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clareguilty · 5 years ago

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Sharing a Stolen Name

Read it here on AO3! Arthur Morgan/Reader Rating: Explicit | No Warnings Word Count: ~5500 Thank you to @verai-marcel for looking over this for me <3

You stroll into Rhodes head high and eyes wary. You've never been this far south before, but you need to speak with Hosea, and his letter said Lemoyne was the place to find him.

Fear races down your spine as the door to the sheriff’s office bursts open. You've been here for less than five minutes, and you really can’t afford any trouble.

A greasy sonovabitch comes racing down the street towards you, chased by a few harried lawmen. Just as the fugitive gets closer, you swipe a kick at his ankles and he goes flying into the red dirt.

An outlaw for sure. Not that you’re any better. The man curses you and tries to scramble to his feet, but you knock him back to the dirt.

"Thank you for that, miss," the sheriff pants when he catches up, ordering for his deputies to round up the man. "And who might you be?"

"Callahan," you give him the first fake name you've got. This sheriff looks like a fool but you have no doubt he can read a wanted poster.

"Callahan? You got siblings?" The sheriff asks, a wave of recognition crossing his features.

"No, sir," you answer quickly.

"Huh. We got another Callahan back in the office right this moment. He's working with some fine gentlemen around here. Figured y'all might be kin."

Another Callahan? Might be no one. You had borrowed the name, and this Callahan may very well be authentic, but you can't keep from asking.

"Arthur?"

"Yeah, that's him."

"Arthur's here? In the sheriff's office?" Is he in trouble? It didn't sound like it. Why would Arthur be hanging around lawmen?

You follow the sheriff, fear and worry stirring in your chest. Every worst case scenario plays out all at once in your head.

The sheriff pushes open the door and you're surprised to see Arthur leaning back in a chair, lazily smoking a cigarette. Even stranger is the silver badge on his chest.

"Arthur!" You run to his side, unable to contain your relief. He’s safe. He’s… deputized?

"Well, would you look at that. Mr. and Missus Callahan," the sheriff teases.

Arthur hesitates a moment, surprise and confusion crossing his face. He hasn’t seen you in months, yet here you are, sharing his stolen name. You throw your arms around his neck, whispering to him. “Looks like we’re married this time, Mr. Callahan.”

He plays along, rubbing circles into your back and leaning into the embrace. “Darling,” he says loud enough for the other men to hear. “I’m glad you made it.”

“I missed you,” you place a hand on his cheek. You mean the words, and you hope Arthur can see that even through the act.

“How touching,” one of the other deputies drawls. “Didn’t know you was married,” he raises his eyebrows at Arthur.

“She’s been working in the city these past months,” Arthur lies easily. “I ain’t seen her since she left last winter.” His hand wraps around your middle, settling on your hips. “Now, gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to give my wife a proper welcome.” He begins to usher you to the door, and you flush bright red as the sheriff and the deputy whistle and howl their congratulations.

Arthur helps you onto his horse and slips into the saddle behind you, riding quickly out of town. You whistle for your own horse to follow behind you. A peal of laughter escapes you, ringing out across the meadows. “Thanks for being so quick back there, cowboy. Saved our skins.”

“You weren’t bad yourself, Mrs. Callahan.” He chuckles. “May need to find yourself a new name, though, unless you wanna stay tied to me?”

You roll your eyes. “Did you see that sheriff? He was eating the whole thing up. Everyone’s a sucker for love.”

“If I see them again, I just know I’m gonna hear more about my lovely little wife.”

You’re glad Arthur can’t see your face. You’re positively pink. Lovely. Arthur called you lovely. Even if he was just teasing.

This was your problem. When you had first joined the gang, you hadn’t been able to stop yourself from falling for Arthur. He’s kind, handsome, strong. You had tumbled head over heels before you had even realized, and by then it was too late. Arthur was in love with Mary. He was going to propose.

No matter what you did, your feelings hadn’t subsided, but you knew there was no use in torturing yourself. With Hosea’s blessing, you had gone off on your own, only returning to the gang every few weeks. It was easier that way. You could ignore your feelings and throw yourself into your work, whatever that may look like. But you knew you always had a home to go back to.

So you lived that way for years. Staying away from the gang longer and longer each time. It hurt, every time you returned and every time you left. Arthur was still your friend, but things had to be this way.

Yet now Arthur was calling you lovely. Arthur had held you. The danger had passed and you could only think about how you wished the embrace was real.

“What brings you around?” he asks.

“Needed to talk with Hosea. I was doing some honest work for a family near strawberry, but there’s a lot of money in that town, and I think he could work his magic on the rich folk.” The town attracted wealthy northerners like flies to honey. Hosea loved nothing more than stupid rich people who wouldn’t know what hit them.

“Honest work? What sort?”

“There was a widowed gentleman who needed help. He has two young kids and no one to care for them. He paid well, and the house was nice. I grew rather fond of the children. I may go back for a few months if he’ll take me. I could see myself having some kind of life there.”

Arthur makes an indignant sound. “You were some kind of nursemaid?”

“More of a governess,” you correct him quickly. “I’m smart. And I know my way around polite society. I’m more than just an outlaw or a farmhand.” Arthur’s comment had gotten under your skin. You were respected in that house. Mr. Rochester was kind, and he treated you as an equal.

“You are,” Arthur says. “But is that really what you want? To live in another man’s house and care for kids that ain’t even yours?”

“What choice do I have, Arthur?” you snap. “I don’t have a house of my own. I don’t have kids of my own. I was married today for all of ten minutes and the whole thing was a lie. People like us don’t get a happy ending. You said so yourself.”

He’s silent the rest of the ride to camp, and you’re thankful for it.

Your return is joyful, despite your argument with Arthur. Mary-Beth is enamoured with your life at Mr. Rochester’s home, and she keeps you up well into the night with questions.

“He paid for your clothes?” she asks, eyes wide.

“Anything I wanted,” you grin. “I just marked it in the catalogue and gave him my measurements.”

“And you had your own room?”

“And I could use the washroom whenever I wanted.”

“What about the children? Were they terrible?”

“Oh at first, yes.” You laugh and shake your head. “But they weren’t expecting me to fight them back. They were much more interested in their lessons when I promised them stories of the great van der Linde gang.”

Mary-Beth’s eyes go wide. “You didn’t?”

“I sure did. All about Arthur Callahan and company.”

Mary-Beth watches you carefully. You can tell she knows. You’ve never been able to get over your feelings for Arthur. No matter how long you spend away from the gang.

“What about the man of the house? Was he kind?” she asks.

“Oh very,” you nod. “He’s a gentle soul. He wants to do right by his children, but he knows he can’t care for them by himself. He misses his wife every day. He’s very interesting. Funny, charming. He didn't ask too many questions about where I came from although I’m sure he knew it was nothing but trouble.”

Mary-Beth thinks for a long moment. “Do you think he could fall in love with you?”

The question makes you start in your seat. “Why would he do a thing like that?”

“You’re living in his house. Caring for his children. It seems like the perfect ending.” She wears a wistful expression.

“I- I couldn’t, Mary-Beth. You know that.”

She nods. You love Arthur. As much as you wish you didn’t. There is no one else for you.

“Pardon the interruption-” Both of you jump and turn. Hosea has snuck up on you. “Dear, you know we care for you, but I worry about you. All this time and you still can’t let go of something that’s clearly hurting you. I think Miss Gaskill is right. You deserve a happy ending, one that doesn’t involve lawmen hot on your heels.”

You know where Hosea is going with this. The thought makes your heart twinge.

“You understand, don’t you? If you have a chance to make a life for yourself, one that is better than this, you should take it.”

“But Hosea-” you start.

“Don’t ‘but Hosea’ me,” he shakes his head. “It’s time for you to make the hard choice. You’ve lived far too long without doing anything, and it’s time to brace yourself for the pain.”

Tears well in your eyes. Mary-Beth takes your hand. You can tell she’s glaring at Hosea. “She’ll make her own choice in her own time.”

Hosea’s hand squeezes your shoulder. “I hate to see you suffer.” And he’s gone.

The next day, you can’t forget Hosea’s words. You find him in the afternoon, reading a book in the shade. He doesn’t acknowledge you when you sit next to him; he’s waiting for you to speak.

“You’re right.” You hate to say it, as if Hosea needs to be reminded. He doesn’t say anything, so you continue.

“I’ve been holding on to Arthur for too long. All these years I’ve been stuck waiting for something to change. I need to move on and do what’s best for myself.”

Hosea is watching you. “And what does that look like right now?”

You focus on a knot in the wood of the table. “I’m going to tell him how I feel — not right now, but when I’m ready to leave again. I need that closure at least. He needs to know why I’m leaving, and I need to know once and for all that he doesn’t love me. Then I’ll return to Mr. Rochester and ask if I can continue working for him.”

Hosea places his hand over yours. “You’re very brave and very strong.”

You shake your head. “I’m a coward, always have been and always will be.”

A few moments pass. “If I leave, I’m not coming back.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Hosea doesn’t even blink.

“I’m going to miss you.”

“It’s not time for goodbyes yet.”

Knowing that this will be your last time with the gang fills your days with a strange melancholy. Every conversation feels more important. Every night feels more like a dream. It’s not hard for those close to you to realize something is wrong.

“Is everything okay?” Arthur asks. The last person you can bear to see. But he’s still one of your closest friends.

“Everything’s fine Arthur.” You’re still upset with him from a few days before.

“I’m here if you need me,” is all he says.

Dutch, either oblivious or uncaring of your strife, asks for your help on a burglary.

“I’m so glad you’ve come back to us. There’s a small plantation that is in need of your skills.” He claps you on the shoulder and leads you to a map. “Arthur can ride out with you, keep a lookout while you’re inside.”

Your stomach drops. Of course.

“I don’t need a lookout, Dutch. I’ll be fine on my own.”

“Nonsense,” he waves his hand, “You’ll leave at sunset.”

Sunset comes far too quickly. You’re brushing down your horse when you hear Arthur approach. “You ready?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you saddle up and start riding before Arthur even has a chance to catch up.

He catches up to you easily, falling in beside you and riding silently for a few minutes. You try to convince yourself that everything would be fine. It was just one job.

Arthur looks on the verge of saying something for several minutes before he actually speaks. “I never, uh, apologized -- for what I said a few days ago. I spoke out of line and I shouldn’t have. You’re doing right by yourself, and if you’re happy, then I can’t say nothing against it.”

His apology floors you. You had known Arthur to own up to his mistakes -- one of the many reasons you loved him -- but you had never seen him lay himself so bare before you. It was more of an apology than you deserved.

“Thank you, Arthur,” you finally manage. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you anyways. I just need to do what is best for myself. I’ll be on my way again soon.”

Arthur looks about ready to ask you something, but thinks the better of it. The question must have eaten away at him though, because he caves eventually. “Why do you spend so much time away from the gang?” He shakes his head as soon as the words leave his mouth. “Stupid question. I just -- you always seem half in half out. Not like Trelawny is either, it’s like there’s something keeping you.”

He was right. He saw right through you but somehow missed the mark. Did he not know that he was the reason you never truly left? That he was the reason you couldn’t bear to stay?

“It’s something I need to get over myself,” you answer. It was cryptic and vague, but you couldn’t tell him now. You weren’t ready yet. After the job, maybe? You could leave first thing tomorrow and ride back to Strawberry.

Arthur pulls up close and reaches for you. “I’m here, you know. If you need me. I can help. Lord knows you’ve been there for me all these years.”

You pull away, unable to even respond. His words are like a douse of ice cold water, like desert sand rubbing you raw.

The plantation is a moderate size, wealthy enough but not so much as to be crawling with guards. You and Arthur ditch the horses at the fence line, creeping up to the big house without any trouble.

One of the windows at the back of the house pushes open, and you tug your boots off and hand them to Arthur. “Hold on to these, I don’t want to be too loud in the house.”

He takes the boots and dutifully lifts you so you can climb through the window.

As unassuming as the property was, the inside speaks of wealth. Gilded, polished, velvet. You’ll make out of this with plenty of cash.

Watches, jewelry, pins, and pens. You fill your satchel and your pockets before you even make it to the stairs. There are some stacks of bills in the downstairs office that you shove into your shirt, but no safe or strongbox. There has to be one somewhere.

At the top of the stairs you’re faced with several closed doors. Low light flickers from beneath one, and you hear snoring from behind another. At the end of the hall, you find a room that looks to be cold and quiet. Picking the lock, you slip inside, lighting a match to see around the room.

It’s dark, a study of some sort with shelves along the walls and a heavy wooden desk. Your match burns down and you move over to the window, sliding the curtains aside and lifting the pane. Once you’re sure no one was about, you let out a long low whistle, easily mistaken for a dove.

But doves weren’t out this time of night.

Arthur hears the signal and rounds the house a moment later with your boots in tow. You wave to him before gesturing back inside. You just need to check this last room.

The strongbox is in the bottom of a wardrobe under some thick winter coats. You shove as many valuables as you can into your pockets and even your trousers. Arthur can take some of it off your hands when you get outside. Even with the window open, it’s very dark in the study, and you fumble blindly through the desk drawers for anything else.

You’re on your way to the door, ready to creep back down the stairs, when your socked foot catches on an end table. You’re able to suppress your cry of pain, but you can’t stop the loud crash as the table topples over and everything on it scatters to the floor.

“Shit,” you hiss, hopping back to the window.

Arthur must have heard the commotion as well because he’s looking up at you with an exasperated expression.

You hear a door down the hall slam followed by the sound of footsteps. Good thing you relocked the door behind you at least, buying you another half second hopefully.

Redrawing the curtains, you climb through the open window, hanging from the sill as your feet dangle uselessly an entire story off the ground.

The door to the study opens.

“Push off and jump,” Arthur hisses. “I’ll catch you.”

“What?” you ask, but do as he says anyways. It’s a half second drop before you land against something broad and grouchy. Definitely Arthur.

You’re both sprawled on the ground, but he drags you to your feet, shoving your boots at you. “We gotta run.”

“No shit,” you take off towards the fields, hoping the sugar cane will give you enough cover. Arthur, surprisingly, lets you tug your boots on once you’re shrouded in the tall plants. Both of you listen for sounds from the house.

“Take these,” you start pulling stolen items from your clothes and pushing them into Arthur’s arms.

“I thought you felt lumpier,” he says as he shoves everything into his satchel. You glare at him.

The two of you steal through the sugar cane at a snail’s pace, wary of anyone that may be looking for the burglar.

“What did they do to deserve Dutch’s attention?” you asked. There was definitely money in the house, but Dutch usually had motivations beyond just that.

“Look around you,” Arthur shakes a stalk. “Who do you think works these fields?”

“Ah,” It dawns on you, “Well paid white folk.” There’s no missing the sarcasm in your voice.

“Exactly,” Arthur grabs your hand and pulls you along. “One of the ‘workers’ gave Dutch the tip, in exchange, we’re splitting the take.”

“Sounds fair,” you try to keep pace with Arthur, but your foot catches on the sugar canes and you tumble forward.

Arthur turns to catch you, only to be flattened for a second time that night. You’re sprawled on top of him, cursing up a storm.

He shifts beneath you, and you realize his hands are pinned between your chests. “A lot less lumpy, now.” His grin is crooked, and his eyes shine. You huff and scramble to your feet. “Sorry,” he says as he dusts himself off.

“Let’s just get to the horses.”

Arthur picks through your findings as you ride back towards camp. “Damn,” he whistles, “I hope you make as good a governess as you do a burglar.”

His words hurt. You still aren’t ready to face that yet, but now may be as good a time as any.

“I’m leaving again,” you say. Your throat already feels tight and you know you won’t make it through this without crying.

“So soon? You’ve hardly been back a week!” Arthur looks almost angry with you.

“This time, I’m leaving for good. I talked with Hosea already; he says I should do what’s going to be best for me.”

Arthur doesn’t say anything, but his brows pinch together. You can’t understand what he’s feeling.

“Arthur,” your voice breaks. You can’t speak for several moments as you try to lessen your tears.

“I don’t get it.” He cuts in, “If leaving is going to hurt you like this, then why go at all? You’ve never liked it out there. You always hate leaving — I know you do.”

“Arthur,” you find your voice again, “You’re one of my dearest friends. All these years, you’ve stood by me. I made the foolish mistake of falling in love with you, and I’ve been too much of a coward to let you go. But I can’t lose any more years to loving you. I have to start a new life some time. I’m going back to Mr. Rochester. I’m going to live an honest life and teach two beautiful children, and maybe one day I’ll love someone the same way I love you. I’m sorry for burdening you with this, but I can’t leave until I know I’ve ended things here.”

The silence is suffocating. You feel like you’re drowning and you can only hope the current will wash you ashore.

“You love me?” Arthur looks dumbfounded. “You’ve left all these years because you love me?”

You don’t say anything. You’ve said enough. All that matters now is getting out of camp as fast as possible. You don’t even care about the money you’ve stolen. You’ll be gone by daybreak.

“You’re a fool. A damn fool.” His voice is raw.

It’s the last thing you want from him. Pity, mockery. You know how stupid you are, he doesn’t need to rub it in. Spurring your horse forward, you race back to camp, ignoring Arthur calling after you.

You make it back to camp. It’s late in the evening and only a few people are still awake, one of whom is Dutch, eagerly awaiting your return. He catches your expression and instantly reaches for you. “Is everything alright, dear? Where is Arthur? Is he safe?”

“Arthur is just fine,” you snap. He’s probably not far behind you, which means you only have a few minutes to leave before he gets back.

You begin dumping your spoils on the ground before Dutch, who is desperately trying to determine the source of your anguish.

“I’m leaving,” you tell him firmly. “I’ll pen a letter to Hosea as soon as I can.”

Dutch follows after you as you head to gather your things.

“Come, now,” he says. “You’ve only been back for a few days. At least rest some. You can leave once you’ve slept and eaten.”

You shake him off. “I’m going, Dutch.”

He doesn’t say anything more, just stands by as you pack your things and grab supplies from Pearson’s wagon. You approach him just before you mount up, unsure. “Thank you, Dutch. For being there for me.”

He looks at you, eyes seeing something you couldn’t even find in yourself. “You’ll be back.”

It’s not threatening, not angry or even sad. It’s something he knows.

Well, he’s wrong.

“Goodbye,” you squeeze his hand and turn back to your horse.

The poor beast is tired, but you push as hard as you can towards the heartlands. You’ve got to get as far away as you can before sunrise.

Except the crack of a pistol makes you and your horse start, and you search wildly for the source of the shot.

Three men on horseback appear from the brush. You were so caught up in your frustration you didn’t even see them.

“Stop,” the leader of the three demands.

You reign your horse in, already reaching for your pistol.

A lantern is raised. “Hey, aren’t you Missus Callahan?”

You squint in the low light and recognize the Rhodes Sheriff. “Yessir,” your voice is still shaky. You pray this isn’t your end.

“What are you doing out? Don’t you know there’s outlaws about ma’am?”

You shake your head. “I… I didn’t know.”

“Ma’am, are you feeling alright? You certainly don’t look too well.” It’s the deputy. The sheriff shoots him a harsh look.

“I’m fine, just needed some air is all,” you need to make your lie believable. “Arthur and I, we got into a fight.”

The lawmen have never looked more useless. They’re clearly out of their element trying to console an upset wife.

“Well,” the Sheriff smoothes his mustache, “what do you say we ride back into town. You can have a drink and a few hours to yourself, and we’ll see where we go from there.”

“Oh, no I-” You need to be gone. You can’t go back. “You must have important business. I couldn’t trouble y’all.”

“Nonsense,” the sheriff waves his hand. “It’s too late and too dangerous for a pretty young thing like you to be riding by yourself.”

If you protested any more, you would only rouse suspicion, so you give in and follow the three men back to town.

A long drink of whiskey later and you find yourself slumped asleep in the comfiest chair in the Sheriff’s office.

“Mr. Callahan,” a voice greets, “Just who we’re looking for!”

You blink awake, pushing up the brim of your hat up. Arthur looked terrible. You wondered if he had slept at all.

“Heard you had a bit of a lover’s quarrel last night, found your other half out in Scarlett Meadows near moonset.”

Arthur sees you and staggers forward. You’re surprised when he throws his arms around you, crushing you in close to him. “I thought you’d gone,” his voice was shot.

“I tried,” you tentatively return Arthur’s embrace.

“C’mon,” he tugs you towards the door, “Don’t worry. We’ll get everything sorted out.”

You didn’t trust him.

“Thank you,” Arthur extends a hand to the sheriff. “I appreciate you looking out for her.”

Against your better judgement, you follow Arthur. He leads you to a pasture by the lake, sliding out of the saddle and rolling out his bedroll. “If I sleep, will you still be here when I wake up?”

You eye him, but don’t say anything.

“Look, neither of us has slept in far too long. Get a few hours of rest and I promise we can sort everything out. I’m tired.”

You were tired too, so you rolled out your own bedroll. A few hours of sleep.

“You’re still here?” Arthur looks surprised.

You shrug. “Thought about leaving.” But Arthur had looked so peaceful in his sleep. Your weakness had kept you from abandoning him.

“I’m glad you didn’t. I can’t stop you if you want to go, but I can’t let you leave just yet.” He stretches, watching you as though you were startled prey.

“Don’t make me regret staying.”

Arthur chuckles. “I can’t promise that. But I need to get something off my chest.”

You glance at him, curious. What could Arthur have to say to you?

“Last night, you said you’re always leaving because you love me. That for some reason you can’t stay because of that. But you never told me. Why?”

It hurts. You fight down the pain in your chest and set your jaw. “I cared too much for you -- for everyone -- to ever truly leave. But I couldn’t bear to stay when I spent every day dreaming of something I couldn’t have. That’s why Hosea let me leave. I wanted things to work out for you. I wanted you to be happy with Mary. But the gang is my family.”

Arthur takes a slow breath. “All these years? You’ve been running away from me all these years because…” His brows pinch together as he struggles to find the words.

“I just…” you hold back tears. “I couldn’t bear to lose you. I have to let go sometime. I can have a life out in West Elizabeth. But I’ll miss you, Arthur.”

“You can’t leave.” He says the words and immediately grimaces. “I mean — you can, I just — I want you to do what is best for you… because I love you.”

Everything stops. The words nearly don’t register.

“How long?”

“What?” He looks bewildered.

“How long have you loved me?”

“A while,” he sighs. “Year or so? Since Vegas at least.”

You can’t believe it. “That long? And you never said anything?”

“Neither did you,” he counters.

“You were going to propose!” you hiss.

“She turned me down,” he looks to the ground.

“I’m sorry,” you place a hand on his shoulder. “You have to understand why I couldn’t stay.”

“I do.” Arthur looks up at you with sorrow in his eyes. “I think you can make a life for yourself with this… Manchester?”

“You think I’m going back to Mr. Rochester?” You blink, incredulous.

Arthur rubs his jaw. His eyes shine. “Seemed pretty set on it.”

His foolishness makes your heart hurt. “Arthur, I’d stay here — if you’d have me.”

He pulls you into his arms, crushing you to his chest. “I think we can take some time to figure it out. What do you say?”

“I say we’ve taken enough time, wouldn’t you?”

Dutch smirks when you ride back into camp with Arthur and collapse together in his tent. The whole day is spent whispering to each other, refusing to be apart for more than a few minutes. Arthur shows you pages in his journal when he had written about his feelings for you, and you talk about the many times you fell in love with him again and again.

Night falls, and Arthur pulls you into his arms before you can even think about leaving to sleep somewhere else. “I’ve got a lot of years to make up for. You’d best be ready for me to never let you go again.”

You rest against his chest, finally able to have the closeness you have dreamed of for years. The life you had wanted, together with Arthur.

You wake long before the sun rises, still nestled against Arthur. He’s awake as well, tracing shapes into your skin absentmindedly.

“You alright?” you ask.

“I’m perfect.”

You giggle -- actually giggle -- and press your lips to the exposed skin of Arthur’s chest. His breath hitches. You glance up in surprise.

“Darling,” he turns you to face him, gaze intense, “Can I make love to you?”

Your heart is going to beat out of your chest, and you’re sure you feel like hot coals the way your blood heats up. A shaky nod.

Arthur kisses you with so much heat and passion, gripping you tightly, trying desperately to memorize the feel of you against him. His lips trail over your jaw, down your neck. He rips open the front of your blouse and muffles your squeal of surprise with his palm. “Just let me take care of you,” his voice is low, breathy.

You’re heaving and shaking at his ferocity. It’s overwhelming, but you want this as much as he does. He drags your trousers down, lifting you easily and moving your hips to where he wants them. You’re surprised when he continues his trail of kisses from the crook of your knee up your thigh. “Arthur,” you gasp, “what are you-”

His tongue touches your heat and you gasp. He’s determined, a kind of fire and will that makes men cower before him. Instead, you’re crying and shaking as he drags his tongue over your clit and slips a finger inside of you. His other hand holds you so tightly, you may very well have bruises.

You come over his lips, quicker than ever in your life. And while you’re still dazed and reeling, his hand is on your cheek. You meet his eyes and see that the fire hasn’t subsided. “Can I take you, Darling? Please?”

You lean up to kiss him, one arm wrapped around his neck and the other reaching for his hard cock.

He slams into you to the hilt, muffling your screams with his lips. “Thank you,” he whispers against your skin. “I love you.”

You try to respond in kind, but he’s fucking you hard and fast. The roughness would scare you coming from anyone else, but this is Arthur. He’s holding you so closely, eyes fluttering and lips parted. You cling to him as well, years of pain and longing washing away as your fingers skim across his bare skin.

His cock fills you like nothing ever before. His hands are rough but gentle against your skin. You could stay like this forever.

You come again, vision going white as you drag your nails down Arthur’s back and feel only a little remorse. He follows shortly after, spilling over your stomach before collapsing on top of you, knocking the wind out of you.

“Arthur,” you wheeze. “I love you, but I can’t breathe.”

He rolls to the side, dragging you in close and nuzzling into your hair. “We can wash up in a few minutes. I just need to hold you.”

You press a kiss to his lips, soft and gentle, one of thousands more to come.

#look #this isnt my best work #but i just want it gone #i tried my best #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan/reader #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #smut #lemons #my rdr2 fic #arthur callahan #fake marriage

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busterkeatonfanfic · 4 years ago

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Chapter 22

As Nelly washed her face and braided her hair that night, she could scarcely believe that the weekend was almost over. It had been a happy blur of fishing, bridge lessons, walks in the woods, songs under the stars, and tonight a campfire and a ukulele concert after a dinner of wheat cakes and maple syrup. And of course, not a trivial amount of that time had been passed in bed with Buster. As she’d spent those blissful hours with him, time zipped by without her noticing.

Buster was humming to himself from the other room and Nelly wondered if the weekend had gone the way he’d expected. She wondered, not the first time, what had he expected. From the way he was behaving, he seemed cheerful and serene, but she wasn’t sure. Men were mysterious. Tomorrow he would go back to his wife and she would return to being a cog in the United Artists machine.

Before leaving the washroom, she brushed her teeth. She was half-tempted to shed her chemise and knickers ahead of bed; they always ended up torn off in the middle of the night anyway.

In the other room, Buster was sitting up in bed with the blankets pulled over his lap and her little red book in his hands, paging through Mistress Nell Gwyn. She felt a flush of embarrassment and regretted not bringing a more serious book along.

“Are you reading it ‘cause the main girl’s called Nelly?” he said, looking up at her.

Her face warmed as she checked the lock to the front door and turned off the floor lamp near the kitchen. “No, I like Marjorie Bowen and I hadn’t read this one yet. The name’s just a coincidence.” And it was, truly. “What do you read?” she said to switch the subject. They’d gotten around to discussing their favorite music (they both liked Bix Beiderbecke, Louis Armstrong and his Hot Five, and Paul Whiteman), but not their favorite books.

Buster looked slightly abashed as she switched off the table lamp by the sofa. “Does Popular Mechanics count?”

“Well, not as far as novels go,” she said, crossing the room and lifting the corner of the sheets on her side of the bed to slide in next to Buster.

“I read a dime novel once and awhile. Mostly don’t have the time,” said Buster. “But your book—she’s sweet on old King Charlie?”

Nelly took the book from him, amused. “King Charles II,” she corrected.

“Why d’ya like it?” said Buster. He burrowed deeper into the covers and snuggled against her shoulder like a boy wanting a bedtime story.

“I like novels based on real things. I get a history lesson and the people from back then feel more real.”

“Did you see my picture The General?” asked Buster.

“Of course,” said Nelly. Her memory of the film wasn’t very strong, but she knew that she had enjoyed it quite a lot and remembered gasping with the rest of the audience at his daring stunts on the train. She seemed to recall that she found him good-looking with his long hair and sober looks, but apparently not so good-looking that she’d felt compelled to write him a mash note or glue his picture into her scrapbook like she had with John Barrymore.

“Now that picture, you see, was based on real facts. And the train was really called the General!” Buster launched into the story of the Great Locomotive Chase of 1862, and Nelly listened with contentment to his animated retelling. He talked all about the production of the picture, having to find narrow-gauge railroad tracks, learning how to operate a steam engine, hiring the National Guard to play soldiers, and playing baseball near the Willamette Valley. “I thought it was my finest picture but the critics all blasted it. Said it was a flop. I haven’t been able to make sense of it. Guess they thought I should leave the serious acting to types like your fellow, John Barrymore.”

“He’s not my fellow, Buster,” Nelly chided. She ran her fingers idly through his dark hair.

“What happened to being his leading lady?” he said, kissing her bare upper arm.

“Oh, don’t tease me for being romantic when I didn’t know him. I didn’t know what he was really like. Didn’t I tell you? When I was in Tempest, he came right into the ladies room and pissed in the sink right in front of me. And if that wasn’t enough, he picked his nose right in front of me too! He was so drunk he couldn’t tell left from right. I had to help him back to Mr. Taylor.”

Buster laughed. “You’re kidding.”

“Gosh, I wish I was. He kept us there all night he was so drunk. They had to build a sort of carousel for Camilla Horn and him to finish their ballroom dance.” Thinking of Tempest, Nelly was reminded of something that had been on her mind since her hours with Buster had begun to draw to a close. “I want to say something serious to you now though.”

Buster, to his credit, didn’t try to make a joke. “What’s that?”

“In the book”—for a second, Nelly lifted the red volume that lay between them—“Nell Gwyn is just an orange seller at the playhouse. One night, King Charles invites her to a tavern with his friends Rochester and Buckingham. He remembers seeing her before and likes her. While they’re eating and drinking, he asks what she means to do with her life and she says that she wants to be an actress. Then she dances for him and he leaves her a pair of silver shoes as a gift because she pays for his food and drink. You think that he’s going to see to it that she becomes an actress, but he doesn’t. He has his own matters to worry about and goes on with his life, but she becomes a successful actress on her own—I’m only halfway through of course—and anyhow that’s how he notices her again. He goes to a play and she’s starring.”

“Oh yeah?” said Buster, obviously not understanding.

“Well, what I’m saying is I appreciate you putting in a word for me with Mr. Taylor, but if you want to continue seeing me …”

Here she paused. It was a brave thing to say aloud because she didn’t know, not for certain, if Buster did want to see her after he dropped her back off at her apartment tomorrow. It wasn’t just false modesty. For all she knew, he had getaways with girls all the time, a new one for every weekend. His waywardness with women had, after all, been one of the first things she’d heard about him back in River Junction: all a girl had to do to seduce him was walk into his dressing room.

“I don’t want any more favors and I won’t ask for any. I don’t want to play angles anymore. In fact, I prefer to try it on my own in the future, getting parts that is, just to see if I can, if I’m good enough to make it without help. Like Nell Gwyn was.” She let out a deep breath, afraid of his reaction.

“I think that’s fine,” he said, putting a hand on her jaw and turning her head to his so he could kiss her lips. His expression registered no displeasure. “Only I never talked to Sam Taylor. You did that one on your own. Honest.”

Nelly could hardly believe it.“Really?” she said, scanning his eyes to see if he was being truthful.

“ ‘Course not. Had nothing to do with me,” he said.

“Oh. Well…” said Nelly, feeling silly.

“I’ll make a note. No angles, no favors. I’ll let you go it alone like your Nell Gwyn.” He took her hand and brought it to his lips. “Tell me what happens next in your book, though.”

Feeling that a weight had been lifted, Nelly went on. “Well, the King sees Nell at a play and as soon as he notices her silver shoes, he remembers who she is.”

“Then what?” said Buster, caressing her hand.

“I don’t know. Then she becomes his mistress,” Nelly said. She felt embarrassed to admit that she read such books.

“Did he have a queen?”

“Oh yes, Queen Catherine, the one who got the British to start drinking tea, but she doesn’t get much mention in the book. Mrs. Bowen’s more concerned with his mistresses. He had about a dozen. There’s the Countess of Castlemaine and Moll Davis, who’s another actress. Nelly was just one, but she was the most loyal.” She looked down to where Buster was holding her hand in his and rubbing it with a thumb, and wondered what he was thinking about her foolish taste in novels.

“Will you be my mistress?”

Nelly turned her face to him, stunned. For a moment, she thought it was just one of his many jokes. One look at the beseeching expression on his face told her it wasn’t. Such waves of happiness and consternation struck her then that it was several seconds before she could answer. “Yes,” she said. There could hardly be another answer. And yet even as she consented, she thought of the Countess of Castlemaine, Moll Davis, and the Duchess of Portsmouth.

“You got this look on your face,” said Buster.

“Do I?” she said, feeling flustered.

“Yeah. A look that’s telling me you got something on your mind you ain’t telling me.”

Now that they were being so honest, she couldn’t deny him the real answer, even though it was preposterous to ask for faithfulness from a man who was already someone else’s husband.

“Well, are there others?” she said, searching his eyes.

“Other what?” said Buster, cocking his head a little. “Mistresses? No.” He squeezed her hand. “Now I ain’t going to lie, I’ve had steadies before, not what you’d call mistresses exactly, but cross my heart I haven’t been with a girl in months. Are you asking if I’ll be true to you?”

Nelly looked away. “Oh, I don’t know,” she said, but reminded herself she was trying to be honest. “I suppose I am and it’s the silliest thing to ask. I know you’re married. I’m not asking you to… Well, I guess I don’t know what I’m asking. Maybe I’m a little jealous, not about your wife, but about other girls because I—I like you already.” She looked back at him, fearing his reaction, but he was only regarding her in the same interested way he had when she’d relayed the plot of her book. “Please don’t take what I’m saying the wrong way, I know it seems like I’m looking a gift horse in the mouth,” she said hurriedly. “And I don’t expect you to keep me either like King Charles keeps Nelly, with satin and pearls and houses. Oh, I’m sorry for making this such a muddle. All I should have said was yes. I just want to be pals like we’ve been this weekend. I know it’s not right to ask.”

“ ‘Course we’ll stay pals,” said Buster. “And I promise no satin and pearls. I can still buy you dinner, can’t I?”

Nelly laughed, her spirits feeling lighter. “Of course you can. I just don’t want to be a kept woman, okay? You can still do all the normal stuff a fellow would.”

Buster’s hand found its way down the front of her chemise and she pulled in a sharp breath as he rolled his finger lightly around the perimeter of her nipple. “Like this?”

She nodded, her eyes closing as his thumb joined the finger and pinched with gentle pressure. Her mind went back to the sight of him between her legs in the forest, his dark messy hair that he’d stopped slicking down with Brilliantine during the course of the weekend, and she groaned at the memory. She rolled onto her side, Buster’s hand still busy at her breast, and slid her hand beneath the brim of his pajama trousers.

“You’re not wearing any underwear,” she said, grasping the warm, silky length of him.

Buster shifted onto his side. “Yeah, you’ve been teaching me something about efficiency.” He gave a wince of pleasure as she began to move her hand up and down. He withdrew his hand from her chemise and put it in her knickers, and she felt as warm as she had in the sun on Saturday as his fingers began their clever work.

They exchanged pleasures like that for a couple minutes before Buster began tugging her chemise over her head. She unbuttoned his pajama shirt as he played with her breasts. It would be a terribly long time before she was ever bored by the way he tensed his stomach when she touched him, making all the muscles stand out like they were sculpted in marble. She pressed her breasts against her chest as she pulled his pajama shirt the rest of the way off of him, and Buster began wrestling her knickers down. When they were all the way undressed, both still lying on their sides, Nelly put her leg over him.

“Let’s try it without,” she whispered, as Buster kissed her neck and ear. It was a crazy thing to ask, but she was beyond thinking straight.

“What, without a thin?” he said with surprise.

“I think it’d be okay. If you pull out before--” She blushed. “I want to see how it feels without it.”

Buster kissed her forehead once, twice, three times in obvious gratitude. “Alright.”

Nelly shifted herself lower and guided him into her with a hand. For a few moments, Buster was perfectly still. Nelly breathed deeply, feeling him without a barrier for the first time and jubilant with the sensation, as well as the weight of his proposal. A mistress.

He made love to her more slowly than he had on previous occasions, pausing for long stretches to kiss her, then grasping her backside to push himself deeper. Eventually, the slow pace sent her into such a frenzy that she took control of the rhythm. He caught on and went faster. When every muscle on him stood out again as if sculpted, she knew he was close.

“Don’t forget to pull out,” she said, seeking his eyes.

“I won’t,” he said breathlessly. He gave such a fierce, pleasurable thrust that she keened, and that caused him to withdraw suddenly and rock himself against her stomach until he came with a shuddering groan.

She stroked his cheekbone when he was finished. His eyes had closed and his breathing was deep and satisfied. Buster Keaton’s mistress. She was so filled with the thought that she felt barely any guilt when she thought of his wife. It was, after all, easy to justify. He was not intimate with her; she had realized that when he mentioned that he slept alone. She had never forgotten his statement the night of his party either, that the marriage was headed for divorce. But there she cut off her thoughts. She was getting far too ahead of herself. It was enough that they had gotten on like a house on fire and that Buster was holding her in his arms now, smelling like sweat and cigarettes and himself.

“Buster,” she said. She could tell he was starting to fall asleep.

“Mmmph,” said Buster.

“We should set an alarm for tomorrow. My tram leaves at 6:45 and I’ve got to be at work around 7:30. We should get up at four so we have time to pack and so I can get ready.”

Buster rolled onto his back and cupped the crown of his head in his hands. “Don’t worry about the tram, I’ll drop you off.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I don’t want to get you into any trouble. If anyone sees us, they’ll talk,” she said.

Buster opened one eye and lifted his eyebrow. “Let ‘em talk,” he said.

“Okay,” said Nelly, not quite knowing what to make of this attitude.

Nell Gwyn had been no secret to King Charles II’s subjects, but somehow Nelly thought that Buster Keaton’s public would be less tolerant if he got into the habit of parading around a mistress. Nonetheless, she didn’t argue with him. As she cleaned his seed off of her in the washroom, she didn’t have a thought except for how happy she was when she was around him.

Note: Just a PSA that this is fiction and not an endorsement of the pull-out method (although Planned Parenthood notes that it is 96% effective if used correctly 100% of the time). Obviously it doesn't prevent STDs. You should always use protection with a new partner. ;)

#Buster Keaton #Fan fiction #RPF #Actor RPF #Golden Age Hollywood #silent film

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6v6taeminisloveshineeworld · 5 years ago

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Homme Fatale -Dentist!Vampire!Taemin X Reader

homme fatale

i. e. An undoubtedly seductive and dangerous man. One with a smile that would be too cruel not to kiss and a cherubic face with a temperament that’s anything but innocent.

Summary: He was cloaked by the smell of death and wore it as armor. His life had little meaning, he pillaged through the world only to beguile and destroy as his veins hummed with bloodlust and selfish need. Nocturnal creatures should not be swayed by the beating hearts of the living but when Taemin catches a glimpse of you, a mortal in possession of a treacherous supernatural gift, he is faced with the temptation to claim you as his own. At his mercy, you discover a darkness in yourself that you’ve never dared to explore and you never imagined it could taste so sweet.

Genre: Smut, Romance, Dentist AU, Vampire AU, Supernatural, Horror, Lyric fic inspired by WANT MV and other Taemin song lyrics (easter eggs abound)

Rating: M for sexual content, death, and blood

Pairing: Taemin x Female Reader

Word Count: 5.5k+

You’d always had an unhealthy fascination with death. With autumn winds and the way the colors seemed even more vibrant just before everything fell and turned cold. When you were a child you’d been scared of the dark just like everyone else, until the day that same darkness befriended you.

Your parents always said you’d had an overactive imagination growing up. That you’d kept invisible friends far longer than your classmates and that maybe this was due to the fact that they had never given you any siblings but they were wrong. Your friends were not imaginary, they were just unable to communicate with anyone else.

It was on your tenth birthday that you first had a full conversation with a ghost. The little girl with blonde hair and green eyes was named Pomona and she seemed to like the same games and books you did. She loved building tree houses in the woods even though she couldn’t carry anything herself. She took sips of the green tea you served her by leaning into the cup with her tongue.

Even though your visitor glided through walls with ease she was still able to keep down a meal. You’d laughed at her manners and held her hand. To your surprise, you felt the touch of her smooth skin as you never had been able to before. It was then that you knew you were truly different, you would never be able to unsee the spectors that appeared every day before you walking in the streets beside you. Not only was the veil lifted from your eyes unlike others around you but you seemed to be a part of their world as well and it had made Pomona’s departure from you as she ascended to join her family that much harder.

When your parents had died in a car crash right on the outskirts of town you had thought that maybe this was why you’d been born with these gifts, that maybe your life of living like a pariah was all so that you could have this chance to communicate with your parents even in the afterlife. But there was no apparition. No voices that called for you from the curtain that separated the living from the dead. And with that hope of communication gone you were left with a gaping hole inside of you but you continued on living in the world as invisibly as you could. It wasn’t hard to do in the small town of Ampleforth where everyone knew their neighbors but still kept to themselves and their clicks. The crowd around your age kept at a distance and the elders that passed you by in the grocery store looked at you with sympathy or rather through you at the poor orphan who never made friends easily.

During your teenage years you’d had your share of otherworldly lovers. They came eagerly when you called to them while your parents refused to answer you from beyond. It didn’t matter how many candles you lit in your loneliness or how many beautiful fantoms kissed you with lips cold as hell. You never let them possess your soul. You never gave away the reigns of control to anyone.

That isn’t to say you hadn’t tried making living friends. However, most people in Ampleforth didn’t want to think about anywhere beyond Lastshire the next town over. You wanted to travel, you believed that to see the world was to live and you wanted to leave once you had enough money to do so. The townspeople were stuck in their roots and their old ways and even technology was a bit rustic. You often found yourself using the library wifi outside laying on the lawn with Emma, the only friend who really understood you even without knowing your secret in full beyond your morbid curiosities. And today, like any other Friday night was no exception.

You looked away from your book to glance at her as she laughed aloud and continued to scan her phone. You bookmarked the page where Mr. Rochester disguised as a gypsy woman tells Jane her fortune for what must have been the tenth time you’ve read it over the years and move closer to Emma.

“What are you reading?” You asked her curiously. “Fanfiction of course,” Emma said smiling. You joined her, reading along and smiling at the fact that someone was so comfortable around you even when you remained silent.

The graveyard was especially chilly at sunset. You placed your freehand in your pocket to warm it and clutched the bag of glazed donuts and bouquet of white lilies to your chest with the other. Your parents graves resided on the grounds of St. Samael church, though the grounds hadn’t been tended in ages. After enemy troops from the Battle of Cymadd two-hundred years before took refuge in its walls it was seen as a sacrilege to worship here. Your mother and father however had lovely memories of picnics and stolen kisses on these grounds where no one would look for them and so when their will had stated that they were to be buried here in the desecrated church you hadn’t batted an eye though the tongues of Ampleforth had wagged.

You knelt before their graves and blew off the dried leaves. You divided the flowers evenly between them and placed a donut on each of the stones as you sat beside them and ate the rest. The anniversary of their death always washed you with a flood of anxiety. It was foolish to think that maybe on this day the abyss driven between you and them would be broken and they would appear before you. On the other hand you chided yourself for such selfish wishes. They were happy in their own paradise and only an ungrateful daughter would wish them to visit the earth once more, even if it was to say goodbye.

The tears came then, unbidden. You lay on your back and shut your eyes. Shutting the pain away simultaneously for crying never could erase the scars. At least here in the darkness you knew yourself even when your own thoughts were frightening and loud to your own ears.

Your mind was filled with the epitaphs of the graves that stood tall here around you, phases passed your eyelids like shooting stars.

Life is but the whisper of death, in sleep we are merely participants of a new condition.

To have loved and lost I know this, there is no greater torment than to love that which parishes.

Just as the last strokes of light were painting the sky you felt the cold hands of death embrace you at your shoulders. You opened your eyes quickly to find a young girl looking down at you in concern. Her wide blue eyes fringed by long lashes reminded you of a porcelain doll. The frigid bite of her fingers and her flawless features confirmed she was a ghost and one most likely buried here in St. Samael by the look of her outdated lilac petticoats. A giant bow rested at the back of her head, holding her raven hair away from her face as it cascaded over her shoulder.

“I miss my parents too.” the girl said quietly.

“What’s your name? What’s keeping you from passing on and joining them.” You ask softly.

“My name is Callitae, and I stayed so that I could visit my father who still roams this earth visible to the living.”

“That’s not possible, if your father were still on earth he would be a ghost same as you.” You said in confusion.

“My father is very much dead but it is not his time to turn to dust either. However, the wheel of time seems to be running quickly for you, it comforts me to know that in your heart it is not death you fear but loneliness.” And with those bleak words she vanished into the mist of dusk.

You made your way along the path to your car, careful not to trip over rocks and the overgrowth of the untamed forest as all the while you felt the eyes of an unfamiliar presence upon you wolflike in its intensity. You moved a little faster and didn’t look back.

~ One Year Later ~

Aldermire castle was at the very edge of Ampleforth, it was so named for its seemingly endless grounds of alder trees that swayed in honeyed light green shades against the sun. It was more of a manor than a castle but according to gossip that became legend, the man who once lived there with his wife and servants had the tastes and charisma of a king. He’d been a general during the battle of Cymadd with many honors to his name praising his valor and ferocity on the fields. This granted him favor in the eyes of many of the council but some were wary of him for he seemed to possess an almost inhuman tolerance for pain.

He’d survived the torture masters of the enemy when he was captured and taken prisoner as none before him had. When he’d come back home to Aldermire and his wife he’d seemed like a living corpse. He recovered quickly under his wife’s care however, and by spring their first and last child was born for the mother died soon after.

The master of Aldermire grew more reclusive in his grief and never took in visitors. He raised his daughter on his own but she was a delicate creature born before her time and prone to sickness easily. When she died of the plague that ravished Ampleforth faster than forest fire he lost the last anchor to life that he had and in his sorrow, it was said that he burned the castle locking himself inside as well. Even so, Aldermire was spared complete collapse as servants rushed to put out the flames but his body had never been found.

As you drove past the alder trees and took in the overgrown vines that clung to the castle like the brambles of Thornfield Hall in Jane Eyre, a sense of excitement washed over you. You’d tried to catch glimpses of the castle before in your childhood but the forest had been so thick and the barbed wires attached to ‘no trespassing’ signs had looked so menacing you’d given up until that morning when Emma had called to say that “the creepy castle” you’d always wanted to explore as a child was now sold to the new dental surgeon in town who had renovated it as his clinic.

It seemed the surgeon had appeared overnight, so quick were these renovations and appointments from patients in towns even farther than Lastshire but supposedly he’d been fixing the place a year in advance before ever stepping foot in Ampleforth. You supposed it was quite odd for a man of his profession to move so often but really what did you know of wealthy people and their judgment.

The grounds were beautiful with crimson roses and golden apple trees. It was like something out of a fairytale when you pulled up at the driveway and walked up the stone path. You knocked on the heavy wooden door with its brass knocker, your heart racing all the while as you tidied your appearance and took in the words in bronze lettering in Latin above the door that read: VENI, VIDI, VICI. I came, I saw, I conquered. An intriguing surgeon indeed.

A middle-aged woman opened the door with a smile, her red heels and black mini skirt made you feel a bit self-conscious in your jean shorts and white blouse as you followed the sway of her hips inside. You noticed the white gauze bandage at her neck and wondered at if for a moment before turning your attention to the interior of Aldermire.

You were happy to see that though the new owner had renovated the castle for a clinic he seemed to want to keep the atmosphere of what the estate might have been like before. While some rooms had been entirely rebuilt to resemble a white-walled art studio, others seemed untouched by time and filled with bookshelves, upholstered chairs, and artwork against the old stone walls.

You stopped in the hall to look at the paintings. All of them were memento mori’s displaying the reminder of mortality in its depictions of flower-filled vases, candles, fruits, and skulls.

You peeked into room after room till you came to one with a small shooting range. The door was wide open as all the others had been. It seemed the owner loved showing his collections to the public though you felt that this room should surely be locked. Guns lined the far wall along with other combat gear. Well, at least the weapons seemed secure behind the glass cases.

“The master of the house is an excellent hunter,” The receptionist said, turning to look at you. “I do believe it is one of his favorite hobbies.” You nodded, taking one last look at the room before continuing to follow her down the hall to yet another room with stark white walls.

“You may wait in this room,” the receptionist said with another bright smile as she motioned you forward into what looked like a surgical lounge chair with mirrors facing you on all sides. Before you could protest that you weren't planning on having any teeth extracted she was out of the room, shutting the door firmly behind her.

The room was far too cold. You shiver under the thin material of your blouse as you take in the smell of cleaning chemicals and fruity furniture spray. Your spine tingles at the waft of air that assaults you from the vent above your head, the metal chair you are seated in presses against the back of your thighs like ice.

Along the walls of the room were bookcases, carefully filed papers, a small world globe, and to your trepidation an entire metal table covered in a white cloth that was filled with instruments. Some of which you wondered if they really were for teeth or something else entirely. Your stomach twisted with apprehension as you took in the empty syringes but before you could make your way to the door you heard footsteps approaching and you quickly sat down again.

The door rattled open and you shifted your attention to the man who walked in. To your amazement, he was younger than you imagined. He in his mid-twenties maybe. He was very attractive which was not to be taken lightly in your mind for you had seen a great deal of beautiful spirits and judging by the way he held himself with such confidence in his stride he full well knew it too.

If you’d seen him anywhere else you would imagine he was a model or singer instead of a dental surgeon. He was dressed in the most strikingly bright red suit you had ever seen and his blond hair was combed back revealing his forehead in a contradictingly neat but disheveled manner as if he had just run his hand through it before walking in.

“Hello, are you Dr. Lee?” You said.

His smile was bright enough to be plastered on every teeth-whitening poster in the lobby. “Please call me Taemin,” he said with a pronounced accent. You remember reading that he had transferred ownership of his successful clinic in South Korea to travel abroad setting up clinics from state to state and renting out large houses. Again you wondered why a surgeon as successful as he would travel so much. But then maybe he just liked the change of scenery. Certainly if you had the opportunity to see the world you would take it. Your brain was trying to piece the whole thing together rationally but under his very direct gaze, you felt exposed and flustered as you never had before.

“What is your name?” He asked as he went to a drawer at the side of the chair and pulled out a white apron that fastened at the hips. His leg brushed yours as he closed the drawer and you shifted in your seat. His proximity making you nervous and excited even. The way his familiar blue eyes seemed to pierce you as he asked such an ordinary question made you wonder if what he really asked for was so much more. Where had you seen eyes like his before? You felt a bit lightheaded the more you tried to remember.

At this moment you believed that if this total stranger asked anything of you, you’d give in without hesitation. There was something captivating about his aura, possessive even. For the first time in your life, you found yourself enjoying the feeling of being so inexorably won over, it was more than a little intoxicating.

You mumbled your name aloud, thankful that your voice didn’t shake.

Taemin proceeded to put on elbow-length black gloves made of soft glittering velvet. Definitely not something anyone would want to use on a patient, you thought. They were more fit for a goth cinderella at a Halloween mask ball than anything else. This image would have made you laugh if it wasn’t for the fact that he looked so damn sexy putting them on. He held one of the gloves between his teeth as he pulled the fabric slowly up his arm.

When he finished he came so close to your ear you could smell his cologne full of spice and gardenias as he whispered, “I think you know I’m not the kind of dentist you’re used to” his hot breath against your earlobe and his words made your heart race and your legs squeeze together. Your curiosity overriding your fear as you answered,

“I’m more than okay with that.”

He pulled back and smiled warmly, seemingly satisfied by this answer. He brought his gloved fingertip to your collarbone and moved his hand slowly till his fingers clasped your chin pulling it up to look at him. His eyes changed from blue to crimson and before you could fully process the fact that yet another one of your lovers was undoubtedly inhuman, his plump lips were at your neck kissing a trail down your chest as he effortlessly unbuttoned your blouse and unpinned your bra, throwing each to the floor.

Your entire body was on fire now and he hadn’t even begun. You felt your body arch into his kisses on your skin and you gasped as you looked down to see him unzipping your jeans with his teeth. He pulled the material past your ankles and tossed them aside as well.

His gloved hands spread your knees apart as if you were a book he so desperately wanted to read. His lips moved to the inside of your thighs, nipping at your skin lightly as he went and purposely skipping over where you craved him the most. It was torturous till he blew on your already embarrassingly wet underwear, sending a shiver through you.

“You have no self-control,” He said with amusement. “We can change that,” he lifted your hips and removed the last article of clothing before kneeling before you. And then he was painting butterflies against you with every skillful stroke of his tongue. Your small whimpers escalated to moans as you disheveled his hair further.

“You want it more, don’t you?” Taemin said, pulling away and licking his lips. “And you’ll always be left wanting more, thirsting for more of me.”

“Yes, I do want you,” you said boldly surprised by your own shameless actions as you pulled him closer.

“My patients are usually so boring,” he said with a devilish laugh. Handsome devil. You thought as he continued. “Usually a syringe of blood is all I take and I tidy their minds so that they forget any unpleasant feelings but with you, no. Compulsion is not necessary, I want you to savor every moment till you fall for me without limit, beyond all instinct or reasoning just as I have fallen for you.”

He moves to your neck again and this time you could feel sharp teeth graze your skin. He gripped your shoulders before piercing your flesh with his fangs. Your initial gasp of pain soon turns to pleasure as he drinks heavily from you. In a world overrun by ghosts why did the existence of vampires surprise you? You gazed into the mirrors that surrounded you and watched as blood trickled across your skin. Taemin’s reflection was nowhere to be seen, light seeped through him as if he wasn’t there at all. An airy groan escapes you again when he pulls your hair back to allow better access to your neck.

You move from the chair to stand and raise one leg to his hip. He loosens his grip on your hair then, taking you by the waist and lifting you effortlessly, mounting you against him. “What sweet forbidden fruit you are.” He says as he licks the droplets of blood left on your neck and circles the two small punctures with his tongue so harshly you’re sure it will bruise.

“I’m all you will see now, I’m your new world,” Taemin said before sealing that promise with a kiss. His lips claim yours hungrily and you responded just as fiercely, your tongue probing his in a battle for dominance as you moved against him. The taste of him and the mingling coppery trace of your blood made you realize you’d been starving and only he could satiate you now.

He carried you across the room, opening a door in the back that led to what must have been his bedroom. He gently set you on the floor and you took in the room. It was dimly lit with beautiful candelabras, an armour, and several paintings. The bed with its intricately carved mahogany headboard and satin white sheets was at the center.

“Get on the bed, love.” He says as he moves towards the corner of the room.

You do so nervously, laying back against the pillows and watching Taemin open a cage. Your eyes widen as black snakes slither free. They seemed to stop and look to him for guidance and Taemin looked them in the eye and said, “be gentle with our new pet.”

Your heart beats wildly as the snakes come toward you but you dare not move. This was some sort of test you knew and even though a small part of you wanted to bolt, a larger, more insistent thrum of curiosity and anticipation overwhelmed you. The snakes were each quite beautiful in the way that some lovely things are terrifying. Their glossy scales shone under the candlelight as two furled around your ankles and two more held your wrists bound against the bedposts. They were long enough that their bodies circled the posts several times. Their pink forked-tongues seemed to taunt you as they watched you squirm. Another glided up your stomach and between your breasts only to coil itself around your neck and fall asleep against the warmth of your skin.

“You are a prisoner to it all now, my love,” Taemin said as he removed his right glove with his teeth and slipped two fingers inside you. You engulfed him greedily, blissfully surrendering to the slow movements of his fingers and the way you lost control of your hips as you writhed against your restraints. “You’re a prisoner to this heat, to my touch, and to my voice.” He said in a singsong that encompassed your senses.

“I’ll tease you slowly,” Taemin said as his gloved hand rubbed circles against you, the velvety fabric sending shockwaves coursing through your body to the tips of your toes as they curled. “-Until the only name you taste against that pretty little mouth of yours is mine.” Your shuddering climax is met with erratic breaths as you will yourself not to beg for more. Here you were bare and shaking sweatily before him as he stood, still fully clothed and collected looking down on you with that deceitfully cherubic face. It sent daggers to your pride and yet how willingly you accepted your fate.

Sensing your thoughts he began to undress as calmly and languorously as he did everything else. He seemed to take delight in the show he was putting on for you. His eyes glowed with mischief as he undid the last button of his suit and you found yourself unable to look away. He was muscular yet grace filled his form. He was a walking paradox, lithe and powerful all at once.

“My very existence is a sin,” Taemin said as he climbed onto the bed. “An unholy predator whose thirst will never be satisfied. And you love, are my prey.”

He kissed you again and suddenly you found that the world was no longer monochrome but dripping with color. You felt alive as you never had before. The grey world died as his naked body danced with your naked soul and you felt as if you were drenched in light. Vulnerable yet safe, adrift in a pure deep sea. You wanted to drown in this time with him, you crashed into one another as waves on a moon-white shore.

You want to trace the valley of his arms, you want to touch him though you can’t reach him. That is when you feel the snakes release you. You embrace him fully and in this moment, words aren’t necessary.

You surfaced breathless and entranced as you took in his eyes again, they melted into deep blue once more. Your hearts beat to the same rhythm as Taemin moved to lay beside you. It was at that moment as he held you in his arms that your memory resurfaced, his eyes were the same as the raven-haired girl’s in the graveyard you’d seen a year before. She had her father’s eyes you realized.

He seemed to read the question in your eyes for he said, “Yes, Callie is my daughter. She was born here and she died here within these walls just as her mother did. It was my fault she died.” He said, shaking his head. “My wife couldn't bear to see me suffer, when the enemy commander turned me into a monster I turned against them and after that massacre I refused to follow my new instincts and feed. I was stubborn and prideful and when I came back to her arms I was weak. She gave me her blood without care for herself and like a beast, I drained her slowly and gave in to what we wanted most: a child. She couldn’t have known how baring a Child of Night would cause her to suffer but I should have known better. If I hadn’t weakened her so, if-”

“Shhh,” You drew your fingers to his lips to silence him and pulled him to your breast, wrapping your arms around him firmly. “She loved you and she did what she wanted to do for you and for her beautiful daughter. I know that she wouldn’t have wanted anything more than to have her no matter the consequence.”

He took your wrist and brought it to his lips, then he traced your blue veins with the pad of his thumb before he said, “I knew from the moment I beheld you laying in the graveyard under that brilliant amber sunset that your soul was seeking mine. I pursued you shamelessly afterward as if you were tethered to me and I couldn’t let you go. You haunted my thoughts and made me care as I never thought I could again. It is a lie that the Children of Night are soulless and heartless, ours are bound to this earth as much as any mortal and they burn just as brightly.”

You entwined your fingers with his.

“In your eyes I saw that we both shared the same spirit.” Taemin said brushing a kiss to your forehead. “We both fear being trapped but most of all we fear the way we isolate ourselves, there is no life, no death for us but rather a long and lonely road filled with people who see straight through us.”

“I know what you mean,” You said. “We are alone in ways no one else can begin to understand and yet I want to know you better than I know myself.”

“I never want to lose the one I love ever again,” Taemin said earnestly, he took your hands in his and squeezed them. “Would you spend forever with me till the earth itself crumbles with the weight of falling stars? Would you give me your soul to hold as my equal? All that I ask of you is to love me, respect me, obey me and I will be your slave for all of eternity.”

“Then I am yours completely, in heart, body, and soul, I am yours just as you are mine.” You said.

“It won't be painless,” He said with worry written in his eyes.

“Death is earned is it not?” You said, looking at him confidently. “I trust you.” You said more quietly.

“You scare me a great deal.” He said. You laughed at that, raising an eyebrow quizzically.

“Why?” You asked.

“Because you make me want to be a better man. My love, I am no angel. I am devious.” He ran his free palm against your cheek and you leaned into his touch. “My hands are stained from murder, and yet you trust them completely. I am selfish to want you and cruel to take you into darkness with me. I am a demanding creature but I am your servant.”

He took off one of his rings and slipped it onto your finger. It was gold inlaid with sapphire jewels the color of his eyes in the shape of a laurel crest. “This will protect you from the sunlight once the transition is completed.” Taemin said, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles and over the ring. “Never take it off, promise me.”

“I promise.”

He brought his right hand to his mouth, his fangs elongated once more as they had when he’d feed on you and in one swift motion he pierced his wrist. His deep purple-red blood spilled like wine across the sheets. He took the blood into his mouth before bringing his lips to yours.

His blood scorched the walls of your throat and trickled at the corner of your mouth. It singed the skin of your heart till you felt so full of him that you didn’t know whose body belonged to whom anymore. It was a dizzying kind of love, hypnotic and consuming in its luster. Sometimes love is sweet, You thought. You were drunk on this emotion and the taste of him. He was under your skin, he was flowing through your veins.

He licked the blood that had dripped at the corner of your mouth clean and pulled away to look at you. “Until we meet again, love.” Taemin said, before placing a satin covered pillow over your face.

Sometimes love is brutally soft. You thought as you lost consciousness.

~ Epilogue ~

His scent tickles your nose and calls your limbs to arise from the ashes of your former self.

“Welcome to hell my queen.”

The voice in the darkness was sweet to hear. Your eyes open, light purple and full of lethal newborn lust for the blood of your sire, your soulmate, your king who smiles above you.

The impulse to feed is like a maelstrom consuming your senses. All you want is him, his blood, and his body against yours. He lays on the bed beside you and tilts his head in invitation.

You crawl towards him, straddling his hips and piercing your fangs to his throat eagerly. You nibble and mewl against his collarbone when his skin does not break beneath you. He laughs at your frustration and gently strokes your hair. He reaches for your chin, lifting it to eye level and brushing the pad of his fingers against your small fangs till the tiniest drops of blood fall and you lick his fingers clean.

“You're like a newborn kitten,” Taemin says in your mind. His voice inside your head sends a ripple of joy through your body. You'd thought you’d learned what true unity felt like but you’d never experienced this, an all-consuming warmth and wholeness. “Try again innocent one, this time tilt your head upwards as you elongate your fangs.”

Your desire to please him was almost as vigorous as your hunger. You moved to his neck again and did as he instructed.

“That’s my kitten,” he said. You beam under his praise as you quench your thirst. You find it’s not enough and you move to his lips instead. You kissed him like nightfall devouring the sun, an eclipse under a diamond sky. You were dangerous now you thought with glee as Taemin pulled you closer, closer towards the whisper of forever. And then you smiled when he said in your mind, When we align, will you or I be the moon? You bit his bottom lip and tugged it playfully in reply.

#taemin smut #taemin fanfic #taemin senarios #SHINee FanFic #taemin #lee taemin #want #vampire au #my writing #kpop fanfic #fanfiction #homme fatale #dentist au #shinee senarios

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belladonnaandulriched · 4 years ago

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the dead of night | chapter five

Scott's point of view

I watched Kristina return to her seat next to me with her long platinum blonde hair drifting behind her head. Her eyes scanned over me as if she was waiting for me to say something to her. She had a glimmer in her eyes like she had just witnessed something or other.

“What?” I asked her.

“Nothing.”

She shook her head, but I knew there was something on her mind, though. She had seen something back there near the bathrooms. Nancy followed suit into the seat across from her. I glanced over at Geddy, who shrugged his shoulders at me. There was a part of me that wanted to touch and run my hands down the smoothest parts of his hair, right on top of his head.

To think that Frankie and I were alone with him for a little bit. It was just a few minutes but it was enough for the both of us to forget about everything for a little bit.

I turned back to Kristina, who showed me a grin, the first time I had seen her grin in forever and a day.

“You saw something back there, didn't you,” Frankie teased her.

“Maybe.”

Nancy slid back into the seat next to Geddy with a warm blush upon her face. From behind those glasses, I noticed a baffled look in his eye.

“What?” she asked him.

“Is everything alright?” he asked her.

“Yeah.”

“You sure? Your face is flushed and you're breathing hard.”

Joey and Hannah breezed back into the room right then: he had a smirk on his face while she smelled of strawberries and her face was bright pink like a single strawberry.

“What the hell is going here,” I demanded.

“It's not what it looks like,” Hannah assured me.

“I'm pretty sure it is,” I teased her.

“It's not,” Joey joined in, still with a smirk on his face.

“It's NOT, you mean,” I teased him with a wag of my finger, and I couldn't resist the smirk on my face, either.

“Yeah, it's NOT. A big ol' thick NOT.”

“It's a big ol' thick 'not' like your dick,” Hannah murmured as she brought her cup of coffee to her lips.

“Not here!” Joey scoffed in a hushed voice.

I cleared my throat and returned to Geddy.

“So what we were talkin' about earlier?” I asked him in a loud voice.

“Oh, you mean going up to retrace dear Francine's steps?” he asked me back, also in a loud voice.

“Yeah...” I turned my head to Joey and Hannah, both of whom had picked up their cups of coffee for drinks on their parts.

“Which means we'll have to head on up to Rochester,” Frankie followed along; his expression turned solemn right then.

“Rochester and then to 'Swaygo and Syracuse,” Joey filled in right then as he held his coffee cup before his chest.

“Seems like a lot,” Kristina remarked.

“We've been around a lot of places upstate and here in the City,” Hannah pointed out. “I'm sure the cops have the City covered, though.”

“And then?” Nancy asked.

“And then?” Hannah echoed.

“We'll have to go up to Toronto then,” Geddy suggested.

“We'll have to,” Hannah pointed out. “There's no other way otherwise.”

Geddy raised his glass such that the overhead lights hit the dark cola in the glass to make it look bright red.

“To Francine,” he declared.

“To Francine,” the each of us followed suit, and we took a drink in unison. It seemed like a lot but we each had come to this point in time for a reason. For me, it was to reconnect with Kristina in the time she had left. I had to make it right before she tied the noose around her neck in the next decade.

“I caught Joey and Hannah making out in the bathroom,” Nancy blurted out, to which Frankie almost gagged on his drink.

“Nancy!” Geddy scoffed.

“What? I did! Kristina did, too.”

“I was just going to use the ladies' room,” Kristina filled in, “I didn't even see them 'til I was washing my hands and Hannah was making little whimpery noises.”

“Gonna need some water over here!” Joey called out to the waitress.

After our bite to eat, we all filed out into the cold afternoon. I huddled closer to Kristina and that big guitar case on her back. It almost seemed unnecessary to be near her, especially since we were all here to seek out Francine. And yet, Frankie and I came back to reconnect. Reconnect before the sands in the hourglass ran out.

“So where do you hope you'll record at?” I asked her over the rush of the cold winds.

“Electric Lady of course,” she answered: even though it was overcast, the daylight shone over that crown of blonde hair to make it appear as though it was made of silver. Bright head of silver with smokey dark eyes. She adjusted the strap on her shoulder to make the case stay on her back.

“I hope I can find an opening soon,” I told her. “And I hope we can find an opening to listen in, too. I'd love to listen to you record a record.”

I returned to Nancy and Geddy, both of whom were huddled close together against the winds.

“I hope the Mounties don't stop us when we're up there,” she confessed to him.

“They won't, my dear,” he vowed to her. “As long as you have proof and you have a way into there, you can traverse about all over the place.”

“We've got an actual Canadian with us, too,” I joined in.

“You've got a Canadian with you, too!” he said with a tone of glee.

“We'll stop by that li'l upholstery place, too,” Joey pointed out. “Say how ya doin' to Marcia and Sonia and see if they can give us some clothes if we wanna.”

“You just want to see Hannah try on some clothes,” Kristina cracked.

“Well, I won't deny it,” he said with a shrug and a tucking of his hands into his coat pockets. He then peered up to the sky overhead. I followed his gaze to a series of drones, pitch dark against the light gray sky. Even from far down below, I could make out the sight of the green and blue neon on their undersides.

I turned my head to Kristina, as she set her guitar case on the sidewalk. She opened the case and took out her guitar, a bright cherry red acoustic with a narrow black neck and a white star painted on the end of the body.

“Beauty!” Geddy declared.

“I named her Cherise,” Kristina said with a twinkle in her eye. She held her hand over the strings and strummed with her thumb and her index finger. It took me a second to realize what she was playing, to which the memory came flooding back to me.

“'Planet Caravan,'” I said, and I couldn't help but smirk.

“We're just missing some snow,” she replied with a raise of her eyebrow. She never actually broke out into singing but she did play that hypnotic riff that haunted me since I was a kid.

The perfect song to go finding a girl missing in Canada to no less.

I peered up at the drones in the sky again, and then I caught sight of a smooth white humanlike head near the top of the apartment building. I was wondering where all the humans here had disappeared to, because aside from the waitress, the few patrons, and the line cook there in the cafe, the city streets seemed far more deserted than ever before. It almost felt like a dream to be on an otherwise crowded city street, only to find everyone had all but vanished.

As Kristina let the music drift over the street and the sidewalk, I glanced down the street to a few more drones appearing out from behind the apartment complexes.

“Makes me wish we had Lars and his little radar detector again,” Joey muttered under his breath.

“I really hope she's alright,” Frankie whispered to me.

“We'll find her, man,” I promised him, even though I had no idea as to where to look from that point onward. “I have hope that we will.”

All I knew was we had to find our way out of that part of the city and get on upstate. But then there was Kristina, who continued to strum and play to that familiar song. I missed Pearl but there was something about her I had missed. She was the first girl I ever fell in love with and then much like Joey and Hannah, we were separated by circumstance.

It was now or never at that point. Balance out finding Francine with reconnecting with Kristina.

“Where do you live now?” I asked her. She kept strumming but she looked at me with raised eyebrows.

“Boston,” she replied.

“All the way over in beautiful Bahstahn,” Frankie cracked.

“Bahstahn, exactly!” Kristina laughed. “It's a little out of the way, though, if you guys wanna come swing by at some point.”

“Makes me wish we had Lars and that arrowhead of his,” Joey spoke again.

“Wait a minute, don't you have that?” Hannah asked him.

“The arrowhead?” Joey hesitated for a second and then he patted down the front of his coat. He slipped one hand down into his right pocket and took out a stone arrowhead about the size of a silver dollar.

“Don't think there's a wormhole from Syracuse to Boston, but you can make one with this li'l thing here, Scott,” he explained. “Just—be really careful, though, 'cause ghosts and other scary ass things can go through 'em.”

“Ghosts?” Frankie sputtered.

“Ghosts, yeah.”

“How can I forget 'Vera',” Hannah grumbled.

“Forget Vera for a second, what about Mrs. Snow?” Joey recalled. “She tried to whack my dick off after she caught us in bed together.”

“I liked the old man, though,” she continued. “What was his name?”

“Mr. Lang. He gives me apples all the time.”

“There are also mutant banana slugs down in New Orleans and big ass spiders in both Syracuse and Rochester,” Nancy chimed in. “'Syracuse spiders' as Marcia and Sonia call them.”

“And water snakes and scorpions up on the Canadian side of the Great Lakes, too,” Geddy added.

“And all of those and more over in Seattle, too,” Nancy continued, “as poor Dominique will tell you...”

“You sure they're scorpions and not vinegaroons, Ged?” Hannah asked him.

“They're definitely scorpions. Great Lake Emperors, they're called. And yes, they are as every bit of terrifying as you can possibly imagine because unlike actual emperors, they're actually quite aggressive. I think there are vinegaroons up there but I haven't seen any. I don't think Alex and Neil have, either.”

What a world I came into! I turned back to Kristina as Joey dropped the arrowhead into my palm.

“You better not have weird creatures over in Boston,” I told her.

“Giant seabirds, but otherwise, not really.”

“How giant are we talkin'?”

“Giant enough to take a whole loaf of bread from you, but they're not like—giant aggressive scorpions, though. They're quite lovely, actually.” She continued to strum her guitar, to which I took another look up to the drones in the sky. The green and blue neon waxed and waned with the gray clouds overhead, and I wondered if there were any more around there. I didn't want to leave Kristina there in the City by her lonesome, especially since I had no idea where she even parked.

“So, shall we get a move on, eh?” I suggested in a slight fake Canadian accent.

“Get a move on, eh,” Geddy scoffed with a smirk. “Take off, ya hoser.”

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bangtansbun · 5 years ago

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Mr. Rochester || Look At You

Pairing: college student!seokjin x college student!reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 1,356

Warnings: making out, groping, oral sex (f.receiving), cum eating (kind of?), fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it up my dudes), slight praise kink, creampie, clit stimulation, dirty talk

Jin pulls you into his room by your hand, again, it’s much more tidy than you had imagined. Dark linens and sleek features fill out his room. You’re at his bed now and he has the back of your knees touching the edge of his bed as he bends to kiss you deeply. One of his hands goes to the back of your neck, pulling you closer into him to deepen the kiss even further. You have your hands running through his silky soft hair. He takes your bottom lip in between his teeth and pulls back slightly before releasing it. He groans and looks over you, “god I want you so bad.” You giggle at this and he gently pushes you back down onto the bed. You scoot back to allow room for him too.

He’s over you again but this time he’s sure to press his hardness against you as you kiss. You gasp at the feeling of it, much larger than you had anticipated. He again begins to kiss his way down your body, this time taking your bra off so he can fully have his way with your breasts. He gives each nipple the individual attention they need. Twirling his tongue around each and nipping at them only enough to bring about slight pain mixed with pleasure. You hiss through your teeth at the feeling and he looks up at you with a smirk on his face. He starts planting kisses in a trail down your stomach until he’s just above the waistband of your skirt. He slides the skirt down off of you slowly and takes in the matching cream lace panties you have on, “I was right, they do match” he says as a smile plays on his lips.

The feeling of nervousness comes back again as you realize how exposed you are to someone you practically just met. He can sense this, “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” he says as he plants a sweet kiss on the inside of your ankle. “No, I want to,” you say shyly. He gently spreads your legs apart and places a light kiss on your panty-covered core. He begins licking stripes along your heat and your moans are starting to get heavier, but it’s not enough. You need more. “Please, I need to feel you,” you say breathlessly. Jin smirks and hooks his fingers into the top of your panties and pulls them off of you slowly. Each of his moves done with deliberate intention. He places kisses to the inside of each of your thighs before placing his lush lips on your heat.

You’re no stranger to sex, but nothing has ever felt as good as this. He’s licking long stripes up from your slit to your clit and then taking the sensitive bud into his mouth. Flicking his tongue over it, effectively making you moan his name. He likes hearing you say his name, all breathless, so he continues the attack on your clit as he takes his fingers up to your slit, swiping his fingers through your wetness. He groans and throws his head back, “oh my god, you’re so wet already baby.” He then inserts two of his fingers as he goes back to swirling his tongue around your clit. “Ughhh, fuck, Jin” you moan. He continues pumping his fingers in and out of you, the stretch feeling so good, but again you’re wanting more. “Please fuck me, I wanna feel you” you say through staggered breaths. “Not yet, I want you to finish first. I don’t think you’re ready to take me yet” and with that he inserts a third finger into you, stretching you further. The feeling of his tongue on you and his fingers sliding in and out is beginning to cause a heavy pull inside of you. He starts to pump faster as he continues his assault on your now very sensitive nub. It’s all beginning to be a bit much for you, “fuck fuck fuckkkk” is all you can mutter. “Come on baby, I need you to cum for me so I can fuck you.” With this you feel your strings snap, sending you into a spiral of ecstasy. “Shit, Jin” is all you can say as the room fills with your moans. He continues to help you through your orgasm and when it’s finally over he climbs over you, your wetness glistening on his lips, and he puts his fingers in your mouth. You suck your juices from his fingers clean, “you taste so good, don’t you?” He asks this with a smirk on his face. When he pulls them away, he brings them back down to your slit, teasing you. “Are you on the pill by any chance?” You nod yes and a darkness fills his eyes. “Flip over for me baby,” you do as he asks and he pulls his shirt and jeans off of him in quick, deft movements.

Next thing you know, he’s rubbing his dick between your folds before he enters you. His length surprising you and the thickness of it causing you to feel deliciously full. You gasp at the feeling of him inside of you and he allows you to adjust to his size. He plants kisses along your back and is rubbing at the plush skin of your cheeks. “You have the nicest ass I’ve ever seen,” he says as his grip hardens on it. “P-please move, Jin” you whimper to him as he begins to pull back slowly. He starts off at a low tempo, as he continues to knead your ass and brush his hands up and down your thighs. He’s taking in your body as much as he can. “God, look at you, I can’t believe this is happening right now.” His praises cause your body to hum with pleasure and you start to move back against him as he’s thrusting into you. You moving in time with him feels too good, causing him to start to move faster now, “J-jin, ughhh, k-keeping going, pleaseee” you whine out. He falls into a fast and hard pace, a firm grip on your ass as he fucks into you. “My name sounds so good coming out of your mouth while I’m inside you. I need you to cum for me, say my name while you cum all over my cock. You sound so sweet.” The way he praises you causes your insides to squeeze around him as you moan at his words. “Fuck baby, you’re tight” he moves one of his hands to rub your clit, immediately sending you over the edge and into your orgasm. “Jin- oh fuckkkk,” you moan out to him as he fucks you through your high. The sound of his name leaving your lips causes him to spill into you. “Shit,” he says through gritted teeth, pumping every last drop of himself into you before pulling out. You both lay there for a second, completely out of breath and fucked out. After a couple minutes pass by, he sits up and comes back from his bathroom with a damp washcloth. He hands it to you to clean yourself up with and goes to grab all of your clothes so you both can get dressed.

As he hands you your clothes after putting his own on, he sits down next to you on the bed. “So please tell me I can take you out to dinner this weekend.” You look at him with a shy grin on your face, red coming to your cheeks as you think about what just happened. “That’d be great,” your last shoe being placed on your foot. “I can drive you back to your place now if you want? It’ll give me a chance to see where you live so I can pick you up on Saturday night.” How does he keep up his charm, even after what just happened? You laugh at this and nod in agreement. Once he drops you off at your place and you wave your goodbyes, you immediately go to call Bora. Advice needed pronto.

taglist: @seokjinnieismine

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mercurygray · 4 years ago

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Soft Saturday! Cuddles where one accidently hurts the other, and they fall over themselves apologising while the other laughs pulling them into a hug for Marj and Allen?

It was a less than ideal apartment.

There wasn't a whole lot going as far as the housing market in Rochester was concerned, what with building at a standstill during the war and a veritable flood of returning servicemen with new wives and big dreams about raising families just about tapping out what was available for sale.

So Mr and Mrs. Allen Michaelson were making do in a small, one room apartment with leaky faucets, an overenthusiastic radiator, and the smallest galley kitchen known to man.

Marjorie looked up from the carrots she was chopping for dinner as she heard the front door, the sound of keys clinking into the dish and Allen's bag being propped against the hall stand.

"And just how is my beautiful wife today?" Allen asked, unbuttoning his jacket and leaning over her shoulder to kiss her on the cheek.

"Just fine," Marjorie responded, carefully setting down the knife so she could turn around to have a conversation. "How was work?"

"Budget season waits for no man," Allen replied, wrapping his arms around her waist and gathering her in for another, longer kiss. "And you are much prettier than a balance sheet."

Marjorie took both the compliment and the kiss, a little surprised by the intensity of Allen's interest. This wasn't a simple welcome home kiss, but seemed to be building into something more, something that was pushing her along the kitchen counter, and snagging her apron on a cabinet door - and then, just as she was seriously considering where this was going, she turned and clipped the back of her elbow on the fridge, moaning in pain and breaking away while Allen, realizing what he'd done, took a step back in horror, nearly tripping over the kitchen chairs.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry, Marj."

"It's just my funnybone, Al, I didn't break my arm." She stopped rubbing and looked up at him with a shy smile, pointing the elbow at him: "Can you kiss it and make it better?"

Allen, suitably chastised, gently lifted her arm to his lips. "Well, Mrs. Michaelson, I do believe I can."

"Now, you want to tell me what you're trying to hide?" She said. "The sergeant always knows."

Allen snorted at the joke, paused a moment, looking down at her elbow, at the too-small kitchen with the fridge that clipped the kitchen chairs every time you opened it, and looked back up with hope and joy in his eyes. "...I might have found us a house."

The noise she made his heart jump.

#i have written a thing #marjorie gordon #allen michaelson #1940s girl gang #soft saturday #thirsty thursday #mercurygraypresents

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pancakebutton · 5 years ago

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Teacher X Reader Part II

Summary: Your teacher is having a hard time keeping it together with you constantly on his mind. Teaching your class period is when it gets the worst, sometimes he has to step out of the room just to recompose himself. It’s beginning to be the same for you, even when you hang out with your new friends, he is always in the back of your mind. And one of your new friends wants to get a little too close for your teachers comfort.

Warnings: Foul Language

Word Count: 13,250

Genre: Romance, Slice of Life, Sexual, Series.

Pairing: Insert Teacher X Reader

Masterlist

Part One

God why the hell did she have to be so beautiful.

It had only been a week. One week is all it took for this girl to drive me insane! I pushed the stack of papers on my desk aside knowing there was no way I could get through them, especially now. I couldn’t help it anymore, this week’s pent-up special tension made my cock swell from the dirty thoughts I had for her. And that Matt kid is the worst of it, he’s been relentlessly flirting with (Y/n) every day up until now. I knew if it were my way, she’d be bent over my desk this second.

I stood from that very desk and gathered my things, I had to quickly get home, my body-no my cock ached to be touched. Right before I made it out the door to my truck a familiar voice stopped me.

“Hey (T/n)! Going home already? Finally got done with those quizzes huh?”

Madeline Crossland. Or Miss C for short, she’s the English teacher across the hallway from me and she has been driving me crazy since I’ve gotten here.

“Misses Crossland, ha, so nice to see you again. How’s the vocab card grading?”

“You’re avoiding my questions (T/Nickname), why in such a rush?”

“Just a little tired. Especially since I’m not used to getting up so early, it being by first year and all, also please don’t call me that Miss it’s not formal”.

She looked a little displeased at my last remark but I could honestly care less.

“Oh (T/Nickname) I thought we were friends? Well I could help you settle in with some dinner, how about that new place downtown?”

“I’m a little preoccupied at the moment Miss Crossland. Goodnight”.

I didn’t wait for a response as I pushed past the door and walked towards my beloved truck. But of course she followed, that’s just the type of person she is, however this time she wasn’t taking no for an answer. Madeline then ran in front of me and blocked me from walking away, “look (T/n) I’ll cut to the chase, I think you’re attractive and my type and I know you’re single so stop beating around the bush and just give me one night”.

I sighed, “I’m sorry Madeline, but I just don’t feel the same way. Plus, I’m not looking for a one night stand”. After that I pushed myself through her superficial barrier, got into my truck, and quickly drove off.

Ugh I hate whores like her who think they’re entitled to every man they look at just because they think they’re attractive.

This then only got my blood pumping again. My mind crept into the depths of my thoughts that held endless fantasies about (Y/n). Who was I kidding, she’s barely about to be eighteen and with a student to teacher relationship it would never work out. Maybe I should have taken up Madeline’s offer just to keep her off my mind.

Stupid (T/n) what are you thinking! I’m supposed to be the one she looks to for help not to fuck. Ugh, maybe just keeping to my thoughts and fantasies are what’s best and I shouldn’t act on them.

But damn did she not make that statement easy.

I scanned over my notecards one more time, double checking I knew every answer to every question.

Amendment eight; right to no cruel or unusual punishments, fifteen; right to vote, twenty-fifth; presidential disability and-

“I knew you were a good student Miss Maine, but I hope you don’t find my quizzes that hard”.

I look up to a smiling Mr. (T/C), amused at my pre-test study situation.

“Good morning (T/C), and no but I always doubt myself into thinking I don’t know anything. Also did you see Matthews’ goal last night? What beauty!”

Mr. (T/C) simply laughed that basically dunked my panties in a bucket of water every time.

“He’s the man Miss Maine I can tell you that eh.” He then clapped his hands, grabbing everyone’s attention.

“Alright class ready for that quiz?”

Everyone except me groaned in response.

That quiz was my first one-hundred percent and I felt as if I were floating on the moon when Mr. (T/C) beamed when he saw my score. It’s so hard not to think of him, at first I just thought he was a chill teacher and don’t get me wrong, he is, but I’ve slowly found more and more things enticing about him.

I wouldn’t call it stalking, I just so happened to be in the right place at the right moment. Like how when I was picking up my little sister from middle school, I saw him slowly pass me in the school zone in his shiny, gorgeous, white truck. So now I know where he parks. Or how Mr. Rielly, one of Mr. (T/C)’s close friends, was talking to my math teacher about how he so happens to be single. Small things.

Morgan is what snapped me out of thought.

“Hey (Y/n), the guys are gonna go out to Stella’s tonight, Al’s treatin’, it’ll be fun you should come. Kaitlyn offered to take everyone.”

“I guess why not, got nothin’ else to do.”

And so I was then rushed into a nice looking black SUV packed with my closest friends. We were only halfway through the semester as winter was coming close.

Music blared through the speakers and we all were basically screaming the lyrics.

“I KEEP IT JUICY JUICY, I EAT THAT LUNCH, SHE KEEP THAT BOOTY BOOTY, SHE KEEP THAT PLUMP!”

I couldn’t help but laugh, these people were the ones that truly made me happy and it was nice to have a night out. Luckily for passerby’s, we finally stopped screaming bloody murder as we had arrived at the sit-in restaurant.

We walked in as Allen and Matt began greeting people over the counter. Anyone could tell they were close friends with the owner, and managed to squeeze us in a good spot at the back where it was quieter. We sat down, ordered our food, got drinks, and began conversing amongst ourselves. Occasionally someone would say a joke to the whole group and we’d all laugh along, but I mostly talked to Mo and Matt.

“So Matts, when does high school hockey start here?”

“Oh here in a few weeks, I’m so excited to be back on the ice, you’ll come to my games right? You know hockey is better seen in person and not on your phone.”

“Oh haha, but yes I’ll gladly come watch the other teams whoop your ass Williams.”

“Puhlease (Y/L/N) you don’t even know how to play hockey.”

“But I sure as hell know how to watch it.”

He chuckled in an obviously flirtatious way. I could tell our little jabs at each other meant more than we were letting on. It was obvious he was flirting with me because he liked me, the problem? He’s sweet and totally handsome, it’s just he seems more like a brother than a boyfriend. I just hope he doesn’t think I’m leading him on.

I take a bite into my burger and look up to see Mr. (T/C) with a drink in hand by the bar with a few of his buddies. They were watching the Leafs play the Jets and I caught a glimpse of his eyes quickly dart away from our direction. I nearly choked on a piece of hamburger at the site. There stood Mr. (T/C) in all his glory, after teasing me about every loss my team had faced, here he was in a Maple Leafs Jersey.

Honestly it was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen him wear, and I love a man in uniform. He looked back over, this time directly at me, and I smirked in such utter cockiness I could have been a Bruins fan. He smiled meekly and pointed down at his jersey that just fit him so well. I could tell he was laughing and turned around, there on the back was the name ‘Matthews’ and it really did surprise me.

That’s why he likes me so much.

I smiled to myself at the memory that I would keep in my mind forever. I smiled through our meal, our way back home, and when I got in bed, gently falling asleep.

The next morning when Mr. (T/C) greeted me at the door, the first words out of my mouth were:

“Did you see Matthews’ hat trick last night? I bet you loved that.”

“And I bet there is no way they are winning against Tampa tonight.”

“What’s the prize?”

“Whatever you want.”

“What if we spiced the assembly’s up a little bit?”

I was sitting next to Allen in our leadership class, we were basically the ones who organized all school social events like homecoming, prom, dances, candy grams, bake sales, rose giving, that sort of thing. One of our newest projects was to help the principal with the assembly’s and he wanted more involvement from the students.

So who better to go to? Me and Allen were basically the brightest social lites in the room. Allen with basically half the entire school on his snap, mostly girls to fuck, but still people. To others I was extroverted, loud, fun to be around, but only my closest friends knew I was really the exact opposite. So who better to lead it?

“I would like to volunteer myself to lead the assembly Mrs. Schroeder, I have some friends who would love to help out too and I have a lot of ideas for the assembly.”

“Well let’s hear em Williams.”

The day of the assembly quickly came as the obnoxiously large gym and risers were filled with hundreds of students of all ages. After principal Dubois settled the room, he handed the microphone over to me and I’d do the rest, “give it up for Matthieu Williams!” The gym then was filled with applause as the lights dimmed, popular music boomed, and smoke machines and lights went off.

“Good morning Rochester High!”

A smattering applause followed.

“Thank you all for participating in our first spirit week here at our school, with freshman white.”

Part of the freshman class stood to cheer but cringely fell short.

“Sophomores red.”

The entire sophomore class boomed in comparison to their lower classmen.

“Juniors blue.”

The junior class rivaled the sophomores of course.

“And seniors red, white, and blue!”

And though the senior class was the smallest, they managed to out-do the other classes.

“Now at the end of the assembly we have asked our counselors to judge the classes spirit based on a point system that includes: the loudest, the most inclusion of color, the most participation, best cooperation, and bonus points that will be determined with smaller competitions lead by none other than the stunning (Y/n) (Y/L/N)!”

The entire gym exploded with cheers. I had briefly looked over at (Y/n) to see her smiling. Good.

“I’ll hand it over to her then.”

I handed the microphone to (Y/n) and her bubbly personality shone through her voice.

“Good morning Rockets!”

While the students applauded again, a spotlight slowly began to appear and move around.

“Now, our football team is about to head off to face our rivals today...the Skyview Hawks!”

A wave of boos followed as our mascot ran onto the gym floor followed by a student sloppily dressed as a hawk.

“Lets cheer on our mascot Rocket Richard as he beats Hathaway the Hawk like our football team will tonight!”

The “fight” had obviously been staged so Richard won but you could almost feel the excitement and adrenaline flowing throughout the room that only made us crazier. After the match more wrestling mats were rolled out along the gym floor.

“Now for our next event, I need your guys’ help. I need a boy and a girl from each class to come down to the center of the gym floor with me please!”

As expected, the most athletic and popular students from each class came down.

“We also have a fun surprise for ya, they weren’t told this, but I also need the following teachers and administrators to the center too! Mrs. Hansen, Mr. (T/C), Mr. McKinney, Miss Crossland, Mr. and Mrs. Sikes, Principal Dubois, and Vice Principal Mr. Ladel!”

This was Kaitlyn’s idea. A student versus teacher competition would most certainly rally everyone especially when you take the most popular teachers. The lights then came back on so everyone could see the set up we had.

“Now everyone will have a partner who helps them in this race. First, one person will start back here at the end of the court, run to the center, pick up a basketball and shoot it. After they make one shot they must run back where their partner will be in a sleeping bag and they will have to drag them down and back.

Then, they will be placed in front of those tables filled with delicious food and will have to eat all of it. They then go to their respected classes and take a selfie with them. And lastly they must be sitting in chairs that will be set in the middle, there are only twelve chairs so four people will be kicked out.”

The students then “oooo’d” in excitement. Then the teams lined up with their partners in sleeping bags behind them. I noticed Mr. (T/C) ready to go with his other senior teacher Mrs. Hansen behind him. Then a buzzer went off to start the race, and damn it was intense. At the end a teacher threw a student right before they sat on a chair, and the senior students came in first, but that wasn’t the end of the competition.

“Now for a fun game of musical chairs!”

Everyone laughed and cheered as the students and teachers walked around the chairs in a circle. When it was just Mr. (T/C) and a popular freshman left, Mr. (T/C) pulled the chair right under the kid and stole it from him. It was hilarious tons of people were bent over or on the ground laughing their asses off. I knew this would be great.

“Thank you all for participating and congratulations to the cheater Mr. (T/C), any words?”

“I did what I had to do.”

This made everyone laugh even harder if that was even possible.

“And now for the spirit competition results!”

A random counselor passed a paper over to (Y/n) and she opened it.

“...And the winners are...The Seniors!!!!!”

#teacher #teacher x student #teacher x reader

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eyreguide · 5 years ago

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A Detailed Book Review of Jane Eyre

My thoughts on the novel was originally posted in parts on the Bookish Whimsy blog for a readalong of Jane Eyre in 2013.

Chapter I - XI

Re-reading these first chapters I am struck by the fact that Charlotte Bronte started our introduction to Jane when Jane finally rebels against her bullying cousin John and the irrational hatred of Mrs. Reed. It’s a powerful representation of Jane’s character because although she becomes outwardly subdued and her passionate nature is restrained for much of the book later, it’s important to know that this is who Jane is, no matter the cultural conventions. As a child she’s not cute and cuddly and as an adult the “rugged points” in her character must be accepted by the people she allows to get close to her.

The other aspect I find so interesting is how quick Jane is to point out hypocrisy. I think I read somewhere that children excel at recognizing hypocrisy and what is and isn’t fair and while it’s pretty serious how unfair it is that Mrs. Reed shows such disdain for Jane and gives preferential treatment to her children, and how Mr. Brocklehurst is so intent on making the Lowood girls humble and plain yet his family lives in ostentatious luxury, Jane can put her statements about these circumstances in such a way that shows a very ironic and sly wit that I really enjoy. For instance:

- “Abbot, I think, gave me credit for being a sort of infantine Guy Fawkes.”

- “Breakfast was over, and none had breakfasted. Thanks being returned for what we had not got…”

- “Mr. Brocklehurst was here interrupted: three other visitors, ladies, now entered the room. They ought to have come a little sooner to have heard his lecture on dress, for they were splendidly attired in velvet, silk, and furs.”

It was great to read Jane grow into an adult - with her childhood memories sometimes tempered by the adult Jane who is telling the story so we can get that bit of humor and a little bit of perspective - like why she felt she was an outcast at Gateshead. Of course now that we are at Thornfield, there’s so much stuff to look forward to reading about!

Chapters XII-XXI

Oh Jane. I find your restlessness so endearing! When I was a teen, I would re-read those passages where Jane wishes to see more of life and “more vivid kinds of goodness” and really empathize with how she was feeling. I think this is one of Jane’s great monologues in this book, and I always find it funny how such deeply heartfelt thoughts are suddenly followed by Grace Poole and the strange laugh. It’s like those momentous thoughts of hers should be it’s own chapter!

Now Mr. Rochester! I just love him so. He acts so unconventionally with Jane from the beginning - and his sense of humor is so skewed! Cause it’s kinda mean how he didn’t introduce himself to Jane in Hay Lane. But Jane wasn’t even upset, so you know it’s true love! :D I love how Jane can barely follow and almost certainly doesn’t understand some of the things he talks about in their second conversation and yet she holds her own and comes up with great answers! The back and forth banter in those scenes between Jane and Rochester just remind me how much I love Charlotte’s writing because it’s intelligent with that touch of humor. And re-reading it I am again reminded how much I associate Michael Jayston’s voice and acting with Rochester now because I just hear and see him in this role completely! (I’m referring to the 1973 miniseries adaptation - my favorite!) Mr. Rochester is so talkative too, Charlotte makes it clear through Mr. Rochester’s words that he is falling in love with Jane, even if Jane is not so sure.

There’s really all kinds of moments in this section where I’m just gleeful every time there is an indication of Mr. Rochester’s interest in Jane. My favorite is the tantalizing “Good-night my–” Ahh, what was he going to say?? And then the whole scene after the fire in his bedroom is full of indications as well as the Gypsy scene, the scene in the garden after Mason’s attack and Jane asking for leave. These are all some of my absolute favorite parts of the book because this is the kind of romance I adore - the subtly indicated and gradual evolution of love. It’s just so beautifully done!

Chapters XXII-XXIX

The too short amount of time we get to see of Jane and Rochester’s courtship is one of the highlights of this book for me. So sweet and romantic on Mr. Rochester’s part and so sassy and teasing on Jane’s; I feel like this is a heightened idea of how Mr. Rochester and Jane’s conversations went towards the end of the three months they were getting to know each other in the beginning of the story. Where Jane was just beginning to realize her power of “vexing and soothing him by turns.” Their banter in these couple chapters just makes me smile!

But my favorite chapter in this book is chapter 27 - the one where Mr. Rochester talks to Jane after the interrupted wedding. The scene where Mr. Rochester’s secret is revealed is incredibly devastating, but in this chapter the emotional damage to this reader just gets worse. It starts with the fact that Jane believes Mr. Rochester didn’t really love her, to her realizing that he did and still does, but that doesn’t change the fact that she must leave him. And Mr. Rochester is deluding himself with a hope that he can keep Jane with him by promising to treat her as his only wife. It’s so tempting and Jane does love him, but she just can’t compromise her integrity and her moral beliefs and it’s an exquisitely painful dilemma. And even though Mr. Rochester has committed such a betrayal, I love that Jane forgives him almost instantly when she sees how remorseful he is and how much he still loves her. It’s such a big thing to forgive him for, but I completely understand it because Mr. Rochester is a flawed character and he tried this because he was desperate to secure Jane. This is the time that Mr. Rochester is totally truthful as well (it is his only recourse now) and when he has no more secrets and no more games to play but is earnestly pleading, it’s so darn moving! And romantic! So much of both Jane and Rochester is revealed in this chapter and I think that’s why I find it so powerful.

Jane’s three days wandering is a part of the book that I didn’t used to appreciate as much - it really is distressing to read how Jane suffered and was almost ready to give up. But she clung to her dignity and to her moral convictions. As if it wasn’t enough that she had to turn her back on the love of her life, she also had to suffer starvation and mortification! But again everything just reinforces Jane’s strength of character and makes her a fabulous heroine to look up to.

This section has all the extreme ups and downs of the entire book! Though I don’t really think of it, it is pretty odd that Charlotte Bronte plotted this story to have such a climax in the middle, but I feel the last section of the book is a genius addition that really completes Jane’s journey.

Chapters XXX-End

St. John Rivers - the anti-Rochester. Re-reading this part of the book again, I focused on all the things that made St. John the complete opposite of Rochester. And there’s a lot. St. John is blonde and fair to Rochester’s black hair and dark features, tall and statuesque to middle height and square-ish, a minister and philanthropic and you know Mr. Rochester isn’t that concerned with religion and early on Jane points out that Rochester’s brow is deficient where it should indicate benevolence. St. John likes to read at mealtimes and study, while Mr. Rochester can’t stop talking to Jane, St. John is completely honest with Jane and Rochester is considerably less so. Both however are intelligent, and both study Jane’s character well and find something in her to attract them but Mr. Rochester sees Jane as his equal and really better than him, and St. John sees Jane as the diligent workhorse he’s always wanted.

That’s where I really have a problem with St. John. Sure he’s striving for good things, and wants to use his skills and intellect to make a difference and fulfill a duty to God, but with his dismissal of the individual needs of a person and then of a woman, it’s hard to feel very sympathetic with him. He continually puts reason above feeling and in doing so cannot understand the complete beauty of humanity. Of course for Jane, meeting him at this point in her life when passion has not resulted in happiness, it is great for Jane to see the other side. In this section Jane matures even more - she knows that she needs to be loved for herself and not what she can do. And she gets the family and financial independence to live free and contented on her own.

So she can return to Mr. Rochester as his true equal - she doesn’t have to worry about depending too much on Rochester’s wealth and connections because she has some of her own. But I think the transformation Mr. Rochester undergoes is the greater. He’s so broken when Jane comes back - humbled and accepting of his fate - and what breaks my heart is that while Jane was strong enough to soldier on without him, Mr. Rochester was not. It’s too romantic that Rochester needs Jane that much. And he’s not just humbled by the experience, but also accepts God and his past. Passion balanced with reason. Just like Jane. Now they can have their happily ever after. I’ve long thought Jane Eyre a study in that balance of passion and reason - Jane was too passionate at Gateshead but tempered at Lowood by Helen’s reason, then Jane is pushed towards an excess of passion at Thornfield and an excess of reason at Moor House, to finally find the middle ground with Mr. Rochester at Ferndean.

This book is just so extraordinary to me. It has so much depth and has resonated with me so strongly ever since I was a teen. I wonder what I would have thought of it if I had read it when I was older, but I’m so glad I had the chance to grow with this story because I’ve found so many different things to appreciate about it at different times in my life.

#Jane Eyre #Book Review #Charlotte Bronte

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peanutbutterisland-blog · 5 years ago

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Black Mafia - short story

Black Mafia- also in archives

This is a fictional story written by Owami Jackson. Leave all assumptions and expectations at the door, welcome to a world inhabited by a few and run by many.

Chapter 1- Welcome to the Mafia

It is said that a city is the representation of its people, the rougher the edges the more connected the people and non could be truer than the city of Fermount USA. It was a large industrial city, built on the backs of black Americans who had settled on the land after the emancipation act was introduced. The businesses were family owned and the community was forged together by hard labor and a deep engraved mantra for ‘fuck the man’ but this city was not backwards thinking at all, it was 1970 and the world was changing and so was the city of Fermount. Throughout 1970 to 1975 the city came alive, with buildings being erected everyday, and in time the city lit up with new opportunities, clubs, hotels, stadiums and restaurants grew over night like wild mushrooms and one family struck while the iron was hot.

With every building that was erected in Fermount the Washington family had their hands in its creation. A prominent black family that had its soul engraved in Fermount, the family was so big that they inhabited both the East and West of the city and within the inner city is where they flourished. They owned every club and large property within the inner city or at-least had their hands in it. They grew there money from organized crime in the early 60s and invested it in the city of Fermount, they had close affiliations to the Mayor and governor of Fermount and where respected and feared within the city. With such a large family there had to be a large patriarch and his name was Luis Washington or better known as Father. He was the head of the family and all operations of the family business. He was a large man who had a lot of love and was fierce when he needed too Be. With everything that he had built he was most proud of his family, his eldest son, Rahim Washington was the next in line for the family business and he loved him dearly, he had a second son Sammy Washington who was always eager to learn the business and had his fathers ferocious temper. He also had twin daughters who ran his heart, he was married to his wife Debra for over 34 years and she was the only person who could calm Freddy down, she ran everything associated with the families money, dirty or clean.

It was a night filled with excitement in the Washington family household, uncles filled the air with inappropriate chatter, drinks flowed faster than a cheap bar and all women whether old or young where in the kitchen. Rahim was in his room trying out different leather jackets and awkwardly pacing up and down the room, he was nervous and exited, he sat on the edge of his bed and waited for the call. 5 minutes later his dad knocked on his door and summoned him down stairs, he came down and everyone was waiting for him. He gave his mom and sisters a kiss and was greeted by stern handshakes by his uncles. All the males in the family got in their bus sized Cadillac's and drove in a concubine to the cities oldest cemetery in the outskirts of the city. The cemeteries silence was pierced by a loud ruckus of cars. Out came large bellied men with hard liquor in their hands all jolly which was a contrast to where they where at. They all circled around the largest tombstone in the cemetery, it was the tombstone of the first patriarch of the family, William Washington who started the family business and created a lineage of men who would do great things for the city. Rahim was brought to the front of the tombstone, he said his respects and drinks where spilled on the floor out of respect. His dad came forward with a knife, asked for Rahims right hand. Visibly nervous Rahim put out his hand. “Rahim as you do this you not only represent the family, you not only represent the great men who came before you, you not only pledge with blood your loyalty to the family, you do this for your kids and grand kids and kids after that so they can look back and learn about your bravery. This is the proudest day of my life, I am not a man of many words so I will just say God bless your journey and welcome to the mafia” his father cut his hand and Rahim let the blood drip onto his great great grandfathers tombstone, a loud cheer was heard and the family guns blasted the cold night sky, Rahim was now a member of the most notorious Mafia in the world.

Chapter 2- Family First

Autumn had come with all its orange splendor, the trees had ruffles of hazel and the roads where littered with leaves that had fallen to their death from skyscrapers of oak trees. The city of Fermount was cold all year round, even when seasons changed they really didn’t change and on this chilly day on a lonely road a black Cadillac cruised through the outskirts of the city, Rahim had just gotten his license but he had been driving cars ever since he turned 5. In the passenger seat was his best friend of almost 22 years Owen Rochester. Rahim and Owens mothers meet in the hospital while giving birth to them. They where in the same ward and development a keen friendship. Owens father was a drug addict who would hop in and out of his life. He had not seen him in about ten years and frankly he didn’t even care, Owen and his mother where considered apart of the Washington family and lived a street away from each other, birthdays, graduations, funerals and dinners where all spent together. Owen was a brother to Rahim and as much as he didn’t want to admit it Rahim saw him as a better brother to him than his own younger brother Sammy was.

“So how was the induction?” Asked Owen. “It was good” Rahim answered.

“Just good?”

“Yeah it was good what else do you want me too say”

“I don’t know you’ve been talking about this shit since you where ten years old I don’t know I’m expecting a bigger reaction than just good you know?”

“You know how dad is with this whole family shit”

“Negro I am family”

Silence held the air for a while, Unable to contain the excitement Rahim squeezed the rubber steering wheel and burst into a whole monologue about how the night went and how he was now apart of the family business. Owen knew he wouldn’t be able to keep it away from him, the family kept their business hidden from everyone including old friends but Rahim and Owens bond was so intact they shared everything together.

“So you really not doing this college thing huh?” Asked Owen.

“Don’t see how’d it help me when I’m already set you feel me?”

“I get you man, I’m not even tripping, guess I’ll have to get all this collage ass by myself “ Owen replied

“Now you know your ugly ass ain’t getting no ass”

They both laughed and talked about their love lives and how they want families in the future. They pulled into a field, everywhere you looked was just filled with green, sheep’s grazed robotically and farmers yoked bulls up and down the green sea, ploughing away harvest for the city. They drove even further into an abounded farm next to a hill, they got out the car and had a smoke

“Gets colder every time we come up here” Owen said

“Get me the fuck outta here I can’t even feel my balls” Rahim said.

“I don’t know man I’d move here” Owen said. Owen always wanted the simple life, he was never in any drama and barely had a temper. This was not to say he was not about to jump into the front lines of war if need but when it came down to it he saw himself retiring as a carpenter on a farm somewhere. Rahim had different prospects, his always been intrigued about how the world works, who had the most power and what that power could do.

“Let’s hurry up maybe if we drop 120 on the way back we’ll make it back in time for the game” Rahim said

“Isn’t Jacky Robinson on the field today?” Owen asked

“Yeap”

“That’s one bad brother, running a mud hole on all those white boys”

They both opened the doors of the back of the car, they grabbed two shovels, went to the trunk of the car, opened it up and a bloody naked man in tears was in the back. They got him out and proceeded to walk him to the top of the hill, when they got there they dug a deep enough hole to fit a man of his size in it, they removed the tape from his mouth and he started begging to be let go and ranted every prayer he could remember

“Please Rahim I’ve known you since you where a kid how can you do this to me”

“This is what happens when you steal from our clubs you fat fuck” Rahim replied

He continued to beg and plead till Owen kicked him into the hole they had dug

“Any last words old man” Owen asked

The man cried and started praying in mumbles and piss ran down his leg.

Rahim and Owen both unloaded shots from their guns, buried him and hit the road to make it back for the game.

Chapter 3- Cindy Jackson

Rahim knew how powerful his family was, every cop, jury and judge where in their pockets, every club was owned or invested by them, they had built schools and grocery stores in every part of the city and they had been apart of the rise of Fermounts industrial complex since its birth. Rahim was greeted with respected every he went whether it be clubs or coffee shops but he truly discovered the power his family held when his father asked him to tag along with him to the mayors office in the early hours of the morning. They both wore their best suits and where driven to the capital to meet the mayor. Mr Luis Washington had been dealing with the mayors of the city of Fermount ever since he was put in charge of the family business, this was nothing new to him. The mayor knew that the Washington family where involved in some illegal dealings but they kept a pampered hand on the family because of all the money they funded to the city. They got to the Mayors house in the upper scale of Fermount, it was where old money came to retire and still had a prestige to it, the Washington’s, as wealthy as they where, were still looked down upon by the upper echelon of white American liberals. Rahim sensed this when he was greeted by the mayors butler who almost seemed to refuse to give him a handshake, Rahim being the spiteful type, grabbed his hand, pulled his arm in and gave him a great big hug. The mayors house was big but not as big as the Washington’s, this alone showed the power dynamic between politics and the mafia. They where greeted by the mayor himself coming down a long flight of stairs, an elderly white man, with whisks of grey hair in a brown jersey, work pants and black shoes. Rahim stayed back and watched his father converse to the mayor about everything from family life to sports. His father introduced Rahim to the mayor, pleasantries where made with his wife and children and they all sat around the table and talked about the state of the city, later on into the evening the mayor asked Rahim and his father to join him in his office, he poured both men his prized aged whiskey and they toasted to prosperity and that the Bulldogs winning the state final.

“So Rahim your father tells me you’re apart of the family business now”

“Yessir”

“I thought you’d take a liking to politics”

“No sir, that’s way too gangster for me”

There was a slight silent stand still in the room until it was broken by the Mayors laughter.

“Listen boys we have ourselves a big problem here in the beautiful city of Fermount and we need your families help, our piping systems are beginning to rust out, now with what my team is telling me they will ride us out into late October 1980 but after that, the water will be contaminated by the rust and I don’t need to tell you how much of a mess that is, the government implements new piping every 5 years and basically swap the rusty shit underground with new rusty shit which is a waste of money for them, for us and most importantly for me”

“So what’s your proposal mayor?” Rahim asked

“I see we have a eager one here Lewi, anyways New Guinea has a large steel capital, and these mother fuckers pump out steal day and night, I was thinking you boys can go out there, gather up all that steal and bring it down here with all your connections to ports and what not, we will brand the steal tubes and chuck them underground, now because they are slightly cheaper, and I mean cheap cheap boys, we would be making a large amount of money when the government gives us the grant to put in new steel pipes for the city and even bigger money when we sell those pipes to buyers overseas which you boys have such good connections with”

“I see” Mr Luis said

“ So with all the risk that we will have to carry I’m assuming our cut will be slightly larger than yours and your partners?”

“Well I’ll have to speak to my partners about that My boy” the mayor said

Rahim had not heard anyone call his dad “a boy” and was expecting him to leap over the table and ring the mayors head till he choked out and ran out of oxygen but he knew his dad was calm and could separate business and disrespect.

They left the Mayors house at midnight and spoke about the meeting, Rahims dad told him that he would be responsible for this project and over see everything, this was the most responsibility his dad had ever given him and he did not want to let him down

3 months passed and the project was underway, Rahim, his best friend Owen and his little brother Sammy headed for New Guinea, the minute they hoped out the airport they where meet with the islands warm intense weather, nothing they had ever experienced in the cold old city of Fermount. For the past three weeks they would be delegating with the government of New Guinea and setting plans for the exporting of 67 thousand tons of steel pipes and tubing. In the day Rahim went from meeting to meeting making connections along the way and going to mines with Owen, his brother Sammy spent his time banging different prostitutes in his hotel room and going into the islands club scenes, in his mind he was there for a vacation since he felt that his father didn’t trust him with this project. Rahim and Sammy fought a lot almost on the verge of killing each other but they where family and there was nobody you could trust more than your family. On the 2nd week Rahim had had enough of the meetings and decided to go into the market to witness the vibrant culture of the island, Owen decided to stay in and only God knew where Sammy was, as he was in the fruit aisle he saw a girl with large frizzy dark hair. He walked closer and was meet with the most sculpted face of beauty he had ever seen, he offered to help her with her grocery bags. She refused at first but he persisted until she couldn’t fight anymore. As they walked to her car he asked what she was doing in New Guinea but she was dismissive of the question, when they got to the car she realized that some local criminals where trying to steel her hub caps, Rahim dropped the bag and chased after them, tripped one of the criminals and punched his face in, he was able to get away and Rahim ran back to check on the beautiful women he had left behind.

“Are you crazy you could’ve gotten hurt!” she yelled

Rahim smiled and said “So you where worried about me?”

She smiled and said

“My name is Cindy, Cindy Jackson thank you for your help”

“Nice to meet you Cindy Jackson my name is Rahim Washington”

“I’m sorry I was a bit dismissive back there I don’t really know anyone here so you know, always keep your guard up” she said

“I get that, by the tied hair bun and medical supplies I’m assuming you’re apart of the UNICEF relief aid here in beautiful New Guinea?”

She laughed and answered“yes, yes I am, and I’m assuming your some rich business man here for business purposes”

“You can say something like that, so when you’re not saving kids where do you like to have fun”

“Well I’m going to the beach party at about 7, I don’t know if you’ll be there”

“Trust me, anywhere you are I’ll always be there”

They meet later on that evening at the beach party and Rahim introduced him to Owen. They danced and drank the whole night, the next day they walked around the plaza together and talked about everything

“So I’m leaving next week and you’re pretty busy here so when will I see you again” Rahim asked

“I’m leaving in 5 weeks and going back to school in Texas”

“So we’ll meet in Texas then?”

“Wait you’d actually come to Texas just for lil old me”

“Ma’am where ever you go from this point on I will follow till death”

She gave him her address and phone number and after a successful first meeting in New Guinea the boys jumped onto a flight back to the cold embrace of the city of Fermount. 5 weeks passed and Rahim flew to Texas to meet Cindy, they meet at a cafè and before they could say anything Rahim kissed her infront of the whole café.

“Well that’s one hell of a first kiss Mr Washington”

“It thought we should skip the small talk you know?”

They spent the summer together switching from Texas and Fermount, they meet each others families and in the summer of 1978 Rahim proposed to Cindy in her hometown and they moved to Fermount to start their lives together.

Chapter 4- We own this town

Houston Texas is bigger than the church hats mothers and aunties wear every Sunday in this deeply cultural piece of America. Everything is designed to pull you in like a gravitational force, the word subtle is not known in Houston. The restaurants and diners have food that would feed a whole village, the roads are wider to make way for every 20 year olds pimped out Cadillac. The women are chiseled from Gods personal special chisel, never lacking frame or body, it’s as if They were designed just to be looked at. There are churches in every corner of the town and the sun bullies the sky 20 hours of the day. Rahim always found it weird that Cindy would come from such a bombastic state. She was timid and slender, she never said a lot and when she did her voice was softer than the rustling leaves in the fall but her eyes held all the attitude that the state came with. She could look at you for a second and draw your attention from a mile away, she had the most generous heart it was almost bigger than her frizzy dark hair. Rahim had fallen in love with her all over again when he saw her walk down the aisle. The wedding came with all the dramatics of a church charity function, flights where delayed, uncles came from each direction with tales of their conquest and hard bottles of liquor, The Washington family alone came with about 200 people, each flying down from Fermount or driving. Weddings, baptisms and funerals where compulsory for the family and this was no ordinary wedding, it was the wedding of the future Patriarch of the family. Fermount was too cold to have such a joyous celebration and whether Rahim liked it or not Cindy held all the power of where the wedding was gonna take place. It took 7 months of planning and all the money invested into it you would think they where building a new club but this had to be huge, the Washington’s believed that a man only gets married once. The wedding drew mayors, delegates, owners of banks in both Houston and Fermount, baseball players and mobsters from all around the country. It was a 3 day festival with enough alcohol to fill the Nile and enough food to feed two starving countries. After the wedding Cindy and Rahim headed to Fermount where a 8 room mansion was eating for them, bought of-course by the Washington’s, 3 cars and even a liltle puppy, life was blissful.

Winter had hit Fermount and it was colder than ever, the lake had frozen over, the trees where naked and everybody was inside. Not the mob though, trucks still moved city to city, clubs still operated and Rahim was busy delegating the implementation of putting in new metal tubes in the city. It was 3 years since Rahim stepped foot in New Guinea and it seemed like the project took years to get started but they where at the final stretch and money flooded in like well.. a flood. It was 7:30 in the evening and Rahim had just got back home. He shouted Cindys name and she answered, she was in the kitchen, Cindy was a genius in the kitchen. She spent her day working as a doctor in Fermounts top ranked private hospital and her nights going on romantic adventures with Rahim, He loved the fact that she was an all round working women. All the women he was used too including his mother had only been housewives. Rahim would get home, change, help Cindy in the kitchen and they would have diner and talk about the day and listen to records near the fire place with a glass of wine. Rahim was planning to do just that but as he was about to give Cindy a kiss he got a call, he went into the living room and picked up the telephone, it was his dad. His father never called unless it was something about business or family. Rahim knew it was important by the sound of his dads voice, he could always tell his dads mood by the sound of his voice and his dad was worried. He grabbed another leather jacket and leather gloves and jumped into his car. The house he grew up in was just a 15 minute drive. He got there in record time , kissed and hugged his mother and sisters, his brother was watching the reruns of the game, he was about to head out as well, they nodded at each other

“Where’s dad?”

“Where he always is”

Rahim went down to the office and found his dad in a dimly lit room smoking on a cigar.

“Hey pops”

“Hey, Rahim”

They gave each other a hug and took a seat

“How’s the wife?”

“You know still giving me orders”

Mr Washington laughed

“I’m waiting for my grandkids Rahim”

“I’m working on it dad”

“You better, I have a lot of spoiling to do before I leave this earth”

“You’ll be here for a long time old man”

They both took a sip of whiskey and with a heavy sigh Mr Washington reveled that his brother has been stealing from the family And selling critical information to the FBI.

“I can’t do it Rah, he’s my brother”

“Have you told anyone else”

“Only your mom knows”

“Fuck! His my uncle pops”

“I know”

“So you want me to off him”

“No! He’s family, he’s my brother, I’ll need you to take those brief cases, they have 500 thousand dollars, tell him to leave this city and never look back, he knows his family will be safe”

“I got you”

Rahim got in the car and decided to do it in the same night so he could get the weight off his shoulders, while driving to his uncles house he couldn’t believe that his uncle would do that, his own flesh and blood. He could see how broken his dad was, while Rahim went to deliver the news and brief cases to his uncle his dad went to the baptist church house, he always went at this time, he would just sit at the back of the church, say a little prayer and go back home, he believed he had done to many evil things to sit any closer. Rahim got to his uncles house greeted all his nephews and asked his uncle if they could take a drive around the block for some liquor cause he felt disrespectful coming into the house with nothing in his hands, he also didn’t want to tell him the news where anybody could get the chance of hearing. They went to the local liquor store, and when they came back into the car, before he could start the car he told him why he came to see him

“You dare accuse me of betraying the family you little shit stick”

“Dad sent me here Unc”

“Tell my fucking brother to come see me himself and not send his little fuck head of a son too send me a message”

“You broke him Unc, you broke us”

The car was silent until Rahims uncle asked

“So is that why you’re here with that briefcase, you want me to leave my family”

“We’ll give you time to say goodbye but you have to leave before the rest of the family hears about this”

“All the shit I did for this fucked up family and this is how you thank me! I gave my heart into this business, before you could even walk I was in the front lines of war and what do I get, FUCKING NOTHING! Your father does deals with presidents and what do I get nothing no appreciation no reward, I just want what’s mine”

A tear dropped from Rahim’s eye, he knew where this was heading,he knew that his Uncle was stubborn and this would end bad. His uncles voice turned raspy and he started crying

“I just wanted my share Rahim, I’m not going anywhere, I rather die than run away like a coward, they got the drop on us Rahim, you think all this fancy shit comes without a price, this car, your house our whole lives are built on the blood of our enemy’s, and I’m not going to go down without a fucking price, I need to go”

As he grabbed the door handle, Rahim held his shoulder and told him he can’t leave

“You think I’m gonna listen to you Rah”

His uncle took out his pistol and pointed it at Rahim

“Let me go Rah”

“Family first unc, family first”

With a quick motion, Rahim drew his gun and shot his uncle in the stomach, his mouth open in shock and tears coming down his face he drove back to his dads house, ran passed the living room and collapsed on the couch in tears, he told his dad what had happened and he burst out in tears. His mom came down and saw her son on the floor drenched in blood and her husband in tears and knew exactly what had happened. Rahim kept on saying he was sorry to his dad, his dad came back to his senses , asked Rahim where the body was and Rahim told him that he was in his trunk, he grabbed his jacket and his mom gave Rahim a kiss and told him it was all going to be okay, they drove to the local bar they owned, it was about to close and the owner, a close family friend was about to lock the door when Rahim and Mr Washington suddenly burst in, they told him the story and without hesitation he agreed to help, they layed his body next to the bar and staged it as a hit. Rahims dad told him to go back home and everything was going to be okay, he could not stop repeating the words “I’m sorry”. He drove back home and fell to his knees at the door, Cindy came down and helped into the shower, washed the blood from his body while Rahim told her what happened , she knew Rahims family was involved in the mob life but this was her first encounter with the seeds that the mob life had sworn, she grabbed his clothes and threw them in a fire and held Rahim the whole night.

As expected the next day the whole family was in awe when they heard the news, retribution had to be delivered, Mr Luis paid a hefty amount of money to another mob family to take responsibility for the hit and to sacrifice one of their men for retribution. For the next few months Rahim had nightmares and held a guilt that took over his days and nights. Cindy was there right by his side throughout the whole way. They decided to take a vacation to Rio and when they came back Rahim seemed to have left his guilt in the warm waters of Rio and came back ready for business

A new mayor had taken seat in Fermount and he had a no nonsense tolerance to crime. He worked with the government in stopping organized crime and had set out an investigation for the new metal pipes in Fermount. This was going to take a lot of money out of a lot of important peoples pockets and the family had no choice but to assassinate the mayor but they had two problems, if they did chose to assassinate the mayor they would start a war with the US government who was on their tale but for the latter part of the years has kept a distant leash on them, the family had the backing of men who only saw money so they could handle a war with the US government but the other problem was financial backing from banks, and even though they had investments in most of the cities banks, the government could stop all that cash flow. After numerous meetings with the family, delegates and dirty politicians they decided to go ahead with the plan. High investors decided to pay the family 20 million each as insurance that if the US did fledge out a war, their investment and money would stay intact, if the US didn’t start a war, which was unlikely, they would give back the money.

Mr Luis gave the job to his son Rahim. Rahim asked if he could take Owen and because Owen knew about the inner dealings of the family his dad agreed agreed, Rahims brother Sammy had left for Paris and did not tell any of his family members, atleast they knew where he was this time. Before he left for the job Rahims dad gave him a hug

“You know you get older everyday I see you Rah”

“Not as old as you old man”

They both smiled

“I wish your brother had as much love as you do for me”

“Don’t worry dad his just going through a phase”

“I guess so, Rahim never forget that we are not rich because money and jewels alone but we are rich because of knowledge, with the right information we can bring a country to its knees”

He gave him a kiss on his forehead which was weird cause he never showed any affection. He only gave kisses to his wife and daughters.

“Oh pops I have something to tell you, uhm I was gonna save it for the family dinner but..”

“Then save it for the family dinner Rah, we’ve got a job to do”

Rahim and Owen waited outside the country club where the mayor played golf from 2 to 3pm, after that he took a drive to the barbers spot to get a shave and catch up with his father who was the owner of the establishment, after his golfing session they followed him to the barbershop, they took out their ski masks from the glove compartment and AK47s from the trunk of Rahims car and walked towards the window of barber shop and let all rounds go, glass and bloody bodies where on the floor, Rahim walked into the barber shop, looked the mayor in the eyes while he was on the floor trying to clench his fathers body and shot him dead.

They came back home ready to tell the family of the successful mission only to find a large fleet of cars at the family home, Rahim ran into the house and found out his dad had collapsed from a heart attack and had died. Every man and women had tears in their eyes. Rahim had cried out all his tears for a day and knew he needed to be there for his family.

The funeral was the biggest the city had ever seen, bigger than the mayors funeral, the government was on the family’s tale closer than ever before but that had to wait for now, mobsters and gangsters from around the world came to the funeral. If felt as if the president of the United States was being laid to rest. Rahim delegated the whole funeral, every flower in the city was thrown into Mr Luis Washington’s grave, speeches from Delegates and diplomats from around the world pierced the cold air and food was served to feed the whole city. Throughout the whole funeral Cindy stood besides Rahim and his mother, he went to say a few words with his wife Cindy in his hands.

“Goodbye old man, we’ll meet each other again, and I can’t wait for you to meet your grandson, I love you”

A few days after the funeral, Rahim was brought into a room with all the males of the family, all the investors of the family and all the mobsters of the city, he was being inducted to being the new leader of the family and family business. He walked to the head of the family, raised his glass of whiskey and said

“To the family”.

Chapter 5- From Russia with love

It seems every hospital has the same cold air rushing through it, the same bland light blue textiles and blinding florescent lights. It’s a place designed for anxiety and for being uncomfortable, but the Fermount Saint Private hospital was in for a rude awakening. The Washington family flooded the entire top floor maternity ward With leather jackets, southern brute accents, wails from toddlers, chatter from Aunties and mothers and silent prayers from every grandmother that was there. Every doctor or nurse that walked by was harassed by endless questions that they had no jurisdiction answering. The walls swelled with belly carrying males with expensive clothes and pungent cigar aromas. The top ranked maternity ward in Fermount had now been turnt into the Washington family reunion. Rahim came bursting through the door with a face mask on, blue scrubs and gloves, after a second of silence Uncle Elijah finally asked

“Well boy, spill it”

“It’s a boy” Rahim answered.

Everybody in the ward cheered, mothers sang, and uncles shook hands as if they had broken a new millionaire dollar deal. Rahims mother walked towards him and kissed him on the check and said “Your father would be proud of you Rah” even Rahims brother Sammy came over to give him a handshake and a warm head nod.

It wasn’t minutes till the entire family trickled into Cindy’s hospital room to get a glance of the baby, mothers came in first, then Cindys family and some of Rahims uncles. Owen came in the room kissed Cindy on the forehead and gave his friend who he had grown up with and just watched turn into a dad a great ol hug. They decided to name the child after Rahims dad to honor his name.

The baby was greeted with a convoy of cars all hooting in tune, food was prepared as if it was a wedding or a great fest, in all sense of the matter, it was. After Mr Luis Washington’s death the family needed something new to celebrate, Rahim had taken over fully, only taking delegation from his mother, wife, Owen and Uncle Elijah Uncle Thomas who had guided Rahim into the big seat he had taken over. He had met all the big names he had only heard about in meetings and they all accepted him with warm arms, he knew that as long as he did a good job everyones pockets would be full. Since the government was behind their tail ever since the mayors death they had to operate all legal business only and lease or pause all illegal business but even that didn’t deter the government. They sent sanctions to every Washington owned asset , clubs, houses, cars, banks and new building projects. Rahim knew they couldn’t win a silent financial war. He knew at some point they would need aggression to either scare or hold of the government. So After 3 months of being home with Cindy and the baby. Rahim took Owen, Uncle Elijah and Thomas and his brother Sammy to Russia to negotiate a weapons deal Incase things went sour for the family. When they got there they wasted no time. The President of Russia invited them for dinner. The dining hall was full of deep colored tapestry and wild animal heads. After a dinner with jokes and impromptu Russian lessons they went to the president’s bunker to talk about why they where there. Russia was gearing up for a Cold War with the US and as far as they knew it, if the US could have a civil war it would be better for them but they needed assurance before striking an arms deal with the Washington family so they decided to give the Russians half of their crucial assets, mostly banks and government information they had acquired over the years.

More than ever the war was closer than it had ever been, the US had always had a vendetta with the Washington family and their power but now that envy would be put to the test and Rahim needed to make sure his family was safe, even if they lost.

Chapter 6- Cape of good fear

It is said that while the world sleeps, America watches it sleep. As soon as Rahim, Uncle Elijah and Thomas, Owen and Sammy set foot back on American soil, word had spread that the Washington family had made their way to Russia to negotiate an arms deal. This came to no surprise to Rahim because he knew that they where under immense pressure under the eyes of the government. In fact this is why he chose Russia. There are many countries that would agree to an arms deal but Russia was America’s biggest enemy and with the middle stages of the Cold War, it was bound to ruffle up some feathers. With this move Rahim put The Washington family in the four front of history. The US acted quick, by the end of the week it had already smeared the Washington family name in the press and used the only power it had, money and corruption. They seized all assists the Washington family had with ridiculous warrants and permits. Rahim knew that he was in the end game now. So he set up a meeting with the family delegates, elders and mob bosses from around the word. They all gathered in an underground bunker space in the towns baseball stadium that the Washington family had helped build a few years ago. As far as he knew it everyone’s house was already bugged so they needed somewhere neutral to congregate. The room was full of hazy grey smoke, the atmosphere of the room was heavy, all men in this room had something to loose and they all counted on Rahim to keep that. Rahim walked in the room with a butterscotch trench coat with black leather gloves and heavy winter boots. He took his seat and greeted all the men that where there.

“Gentlemen, as you know we don’t have enough time we need to strike with action, I am not here to waste your time and I am not here to cover my ass”

“Seems like your ass is blasted all over the newspaper every single day Rahim” one of the men shouted. Rahim wanted to respond disrespectfully, in fact he wanted to shoot the man right in-front of everybody but the man who made that jittery statement was the owner of the United States pharmaceutical industry. These men literally funded America and had ties to the mob. This was not a meeting with his drunk uncles or petty criminal bar meetings, every man in this room, with a flick of a button could shut down the United States and Rahim knew the stakes.

“I know that Mr Johnson, this is why we are here to fix that” Rahim him replied

“Now, the United States has a problem with the Washington family, and since you are all tied to the Washington family they have a problem with you. I am here to tell you that this will not end pretty gentlemen. Men will be lost and money will follow. Now my job is making sure that money is not taken out of your pockets, yes this will be a bloody war but it will be a war designed to look bigger than it is”

They whole room perched eagerly to hear Rahims proposition

“We will strike war with the US government, but we will use the backing and power of mother Russia, now if we sell this properly to the media it will seem as if a US family made ties with Russia and decided to take down the government. And since Americans love their country so much and hate Russia and black people it will polarize all the other shit that we are doing on the side, but with this I will need your full cooperation, you have my word that money will return to your pockets and Business will run as usual but I need the word and trust of every man in this room, to stand by this family as we have stood behind you all these years. We will strike as soon as we can so focus is directly on us, the family. Till then I will need you to freeze all assets so that nothing is traced back to you, now obviously we know the government has been following us for years and know who we work with but removing all traceable evidence will make them look like fucking loons when they make these accusations, there will be no hard proof. We will set up mini hot spots where they can catch us and have a field day in the media while they suck each other off, yes we will loose a considerable amount of money but that will give us enough time for the Russian Calvary to strong hold the US and ultimately make a deal with us”

“And you sure this will work?” A heavy built gentleman in the back asked

“Sir this is the only option we have to keep the United States alive”

To keep a low cover Rahim decided to take Cindy and the baby, Owen and his family, his mother and brother to Cape Town South African. He had a vacation home there and he wanted his family especially his wife to get out of the toxic environment that they had ended up in. Rahim took early walks in the open wine fields with an elderly farmer named Abè who was a family friend, his farm imported 80% of the wine in the United States.

“You know Mr Abè this place is so beautiful I wouldn’t mind living and dying here”

“Mr Washington if I may be frank with you, you will not die here”

“Why do you suppose that Mr Abè, do you think I’m not worthy to die in a beautiful place like this?”

“You are a soldier, your daddy was a soldier and his papa before that, ever since I’ve known your family all the men have died in cold places. This is not because you are not worthy, it is because you are a soldier! You make way for your family to live and die in paradise, this is your calling. You where forged in fire It is a thankless job and an even bitter death but I believe if you where to chose to die in paradise or die in the field of war for your family, you would ask me where the battle field was”

“The battlefield is looking clearer to me every day Mr Abè”

“I know Mr Washington, I know”

Chapter 7- The world needs you Mr Washington.

Rahim had cleansed himself of the guilt of going to war for his family in Cape Town and had come back to American with a clear mind and even clearer intentions. If this was going to be the families time to be introduced into the world, it would be a monumental introduction. When he got back home he received a phone call, he picked it up and it was the one and only, President of the United States. He invited Rahim to the a White House for a meeting. Rahim didn’t know what to say. He knew he was in the big leagues but he didn’t know he would be speaking to the leader of the free world in person. He told his family and they where worried that it was a set up but Rahim knew that if they wanted to make a hit they would have done it already. Later that week he went to his fathers grave with Owen, he stayed in the car as Rahim went to speak to his dad

“Hey pops, I know it’s been a while. Just needed the courage to come see you again. Anyway, the family is doing good. Your brothers are crazy as usual, ready to die on the sword for the family, mom is doing better. She’s worried about everyone but herself, if you can just let her know that she’s doing the best she can. We have a war in our hands pops. All the greedy men who took opportunities from our people not so long ago are afraid of us now, we have a meeting with the President of the Fucking United States. Look I know things are not gonna end up pretty but I wanted to let you know that everywhere I go I hold the family name high. You’ve done such a good job pops. Thank you, I ask that you guide me as I enter unknown territory. I love you”

The next day Rahim took a private plane to Washington DC to meet the President. He walked into the White House and knew they where in too deep, but he was the first Black man from Fermount to step foot in the White House. He was greeted by the President who had a huge smile when he saw him, it wasn’t warm, he had been around enough gangsters to know when a person wants something from you. They entered the office and began making small talk, after a few minutes the President looked at him and said

“You’re not scared are you?”

“Excuse me?” Rahim asked

“I came into this meeting thinking that you’d see how deep in the water you’ve swam into and would want to forfeit or break a deal but you want this don’t you?”

“Mr President, this is deeper than me, many men before me where stripped of opportunities, land, names and basic human dignity, to build this beautiful country and for me to throw that away now, when we’re at the last quarter would be a shame”

“It is a beautiful country isn’t it Mr Washington? we wouldn’t want the beautiful people in it to worry about it now would we?”

“I said it was a beautiful country, nothing bout its people”

“Be that as it may, you know we have enemies that would like to see this country fall and rumor around the farm is that you’re ur in cahoots with those evil people Mr Washington”

“Well that depends, where are the rumors coming from Mr President?”

“The chickens are clucking Mr Washington, now this is simple we can go ahead with this in which I guarantee we will win and not only win but make an example out of you and your family or you can relinquish all “power” you have, I give you 2 days to say bye to your family and lock you up for the remainder of your days, and the way I see it, you don’t have that much left”

“Well Mr President I suggest you strap your boots up, it’s about to be a cold winter”.

Rahim came back home took a hot bath, went into his sons play room where Cindy was playing with him. He kneeled down and hugged Them both, Cindy grabbed his head slouched on the floor with him and kissed him, she didn’t need to know how the meeting went. She knew the time had come.

Chapter 8- Too much Power

It was weirdly calm in the Washington household. Mrs Debra was handing out sweets to the kid’s running up and down the house, the wives where gossiping about what they thought was going to happen in the kitchen, and the men of the family where outside the yard around the fire. Rahim came in the house late with Cindy and their son, he had stopped to get more liquor and presents for his mom.

“Sammy can you help Owen with the shit in the car, his outside”

Rahim proceeded to hug and kiss everyone in the kitchen, the living room, the dining room and finally the fireplace. When the food was ready Mrs Debra called everyone in the dining room, Rahim was put at the head of the table. There was so much food it felt like it would fall off the table, when everyone had stuffed food to the rim of their plate Rahim stood up with his whiskey glass to make a toast.

“Family, we’ve Always stood firm against the storm of evil souls that have tried to destroy this family, as I look at you I see the generations that our ancestors helped build, look at us, beautiful as can be, intelligent as can be, wealthy as can be. And all this came with hard work, from each and everyone of you. I just wanted to thank you. For being what you where meant to be, Beautiful, well except for Sammy...I’m just joking”

The rest of the night was filled with laughter and reminiscent chatter, photo albums where open, Motown jams serenaded the atmosphere and children danced for hundred dollar bills. The next day Rahim took Cindy to the hair salon uptown.

“Ayt baby I’m just swinging to the hardware store for the drill and I’ll pick you up in an hour”

“See you soon Mr Washington”

They kissed and Rahim was off to the hardware store, he decided to spend an extra twenty minutes just glancing at things he was not going to buy, this was better than chatting about future baby plans with the ladies of Cindy’s salon. As he turned the corner into the road the salon was in he saw Cindy already outside talking to one of the shop vendors. He also saw a black car across the road from Cindy opening its windows. A silver pistol poked out the window and fired 7 shots, Cindy fell to the floor, opened her bag and fired 3 shots herself. Rahim sped his car but the the car sped across the intersection and had left a trail of cars jumping into the wrong lane. Rahim quickly came out of his car and ran to Where Cindy was. His heart felt like it would beat a hole out of his chest, tears already streamed down his face, he fell to the floor next to her.

“Baby are you okay! Are you hurt! Where did they get you!”

“I’m okay I’m okay”

Rahim helped her up and patted her body like a mad man to check for blood but she was okay. They rushed quickly into the car and sped to get home. Cindy rushed into the house and hugged her son and Rahim held them both. Later that afternoon Rahim sat by the fire with a glass of whiskey and a cigar. He knew that the government would attack but this was sloppy of them, they wouldn’t do it like this and even if they did want to send a message it would be more direct. He figured that one of the mobs had sold out. His head kept on seeing the silver gun that popped out the window of the car. The more he thought about it the more it came to him that he had seen that gun, numerous times, in fact his seen that gun ever since he was 17. He rushed up to his room, put on his trench coat and jumped into his car, he sped to Owens house and told him what had happened, Owen grabbed his gun and jumped in the car with Rahim, they drove to Sammy’s house, Sammy saw Rahim’s car and ran straight into the garage into his car. He backed up the drive way and before he could make a turn to speed off Rahim’s car rammed into his door pushing it against the wall. When the smoke cleared Rahim pulled Sammy out of the car and into his trunk, they drove to the harbor and dumped Sammy into an empty space used for wrecked boat parts and broken cargo containers. Owen stood behind Sammy pointing a gun at him and Rahim took a chair and sat infront of him.

“Now I know you’re a stupid mother fucker but this stupid Sammy, this fucking stupid! You’d turn your back against the family? Huh!”

“What fucking family Rah? Ever since I was born I’ve been pushed out of this family”

“Shut the fuck up, you chose to do that Sammy, not anyone of us. it was you, you play this wounded dog act to gain sympathy and even when you do get the sympathy you grovel for it’s still never enough”

“Fuck you Rah”

“My wife Sammy, you where the best man in my wedding man”

“I don’t give a fuck about you Rah, your little make shift brother here Owen, this family or that bitch you call a wife”

“You know, as I was driving here I thought of ways of killing you and to be honest, I didn’t have any, I realized I ran out of em, ever since we where young I’ve thought about killing you and I realized I’ve finally ran out of ideas cause I ran through them all, so I’m not gonna kill you Sammy. You’re still my brother. What you gonna do now is hop into that boat, it’s gonna take you to county island where you will hop into an aero plane that will fly you to Spain, to the worlds top ranked disability and injured rehabilitation center where you will spend out the rest of your miserable life, you’ll call mom every week and tell her nothing of what you did or what happened, tell her you couldn’t stand being in the family anymore or whatever pitiful shit you can muster up your ass this time”

“Why the fuck would I go to a disability center in fucking Spain”

“Because Sammy, when we’re done with you, you’d wish that we killed you”

Owen grabbed a chain saw and gave it to Rahim, Owen then singled three men into the room and they rolled a table into the center of room. They pinned a screaming Sammy onto the table.

“So I cut right into the born doc?” Rahim asked one of the men

“Yeap, he’ll feel everything we just have to make sure he doesn’t bleed out and stays conscious”

Sammy cried and pleaded with Rahim, he screamed for help but only heard his own echo and the motor of the chain saw, Rahim cut Into the flesh of Sammy’s legs, blood splattered in every direction, Sammy’s cries could be heard from the end of the world, Rahim slashed and cut both Sammy’s legs, he put down the chain saw, looked at the agony on his brothers face, looked backed at the chain saw and asked the doctor

“Can we cut his hands aswell?”

Sammy, leg less and armless was then put into a boat with medical equipment to keep him alive. Rahim had taken the one thing that Sammy used his whole life, his freedom and without that he was good as dead. as the boat disappeared into the dark blue waters Rahim gazed on it with tears in his eyes, and a pool of blood drenched on his body. Owen put his hand on Rahims shoulders and said

“It’s time to go home man”

The US governments had sent their first shot and used Rahims own flesh and blood. He knew that they would play dirty but this was a hit he was not expecting. He gathered up all his family members and sent them into different parts of the world, the Washington family had friends in every part of the world, they also had money invested in every part of the world so it wasn’t hard to pack everyone up. He flew his mother, Cindy and his son, uncle Thomas and Elijah and Owens wife and kids to South Africa in Abè’s estate. He then made a call to Russians to send down fire arms. Within 5 days they where packed and delivered to the Fermount boat harbor. Rahim ordered bombs to be set off in the heart of the United States, Washington DC. On March 2nd 1987 the first civil attack by the Washington family was felt the world over, twelve thousand people in the senate where killed as the US presidency held their annual democratic state meeting. News traveled fast of how a terrorist family had shaken the very foundations of the United States. The president called for an immediate call of action to stop the Washington family. Rahim knew that they needed more help from Russia but when he called the president he told Rahim what the US had done, the US government knew that the Washington family was getting backing from Russia so they promised to send a nuclear bomb if they didn’t stop working with the Washington family as they would have grounds to consider Russia as an accomplice to US terrorist attacks.

The US army and Federal Bureau of investigations took to the city of Fermount to find and kill Rahim, he knew that they would eventually catch him so he decided to meet his family in South Africa, and fly with them to Alaska. As he loaded his getaway truck with Owen, US soldiers burst into his yard, they had gotten through the heavy guarded gates and made a B line for the drive way. Rahim and Owen Took the underground get away bunker, a bullet hit Owens legs and he fell to the floor. Rahim tried to pick him up as they made it out the bunker into the exit to the woods. But Owen had lost a lot of blood, He couldn’t continue anymore, with tears in Rahim’s s face he pushed to carry Owen and fell to the floor. Rahim screamed and used all his might to try pick him up but they were slowing down. Owen grabbed his friends hand and said “it’s okay”

“No man I can pick you up don’t fucking give up on me Owen”

“Mate we can’t do this, you need to go, we’ve made it this far man this is where our journey ends”

“No Owen please” tears flowed down Rahim’s face and it felt like he was crying out his soul.

“Listen, tell Elizabeth I love her man, tell my kids about me everyday and tell them that daddy loves them with all his heart, take care of my kids man, take care of my fucking kids Rah, please man”

“You have my word brother, I love you”

Rahim kissed Owens hand, got up, looked back one more, nodded his head and said goodbye to his friend”

Owen took out his gun and put it to the temple of his head.

As Rahim ran through the woods he heard a bang, stopped, looked back for a second and continued to run.

Chapter 8 - let blood run

Rahim had thought that there was no place colder than Fermount, until he spent his first night in Alaska. It was so cold that you would think your thoughts where frozen, it didn’t make it any better that they had a house on top of a mountain but like any good Washington he adapted, his family adapted, to the conditions, to the constant paranoia, to the inevitability of being caught and to the realization that they would probably never see their families again. Two years had passed since the US government seized every Washington asset known to man. Many of the Washington men had been incarcerated on false chargers and the government paraded the end of organized crime. Rahim’s promise held strong though, none of his business partners where harassed and business continued to run as normal even if it was on a smaller scale. The government realized that Rahim’s plan worked, they had chased the wrong people and because they paraded the end the Washington family in the media they could not go after the real partners of the Washington family. Firstly because they didn’t know where to start without the head of the Washington family. with every Washington man who entered those jail cells not one word was uttered about the families dealings and partners and secondly the public would accuse the US government of wasting money in finding the sole proprietors of organized crime when they had experienced their first recession in 70 years and still had a drug and Cold War to fight. The US President was persistent on finding Rahim and after two years of sniffling him out, the US government made its way to The Alaskan mountains.

Rahim and Cindy walked down the mountain every morning to collect bore water while Mrs Debra and Rah’s sisters set up the table for breakfast. Luis Jr loved the snow and would play in it all day. He had grown so much and looked exactly like Rahim. The morning was colder than usual but the sky was clear, Cindy noticed that Rahim was tense and didn’t talk much during the hike down.

“Baby, you okay?”

“Huh?”

“I said are you okay?”

Rahim looked into her beady eyes, the same eyes he had fallen in love with when he meet her in New Guinea. Her nose was colored with a brush of red, her skin glowed and her hair was full and vibrant. He kissed her and said

“It’s time hunny bunny”

“Time for what Rah?” She replied

He put down the buckets in his hands and grabbed her shoulders.

“They’ve found us”

As if choreographed, one tear dropped down Cindy’s cheek and she asked

“How long do we have”

“How long do you You guys have”

“Wait what, you can’t stay Rah they’re gonna kill you”

“If I leave with you guys you’ll always have a target behind your back, we’ll never grow old and sit on a porch in our big home in Texas and watch our grandkids play in the yard if I don’t do this”

“But babe-“

“Baby listen, what did I tell you in that island bar in New Guinea?”

“That wherever I go you would follow till death”

“And I’m not gonna break that promise, okay”

“Okay”

“Immediately after breakfast a car will come to fetch you, mom, my sisters and Luis Jr. it will drive you to an old military flight school, if you don’t see the military flight school in about 30 mins after you leave from here I want you to shoot that mother fucker clean in the head. You’ll be put in a plane that will fly you guys to New Guinea”

Cindy smiled and kissed him.

“Now I want you to take the black brief case under our bed and give it to Abè, he’ll be waiting for you when you land, and whatever happens-“

Before he could finish what he was about to say Cindy hugged him and said, nothing will happen, we’ll see you soon okay”

“Okay”

Night hit the Alaskan mountains and the fog had masked the house in blinding white snow. Rahim sat alone in the dining room of the small wood house he had made a home for the last two years. He looked around the kitchen and smiled thinking about all the meals they had in here, maybe it was the cold or because the wooden house was so small that they had to be in each others faces but this house reminded him of Fermount, it reminded him of when his dad used to take him and his brother to baseball games, it reminded him of the nights in parking lots he would speed with fast girls and his best friend Owen and it reminded him of waking up 10 minutes earlier just to watch the sun kiss his wife’s face as she woke up. He knew that he would have to sacrifice something if he wanted his families name to live on, he knew the stakes would be high when he drenched his blood on that grave and he knew his dad would be proud of him. As the night lingered he heard commotion and he knew they had arrived. The Alaskan police force together with the US army burst into the property with vehicles going up to the house. Helicopters flew over the mountain with bright lights illuminating the little wooden house. Rahim waited until the vehicles made it close to the house and without warning a huge explosion blew up the house together with the mountain, and an avalanche of fire engulfed every army and police car that was close to the mountain. Alaska was on fire.

In the next few weeks the press was flooded with news of how the US government had killed the terrorist Mob boss Rahim Jackson in Alaska. The New Yorker read

“The Washington’s wicked rain of terror has finally ended.”

Chapter 9 - We multiply

On the noon of August 24th 1991, US government files where leaked to the media. With evidence linking the US government to war crimes, plans to invade Oil countries and civilian surveillance with news of government corruption being leaked on a daily basis. This hit the US government like a shit storm, the public wanted answers, the United Nations condemned the US for its inherent evil human right violations and in every state of the US and every country in the world civilians rioted and protested for answers. The US economy took a hit and trade sanctions were discussed. The White House was frantic and no one had heard anything from the president, he was not answering any calls and he didn’t send out even one press conference. As the president talked to his delegates in his office his secretary burst into his office and said

“Sir you have someone on the phone for you”

“I think it can wait Mika I’m busy with something here”

“Sir, you’re gonna want to take this”

He knew who it was but he didn’t want to believe it, he walked slowly to the white plastic telephone waiting for him on his secretary’s desk, as the delegates, counselors, mayors and military advisors watched, he picked up the phone

“Mr President, I believe I have something you need, I think it’s time we struck a deal don’t you think?.”

The end.

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hellolittleogre · 5 years ago

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Dusting off the Archives

Before the Magnificent Seven-Jane Eyre AU there was another unfinished Jane Eyre AU- the Eagle-Jane Eyre AU. I did not come up with this genius idea, it of course comes from Passion and Profession by Demon Rum.

Under the Cut: A Jane Eyre/ the Eagle crossover where Marcus is Rosamund Oliver and Esca is the Reverend St.John Rivers (occasionally channeling Maurice and a teetotal Brideshead Revisited).

Uncle Aquila is Mr Oliver and Marcus is sent to him in Morton when he is twelve and his mother has remarried and his stepfather does not want him around. She’s sent him away to protect him. St.John is maybe eleven or younger, they meet on the moor when St.John admires Marcus’ horse. His family’s financial difficulties has just started and all their horses have been sold, including Esca’s pony. Marcus shares the horse with him and they spend a magical summer on the moors before Marcus has to go back to school.

St.John eventually goes to Cambridge, makes friends with a group of young students, among them Amis Leash, a young student who is also going to be a priest. They have a very close friendship, walking arm in arm, sleeping in each other’s beds, leaning heads on laps etc and St.John realises he is in love. Immediately tries to cut all emotional ties to Leash without disrupting their friendship too much. He is equally unhappy about the possibility that Amis might love him back as if he does not. Amis becomes engaged and is genuinely in love with his fiancé. They graduate and Amis marries and St.John understands that he loves his wife and spends the night in the church sincerely thanking god for sparing his friend’s soul from the same taint that his own carries. He feels profound relief and joy at the same time as being torn apart, his greatest fear was his feelings being requited.

St.John returns to Morton and the parish there, he yearns for glory and power. Meanwhile Marcus has become a soldier and lost the use of his leg in the war. Uncle Aquila/Oliver comes to ask St.John to come and talk to him and lift his spirits during his convalescence and when St.John declines he promises a donation to the church and school and effectively buys his services.

Esca comes to talk to Marcus, who is very low. By this point St.John has schooled himself out of compassion and is very cold, made from marble. If Esca, with his horrible soul can live righteously then anybody should be able to do it, and he has no compassion for anyone who falters.

He tells Marcus: “God does not give us more than we can bear and he has made you strong.”

Slowly, slowly they fall in love, each subtly responding to the presence of the other, St.John flushes and kindles and becomes more compassionate, less marble but understands his emotions and refuses to let them rule him. Declines the invites Marcus makes him, even when he is obviously stupidly in love. Marcus is much more oblivious to his own emotions and can’t understand why Esca treats him like his dearest friend one moment and so cold the next, and his refusal to extend their intimacy.

Jane Eyre arrives to Morton. A variation of the scene at the school where she realises that S.t John/Esca is in love with Rosamund Oliver/ Marcus. Esca can sense her shrewd eye seeing him but also that she understands him and his wish to live better and more gloriously than his circumstances. Jane Eyre inherits the money from here Uncle and finds out that St. John and his sisters are her relatives and shares her good fortune. When his sisters no longer has to teach he decides to go where his soul is not chafing at the bit, and become a missionary for the glory of God. Esca fails to persuade Jane to marry him, in the last minute she turns away from him and he mourns that she has gone to live in sin with Mr Rochester.

When Marcus hears that Esca has decided to travel the next month without taking leave of Marcus he goes to the church in Morton and confronts him They fight it out in the church and Marcus lays out his emotions and demands that Esca answer him. St.John answers that he loves him but for the sake of their very souls he has to go or act on his feelings. It is precisely because he loves Marcus that he has to leave him. To his view it would have been better if they had not spoken and not acknowledged their feelings.

“So you do love me?” Marcus asks,the joy on his face cutting Esca like a knife.

“Like my soul is melted with yours.” Esca answers him

They kiss until St.John declares that they absolutely cannot. And then they kiss some more. St.John declares that they can never see each other again, if they see each other again they will only fall into sin, the physical rendering must be complete and total.

“Every contact with me taints your soul, that I love so dearly.” he tells Marcus, who clings Esca, holds him and begs him to stay but he is like stone and can’t be swayed.

St.John leaves the next day, sees Marcus from the train, he’s riding along the tracks on a hill.

St.John goes to Kolkata, is a complete failboat, he finds that nobody wants to convert. Builds a school in a rural district, takes up the abolitionist cause, catches malaria and dies.

Or nearly dies, on his deathbed Esca has a vision of being safe and sound with Marcus. The missionary reinforcement arrives and finds him nearly dead underneath the cross in the church. They take him back to Kolkata and then as soon as he is even slightly recovered they stick him on a boat to England (nobody likes St.John, he has a stick permanently up his ass and he makes everyone else look bad). Esca gets better when the weather becomes cooler but his health is ruined forever and he can never go back. He arrives back at Morton earlier than anticipated and instead of waiting for the carriage he decides to walk, which is a bad idea. Halfway home he collapses on the moor and is found by Marcus out on a ride. “How did you find me?” he asks, he had asked his sisters not to tell anyone he was coming home.

“Didn’t you call me?” Marcus answers. “For the past six months I have heard your voice every morning calling me out of the house to ride the moor.” Marcus puts him in front of him on the horse and they ride to the house, they snuggle. Esca is content, his soul is whole.

“I left a part with you and man cannot live without his soul,” he tells Marcus.

After his relapse on the moor Esca must convalesce, he finds out through gossip under his window that Marcus is likely to get married to a local lady, when Marcus visits and is surprised by his chill he makes a stilted reference to this.

“I should not presume, and on the whole it is better for you” he says and Marcus laughs and assures him he is not getting married. They talk and kiss. St.John suffers qualms but the flesh is weak after like five years of pining. Now God has given him joy and he would be ungrateful not to take it. Marcus makes him see that they are not put on the earth to be unhappy and all creatures must exist as God made them. St.John writes to Jane to apologize for being an ass.

And then they are happy gay Yorkshire farmers.

#Jane Eyre goes with action movies like Jane Austen goes with zombies #surprisingly handy #writing #morgue files #Jane Eyre #The Eagle #The Eagle Jane Eyre AU #tw colonialism

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clockworkmorningglory · 5 years ago

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Broken Images

So this is a story I’ve been working on for the past 12 years. I add a little bit or edit a little bit every now and again but have yet to finish. So far I have 7 chapters.

All characters are my own and so is the story line.

@authoressskr @unleashthemidnight @fictionalabyss @sorenmarie87 @kdfrqqg

Prologue

The rain beat down upon her body, mixing with the blood that slowly oozed from the hole in her shoulder. The pain was fading, mostly due to her fading in and out of consciousness. She looked around, her eyes tried to focus on her surroundings, but that was useless she'd lost too much blood. The prep had gotten away, not much she could do about it from this angle anyway. Back up would be here soon, and she could hear her father, the mayor yelling already, not to mention the rest of her family. She had been sheriff of Cottonwood for less than a year now, the most dangerous the job had been was when Bobby Ray Stills had decided to get roaring drunk and bust up Sammy's bar. Earlier this evening she had gotten a call from old Mrs. Hawkins's about someone messing around the old Jackson place. Thinking it was just a bunch of local kids playing around she had decided to just go check it out for herself. Crime had never been a problem in Cottonwood, but it had just come in a big way to the back woods Tennessee town, and Sheriff Amelia Rochester was going to make sure that it didn't stay long.

Chapter One

“Hey, Lia, how’s it going down at the station? Nice and quiet I hope.” Mayor Matthew Rochester’s concern for the town and especially for his only daughter came through in his voice.

If you would have told him twenty years ago that it would be his daughter taking his place as Sheriff instead of one of his four sons, he would have laughed, but now it made him proud. His little Amelia graduated from Tennessee State four years ago with a degree in Criminal Science and was a better shot then any of her brothers. When she told him a year ago that she was running for Sheriff he had given her his full support. After all, nothing major ever happened in Cottonwood.

“Things are goin' just fine Daddy. Bobby Ray and Melvin got into it over at Sammy's again so I went over to break it up. The Cameron twins broke Miss Somerville's window. So now I have two in the drunk tank and the twins will be mowin’ and fixin’ up Miss Somerville's yard for the rest of the summer.”

“Well, I need to get back to work. Tell Mama I'll see her at dinner on Sunday.” She listened as her father said his good byes and hung up the phone.

Her desk was messy but it was organized. She looked out the window; night had fallen on her little town and the evening shift had begun two hours before. Her youngest brother, Jeff, sat in the outer office reading the paper, with his feet propped up on the desk.

Marianne, the evening dispatcher, stood in the doorway to her office. “Sheriff, Mrs. Hawkins's was on the line; seems that there is some strange happenings over at the old Jackson place. Says she's seen lights out there and some strange noises have been gettin' her dog all in a lather.” Marianne was in her late fifties and had been a dispatcher at the Cottonwood Sheriff's Department for what seemed like forever. Lia sighed and pushed away from her desk.

“I'll head on out there and take a look, probably just a bunch of teenagers burning off some energy.” She said and pulled her gun from her desk drawer, clipped it onto her belt, then grabbed her jacket.

“Want me to rouse your brother from his reading so that he can come with you?” Marianne asked, looking over at Jeff still lounging with the evening paper. Lia just shook her head; nah wouldn't need to bother him. After all, nothing bad ever happened in Cottonwood.

Rain soaked her as she ran to her Explorer. She'd parked it in the shade earlier thinking it would stay cooler if it were out of the hot Tennessee sun. But around three that afternoon a storm system moved in and the sky had broken, letting loose a much needed rain. She drove the four miles to the old Jackson house. Its porch sagged, but the house itself was still sound. Unfortunately the old barn in back had lost the battle with time long ago; all that remained of it now was a ruin. She stepped out into the rain and pulled her cap down tighter on her head, then turned on her flashlight. Slowly she made her way to the old house, first checking the perimeter. Then making her way inside she started her sweep of the house. First the kitchen, the once pretty wallpaper hung off the walls in spots, the floor was littered with trash and the remnants of old furniture. Next was the living room, its once beautiful hardwood floors now had a slight green cast to them, and the remainder of a sofa sat in front of a broken picture window.

She worked her way around the outside of the house, until she made it to the back bedroom window. She swept the light slowly through the room until she came upon a scene that’s memory would haunt her life forever.

“Sweet Jesus” There in the middle of the room tied to the frame of an old metal bed was a naked man, or what was left of him. His arms were stretched above his head, tied with what looked to be baling wire. It looked like he had put up a struggle, because the wire was embedded deep into his wrists. His face was ashen with death and his eyes....…“Oh Lord” His eyes had been cut from his head. The rest of his body was covered with incisions, all over major arteries. Lia took a deep breath; the taste of bile invaded her mouth. Oh no, she couldn't get sick now, she needed to radio for back up, get the lab guys from Chattanooga here. Lia made her way back to the Explorer, her hands shaking and her stomach threatening to revolt.

“Marianne, this Lia, come in.” She slid from the side of the truck down to the ground, losing the battle to stand up.

“I'm here, Sheriff. What’s goin' on out there? Bunch of kids partying,” Marianne's voice crackled over the radio. Lia took a deep breath to steady herself.

“Marianne I need to you get all the boys out here ASAP, we have a homicide. Call the Lab boys too. Jesus, Mari this is a mess.”

Silence answered her for a moment. “Right away Sheriff, Jeff and Lyle are on their way there now.”

Lia was still sitting by the truck when she heard a noise. She stood slowly and drew her gun. “Come out! Come out with your hands up. I'm Sheriff Lia Rochester of the city of Cottonwood. Throw down any weapons and come out with your hands up!”

Silence answered her; she scanned the area around the house. Nothing moved. She swept the darkness again when a shadow melted out of the inky blackness behind her. The coppery smell of blood reached her first. Reacting on instinct she spun around, her weapon ready to fire. As she spun her gun was knocked out of her hands, and she was knocked to the ground. The shade loomed over her; the dim light from the truck gave off just enough light that she could make out a knife in its hand, just as it swung towards her. She moved quickly enough so that it struck her in the shoulder instead of through the heart. The knife went in to the hilt, pinning her to the ground.

Pain exploded causing her to cry out. The shadow loomed closer; she could smell the drying blood on him and feel the heat of his breath.

“Tell the Wolf that I'm back and I'm just getting started.” A gravelly voice whispered out. Then with a jerk he pulled the knife from her shoulder, and was gone. Lia groped for her gun, and found it a few feet away. She propped herself against the truck, tears ran down her face. The pain in her shoulder slowly over whelmed her. She heard the sounds of sirens in the distance as her world slowly faded to black, and she wondered what type of hell had just come to Cotton County.

*********************************

The pain was the first thing that she noticed, next was the smell of antiseptic, and then there was the chaos going on around her. She could hear her mom and dad talking to someone, and her brothers threatening all sorts of retribution on the man who had hurt their baby sister. The loudest of the four was her oldest brother Jed, his deep voice rose above the others.

“I don't care what you have to do, get me the best damn man you have down here now! The Sheriff is out of commission until further notice and I want you to get your asses down here and find this maniac before he kills again.” The last of his sentence all but a shout, he flipped his cell phone shut with a loud CLICK.

“Where the hell, were you Jeff? Couldn't you have gotten off your lazy ass and gone with her? Christ Jesus. She could have been killed!” Lex said, as he glared at his youngest brother. Lex was the quietest of the four. His voice was barely above a whisper but caused the rest of the room to go deathly still. Jed and Lex both looked at Jeff, their faces grim. The color left Jeff's face, his mouth thinned with strain. Guilt made the young man look years older than he was.

“L-leave him alone, it....it was my decision. I'm Sheriff and it was my call.” Lia said weakly. Her whole body hurt; she tried to sit up but the pain in her shoulder kept her from it. Slowly she looked around the room, taking in each one of her brothers. They were all tall, and loomed above the doctor and their mother. The only one who stood toe to toe with them was their father. All of them had dark brown hair and deep green eyes; she was the odd one out with her light brown hair and hazel eyes, not to mention her height. At barely five foot three, she only came up to their chins; they had a good foot on her.

“Oh, Matt!! She's awake, my baby girl is awake!” Hazel Rochester's frail voice echoed in the stillness of the hospital room. “Oh darlin' Mama and Daddy's here and we'll take good care of you.” She said as she brushed the hair out of Lia's eyes, her hand trembled slightly.

“I'm alright Mama, I'm just fine. The guy just caught me unaware is all. Next time I'll know better, he won't get the drop on me then.” Lia said her weak voice slowly gathering strength.

“Damn it Lia there won't be a next time!” Her father's voice shook with rage and helplessness.

The room went quiet, and Lia's head tilted up stubbornly. '“I was elected Sheriff Dad and I will get this guy. I won't have you blame Jeff because he wasn't there to protect me, if you want to blame someone blame me. It was my stupidity that got me into this mess.” Lia said, finally mad enough to force herself into an upright position on the uncomfortable hospital bed.

“The FBI is going to handle this, Lia. This guy is totally gone in the head. Dad and I read the file earlier. He has been killing people for the last five years.... No one has been able to get a lead on him 'cause he leaves no evidence and no witnesses. Did you hear me, Lia? NO WITNESSES! You’re lucky to be alive; Doc says that if that knife had been over a little bit to the right you WOULD be dead.” Jed's voice had a quiet threat to it. The softness of it made the nurse in the room look nervously around and then, excusing herself, left the family alone in the room.

“I'm a big girl Jed. I don't need you or one of the boys to look after me. Just as soon as Doc okay's me I'm out of here and on the phone to the boys at the FBI office. I refuse to let this psycho win, and if I give up and let ya'll handle this for me, well that’s exactly what I'd be doing. I'd be showing this guy my fear and guys like this feed off of fear.” Her voice rose above the denials of her parents and brothers.

From the door way, a tall man listened as the young woman in the bed told her family that she would not bow out. That she had every intention of finishing this fight. He felt a strange kind of pride in the fact that she would stand up for herself even when she was wounded. He ran his fingers through his long black hair, not exactly company Okayed but he liked it. His tailored black suit fit him like a second skin and whereas others looked out of place in it, he looked elegant. . . . And lethal.

Zeke Wolf looked FBI, but underneath he was as far away from company issue as the cowboy boots he wore. Zeke slowly took in the room, Cotton County Prosecuting Attorney Jed Rochester stood over his sister's bed while two of her other brothers, Jeff and Lex stood in the corner glaring at her. The Mayor and his wife sat in the two chairs on the right side of the room doing the same. He took a deep breath and threw himself to the lions that were the Rochesters.

Jed was about to tell Lia exactly what he thought of her heading out on a call on her own, when Wolf walked into the hospital room. Jed sent a glance to his brothers who quickly moved to block the man’s path to their sister.

“This is a private room, and we'd like to keep it that way so why don't you go back out the way you came in.” Jed said, as he slowly evaluated the big man in front of him. The guy had a good five inches on Jed's own six foot, and was built like a linebacker but moved like a jungle cat. Whoever this man was, he was someone who would strike fear into a lesser bunch of men, but the Rochester men could and would hold their own.

“Mr. Rochester, I'm sorry to interrupt but I'm from the FBI office in Nashville, I'm here to talk with Sheriff Amelia Rochester.” Zeke said, a slight smile played on his lips for a moment and then was gone. He looked at the woman on the bed. This time he was able to see her more clearly. She reminded him of a pixie. She was small framed, but he could see the strong sleek muscle that stretched and bunched in her uninjured arm. Her light brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail and her bright hazel eyes were spitting fire at the men standing around her.

“Well you'll just have to wait; she's in no shape to be talkin' to anyone right now.” Lex said. The other two brothers nodded their agreement. They looked like three big dogs protecting an adopted kitten from attack. Zeke was looking each of them over in turn when the quiet of the room was broken; a low growl sounded from the bed behind the men. A loud THWACK sounded as a pillow beaned the oldest Rochester boy upside the head.

“I have told ALL of you that I'm a big girl now. Hell not just a big girl, I'm the damn sheriff!! Now if ya'll will excuse me, I'd like to talk to Agent.......Agent.....I'm sorry sir I didn't catch your name.” Lia’s voice still a bit raspy from the pain medication. Her brother's parted enough so that she could look at the man who had entered the room. His face looked like it had been cut from granite, his skin told of a mixed heritage. His nose a thin blade, his cheek bones high and prominent, he had a strong honest face, but his eyes held her. They looked like storm clouds, a mixture of blue and gray.

“I'm Special Agent Zeke Wolf, with the Nashville branch of the FBI. I'd like to talk with you Sheriff.......If that's alright?” Lia looked around at her brothers then she looked to her mother. Holding her daughter’s gaze Hazel Rochester nodded her head then started to shoo her husband and children out of the room.

“Agent Wolf, please remember that my daughter has just been through a very tough night and isn't her full self yet. Lia, darlin' if you need anything your daddy and I are just a holler away.” With one last look at Zeke she walked out, closing the door behind her.

“Now, Agent Wolf, what can I do for you?”

Zeke pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat down. “Well Sheriff I need you to tell me all that you can about what happened last night. Let’s start with what you did when you first arrived on the scene.”

Lia closed her eyes and thought back to the night before, then taking a deep breath she began.

“The rain was coming down cats and dogs.... but Lord did we ever need it. I stopped in front of the old Jackson place; I could hear Mrs. Hawkins's dogs in the distance. Couldn't hear them real well though, the rain on the old tin roof was makin' too much noise. I started to do an initial sweep, first I looked in the windows of the kitchen, the living room, and then the back bedrooms. It all looked normal at first, and then I came to the last bedroom. Where the other floors had a green tint to them from the years of mold and mildew this one looked like it had been cleaned and polished. I looked through the room slowly and then I came upon the victim.” Stopping Lia took a calming breath, trying to push back the nausea that assaulted her at the memory, and then continued. “His wrists were wired to the bed, and he looked like someone had used him as a pin cushion. Jesus, all the crime scene photos in the world never prepare you for the real thing, do they Agent?”

Zeke sat for a second as he took in everything that Lia had just said, then ran a hand down his face. Three years before he'd been assigned to the Wraith murders. The victims all varied in age and sex. The only thing that stayed the same was the method the killer used. All the victims had been found in abandoned houses, their wrists tied to the bed with wire and their life's blood drained out of them. Three years ago he had been hot on the trail of the mad man, when the unthinkable almost happened...... He had almost become one of the killer’s victims.

#Own Story

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