folds and his fingers slipped out to follow it, “you taste so good.”

He stood straight again and licked his fingers clean noisily. He shoved them back into you roughly. He pulled in and out and added his pink. You whined as he got deeper and deeper. He’d never used more than three at a time.

“You think you can take all of it?” he asked.

“Wha--” you voice cracked as he folded his thumb against his palm and poked at your entrance, your juices spreading over his hand as he fucked you, “Ste--”

You gasped as he got his whole hand inside. He seemed surprised too and he bent over you as he forced himself in to his wrist. Your cunt sucked at him hungrily and the noises filled the desolate cabin.

“Good girl,” he slithered as you squeezed around him and his other hand searched for your clit, “look at that, huh?”

He sped up and your arms collapsed. Your head was on the bed as he kept your ass up and played with your bud as he kept his other hand moving inside of you. You whined and moan as the fullness sparked your core and your thighs began to quake. You puffed wildly and grasped the quilt as your orgasm hit and gushed down his arm.

“Oh, honey pie,” he slipped out of you slowly and pulled his other hand away, “what a start.”

He grabbed your skirt with his wet hand and bunched it as he stepped up behind you. He pressed his tip to your entrance and glided in easily. Your walls gripped him even tighter than before, still pulsing from your climax. He reached his limit and grunted.

“Such a good girl,” he purred as he moved his hips slowly, a smooth rock as his free hand stretched over your ass.

You murmured and mewled as he tilted into you. His motion built steadily until his skin clapped against yours. He twisted your dress until it was tight around your middle and he stopped to push you forward on the bed. You dragged yourself up as he climbed onto his knees behind you. 

He picked up his former pace and the bed shook beneath you. He lifted one leg over yours and then the other and pushed them together. He stayed inside of your and leaned on you until you were slat on your stomach. He straddled you as he pushed his shoulders up and gripped the straps of your dress. He rutted into you without restraint as the pressure around him was even more unbearable.

Your cunt quivered around him again and your head lolled back and forth. His hips snapped up against your ass as his thick breaths added to the heat all around you. He snaked a hand beneath you to grope your tit and his other gripped your head. He jerked into you sharply and you cried out, his next thrust sporadic but just as deep.

He spilled into you and your cunt milked him eagerly. You went limp as you spasmed and let the waves swell and crash around you. When he stilled, he stayed inside of you and ran his hands up and down your back.

Once you caught your breath, he began to move again. You were sore and battered. Even if he fucked you every night, it was always too much, and the ache never really left. You moaned and he spread his body over yours, cocooning you in his warmth as he kept his hips rocking.

“Good girl,” he gritted, “good girl,” he pet your head as he kissed your cheek and kept fucking you, “so good for me, honey pie.”

The same day over and over. The same words every night. Again and again and again and again.

[moononastring]

gigi this is so silly but there may have been a small development with Work Boy today. so i ripped my pants at work today... it was a long time coming, since jeans tend to get weak in the thighs, y'know? i also don't have much of a "that's a weird thing, don't do that" filter. so while i was kinda venting about my day, i punctuated it with "... and to make things worse, my pants ripped!! " and for some reason, i showed him the rip?? on my inner thigh???? 🙈🙈i can't with myself sometimes.

anyway, we were talking about it a bit later (i felt the need to apologize for the HR violation lol) and he was like, "did i turn as red as i felt like i was?" and i said, "i dunno. you turned away too fast for me to tell. you looked like a gentleman who just saw a victorian lady's ankle." and he goes "honestly, that's kinda how it felt." ….gigi i've never seen a man get so flustered over a thumb-sized hole in a pantleg but here we are. i feel as powerful as i do mortified lmao. so i guess Work Boy is a thigh guy 👀(a man of taste).

ALSO i was supposed to reach out to the managing editor about the job today, and she didn't respond to my email 😩😩. .... i'm experiencing a lot of blueballing in my life rn. (me and eris should start a club 🤪)

how did that interview go?? i’ve been keeping my fingers crossed for you! you deserve to do something you’re excited about (: thank you for letting me use your ask box as my little diary. in case you haven’t noticed, i have a lot of fun with it 🥰

- ☀️

IT IS NOT SILLY OMG. I love those little updates 😭 because omg he sounds like such a cutie wtf!!! I literally just giggled imagine it though. He sounds like a man of taste but you are a woman of taste as well for crushing on this gentleman 😏😏😏 but also I'm sorry your pants ripped at work of all places 💀💀💀 my thunder thighs also be doing damage to pants and I never thought it would happen but it has happened...more than once 💀 thankfully at home though so not as bad lmaooo.

BUT AYYYYYY. Development. This is nice. Flirt with him more. Flash some collarbone, the boys love some collarbone action 🤣

As for the hiring manager...DID SHE REPLY TODAY? KEEP ME POSTED I WANT TO KNOWWWWWW. Sometimes it's a hectic day so that's okay. Fingers crossed for you bby!!! 🤞🏼🤞🏼

And I did! It went really well but unfortunately, the pay was too long and they didn't budge on it so I declined. Can't have yo girl going backward but honestly, idk what else I plan to do. There's another position up for grabs and I'm debating on doing an interview or not but I want more information. I kinda want something quiet on the administrative side of things so we'll see! I'm considering pivoting from education to HR but am unsure if it'll be the right fit! We'll see what happens haha!

thank you for sharing with me darling!!! I love hearing your news!! keep me posted!!

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Evan’s 6✩ Inspiration: Twilight Facet [暮光之境] Date Translation (Prologue)

“I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but I suddenly felt like he exuded loneliness unlike any other.”

*Light and Night Master-list | Evan’s Personal Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *6✩ Inspirations have 6 Endings!! *Evan’s tag will be #For Night, For Revolution

It was the dead of winter.

The car was driving out in the suburbs. Beyond the windows of the car was a never-ending flurry of snow that seemingly piled up in white heaps all around.

MC: Achoo!

My top half was utterly drenched. Shuddering, I drew the thick overcoat closer to my frame.

Evan: Do you need me to turn the heater up?

MC: No need. Your coat's plenty warm enough… Achoo!

Evan inclined his head, glancing at me in concern before speeding up.

Evan: Just bear with it for a little while. We're almost there.

MC: Okay…

I sniffled with care, feeling the heating within the car work its magic as the warmth rushed at my face. Finally, I felt some semblance of warmth.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

About what was probably 2 hours ago, Evan and I had taken his car to the neighbouring City to visit a large-scale Contemporary Art Exhibition.

However, we’d crossed paths with a sound-activated waterwork not long after entering the venue… Safe to say, I ended up being drenched to the bone, much to my surprise...

And that was how our much-anticipated trip to the Exhibition came to an abrupt close…

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Evan skillfully manoeuvred around a corner and a Victorian-style building appeared before my very eyes.

MC: Huh? Didn't you say that you were going to bring me somewhere where I could fix myself back up for the time being?

He chuckled lightly, slowing his car in front of the gates.

Evan: It's too late to be heading back to Guangqi City now. It was more convenient to come here.

Evan: Don't worry. This is my home.

Evan helped me gather up his overcoat, which had become slightly slippery from the water. He then helped me up the steps to the Villa with his arm around me.

The huge door swung open, and a middle-aged man and woman came up to greet us. They were both dressed in matching uniforms and carried an air of poise and elegance around them.

Surprise coloured their faces upon seeing Evan standing there. They moved to give him each a deep bow and curtsy, respectively.

Middle-Aged Man & Woman: Welcome back, Sir!

Evan smiled and gently took the lead.

Evan: (Y/n), meet Uncle Chen and Aunt Wang.

MC: Hello, it's nice to meet you!

They both glanced at us before quickly exchanging a knowing look at each other. The joy on their faces seemed to brighten a tad.

Middle-Aged Man & Woman: Hello, Miss (Y/n)!

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Only when we'd entered the warm confines of the Villa, did he willingly let me out of his grasp

Evan: How about you go get yourself changed first and come find me after?

MC: Okay!

Evan: I'll be leaving her to you then, Aunt Wang.

Aunt Wang: Understood, Sir. Please follow me, Miss.

I followed Aunt Wang down the hall. She slowed her pace until she was side-by-side with me. She occasionally snuck a couple of glances over at me, the amusement reflected in her eyes only growing ever more potent.

Aunt Wang: He doesn’t come here often enough. I and Old Chen here have not seen him for a very long time now…

MC: But Evan said that this was his home. So why hasn’t he been back in that long?

MC: Oh! Is it because this place’s too far from Guangqi City? He’s always so busy, so he probably doesn’t have enough time to drop in often…

Aunt Wang: You really do know him well.

MC: …...

Aunt Wang: This is actually where he grew up. That being said, he only lived here for a short period when he was still very little.

MC: I see. So this was where he lived as a kid?

Aunt Wang: Yes. But, he was the only one here back then, so he's much better off now.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

She laughed as she said that, pushing open a door and leading me straight into a room.

She took a set of neatly folded clothes that had been set onto a tray from the tabletop, respectfully offering it to me.

Aunt Wang: Miss (Y/n), I'll be taking your clothes for a quick dry cleaning.

Aunt Wang: We don't have any new sets of clothes here other than the uniform, so I do hope you don't mind...

MC: Of course not! Thanks.

With Aunt Wang's aid, I soon managed to change into a set of clean and warm clothes. However…

The black satin dress snugly fitted my figure. It narrowed at the waist and stopped at the ankles. Embellished with a white apron, it came with a hint of unspoken warmth and playfulness.

Aunt Wang: Your figure is splendid, as do the way you carry yourself, Miss. Even when dressed in clothes like this, people can tell that you're special just by a glance.

MC: You're flattering me…

Aunt Wang: He has instructed that you are free to enter and leave the Villa at will. You can do as you please here.

Aunt Wang: I'll send your clothes up to you once they're done dry-cleaning.

MC: Sure, see you!

I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding after Aunt Wang left. I stretched and moved my body, which had been tense ever since I entered the Villa, around.

Suddenly, I caught sight of something else on the tray where the uniform had initially been from the corner of my eye.

MC: Glasses?

I took the glasses, slightly suspicious about their whereabouts. I suddenly recalled seeing Aunt Wang and Uncle Chen wearing identical pairs… Is this also one of the rules set in place here?

Seeing how I was dressed similarly, I paused to contemplate the glasses for a few seconds before carefully slipping them on.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

After that, I left the room. I had only just stepped out of the door when I bumped into Uncle Chen, who was carrying an exquisite tea set and seemed to be in a hurry.

Uncle Chen: Miss (Y/n).

MC: Hello!

He nodded at me and made his way past me. However, he soon swivelled around and stared at me in slight surprise.

Uncle Chen: You've tidied yourself up?

MC: Yep, yep!

Uncle Chen: Brilliant!

Uncle Chen: Pardon me, Miss (Y/n). I have a favour I'd like to ask you. May I?

MC: What is it?

Uncle Chen: You see, I'm just about to send his drink up to him, but the fireplace just so happens to require new coal to keep the fire going...

Uncle Chen: Aunt Wang said that she'd get onto it as soon as she finishes up on her end, but she has never done it before, so…

Uncle Chen: Changing out the coal is a rather complicated task, so I'm a little worried...

MC: I'll just take the drink to Evan for you. I'm going to look for him anyway.

Uncle Chen: Thank you! His room is the one at the end of the hall.

MC: It's nothing much, don't worry about it.

I took the tray over from him and walked towards Evan’s room.

Stopping in front of his door, I freed a hand and knocked on the door.

Evan: Enter.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

I gently turned the knob and headed inside. A faint fragrance greeted me, washing over my face.

It was a very wide room, but it wasn’t decorated in an equally luxurious manner at all. It was sparsely furnished and was chic and elegant.

Evan currently had his back to me, reclining on the sofa as he flipped through a book. The soft light fell upon him, making him look as gentle and elegant as ever.

I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but I suddenly felt like he exuded loneliness unlike any other.

Am I just imagining it?

I blinked, shaking my head to clear my head of the strange thoughts. Taking a deep breath, I slowly approached him, placing the delicate, yet exquisite-looking tea set from the tray onto the coffee table.

Evan: Same as always. Not too thick.

Saying so, he flipped to another page. His gaze was still trained to the book.

Hmm? Does he think I’m Uncle Chen? Seeing how serious he was, I suddenly thought of pranking him.

I carefully poured a small portion of the thick drink from the teapot into the cup, added some hot water, and stirred. I served him the drink once it was thoroughly stirred.

MC: ...Please enjoy your drink, Sir.

Evan’s hand froze midway through turning the page. He slowly raised his head, his eyes filled with sheer disbelief.

Evan: You…

I winked playfully at him.

MC: Sir, it’ll turn cold if you don’t drink it while it’s still hot.

The amusement in his eyes became more pronounced as he took a sip from his cup, shooting me another glance.

Evan: Why are you here for this?

MC: I met Uncle Chen along the way. He was rather antsy about wanting to deal with other matters, so I decided to drop in with the stuff he was going to bring in.

Evan: So that's how it is.

He nodded, chuckling softly when his gaze fell to my clothes.

Evan: Why are you dressed like that?

MC: All my clothes were sent to be dry-cleaned. Aunt Wang said that we’d dropped in on too much of a short notice that there wasn’t time for them to prepare any suitable clothes.

MC: Still… It's my first time wearing something like this. Do I look weird?

He smiled, stretching out a hand to adjust my askew glasses.

Evan: Not at all. You're very adorable dressed like that.

I momentarily stiffened as he did his thing before smiling back at him and deliberately moving my face closer in front of him.

MC: Glad that I didn’t scare you half to death, Sir.

Evan: And why are you still calling me that?

MC: Well… Isn’t it fitting, considering how I’m dressed now? Plus, Aunt Wang and Uncle Chen address you like this too.

MC: Speaking of, is this thing a rule or something here?

Evan: …There used to be many rules set in place here, but it's much laxer now.

MC: I see… Then, what about aromatherapy? Is that also a rule? Or is it something done on a whim?

I wrinkled my nose and sniffed the air, suddenly a little curious about the lingering fragrance.

MC: What a peculiar scent; and only in your room. Is this one of the rules and regulations here?

Evan smiled, shaking his head.

Evan: Uncle Chen was the one who lit it. He probably thought that I’d take an afternoon nap, so he made all the preparations for it.

An afternoon nap? I glanced at the clock and saw that it was the perfect time for a lunchtime nap.

I…

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

✥ Choose your Ending:

END 1 | Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]  

END 2 + 3 | Choice: Approach [亲近] ⊹Touch⊹

END 4 | Choice: Listen [倾听] ❖ASMR

END 5 + 6 | Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ✩Light & Night★

❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Revolution⊹ —————★❖

[victoria-daydreams]

The Long Way Home

Chapter Four: Recruiting for a Jailbreak

AN: Here it is folks! You finally get a taste of what Claudia been up to over the years.

Trigger Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.8k

Taglist: @iloveeverything-09, @eiferundruhe​, @greatscott--wrongdecade​

Chapter Five: A Summer Place

She was laying on their shared bed with nothing on but one of Charles' shirt, her legs tucked slightly to let the natural curves of them lead up to her thighs and to more scenic places, reading a book. Charles was reading a novel of his own, leaning against the headboard of the bed, but he found it hard to concentrate on the text in front of him when there was a beautiful woman laying opposite of him.

Claudia caught Charles' eyes on her, and broke out into a grin that almost made him reach across the bed and drag her mouth to his, kissing away that smile and make it his own forever.

"Why are you staring at me like that Charles?" Claudia asked, a soft grin pulling at her lips.

"Because you're breathtaking love," he breathed, giving a lopsided smile.

Claudia rolled her eyes, feeling her face flush with heat, "I'm only in one your button ups Charles," she replied, slightly laughing.

"Hmm, and you wear it so well darling," Charles purred, running a finger up and down her ankle.

Snapping her book shut, not caring where she left off, Claudia righted herself and crawled over to Charles where he gathered her in his arms and held her to his body. She burrowed herself into Charles and he nuzzled his nose into her hair, inhaling deeply.

"Sometimes I think to myself of how lucky I am to have met you," Charles murmured, against Claudia's ear. "To be with you," he added, using the back of his finger to caress her cheek.

Claudia lifted her head slightly from his shoulder, "I love you Charles," she breathed, bumping her nose with his.

"And I love you," Charles smiled, his words ghosting over her lips.

Their noses bumping into each other until Charles lowered Claudia back onto the bed, capturing her lips in a fiery kiss.

~~~x~~~

"Hank, I still can't believe you kept Claudia's address a secret for all these years!" Charles fumed, glaring at Hank and then out the backseat window.

"Do you honestly think she would even want to see you after everything you said to her?" Hank asked back, letting out a scoff.

The trees passed by as they drove down a side road in Richmond, Virginia. The car slowly came to a stop as they reached a local park. As all the men piled out of the rental car, they began to observe the serene environment. The trees bent softly with the wind, the wind carrying the laughter of children running around the playground, being princesses and mighty warriors in their own worlds. Erik gazed across the street, seeing only children and their parents, and became confused.

Charles' brows also furrowed, "Are you sure this is the right neighborhood?" he questioned, doing a slow 360 turn as his eyes swept their surroundings. The neighborhood had elegant, Victorian-style homes lined on each side of the street in various colors, manicured lawns and ample yard space. "This seems too...suburban for someone like Claudia," Charles stated.

"Claudia was always one for the city," Erik recalled, staring at a sign informing residents that the neighborhood watch worked round the clock.

"This is the type of place where you would settle down and start a family..." Charles’ voice faded, at his own assessment.

Hank unfolded a piece of wrinkled, almost yellowing paper, "She gave me this address in 1967, I called the number she wrote down, but no one answered. There's no telling if she still lives there or not," he said, smoothing the paper out. "This way," Hank announced, walking down the sidewalk and everyone followed him.

Several times, they had to stop before they collided with humans half their size, smiling kindly as the children took off giggling.

"So you and Claudia split up then," Erik began, just loud enough for only Charles to hear as Peter, Hank, and Logan walked ahead.

"Obviously," Charles bit back, not wanting to talk about it.

Erik shook his head, "Never thought I'd see that happen, she thought the world of you," he started, but was interrupted by shrieks of laughter as they passed a yellow two story home, the sprinklers were on and three children under the age of eight, raced through the water in swimsuits. "Such a shame isn't it, you had a woman like Claudia and you let her go," Erik mentioned casually, letting out a tsk before quickening his pace to catch up with the group.

Erik's statement pierced Charles like a twisting knife through the heart. A frown lined his forehead as he let out a deep breath, he had no idea what he was going to say once he saw her.

"Here we are," Hank notified, stopping in front of a house. "1342 West Main Street," he read, looking down at the piece of paper and glancing up at the front door.

The house was beautiful, a three story updated cream colored Victorian mansion, leading to the garage to the road is a brick driveway. The front of the mansion had a tan painted wooden porch with five sturdy and wide steps. The porch cover had white shingles and a comfortable beige two person porch swing hanging from the ceiling. It was spacious enough for one or more people to stand on the wide front porch with ease to overlook the large front yard with tall oaks that displayed their rich, green foliage and beautiful shrubs carefully trimmed.

"Is your friend rich?" Peter asked, staring in awe at the house.

Erik slid his hands into his pockets, "If she wills it so." He quipped, hinting at her power.

"Sounds strangely ominous," Logan commented, glancing Erik then back at the house.

"There's a car in the driveway, so someone's home," Erik observed, before walking up the porch steps. "Come on, let's go, no need to prolong this any longer than we have to," he stated, climbing the stairs.

Everyone walked up the stairs without hesitation, but Charles remained at the bottom of the porch still looking up at the mansion. His stomach was twisting itself into knots, he couldn't shake the feeling of restless nervousness that's been building up within him since D.C. The thought of walking up the grand staircase leading to the door frightened him, what if she didn't want to see him?

Claudia was never one to forgive easy.

"Did I tell you why Claudia has to be involved?" Charles questioned, trying to find some excuse not to face his ex-fiancée.

"No, you didn't mention," Logan answered. "But you have to do this. You insisted, like I said," he reminded.

"Why? She dies, but so will I someday. We all will," Charles pointed out lamely.

"Her dying should be reason enough Charles," Erik stated, narrowing his eyes at him.

Charles threw his hands up in a gesture of surrender, "You're right, you're right," The telepath conceded, making his way up the steps giving himself a constant pep talk as he went.

Hank raised one of his thin fingers and pressed the doorbell, the ringing of the bell echoed through the house, but no one came to greet them. Hank waited another thirty seconds before he pressed the doorbell a second time, still there wasn't a sign of movement from within the home.

"Maybe she's not home," Hank suggested, cupping his hands to peer through the front door window, but the glass was frosted.

"Or she's ignoring us," Charles reckoned.

"I'm one to never turn down the opportunity to use my powers." Peter offered, getting ready to take off until Erik clasped his hand on his shoulder.

"Not if you value your life," Erik cautioned, letting him go. "Claudia, is the last person to be trifled with," he added.

Logan raised his eyebrow at this, "Who was this woman?" he thought.

Suddenly, Logan's ear perked up at the sound of music playing faintly.

"Do any of you hear that?" Logan asked, craning his neck as he moved away from the front door.

"Hear what?" Charles asked.

"There's music being played," Logan responded, walking down the porch steps. "It's coming from the backyard," he continued, making his way to the gate.

They followed behind the man and as they got closer to the gate the sound of orchestral music could be heard wafting from the backyard. Logan unlatched the back gate, walking across the plush green lawn now being able to fully hear the crooning of Andy Williams singing A Summer Place.

There's a summer place Where it may rain or storm

Moving further into the backyard Logan was stunned by its opulence. There was a stone patio attached to the home designed with veranda arches, an in ground pool was centered in the middle of grand, park-like backyard. The pool was surrounded by tan stone tiles which extended from the deck against the house. To the left side of the deck was a grill and a round white table with a white umbrella and a couple of garden chairs and on the right had an in-ground Jacuzzi. If anyone stood on the deck and looked up they would notice a balcony.

For within that summer place Your arms reach out to me

Logan's gaze halted as he spotted a figure of a woman in a pool chair underneath an umbrella, lounging with one leg outstretched and the other pulled in immersed in her reading. The woman was not far off from the backyard gate, but she didn't move, seemingly unaware that there were guests with her. The record player was playing right next to her, the music must have masked the noise of the gate opening as she kept absently swaying her foot back and forth to the song.

There are no gloomy skies When seen through the eyes

"Well, if that's her, she's certainly living lavishly," Erik observed, simply amazed at the wealth of the homeowner.

Charles' eyes swept around the backyard in shock. He was speechless as a matter of fact. If the woman under the umbrella was Claudia, Charles had to wonder who was the rich man that swept her off her feet and married her. As the men approached the woman they suddenly felt their legs lock up, except for Hank's. Logan, Erik, Charles, and Peter all looked down to see violet wisps surrounding their lower limbs.

"What the hell?" Logan muttered, as Erik and Charles both glanced at each other.

"Now Hank," a familiar female voice called out over the music. "When I invited you to stop by my house whenever you please, that invitation wasn't extended to a stranger, a wanted criminal, a drug abuser, and a..." the woman paused, and loudly sniffed the air twice. "A dog," she finished, never turning to face them.

"I wouldn't have brought them along if this wasn't important," Hank explained, taking a step closer.

"We need your help Claudia,"

Chapter Six: Hell Hath No Fury

[smile-hotch]

Red Dress - Aaron Hotchner

Hello and welcome to another Aaron work!  This is the first one I’ve done in a while, so enjoy!

Warnings: mentions of domestic abuse (ties to the victims)

word count: 1,844

Penelope Garcia, in a rush as always, walked into the conference room with an armful of files.  Her eyes danced along the table and a frown formed on her lips.  “Hello, my fine friends,” she greeted as she began to pass out files to each person.  As she came around to Aaron Hotchner, she paused.  “Sir, I can’t get (Y/N) on the phone.”

For a split second, Aaron’s eyes darted around the table.  “Debrief us and then Morgan and I will go to her house for a welfare check.”  His voice was cool but urgent as he looked back down at the file.  

Nodding quickly, Penelope put her back to the large screen in the room and held the remote up on her hand.  “Unfortunately, our little friend who kidnaps political figures is back,” she began and flashed the image of a dead woman in a police uniform.  “This is officer Sheryl Garrett.  She was reported missing a week ago today after not showing up for work and was found dead two hours ago in an alley two blocks from her house.  As you can see,” Penelope changed the picture, “there are lacerations on her neck and wrists, like the last two victims.”

“All of who were political figures?”  Derek Morgan asked as he set the pictures down.  

Penelope nodded vigorously.  “The first victim was Megan Shelly, as you may remember.”  She showed her pictures on the screen.  She was the founder of a non-profit organization serving victims of domestic abuse in the city.”

Jennifer Jareau pressed her lips together briefly.  “And she was taken two months ago?”

“Exactly two months ago from the time Sheryl Garrett was abducted.”  Aaron’s dark eyes didn’t bother looking up from the file.  

Spencer looked up.  “Perhaps our unsub has a particular disdain for those assisting victims of domestic abuse.” 

Penelope pointed to Spencer.  “Let me finish my speech before you get to the point.  The second victim was city councilwoman Sharon Rubel, who’s campaign focused greatly on punishing those convicted of domestic abuse and protecting the victims.  She was taken from her home exactly a month ago from the date of Officer Garrett’s abduction.  And Officer Garrett worked in the domestic abuse division of her precinct.”

David Ross hummed.  “And he is obviously spiraling.  His timeline is shortening, his cuts are becoming sloppier.  If we don’t catch him soon, there could be at a lot less domestic abuse activists in this city.”  His fingers flipped through the pages.

Penelope held up her hand, silencing her friends once more.  “The unsub also left a note for the first time in Officer Garrett’s house, as you can see here.”  She put the picture on the television.

It is only going to get bigger.

“Bigger?”  Derek scoffed.  “Does that mean he is going to go after a congresswoman, maybe?”

JJ, her face paling slightly, looked up at the rest of his team.  “I hate to even speculate this, but wasn’t (Y/N) an attorney that only worked with domestic abuse victims?”

Abruptly, Aaron stood and closed his file.  “JJ and Rossi, go to the precinct and see if there have been any disgruntled offenders.  Reid, you and Prentiss need to go to the dumpsite.  Penelope, keep calling (Y/N) and pull the cases she worked on in .  Look to see if any of the offenders were released from jail shortly before the first murder, and cross reference the last victim’s cases with (Y/N)’s.  Morgan, you’re with me.”  With that, the team dispersed.  Aaron marched off towards his office with Derek on his heels.  

“Should I get (Y/N)’s address from Garcia?”  Derek questioned as he followed Aaron into his office, where he took the gun from his desk and holstered it on his ankle.  

He grabbed the car keys for one of the bureau's cars off his desk and walked by Derek.  “You don’t need to.”

The ride to your house was achingly stiff.  Derek tried to talk possible motives with Aaron regarding the case at hand, but all conversation was quick and stern.  “With all due respect, sir, what’s going on with you?”  Derek asked as they pulled up outside your house.

Aaron leaped from the car without answering Derek and began towards the door without waiting.  Shaking his head, Derek rushed to catch up with Aaron.  Without hesitating, Aaron reached for the front door handle, and it opened with ease.  “Not locked?”  Derek asked as Aaron glanced in the house.

He shook his head.  “That’s not like her,” he muttered and pulled his gun from holster before pushing the door open more with his foot.  Immediately, as they entered your living room, Aaron cursed loudly.  In black paint, across the painting you did of the farm you grew up on as a child, was “IT IS ONLY GETTING BIGGER” in messy, scrawled handwriting.  

“I’m calling backup,” Derek said as he pulled his phone from his pocket.  Aaron frantically searched the house for any sign of you, but there was none.  He came back down the stairs of your home, spotting Derek in the kitchen, looking closely at your back door, leading to your backyard.  “I think he was waiting for her last night, after work.”

Aaron’s face paled as he looked at the back door as well, where the scratch marks on the trim indicated someone breaking in.  “It had to be later that night,” Aaron finally said to Derek as he looked away.  

Crossing his arms, Derek narrowed his eyes.  “If there is something you know, you need to tell me.” 

Aaron felt a burst of anger in his head.  He wanted to throw, destroy something, anything.  “(Y/N) was with me last night.  He had to be waiting for her after I dropped her off shortly after ten o’clock last night.”  

Derek raised his eyebrows.  Normally, he would hound Aaron about this information, but he couldn’t.  Not when you weren’t there to face it as well.  “What was she wearing last night so I can have law enforcement put an APB out?”  

A slight blush formed on Aaron’s face at the thought of it.  “A sleeveless red silk dress and black heels.” 

Again, Derek raised his eyebrows.  “Damn.”  He walked away, putting the phone to his ear.  Aaron turned away, walking through the house as he, too, started calling people.  

As he wandered into the living room once more, he avoided looking at the ruined painting above the fireplace.  “Hotch?  Did you find (Y/N)?”  Rossi’s voice flooded through the phone immediately.

“He has her,” he answered stiffly as his eyes landed on one of his own ties laying across the back of one of your antique chairs.  He picked it up, running his thumb along it, and pressed his lips together.  “Have you found anything at the precinct?”  

Rossi fell silent for a moment.  “We’ll find her, Aaron.  You know we will.”  The silence that met his words made Rossi sigh.  “Truthfully, it seems almost all offenders are disgruntled on out latest victim’s end.  I’ve sent the particularly violent ones to Garcia to cross examine.”  

“Let me know if you find anything,” Aaron told him and hung up the phone without another word.  

Aaron felt guilty, for leaving her on her own the night before.  He knew that there was no way for him to predict that this would happen, but still felt at fault for it.  However, the guilt was nothing compared to the anger he felt for anyone daring to hurt you.  

~.~

It took two more days before JJ discovered a break in the case that led the team to the unsub.  You were gone for three whole days, and there was always the biting thought in the back of everyone’s mind that you were long passed alive and not even with them anymore, but they still had to find you, in whatever capacity that may be.  

The unsub failed to hear the team enter his home, as he was sleeping soundly on the couch, and Derek Morgan flipped him off to the ground incredibly hard and cuffed him as the others searched for you.  JJ and Spencer searched the large yard and shed behind the large, Victorian style home, while Emily, Aaron, and Rossi began to tear the house apart.  Local law enforcement took the man into custody and dragged from the home as he shouted and screamed about the unfairness in the judicial system and the rats that cared about the victims of domestic abuse. 

Aaron anger built up as he tore down the steps of the house, into the basement.  A door at the end of the room had a single lock on the outside of it, and without hesitating, Aaron kicked the flimsy door in.  

The lights in the room were an odd shade of red, and there you were, tied to a chair in the middle of the room.  “I’ve got her,” Aaron shouted up the house.

With your arms tied behind your back and legs tied together at the knees and ankles both, you were completely unable to move.  There was a gag in your mouth, tied around your head and stained with a mixture of blood and tears.  You still wore your red dress, which now had a tear up the side and blood along the top, but still looked beautiful to Aaron.  

With wide, pleading eyes, you whined into the cloth as Aaron quickly fell to his knees in front of you and began carefully cutting the rope around your knees and ankles.  “(Y/N), are you hurt?”  He asked as your legs were free, and he untied the cloth from around your head.

With a busted bottom lip and a thin cut across your cheek, you shook your head.  “Just a few bumps and cuts, is all.”  Your voice was gravelly and sounded dry.  “I could really use a drink.”

Aaron chuckled as he cut your hands free, and you rubbed your wrists immediately.  “You had me so worried,” he mumbled as he stood, holding a hand out to you. 

Your black heels felt taller than ever as you tried to stand.  Stumbling, Aaron caught you and quickly frowned.  “Ah, haven’t walked in a minute,” you explained and held onto his arm tightly.  As you straightened and stretched your legs, Aaron watched you closely.  “I wasn’t worried.”  Aaron furrowed his eyebrows.  “I knew you’d find me, Aaron.” 

Slowly, you stood on your toes, even in your heels, and kissed him so gently.  You ignored the pain of your busted lip as you grabbed his shoulders, steadying you further. 

Carefully, Aaron pulled you against him, deepening the kiss and wrapping his arms tightly around your waist.  After a moment, you both pulled away with red faces.  Law enforcement rushed down the stairs at that point, and you moved your hands to his arm once more.  “Take me home, please.  I can’t wait to get out of this dress.” 

Aaron, fighting the smirk on his lips, spoke quietly to her.  “I quite like you in it, actually.”