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vhenadahls · 2 years

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like your mother and your father too (all grown up but they’re just like you)

Jane’s at school in France, and Phryne and Jack take some time out to visit her. They all discuss what’s happened since they last saw each other.

G, 2900 words.

AO3 link in first reblog!

“Mademoiselle Jane? Tes parents sont là.”

Your parents are here. Jane looks up once the meaning occurs to her, face pinched in confusion. Parents?

“Qui est-ce?” Who is it, she asks, uncurling herself from the chair she’s been sitting in for nearly two hours straight, her body protesting the whole way. Madame Léontine gives her a curious look, so she amends the question. “What do they look like? It’s important.” If it’s…

Still curious, Mme. Léontine gestures for Jane to follow her. “Your mother is beautiful - lovely black hair, such pretty blue eyes. Cut so short, though, like a flapper. Lovely clothing. Your father is so stoic. Very properly dressed. But they seem so very much in love, still. You don’t see that often.”

Jane huffs in surprise, mouth dropping open. “Miss Phryne! Inspector Robinson!” she bursts out, speeding up so she’s nearly running down the hall. Mme. Léontine hurries to catch up with her, squawking about running inside, but Jane ignores her and rounds the corner at full speed. They're standing closer together than most people do, as always, heads bent together in conversation.

“Miss Phryne!” she calls out, and the woman in question spins around, arms wide open and with the biggest smile Jane’s ever seen on her face.

“Jane!” she cries, and Jane tumbles into her arms.

It's the first time she's seen either of them since that awful, awful telegram from Dot - Miss Fisher dead in Palestine - and the following debacle of finding out otherwise. She’d missed the botched memorial, showing up three days after Miss Phryne and Inspector Robinson had left for Palestine, to Aunt Prudence’s shock. Probably not the way anyone had expected her to find out that the reports had been wrong. Trouble followed them, as it always has.

Miss Phryne kisses her forehead, and Jane giggles at the lipstick print she knows is there. Being in her arms is like someone turned back the clock, but done it wrong somehow - they're nearly the same height now, and they're in the foyer of Jane's school, and the world has turned on its side a bit.

She holds onto Miss Phryne for dear life, and she can feel her hugging her back just as tightly.

"Hello, Jane," says the Inspector's voice over her shoulder. Trying to turn to greet him without letting go makes her trip over her own feet, and she bursts into uncontrollable giggles when she realizes there's tears streaming down her face. Miss Phryne just holds her tighter, and Inspector Robinson's smile reminds her of home.

"Can we take her out for the day?" Miss Phryne asks over her head, also in French, and Jane's heart leaps. She has an exam in Latin to study for and an essay to finish for history, but anything pales at the chance of getting to spend the day with Miss Fisher.

“Her legal guardian may sign her out,” Mme. Léontine responds, nodding to Inspector Robinson. Jane rolls her eyes and opens her mouth to explain exactly how things work.

She doesn’t need to. “That would be Miss Fisher,” the Inspector says in English, nodding to Miss Phryne, with a look on his face that Jane’s seen many times before. His French isn’t the best, she remembers, but apparently he understood enough of that to demure.

Miss Phryne nods too, the movement sharp, unwrapping her arms from around Jane and adjusting her blouse. “Show me where I need to sign.” Clipped, abrupt French now. She follows Mme. Léontine around the corner to the teachers’ office.

Jane’s left in the foyer with Inspector Robinson. It’s been a long time since she’s seen him, and his presence almost makes her feel fourteen again. “It’s good to see you, Inspector.”

His familiar, nostalgic smile appears again. “You can call me Jack at this point, Jane. Everyone else does. Including your Miss Fisher.” He reaches out an arm - asking for a hug, if she wants it. When she accepts, it’s not nearly the same kind of reminiscent as hugging Miss Phryne. His cologne’s far less familiar than her French perfume, for one, and his coat is a far cry from silk and satin. But it’s lovely.

She steps back and grins up at him, putting on all her sixteen-year-old charm. His expression immediately turns suspicious, and she nearly bursts out laughing. She’s seen that look before. He does spend a lot of time with Miss Phryne, after all.

“Are you and Miss Phryne together?” she asks, point-blank. Best to catch them off guard. More likely to get the truth that way.

He actually blushes, and Jane’s grin widens. He can’t deny it now, like they’ve been doing for years.

“Finally,” she says, putting as much emphasis on the word as she can.

Clearing his throat but not meeting her eyes, he nods, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “You could say that.” He looks back up. “And you’re a lot like her, you know.”

It’s the best compliment someone could give. Her own cheeks heat to match his, and she ducks her head away from his penetrating gaze.

Miss Fisher appears from the office at that moment, clapping her hands together once. “Now! That’s done, and you’re all ours for the day, Jane.” She sweeps forward, linking arms with both Jane and Inspector Robinson - Jack - and pulling them towards the door.

“Where are we going?” Jane asks, trying to avoid whacking her outside arm against the doorframe as Miss Phryne pulls them both into the sunshine.

“Wherever we like!” Miss Phryne stops in front of an unfamiliar car - black, boxy, and a far cry from the Hispano-Suiza at home. She must notice Jane’s surprised look, because she wrinkles her own nose. “I know, I know. But it’s rented, and they didn’t have the widest selection of motorcars to choose from.” She climbs into the driver’s seat, on the left, which still feels wrong to Jane after years on the Continent. Jack looks resigned, and Jane laughs internally about the never-ending complaints about Miss Phryne’s driving.

She hasn’t changed a bit. It heals Jane’s heart, to realize, and to remember.

They wind up at a fancy restaurant Jane’s been to before, but only for etiquette practice. It’s a far cry from sitting in the dining room with some of her favorite people, speaking familiar Australian English and not worrying about her accent, laughing and teasing and never running out of things to say.

After their soup’s been cleared away, Miss Phryne fixes her with another familiar look. One that says she’s heard some story from Aunt Prudence and wants to know Jane’s side and she’s holding out judgment. A smirk, a perfectly arched eyebrow. “I hear you showed up at the Lofthouse estate a few days after we’d left, much to Aunt P’s consternation. Something about stowing away across the French countryside? Posing as a maid and a shopgirl? Oh, the horror for Aunt P.”

Jack’s clearly trying not to smile. Jane’s cheeks warm again, and she fixes her gaze on the salt shaker instead of looking either of them in the face.

“What’s your side of the story?”

The salt shaker is very interesting. “Well, I got the telegram from Dot. The one that said you were dead,” she starts, and even out of the corners of her eyes she can see them both flinch. “And then I heard there was a memorial in London, they said so in the English newspaper we get at school. I wanted to go! I needed to go. But Aunt Prudence sent another telegram, saying that she had contacted the school and they couldn’t figure out who my legal guardian was with you gone. And I can’t leave without a legal guardian’s permission.”

Neither of them are smiling now. “I’m sorry, Jane,” Miss Phryne says.

She never says that. Jane balls her hands in her skirt. “But I couldn’t miss it. I just couldn’t. You’ve done so much for me.” Tears start to gather in her eyes at the memory of those days, the emptiness and loss and drifting, and she squeezes her eyes shut to keep them from falling. “So I left. I walked to town, and I found someone who was driving north. And once I pretended I was a lady’s maid but had gotten lost and needed to get back to my employer. And then when we got to Calais, I stowed away on the ferry. And then the same thing in England, I just…told people I needed to get to London for various reasons, and they took me.” The words all come out in a rush. “Once I pretended I was delivering things for someone, that must be where Aunt Prudence got the shopgirl bit from.”

“But the trip took longer than you expected,” Jack says. She looks up, and his face is impassive, unreadable.

She nods. “I waited too long to hear from Aunt Prudence before I left. I would’ve made it if I hadn’t! It’s not that long of a trip, but I couldn’t ask anyone to take me directly. I had to just follow where they were going and then hope someone else was going the right way.” Dropping her head again, she studies the pattern of the lace on the edge of the tablecloth.

Miss Phryne taps her fingers against the same elegant tablecloth, rippling the lace. “That’s quite a story, Jane.”

“Like mother, like daughter,” Jack murmurs, so low that Jane thinks she probably wasn’t supposed to hear it. She snaps her head up again, trying to catch it on his face, but it’s still just as impassive as before. A police officer’s face if she’s ever seen one.

“As it damn well should be.” Miss Phryne taps a finger against the back of Jack’s hand, and the immediacy of his shocked expression lets Jane know that they definitely were not supposed to hear that comment. She stifles a giggle.

“Well,” Miss Phryne continues, switching topics seamlessly, “Aunt Prudence certainly expects me to discipline you for all of this. Playing truant from school, running away, lying, traveling without a chaperone! I’m sure she could come up with even more.” She pauses, an unreadable look on her face, too.

“But?” Jane prompts.

“But I can't.” Both of Miss Phryne’s hands splay out flat on the table, long and poised - but stiff, and Jane knows from experience that she’s trying to keep them from trembling. “I can’t imagine how that must have been for you. I know what it’s like to worry about you, but I never thought about you worrying about me. I should have written. I should have…well. I should have done a lot of things, for you.”

Her face is stricken, and tears trail down her cheeks as Jane watches. “I’m sorry, Jane,” she says again, and Jane’s own tears spill over.

Heedless of the setting they’re in, she jumps out of her chair so quickly she nearly knocks it over and wraps her arms around Miss Phryne’s narrow shoulders. “You’re alive. You came back. That’s all I need.”

There’s some grumbling from the tables around them, a quip about disturbing the peace, but she ignores it all. She rests her head on Miss Phryne’s, and they stay that way for long enough that Jane loses track of time. Eventually Miss Phryne raises her chin, dislodging Jane’s head, and kisses her cheek.

“Thank you,” she says, and her voice is hoarse and quiet. Jane doesn’t trust her own voice, so she simply nods and returns to her seat. Jack reaches out and squeezes her hand when she sits down, his other hand outstretched to Miss Phryne on the other side of the table. He doesn’t say anything either. They don’t need him to.

Soon after, Miss Phryne flags down a server to pay and hurries them both out. Jane shares a rueful smile with Jack as they follow her. She’s never been able to sit still, especially not after an emotional display. They pile back into the car and Miss Phryne takes off. She fits right in with Parisian drivers, with very little regard for either other drivers or safety regulations.

They come to a stop along the Seine, near the Pont de la Tournelle. It’s not the nicest day for walking - a little too warm, a little too muggy - but Jane couldn’t care less as she climbs out of the car. Jack steps out of the front seat and makes a big show of holding onto a bench, pretending to catch his breath after the hectic motorcar ride. “You’re very lucky, Miss Fisher, that my authority as a police officer doesn’t extend to France. There are speed limits here too, you know.”

Laughing, Miss Phryne opens her parasol and links her other arm through Jack’s, pulling him away from the bench. “What rot. We were perfectly safe the whole time and you know it.”

Jane’s cheeks hurt from smiling so hard as she watches them walk towards the path by the river. Along with her own joy at seeing them, it’s lovely to see them so happy with each other. It’s been a long time coming. But when Miss Phryne turns, gesturing with her parasol and another trademark smirk for Jane to catch up - Jane’s heart squeezes. She’s still wanted. They came to visit her.

The walk is nice, and the ice cream they get to cool off after is nicer. But when the sun sets and the motorcar turns back towards Jane’s school, the tears from earlier start to prick at her eyes again. Miss Phryne keeps up a steady stream of stories, with interjections from Jack, about everything under the sun. Adventures in India, their time in Palestine, even just anecdotes about riding a camel. Jane tries to keep up, but her mind keeps wandering, following her eyes out the window as she tries to keep the tears from falling. The Parisian sky is never as comforting as the Melburnian one.

They pull into the drive, and Jane steels herself for a painful goodbye. She’s said goodbye to them both before. But Miss Phryne turns in her seat with another wide smile on her face, and Jane can’t prevent the tears any longer.

“Jane? What’s wrong?” The smile gone, Miss Phryne reaches out, awkward as she tries to maneuver between the seats. She grabs for Jane’s hand. “Are you all right?”

“I just don’t want to say goodbye.” Jane tries not to blubber like a child half her age. “It’s been so long, and home is so far away, and…that news…” She takes a deep breath. “Part of me is afraid I won’t see you again.”

“Oh, Jane, no!” In one fluid motion Miss Phryne is out of the driver’s seat and pulling open Jane’s door. She wraps her arms around her, hugging so mightily that Jane won’t be able to breathe for much longer if she keeps it up.

“We’re here for the week, at least,” she says against Jane’s head, tugging on one of her plaits. “Did I not say?”

The laugh that bursts out of Jane is watery, but her tears are already drying on her cheeks. “No! No, you definitely only asked if you could take me out for the day!”

“You have school, so I thought we’d come back another day. But I apparently forgot to actually say that.” Miss Phryne looks mildly chagrined for just a moment, which immediately turns into less-mild indignation. She ducks further into the car, leaning across Jane. “Jack! Why didn’t you remind me to tell her?”

“I assumed you had!” He turns further in his seat, resting one hand on Jane’s knee. “I should have said, though.”

A week. They’ll be here after her Latin exam, after she hands in her history essay, over the weekend. “Oh! There’s the Théâtre de Verdure du Jardin Shakespeare, with gardens themed after his plays. They might be staging something, too. We should go!” She squeezes Jack’s hand, still on her knee. “You like Shakespeare too, right? I remember you mentioning.”

“I do.” He pulls his hand back. “We should definitely go. But for this evening, you should definitely go back inside before we get in trouble for keeping you out too late.” She rolls her eyes, Miss Phryne scoffs, and Jack looks between them and laughs. “I deserved that. Wrong crowd.”

“I should go in, though. You're not wrong.” Jane nudges Miss Phryne, who steps back to let her out of the car, and Jack climbs out on the other side. As he rounds the front of the car, Jane wraps an arm around both adults’ waists, pulling them in towards her and ignoring their squeaks of surprise. After a moment to get over the shock, she feels both their arms wrap around her in return.

They stand that way for a while.

“Thank you,” Jane mumbles, her face pressed between their shoulders. “For coming.”

“Couldn’t miss it,” Miss Phryne says, and Jane knows her well enough to hear the apology and the promise in those words.

Five minutes later, she stands at the front window, watching the car drive away. Even knowing they’ll be here for the week, watching them leave is difficult - it was hard enough to learn that Miss Phryne would always come back the first time around, and the six weeks of believing she was gone forever have not helped that matter.

But the taste of home, and the people who made it such, is the nicest thing she’s had all year.

#miss fisher's murder mysteries #phryne fisher #jack robinson #jane ross #phryne x jack #phrack #otp: let's misbehave #mfmm fic #logan writes fic #AO3 link will be in a reblog because tumblr doesn't like links!

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lit-in-thy-heart · 9 months

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having watched good omens 2, i am definitely thinking about some crossover involving jane austen and the 1810 clerkenwell diamond robbery, crowley, clara oswald and possibly the doctor thrown in

#clara's line about jane austen being an excellent kisser livea rent free in my head #i've had a fic idea based on that remark and the 'i love her. take that any way you like' comment in my head for around 7 years now #also having done a quick google it seems like there was no clerkenwell diamond robbery of 1810 #which leaves a lot more room to play with things #not that i need more fic ideas #but the david tennant link is just too good #good omens 2 #doctor who #good omens spoilers #lit talks #jane austen

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grasslandgirl · 2 years

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the sea changes colors (but the sea does not change)

[Stranger Things, post season 4. Max & El, Max & Eddie, background Lucas/Max. 8k.]

“I like the hair,” Max murmurs. And, oh. El had forgotten. She’s tried to avoid her reflection since she left NINA. She doesn’t like how young she looks in the mirror, short hair and dark eyes and her chin that trembles even when she tries to be strong.

“Lucas said it was this short when they first met you,” Max says, “but I never got to see it.” Her fingers trail down from the top of El’s head and trace across her cheek. She brushes away a tear El hadn’t realized she’d cried. “I like it,” Max repeats.

----------

“Do you have an electric razor?”

Eddie blinks. Then slowly nods. “Uh. Yeah, I think so? Haven’t used it in a while, obviously.” He tugs at a piece of his hair pointedly. “But I think Uncle Wayne’s got one rattling around in the bathroom. Why?”

Max purses her lips. Readjusts her grip on her crutch. “I want to shave my head. Like El.” And then, quickly, “If you don’t want to help me I’ll use my mom’s kitchen scissors.”

----------

aka. Max gets a haircut. Things grow.

hello mtv and welcome back to my stranger things brain rot

much thanks and love as always to sama @joey-wilson for inspiring and encouraging this, and to my darling casey @aberfaeth for making sure it was legible <3 mwah mwah

YOU CAN READ THE SEA CHANGES COLORS (BUT THE SEA DOES NOT CHANGE) HERE ON AO3

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defaultjane-official · 5 months

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AKA What the hell is the difference between a painting done by a person who wishes to paint like a child, and a child’s painting?

#horizon forbidden west #tilda van der meer #elisabet sobeck #elisabet x tilda #tilda van der meer x elisabet sobeck #jane's horizon fic #yes i know the link says chapter 4 but that is because it counts the prologue as ch1 which it isn't

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classpectpokerap · 2 years

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The Alpha Kids Discord chatfic, "Got the server working, here's the invite link:" has been updated with chapters 3 and 4!

Unfortunately, chapter 4 of Invite Link isn't available on AO3 quite yet, so no link is available - please subscribe to the story on AO3 for updates, or view the complete story so far on MSPFA!

Links to chapter 3 are below.

Thank you for reading! Your continued interest inspires me to return to stories like Invite Link. I've had a lot of fun writing the alpha kids again!

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tenmillionwatervoles · 9 months

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There was a comfortable solitude in an empty laundromat, Peter always thought - but now here was this kid to share it with him. Life was cool from time to time.

Peter and Miles hang out, right before the plot starts hotting up.

#Peter b Parker #miles morales #Mary Jane Watson #Wade Wilson #into the spider-verse #ITSV #my writing #my fics #gwen stacy #ignore how I fucked up and linked chapter one at first

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meliorysm · 2 years

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was reading a really good thread that contextualized mike's actions this season (as compared to the previous seasons) and really, if you think about it, mike's massive hero/savior complex and his tunnel vision on the person he's projecting it to is the reason we're all feeling like this right now, isnt it? maybe he grew into this singular mindset in st4 AND then he latches on to that person that he thinks needs his protecting, even when they're actually much more capable. im just pissed that he and/or the writers thinks its a singular role and that he seems incapable of caring about other stuff (cough people cough) when he has settled on that one person (i.e. will or el). its kinda obssessive and kinda toxic and thats why it felt bad, felt off. or maybe the duffers just cant write shit like st1 or st2 again they fumbled on mike so bad, who knows!

#stranger things #stranger things 4 #mike wheeler #mike wheeler i know what you are #will byers #eleven #jane hopper #only tagging #byler #here tho i cos im tired #if anyone wants a link on the thread i read or a fic that delves deep into this lmk #mikes savior complex is fascinating to talk about tho?#its such a main character main protag shounen mc trait #and thats why stranger things is actually an anime in this esaay i will #been a long time since i posted here like lmao?? not even stsg got me talking abt the charas bc everyone already did #but st and byler in st4 is just...SOMETHING

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mysunfreckle · 1 year

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I am continually going through Gutenberg’s version of Pride and Prejudice for the fic and the illustrations

Look at these!

Mr. Collins “extending an olive branch” to Mr. Bennet:

Lizzie trying to make up her mind about Darcy vs Whickham after reading Darcy’s letter:

Lydia’s dreams of staying at the camp in Brighton:

Darcy, Caroline and Louisa attempting to drag Bringley away from Jane, and three cupids trying to prevent them:

Lady Catherine going full Lady Catherine:

They’re by Hugh Thomson, please go look at the others. There’s a list with page links at the start

#austen #jane austen #illustrations #pride and prejudice #p&p #pride & prejudice #hugh thomson

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milfsloverblog · 9 months

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Green-Eyed Monster (NSFW)

Jane Murdstone x fem!reader

A/N: This is a request that I got a long while ago, something about Jane and some drama/smut. I apologise to whoever sent the request, I can’t find it in my inbox anymore. I started writing this fic so long ago, all the wips in my notes cheered when I typed in the last word. As always, Jane is the reddest redflag. Enjoy!<3

AO3 link in title

You loved Alice, you loved the way she always found a way to make you laugh. When she joined the staff at the Murdstone mansion, you immediately knew you two would be good friends.

Oh yes, you loved Alice. But not like you loved your Lady. Not like you loved Jane.

Loving Jane was like sitting in the sun after a long day of hard work. It warmed your heart and soul, making you feel incredibly alive.

Jane, on the other hand, had thought of a thousand ways to get rid of Alice. Going from simply firing her and making sure she’d never find work again all the way to wrapping her strong hands around the maid’s frail neck and squeezing until it snapped.

She would never, of course. But she was thinking about it. The thought of Alice being overly friendly and so close to you made it really hard for Jane to work through her feelings of homicidal rage.

It wasn’t fair. It was not fair that this silly little thing was allowed to spend her days by your side, making you laugh at her idiotic jokes while Jane could only spend a couple of hours with you late at night when the whole household was already asleep.

“She is being overly friendly to you, and I do not like it.” Jane groaned as you pulled the pins out of her hair.

“There is nothing more than friendship between Alice and me, Jane, you know that.” You reassured your lover, placing a soft kiss on her freckled shoulder.

“To you, perhaps! I see the way she is always trying to touch you, squeezing your shoulder as she walks by or holding onto your arm when she delivers one of her idiotic jokes. Has she never been told that we must not touch what is not ours?” The tall woman huffed, getting more agitated by the second. That silly little maid gave her murderous thoughts.

“I don’t think Alice sees me as anything more than a good friend, and even if she does…I’m yours.” You whispered, brushing your fingers through Jane’s raven locks and gently massaging her scalp.

Jane’s shoulders visibly relaxed and you pushed a soft smile, locking eyes with your lover in the mirror.

“I’m afraid I can not stay with you tonight, Jane. Mister Murdstone has asked me to be up at sunrise to run some errands, and I could use the sleep.” You gave the tall woman an apologetic smile, feeling her shoulders tense once more. You would have loved to spend the night with Jane but you barely got any sleep when you did, the two of you usually too busy making love to each other.

“Right.” She spat out, her lips pressed in a thin line. “Go back to the servant’s quarter, I bet you are craving to get back to your Alice.”

“Jane,” You tutted. “You are being rude, my love. There is nothing I want more than to spend the night in your arms, but I can’t. Not tonight.”

Jane huffed loudly, crossing her arms against her chest and refusing to look at you.

“Fine, sulk if you want.” You kissed the top of the woman’s head and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Sleep well, Jane.” You said, taking a last look at her reflection in the mirror before leaving the bedroom.

But Jane didn’t sleep well. She barely slept at all, her mind filled with thoughts of Alice’s hands on your body. It was unbearable, so much so that Jane came up with a plan. She needed that stupid girl to understand that you were hers, and she would make sure of it.

You had not expected Mister Murdstone’s errands to be taking so long to run. You had been gone from the house since sunrise and only came back around tea time, letting a sigh of relief out as you placed the heavy baskets you were carrying down. Food, clothing, newspapers, it was as if Edward Murdstone had decided that everything that could be fetched from town needed to be fetched that day.

You had barely stepped into the servant’s quarter when two hands wrapped around your waist and spun you around.

“I thought you would never be back! Thought you had run away for good!” Alice’s lips spread in a wide smile, making you laugh.

“Sure, and to go where, mm?” You shook your head. “Those errands he makes us run, they get worse every single time.”

“I know. I think he enjoys exhausting us as much as he possibly can.” Alice nodded. “Oh, Miss Murdstone has asked for me to take care of her tonight.”

Your body froze for a second and you had to take a deep breath before acting unfazed. You were about to ask for more details when a bell rang in the quarter, signalling that the Lady of the house was ready for her afternoon tea.

“Let me take care of it.” You pushed a smile and disappeared into the kitchen, quickly putting the kettle on.

A few minutes later you stepped into the study where Jane was sitting with her embroidery.

“My Lady,” You nodded, placing the tray on the table right next to her.

The tall woman barely acknowledged you as she placed her embroidery on the side and poured herself a cup of tea.

“I was made aware that you requested Alice to assist you tonight. Is my presence no longer required, my Lady?”

Jane’s eyes snapped to your face and you hoped she understood the hidden meaning behind your words. Do you not love me anymore?

“Were you made aware that your presence was no longer required?” The woman asked, her eyes slightly narrowing.

“No, my Lady.”

“Good. You shall be in my bedroom at seven sharp, as usual.” She said before taking a sip of tea and shooing you out of the room.

You knocked on the bedroom door at seven sharp, pushing it open and making your way inside only to find that Alice was already there.

“Good. Well, now that everyone is here…Sit.” Jane told Alice, pointing at the chair in the corner of the room. “Can’t you follow a simple order?! Sit!” She hissed when the maid didn’t obey fast enough.

Alice quickly walked to the chair and sat down, eyes wide in fear of what would happen to her next.

You stood still in the middle of the room as Jane circled you, feeling like a prey being hunted and played with by a predator.

“You see, Alice, you have gotten awfully close to something that belongs to me.” Jane said as she came to a stop behind you. You felt her tug at the knot on your apron before she took it off, letting it fall to the ground.

Alice watched in horror as Jane’s hands traveled to your front, groping your breasts through your dress before she moved to unbutton it.

“Did you know our little lady’s maid here loves to forgo underwear?” Jane smirked, watching Alice’s cheeks turn crimson as she opened your unbuttoned shirt to reveal your bare breasts. “Would you like to know how I know that?” The woman asked, placing an open-mouthed kiss on your neck. “I told her to.” She grinned and peeled your shirt from your body, letting in join your apron on the floor.

Alice tried hard not to let her eyes roam on your bare flesh, but she was unable to stop herself which only fuelled Jane’s anger.

“I told you she was interested in more than friendship.” Jane hissed in your ear, causing goosebumps to appear on your skin and your nipples to harden.

“M-Miss Murdstone-“ Alice said barely audibly. “I don’t think I should be here.”

“Quiet!” Jane barked. “Don’t you dare move from that chair or I will have you fired by tomorrow morning.”

“Jane…” You sighed and felt the woman’s fingers grab a handful of your hair before giving it a harsh tug, tilting your head so you’d look at her.

“Oh no,” She smirked. “Tonight you will address me either as Miss Murdstone or my Lady.”

She wouldn’t play nice tonight, then.

“Yes, my Lady.” You whispered, your tongue darting out to wet your lips.

Jane almost considered indulging you, she almost pressed a kiss to your lips but quickly changed her mind. This wasn’t about your or her pleasure, it was about teaching Alice a good lesson.

“Take your skirt off.” Jane ordered, letting her hands roam on your stomach for a second before pulling away. “I doubt you are wearing anything underneath it but if you are, take those off as well.”

A deep blush crept up your chest as you pulled your skirt down and stepped out of it, revealing that you were, in fact, not wearing anything underneath it. A low chuckle came from Jane’s throat and you waited, eyes closed, for the next order when you felt her lips on your shoulder and hands on your waist, her short fingernails digging into your flesh.

“Spread your legs.” She hummed near your ear and you obeyed without a second thought, your body shuddering when one of her hands snaked from your waist to your bush, resting there for a few seconds before she finally pushed two of her fingers between your folds.

“Well, well,” Jane tutted, pulling her fingers away from you and lifting them to show off the wetness that glistened on them. “Do you like having an audience?” She smirked, her eyes locking with Alice’s as she pushed her digits into her mouth and licked them clean.

The heat coursing through your body felt unbearable, a mix of both shame and arousal that made you feel dizzy.

“Yes, my Lady.” You admitted, whining when Jane’s fingers found their way back between your legs.

“You see, Alice,” Jane looked at the girl on the chair. “This one might act like a prude around you, but she is a filthy whore.” She chuckled lowly, her other hand moving to grab one of your breasts.

Jane expertly flicked her thumb on your nipple before giving it a sharp tweak, making you cry out as your sopping wet cunt clenched around nothing.

“Careful, we wouldn’t want the whole household to know you let your Lady have you.”

Jane didn’t let you answer, choosing instead to slip her fingers deep inside you and relishing in the guttural moan that tore itself from your mouth. She let her fingers commence their skillful ballet, pulling them out of you almost entirely only to push them back in up to the hilt.

It didn’t take long for you to turn into a mess, grinding down on Jane’s fingers as she crooked them to press against the soft, spongy spot that sent lighting shooting up your spine.

Your sinful moans mixing with the wet sounds coming from between your legs only spurred Jane on, her blue eyes fixed on the maid sitting in the corner of the room with her mouth wide open.

“Why don’t you tell your little friend who you belong to, mm?” Jane’s voice echoed in your mind.

“You! Y-yours, I’m yours!” You cried out. “All yours, my Lady!”

“Mine.” Jane snarled looking at Alice, hoping the message was clear.

Her free hand joined the busy one between your legs to circle your clit as she relentlessly pounded into you and could hear yourself begging from a distance - please, please, I can not hold back anymore. It felt like an eternity before Jane finally allowed you to cum, your cunt instantly clenching around her fingers as you were pushed over the edge.

The tall woman kept pumping in and out of you for a moment until she decided that you had had enough and pulled her fingers out, giving your core a harsh slap. You fell to your knees, your body still shaking from the intensity of your orgasm, and struggled to catch your breath.

Eventually, you turned around and looked up at Jane who was now standing tall in front of you. You grabbed a handful of her black dress to steady yourself and buried your face into the soft fabric.

“Thank you, Miss Murdstone.” You managed to say with your shaky voice, making the tall woman smirk proudly.

Jane pulled away from you, snatching her dress from your hands before walking towards Alice who was still transfixed by the whole scene. She roughly grabbed the maid’s face with one hand, forcing the girl to look up at her.

“Don’t you dare say a word about what happened here tonight.” She snarled. “No one would believe you. Now get out!”

Alice didn’t have to be told twice. The young woman was on her feet in a second and scurried out of the room as quickly as she could.

“Did you have to be so harsh?” You croaked as you slowly got back on your feet, watching Jane closing the bedroom door that Alice had left open.

“Which other choice did I have?” Jane said, pressing a soft kiss on your lips before moving to sit down at her dressing table. “She needed to be taught a lesson. You are mine, and she mustn’t mess with another woman’s belongings.”

“Yes, my Lady,” You chuckled softly as you started taking the pins off Jane’s hair. “I’m yours.”

You weren’t really surprised the next day when entering the servant’s quarters, you heard one of the maids gossiping with the butler about how Alice had been fired by Mister Murdstone at sunrise.

It did pinch your heart a little to know you had lost a friend, but Jane was right, Alice had to learn the lesson. One mustn’t mess with another woman’s belongings, certainly not Jane Murdstone’s.

————————————————————————

tag list: @weemssapphic @larissaoftarthweems @principal-weems09 @readingtheentrails @catechristiesstuff @kimiinou @winterfireblond @im-a-carnivorous-plant

#gwendoline christie #jane murdstone x reader #jane murdstone #no beta we die like larissa #jane is a red flag but we’re colourblind #jealous women *sigh*#larissa weems x reader

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doomsday-dj · 4 days

Note

Yo. Bestie. Do you have any Rizzles author recommendations for me??

You have cruelly seduced me into this teeny-tiny-weeny fandom and now I have galloped my way through (almost) all of your brilliant body of work I am cast adrift and quickly finding out that "sort by kudos" simply does not bring up the goods here...

Help a gay out?

Oh fuck yeah, bestie. Yes. Do I ever!! I am about to WEAR OUT the link function. But before the recommendations: aw shucks and thank you and all that. Your comments this week have been a highlight. I'm sorry to have dragged you into this but hopefully this post makes up for it! I've been dabbling in some other fandoms lately, ones with a LOT of fics, and there's a lot of great writers out there, but I have to say that especially relative to how many fics there are, there's an outrageous amount of good writers who have written Rizzles.

Okay! So disclaimer that I’ve had a really ungodly amount of coffee today so if this is a little on the “un” side of hinged then I apologize. I am definitely gonna be REAL effusive. I was silly and shy about leaving comments and kudos when I first got on AO3 and now I make up for those crimes by being unabashedly keen.

I have gone and sorted by kudos (and, sidenote, discovered that I'm in the top 30????) and before I get to the under-appreciated bangers, I will say that plenty of my faves feature in the first two pages of sort by kudos (though their most kudosed work is almost never my fave one). Here I’m thinking of coolbyrne, @julieverne, DanteBeatrice77. All of these authors are awesome.

Also, amongst the highly kudosed works, Attachment by @performativezippers is a classic for in the fandom for good reason (and their Bachelor AU is a romp) and law of the lever by sharkfights is one of my favourites all time.

As for the other stuff, what do you WANT out of your fic, bestie?

You want the feelings? You want the beautifully written feelings? @ladyriot has got feelings FOR DAYS. If you want some one shots that will take you apart and put you back together, you’ve come to the right place. Good feelings, angsty feelings, all the feelings you need. My favourite is Let Our Hands Tell the Story but I recommend all of them. Mostly it's one shots but the one complete multi-chapter fic, Transference, is CRIMINALLY UNDERRATED. Less than 200 kudos?! Fuck all the way off. I don’t know if it’s because it’s an AU or if it’s because of the doctor/patient element but unless that’s a trigger, I promise you it it’s handled very artfully and also it’s fucking fiction and no patient’s rights were violated in the making of this fic. Oh and put your ink on my skin 'til it comes off on me is both devastating and stupid hot.

Haven’t had enough feelings?? Take your insufficiently battered heart over to @sideadde’s work. I especially like Who Needs Two Kidneys When Another Heart Can Be Had? and Immersion Therapy.

You want a big meaty casefic you can sink your teeth into?? Domini_porter’s CMYK is so goddamn good. The smutty chapters in this one are just...chef's kiss. Among my favourites all time. I am also entirely obsessed with their Victorian AU, which deserves more attention. Also if you want some crack-your-chest-open-and-pull-out-your-guts angst go alllll the way back to their first fics on AO3.

OH. @kurtsvonneslut too. I think and you cooled my mind that burned with longing is probably my favourite post-finale type fic, bit of an AU with some major canon changes. They also have an excellent picking-up-from-the-Jane-and-Maura-season-2/3-break-up casefic, A Crime of Passion, and they wrote a devastating exploration of PTSD that just...oooof.

God, I could really just keep going and going. And this is just on AO3!!! I feel like I could do a whole part two of this that's just flagging all the best stuff that's back on ff.net. I might have to because this is already really long. But I'm stopping for now. Thanks for the BEST ASK.

*dramatic stage whisper* psssst do you want smut? I feel like I could also do a whole post on smut alone. Maybe later.

Note: I’ve tagged authors if their tumblr name is the same as their ao3 name, because I assume they’re okay with being found. If any of you would like to be untagged from the post just DM me and I’ll do that lickety split.

#rizzoli and isles #rizzles #rizzles fanfic #rizzoli and isles fanfiction #ask doomsday #love nothing more than talking fanfic #DM or ask me for recommendations ANY TIME

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jebewonmorelike · 1 year

Text

I Didn't Think You Had It In You

(part one - "devil by the whiteboard") wc: 5k (i'm so sorry, longest one yet i've gotta chill but it's WORTH IT I PROMISE) pronouns: none used; n/a warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, some mean!hanbin and some infatuated!hanbin :) also this one's funnier than the last one warnings for alternate ending: suggestive/mature content - minors dni!! (link to it is *in* the fic for proprer conext/placement) summary: studentbodypresident!hanbin is majorly regretting the grief he's put introvertedrival!reader through for their entire academic career. i wonder how he'll try to make it up them... ~masterlist~ ♡ ~kofi (no pressure at all)~ *edited to say that... i edited this haha and it should be free of errors now* FINALLY DONE. PART TWO OF MY MASTERPIECE. lmaoooo. omg super secret surprise ending; my first attempt at such. hope you read both endings tho bc i really like them both :) love y'alllllll gonna go to bed now that i've marathon wrote this for 5 hours!

“WHAT!?” You shout, the shock of the words that just echoed through the hallway nearly knocking the air out of your lungs as you whip around to face the boy who uttered them.

You expect to see him smirking back at you, eyes taunting and mean. But what you find instead appears to be a look of surprise somewhat mirroring your own.

"You heard me that time, too," Hanbin responds quietly, averting your gaze.

You stare at the boy in front of you for a while, desperately trying to fill your lungs back up with the air you had lost. But the more oxygen you take in, the more anger you feel brewing in your blood. Abruptly, you start to walk back to where Hanbin stands in the middle of the hallway and the closer you get, the wider his eyes grow.

Only a few inches away from him now, Hanbin is staring back at you unblinkingly and you swear his cheeks are redder than they normally are. Without thinking, your hands reach up and connect with his chest--

Hanbin stumbles back as you push him, lips parting in surprise despite the lack of force behind your shove. Your hands remain on his chest as shock at your own actions suddenly renders you immobile.

Your face is mere centimeters from his for the second time tonight, both of you staring at each other; unsure what to do next. Hanbin coughs first, the tips of his ears now matching the scarlet of his cheeks. He places his hands on top of yours and removes them from his chest wordlessly.

You're positive that your cheeks are heating up now, too. You take a shaky breath before managing to clumsily demand, “What’s... What's wrong with you!? Why would I ever go out with you!?”

You watch as Hanbin's expression suddenly shifts, the condescending look returning to his eyes. “Maybe so you’d finally have someone to eat lunch with other than the collector’s edition of Jane Eyre.”

You frown, suddenly uneasy that Hanbin must have seen you alone in the library during lunch before. You wondered what other observations he was sitting on until it was the right time to shame you with them. Quietly, you lie, "I have people to eat lunch with."

"The Bronte Sisters don't count," he says with a smirk.

You swallow the lump in your throat that's starting to build. "I don't need anyone to eat lunch with."

"Hey, it's okay," he coos mockingly. "No need to cry. You cry enough during lunch as it is."

"You are such a bastard," you spit, watching as Hanbin's eyes seem to light up at the fire igniting in you once more. "Even if I wanted someone to eat lunch with, what gives you the audacity to suggest that that someone should be you!?"

He's just staring at you again, but his expression now seems to be one of awe rather than blank shock— though it's unrecognizable to you with white hot rage clouding your vision.

"You are a despicable human being, Hanbin. You're a liar; you're a phony. And now you've even become a cheat! You have never caused me to feel anything other than annoyance, anger and, tonight, disdain. But now..."

Hanbin's eyebrows raise slightly as he waits for you to continue.

"Now I can't help but pity you, too. Would it really have been so bad if my team won the Decathlon? Is your ego that fragile that you'd rather sabotage all of your integrity than to fail publicly? I feel so bad for you that you'd risk ruining your entire reputation in some misguided attempt to save it."

"I wasn't--," he says quietly, but you cut him off and he doesn't protest.

"I let you push me around, because I thought it was in everybody's best interest. But now that I've watched you stoop so low, I'm not making excuses anymore," you say, determinedly. "So, after I've said all this, I'll ask again: why would I ever want to go out with you, Sung Hanbin?"

It takes awhile for a response to appear on Hanbin's face and, once it does, you're a bit shaken at how unrecognizable it is. He seems to notice how you're looking at him and clears his throat before forcing himself to laugh in offense.

“I was just joking! No need to be so—… Why would I ever want to go out with you? Like I'm not way out of your league," he rambles haughtily, shaking his head in disbelief. "I just thought it might make joining my team seem like a better idea by comparison.”

"Well, it didn't," you declare, knowing there had to have been a motive behind Hanbin's words but still feeling a bit foolish for having almost considered believing them. "I'm not joining Blue Team next year. And now I don't think I'll be joining any team next year."

"What!?" Hanbin exclaims, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "What do you mean you're not joining a team next year? You love Decathlon!"

You smile sadly. "I do. It's too bad you had to go and ruin it."

"I didn't know that you wouldn't--," he starts, fumbling his sentence and starting again as if he's panicking. "I didn't want you to quit! (Y/N), that's not--."

"I really hope you're happy now that you got what you wanted, Hanbin," you cut him off, making your way back to the exit doors and throwing them open. Over your shoulder, you call:

"You win!"

“If I had a penny for every time I caught you reading this book…”

The sudden voice startles you, your collector’s edition of Jane Eyre falling from your hands and onto the table. The book shuts closed before you have a chance to mark the page you’re on.

“Oh,” Hanbin mumbles awkwardly. “Sorry.”

You open the book back up, quickly flipping to the page and placing your bookmark in it before setting it back down.

“I guess you would have every page memorized by now,” Hanbin says with a laugh.

You frown at him suspiciously. “What do you want?”

“I don’t want anything except to have lunch with you,” he says smiling ear-to-ear, before glancing at your book. “And Miss Bronte, of course.”

You roll your eyes, picking up your sandwich for the first time since you sat down. “Well we both would rather gauge our eyes out than make small talk with you.”

“Oh, ouch,” Hanbin says as he bites his lip in a smirk. “Should I call your bluff?”

You pick up the spoon for your yogurt, immediately raising it to your eye before Hanbin reaches out in a panic and wraps his hand around yours. He lowers your hand that’s holding the spoon back down to the table with a nervous laugh.

“You’re a funny one, aren’t you?” Hanbin asks rhetorically, nodding as he pops off the lid to his soup and spoons it into his mouth. “This is nice! Why haven’t we done this before?”

Your face scrunches up in confusion. “Because I hate you.”

“No, we hate each other,” he corrects, eating another spoonful of soup. “Friendship is a two-way street.”

You choke a bit on your sandwich, coughing to clear your throat before exclaiming, “We are NOT friends!”

“But we could be,” Hanbin muses far-too happily. “Wouldn’t that be great?”

“No,” you answer plainly.

“It would be better than what we are now, right? Think about it: we would be a pretty unstoppable duo!”

“I wouldn't be your friend even if you paid me,” you spit. “And I know you’re really into paying people to get what you want lately.”

“Oh please, that was so three days ago,” Hanbin sighs exasperatedly. “Things were so much easier when you didn’t have a backbone. I pay to win one competition and you’re suddenly acting like you didn’t used to do everything I told you to?”

“I told you I’m not letting you push me around anymore,” you say definitively.

He smirks. “I just don’t really believe you…”

Your hand wraps around your spoon again, hurtling toward your right eyeball as Hanbin’s eyes widen in sudden fear. His hand reaches out to grab yours again, bringing it back down to the table in awkward silence.

“Please stop trying to impale yourself at the lunch table,” Hanbin requests quietly, attempting to steady his breathing. "I'll do anything you want, just do not make me have to carry your eyeball in my soup cup to the nurse's office."

You blink back at him. "Anything?"

"Oh, uh..." Hanbin says, clearly surprised that you clung onto his plea. "Did you want something... from me?"

You sigh, eating another spoonful of yogurt. "I have a proposal for Student Government."

"Oh sure, if you send it to me I can put my name on it and sign it," he says with a nod.

"No," you respond quickly.

"No? What do you--?"

"It's mine," you announce, placing your spoon down. "It's my proposal and it really means a lot to me and... I want everyone to know it's mine."

Hanbin looks at you curiously for a moment before a small smile graces his lips. He blinks at you as he whispers, "Cute."

"What?" You ask, one eyebrow raising in confused shock.

The boy in front of you's eyes widen for a moment before he shakes his head nonchalantly and looks down into his soup. "I meant, it's cute you think you'll be able to pitch it without puking..."

"I want you to pitch it," you respond, glaring back at him. "I know I can't make a speech to save my life. But people always like my words best when they come out of your mouth anyway."

Hanbin's eyes are doe-like as his lips form into a little surprised pout.

"So, could you pitch my proposal to the Student Council for me?" You ask, chewing your cheek. "All I want this time is the credit. It's really important to me so... I just..."

"Okay," he agrees, nodding gently. "I can do that."

You blink back at him. "Really?"

"Sure, I can help you," Hanbin says, before adding with a smirk:

"We're friends now, after all."

You take your seat at the far right of the Officers’ Table, adjusting your name plaque after neatly tucking your bag under your chair. It’s been two weeks since the last Student Government meeting and you are incredibly excited about the new proposal you’ve drawn up in support of increased mental health services on campus. You have to admit you’re glad that Hanbin had agreed to make the pitch speech for you.

“I’m excited to hear your proposal!” Stephanie, the Student Council Treasurer, says as she sits down next to you. “Are you nervous to pitch it? I know that public speaking is not your strong suit.”

Your eyebrows furrow confusedly at her question. “What do you mean? I’m not pitching it. Hanbin is.”

“Oh, um…” She smiles at you awkwardly. “Proposals can only be pitched by the member that created them! Those are the rules. I thought you knew that.”

“But I write Hanbin’s—…” You cut yourself off before you expose the Student Body President to the Treasurer. Your proposal is something you are terribly proud of and you want everyone to know it’s yours! But to find out now, only minutes away from the beginning of the meeting, that you’d have to be the one to present it to the entirety of the Student Government… Your vision is already burring with anxiety. All you can muster in response to Stephanie is, “Oh, okay.”

Completely frozen in fear, you’re only pulled out of your dissociative state when Stephanie taps you on the shoulder. She nods at you, gesturing with her hands for you to stand up. You scan the room, surprised when you realize it’s filled with the members of Student Government and that you must’ve zoned out for the entire first half of the meeting.

“Wait—,” Hanbin interjects from where he sits on the other side of Stephanie. He frowns at you confusedly, continuing, “I thought I was reading (Y/N)’s proposal…”

Hyungjun, the Vice President, laughs on Hanbin’s left. “Pretending he doesn’t know the rules. This guy!”

Hanbin’s eyes widen as he glances at the other Officers, unsure of how to react.

“It’s (Y/N)’s proposal,” Stephanie thankfully elaborates. “So, obviously, (Y/N) has to pitch it. And breaking that rule is immediate grounds for a dismissal vote.”

“Oh,” Hanbin mumbles, slowly nodding as he must be considering— just as you had— how many times he should’ve had a dismissal vote called on him by now. “Obviously.”

“So, (Y/N), if you’ll please,” Hyungjun prompts, nodding his head for you to stand up and recite your proposal. You're positive that all the oxygen has left the classroom as you shakily rise to your feet.

Gathering your proposal paper in your hand, you stare at the words on the page-- suddenly rendered illiterate by the amount of fear coursing through your body. Your breathing is shallow and thin and you wonder how long it will take before you've fainted from the anxiety.

"Um, the--... the, um, proposal I am sharing today," you begin; the nervous stammering you always developed when forced to address a crowd rearing it's ugly and reliable head. "Is about--... Or, well, it's to address... It's to help fix the campus's lack of rental mealth hesources."

"Oh god," you hear Hanbin whisper under his breath as you completely flub your words. All of the Student Council members are now chuckling at your mistake as you shake your head quickly, trying to refocus yourself so you can continue.

"There's--... Um, there's plenty of evidence that," you say, eyes locked on your paper as you attempt to make sense of the proposal you'd written which now appears as nothing more to you than a page full of gibberish. "That... That this school... That it's--..."

"Is this a joke?" A Student Council member shouts from the back of the classroom, as you resign yourself to a mere dear in headlights. "Aren't you embarrassed? You're the Student Government Secretary and you can't even form a coherent sentence?"

"HEY!" An angry voice booms to your left as you try to force down the bile that's currently stinging your esophagus. The sudden shout jolts you back to awareness as you look to see who it came from.

"Do you want to leave?" Hanbin threatens, jaw set in an uncharacteristic public display of fury. "Would you care to explain how bullying a Student Government Officer is at all in line with your duty as a Council Member?"

The student's eyes widen as he stares back at the Student Body President in shock. "I--... I--..."

"Look who can't form a coherent sentence now," Hanbin says with a smirk. A few moments pass before Hyungjun clears his throat, causing Hanbin to remember where he is. He looks around at the room apprehensively before standing and bowing sheepishly to the rest of the Student Council.

"I'm so sorry for the disrespectful outburst," he apologizes, voice returning to its usual "perfect" tone and the dimples beneath his eyes cratering as he smiles embarrassedly. "But as Student Body President, I simply can't condone bullying. Especially of one of our Officers, who is..."

Hanbin finally looks at you, his eyes suspiciously genuine. He averts your gaze awkwardly after just a moment, turning back to address the rest of the Student Council members. "Who is the best Student Government Secretary I could've ever asked for. And whom unfortunately, has a terrible fear of public speaking."

You watch as the crowd of students begin to look down at their hands and their laps guiltily.

"(Y/N) has had incredible ideas for this school," Hanbin starts, his eyebrows raising when he remembers he can't actually mention all of the ideas you've had for this school-- as he had always been the one to pitch them and, in turn, pass them off for his own. He recovers, "That have never been heard by us before due to (Y/N)'s fear of public speaking! And it's a shame that on (Y/N)'s first attempt to show them to us, you responded with bullying and ridicule."

The students in the classroom are now all doe-eyed as they take in Hanbin's words and, as you realize what's going on, you have to suppress a laugh.

"Incredible," you whisper, shaking your head in disbelief at the boy that is Sung Hanbin.

"I think we should all treat each other with the utmost respect and kindness-- especially as members of the Student Government. And this, coincidentally, plays into (Y/N)'s proposal about mental health resources at our school," Hanbin continues, doing what he does best. "I think we should move to vote on this proposal immediately."

"You're right, Sunbaenim!" The same student that had hurled insults at you earlier agrees enthusiastically as he stands up from his seat, eyes practically turning to hearts as they gaze upon Hanbin. "We need to provide more anti-bullying and mental health resources for our students. I'm so glad you came up with this brilliant proposal!"

"Oh, I didn't! I--," Hanbin starts to correct, but you already know how this ends as you sit back down in your seat with a heavy sigh.

"What would we do without our shining Student Body President?" Another student calls, starting a round of applause for Hanbin.

You observe him quietly, watching as any signs of protest slowly leave his face. He smiles resignedly back at his peers, clasping his hands together to nod graciously at them as the other Officers join in on the applause as well.

Even when Sung Hanbin tried to help you, it all ended up falling perfectly back into his lap anyway.

"What page are we on now?"

You groan, slamming your book down on the table. "Is this going to be a pattern? Do I have to eat lunch in the bathroom from now on?"

"Not my ideal place to eat lunch, but," he pauses, placing his hands down flat on the table with a smile. "I'll brave it for you."

You pick up your collector's edition of Jane Eyre and drop it on his right hand.

He presses his lips together firmly, looking up to the corner of the room as he tries to ignore the pain. "Okay, I know yesterday didn't go like we'd hoped, but--."

"Like I hoped," you correct, shaking your head in disgust. "I asked you to read my proposal for me. And everyone just ended up pretending like it was yours anyway. And you went along with it!"

"Well--."

"Where is the 'we' in any of that?" You cut him off quickly, watching as his brow furrows. "There is no we. You stole my proposal; just like you stole the Decathlon."

Hanbin stares at you silently for a moment, before responding softly, "I'm sorry."

"Sure you are."

"I am!" He pleads and you hate to admit that he appears earnest. "Really, I didn't mean for that to happen. I stuck up for you when that asshole made fun of you! It's not like I didn't do anything at all."

You stare back at Hanbin wordlessly. He had stood up in front of the entire Student Council to scold that stupid kid in your defense. You'd never seen him get angry in front of people like that before. He'd always cared too much about his perfect, clean image.

"I want to make it up to you," he says with a nod. "So I have a proposal for you."

"Is it the one you stole from me?" You deadpan.

He sighs exasperatedly. "Shut up and let me tell you I have a spot for you on the Blue Team for the rest of this semester!"

You blink back at him in surprise. "What?"

"You deserve to win Scholastic Decathlon at least once, (Y/N)," Hanbin says with a smile. "And if you're really not gonna compete again next year then let me make it happen this season."

"Hanbin..." You falter, brow furrowing suspiciously. "Y-... your team is full."

"I told you there's always a spot for you," he rebuts quickly. "Ilsung's been pretty annoying recently anyway. Didn't you hear what he said about you at Regionals?"

Sighing annoyedly, you take a sip of your iced tea. "Hanbin, I can't join your team."

"Why not?" He whines, folding his hands on the table and resting his chin on them. "You'd be doing me a really big favor!"

"Aren't you the one whose supposed to be doing me a favor?"

Hanbin blinks up at you, pouting in a sickening display of cuteness. "Pleeeeaaase..."

"If you don't stop that right now, I will shove this entire bottle of tea UP your--."

"I'd like to see you try."

It's been a week since Hanbin had asked you to join the Blue Team for the remainder of the season. Since then, "Hanbin's" Student Government proposal regarding mental health resources on campus has passed three student votes and, today, a school-wide assembly is taking place to celebrate the proposal and the Student Body President's exceptional efforts.

Your moral obligation to your Secretary duties coming before your feelings, you had written Hanbin's speech for this afternoon just like you always did.

It has also been a week and a day since Hanbin started eating lunch with you in the library. No matter how hard you tried to bully him into leaving you alone to your collector's edition of Jane Eyre (or how hard you smacked him with various items from your lunchbox), your efforts were in vain.

Hanbin had no intentions of ceasing your "lunch dates", as he called them (always prompting you to hit him once more). He'd flinched at first when Hyungjun and Stephanie walked up to the both of you last Friday, face flushing when they asked him what he was doing eating lunch with you.

But just as soon as that fear of being perceived as imperfect appeared, it subsequently faded away.

"A President and his Secretary notoriously make a pretty good duo, don't you think?" He'd said with an innocent smile.

Hyungjun and Stephanie looked at each other confusedly, of course interpreting Hanbin's words to imply something different than he'd meant.

"Oh! Oh no," Hanbin had clarified quickly, raising his hands in defense. "I meant, as... I meant as friends!"

Hyungjun and Stephanie had nodded quickly before excusing themselves and running out of the library.

"This is why I have to curate all of your words for you," you had said, rolling your eyes at him.

But no matter how much you outwardly displayed your dislike of Hanbin's presence during your lunch period... you'd be lying if you said you hadn't started to get used to him bothering you with his company.

Perhaps you'd even started to like it.

So now, as Hanbin stands behind the tall, wooden podium in the center of the gymnasium delivering the speech you wrote for him, you stand at the back of the gym and observe him carefully. He really is a great public speaker-- every word you've written for him coming to life on his tongue.

But there's a sentence he utters that suddenly catches your attention as you realize he's no longer referencing the paper in front of him.

“The truth is… I didn’t write this proposal,” Hanbin confesses, a wave of confused and shocked whispers sounding across the room. Your stomach churns as you hang onto his every word.

He swallows nervously, before continuing, “And, furthermore, I also haven’t written any of the proposals or speeches that I’ve given during my time as Student Body President. Secretary (Y/N) has written all of them.”

Horrified, you look around the room as everyone’s eyes come to rest on you. Desperately resisting the urge to curl up into a ball and die, your focus remains locked on Hanbin.

“I'm so sorry to disappoint all of my peers and teachers, but I needed to tell the truth as it's the right thing to finally do,” he continues, nodding affirmatively. “And I also have something to say about the Scholastic Decathlon. The only reason the Blue Team won Regionals this year is because—.”

“Because you’re such an incredible team!” You shout, standing up suddenly and instantly regretting it. Hanbin’s eyes meet yours immediately, his eyebrows raised in shock at your sudden outburst. But there’s no going back now.

Walking up to the stage quickly as you do your best to dissociate, you push Hanbin aside when you reach the podium. “Hi, everyone. I’m so sorry for the confusion, but Hanbin is actually quite under-the-weather. He’s so dedicated to his role as Student Body President that he still wanted to deliver his speech today even with a fever. We pumped him full of ibuprofen, but…”

You turn to Hanbin, who is staring at you as if you have two heads. You touch the back of your hand to his forehead and put on the performance of your lifetime as you dote over him. “Oh my gosh, he’s burning up! You poor thing.”

“What are you doing? I was gonna—,” Hanbin protests, but you cut him off by stepping on his foot behind the podium. He seethes at the pain, glaring at you as you continue to save his ass.

“Unfortunately Hanbin is very sick, so he’s not really making much sense. I’m sure he will apologize for the confusion when he’s feeling better,” you conclude, grabbing Hanbin by the arm. “I’ll bring him to the nurse’s office now.”

As you drag a flabbergasted Hanbin through the crowd and out the gymnasium doors, you march down the hallway and into an empty classroom. Pulling him inside, you lock the door behind him quickly and shove him up against it a bit more aggressively than you’d intended.

“Are you CRAZY!?” You shout, hands balled up in his dress shirt as he gawks back at you wordlessly.

“Are YOU!?” He shouts back, eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. “(Y/N), what are you doing? I was trying to tell everybody the truth!”

“WELL, STOP IT!!”

Hanbin’s cheeks flush pink as he looks at your hands fisted up in his white-button down. He’s entirely flustered by your uncharacteristic display of force. “W—… What?”

Dropping your hands to your sides, you repeat, “Stop it before you ruin your fucking life, you absolute moron!”

“I—… Isn’t that what you want?" He asks confusedly. "I was terrible to you. Don’t you want me to pay for what I did?”

“What I wanted was to finally win Decathlon fair and square. And to have my name on my own stupid proposals and speeches for once.”

“But… I’m the one who made sure none of that happened. You even said you were gonna quit Decathlon next year because of me," Hanbin protests. "Come on, you have to want me to face some sort of serious consequence!”

“Hanbin! What’s… Why are you doing this!?" You exclaim, stepping back from the boy. "Do you want me to join the Blue Team that bad? You won't even be allowed back on it if you tell everybody the truth.”

He shakes his head quickly. “No, of course not!”

“Then what’s the deal, huh? I know it’s something. Do you seriously expect me to believe that you really just feel sorry for everything that's ever happened between us all of a sudden?”

“It’s not… It’s not all of a sudden. I—…” Now Hanbin is giving you a run for your money as the worst stammering mess. “I’ve been sorry ever since you said that you…”

Growing impatient, you demand, “Since I said that I what!?”

“That you were disappointed in me!” He shouts under pressure— his lips parting slightly as he sharply inhales at his own words.

You blink back at him, eyes just as wide as his. “I said that?”

He nods slowly. “You—… you leaned towards me and with all of this fire in your eyes, you told me that you were disappointed in me. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

"I don't remember," you say as you swallow nervously-- the tone of Hanbin's voice almost daring you to think he might’ve meant something more. “To be honest, I was so mad that I… I sort of blacked out.”

He smiles now, genuinely and the cute under-eye dimples that are reserved for public events are now on display only for you. You’d be lying if you said they didn’t make you feel some type of way in this unexpectedly intimate moment. “I’m not surprised. You also called me a ‘cheating asshole’ and a ‘self-righteous prick’.”

You press your lips together, slightly embarrassed before mumbling, “You deserved it.”

“I did!” He agrees a little too enthusiastically. “I deserve worse, actually.”

“Hanbin…”

(super secret spicy alternate ending 🌶️ HERE 🌶️-- minors do not view/interact; just continue reading below!! also pls read bothhhhh if you are of age hahaha if you want no pressure but pressure)

“Come on, (Y/N)— I’m everything you said I am and more,” he says, biting his lip. “So why shouldn’t everybody know what you know?”

“Because I already forgave you, you dumbass!”

Hanbin’s mouth is already open to protest, but when he actually hears your words it shuts tightly. His head tilts to the side innocently in a questioning gaze. "You did?"

You sigh. "Yes. I mean, you've done a lot to try to make everything up to me. And I let you keep eating lunch with me, didn't I?"

The boy in front of you's lips part in surprise before he finally grins. "I knew you liked eating lunch with me more than Jane Eyre!"

You roll your eyes, trying and failing to hold back a grin of your own. "Any more unkind words towards Jane and we're kicking you out of the lunch club."

He laughs and you notice for the first time how beautifully joy manifests on his face. But his expression quickly becomes more serious once again. "I really am sorry, (Y/N). For everything. I've been awful to you for way too long and... I can't tell you how much I regret it. It turns out I actually really like you!"

Your jaw drops at his sudden confession and... so does his.

"As a person!" He exclaims, holding both hands up in defense as he laughs awkwardly. "I meant, as a person. You know phrasing's not my strong suit."

Cheeks heating up, you nod understandingly though you hate to admit his words had your heart racing.

Hanbin's lips press together in a dimpled smile. "So... does this mean you'll join the Blue Team for the rest of the year?"

You pucker your lips for a moment as you think, before answering definitively, "No. I could never betray my Pink Team like that."

He bites his lip, nodding sadly in agreement at your sentiment. Reaching for the door handle and unlocking it, your eyes reconnect with Hanbin's. In the end, he'd gone through all this effort just to make things right-- more than you'd ever expected him to do for you.

And the tiny frown on his face isn't helping to convince you to leave him empty-handed.

"But if I remember correctly," you add, your hand falling from the door knob to your side as you muster up all of the courage hiding deep within you. "You also pitched me an alternative."

Hanbin's eyes narrow in confusion before they suddenly light up, lips parted in shock.

"So maybe we can graduate from 'lunch dates' to a real date some time," you say, and it's not a question. Hanbin just stands there, grinning like an absolute idiot. "How does that sound?"

"Good," he says, nodding rapidly. "It sounds good."

"Good," you affirm, opening the door of the classroom. "Now let's get out of here..."

Hanbin follows you into the hallway, still smiling like he just won the lottery.

"Stop looking so happy," you say, smacking his shoulder playfully. "You're about to have to go to the nurse's office and fake the worst flu of your fucking life."

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agathaandbrienneslesbian · 9 months

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Love-Letters

Jane Murdstone x Fem!Maid!Reader

Hiyaaaa I've finally finished my Jane murdstone fic and it's the first fic I'll upload on Tumblr so...

Big thank you to my freinds for proof reading this mess :3

Disclaimer: English is not my first language!

Warnings: SMUT 18+, minors DNI

Authors note: Just because we love our red flag on legs. Smutty fanfic of Female Reader Maid and Jane Murdstone. Secrets, Love confessions, (kinda) soft Jane, top! Jane, bottom! Reader.

Words: 4’000+

Ao3 Link

Taglist

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The second you saw her in the maid's quarters, holding a stack of notes in her hand and glaring at you, you knew you were royally fucked. There she stood. The object of your (very questionable) affection, Jane Murdstone. You knew you shouldn’t like her, but you couldn’t help yourself. There was just something enchanting about the way she carried herself.

Jane Murdstone, who has been terrorising you for so many months, ever since she set foot in your Lady's manor and made you her personal maid.

THE Miss Murdstone who, as soon as you laid eyes on her, burned her beautiful image in your mind and heart, making it impossible to forget her icy blue eyes, the pale ivory skin, or her soft long black tresses you so gladly brushed out each morning and evening. And even though everyone else feared the Iron Lady, you saw a gentler, more vulnerable side of her, you saw behind the facade, and that's what made you fall for that woman.

However, this Jane Murdstone was now marching up to you at a dangerous pace, her eyes narrow and unreadable. A shiver went down your spine, as soon as she stood towering in front of you in all her stoic beauty, looking down at your small and weak form.

“What is this?” She asked through gritted teeth, wiggling the loose notes in front of your face. Confused, you focused on the pages in her hand, and your heart dropped. She was holding the poems and love letters you’d written about her in secret. The only way to confront your feelings towards her and the biggest secret you’ve harboured in your boring little life as a maid. Have you forgotten to put them away? You are usually so careful, but this time it must have slipped your mind. Fear rose in you and you swallowed dryly.

“I- I don’t know my Lady.” You answer, trying to sound as clueless as you possibly could with the amount of panic and fear rushing through your veins. Miss Murdstone, of course, picked up on the slight quiver in your voice. She was like a bloodhound when it came to sniffing out fear and lies. You didn’t dare look at her, as you were sure disgust and discontent would colour Jane’s ivory features.

“Lies,” She hissed and gripped your chin painfully, moving your head so you had no other choice but to make eye contact with her. The second your eyes met hers, your fear mixed with confusion. She looked… Hurt? Afraid? Angry? The stoic Iron Lady was portraying emotions you have never seen on her face, or at least emotions she would never dare show anyone.

“I know you wrote those letters and poems. What were you hoping to achieve with that? Have you planned for me to find them? To mock me? To get under my skin? What is it?” She barked at you, anger rising in her throat. How could you? Your eyes softened as you recognised what she felt. Pain. But… Why would your poems and letters, which describe her otherworldly beauty and confess your true and raw feelings for her cause pain?

“My Lady I-”

“Save it,” She grunted and shoved you to the side, leaving you stumbling to the ground.

“I do not need to remind you of your place in this household, do I? If you should ever as much as THINK of trying to get under my skin again with such childish mockery, I WILL have you thrown out. And that is a promise!” She stormed off towards the direction of her study and you followed suit, unsure of what to do or say but you wanted to tell her, tell her that you were not mocking her but that every word you wrote is true. Tell her that you, indeed, have lost yourself in her sparkling blue orbs, that you longed to run your fingers through her raven black locks, that you desired to feel what her soft and pink lips feel on your own. How endearing her little quirks and laughs were when she was relaxed, reading a book whilst you helped her get ready for the day. You wanted to tell her all of this and so much more, but you knew it wasn’t right.

The moment she entered her study, you could hear the sizzling of the flames in the fireplace grow louder. Was she… no… You rushed in only to freeze in place, watching with horror and dismay as she had thrown your notes, the declaration of your undying devotion and love for her, into the blazing flames.

“And you…” She turned to look at you, an enraged expression etched into her face, obscuring her usually so beautiful features, causing the little faint scar on her upper lip to become very noticeable.

“I do not wish to have you anywhere near me ever again! You clearly have gotten way too comfortable, thinking I wouldn’t notice your disrespect towards me. Now get out… Get. OUT!” Jane was fuming with anger. She thought you might have been different, kinder, but you were just like everyone else.

You didn’t know what to say, simply looking at the dancing flames consuming your thoughts and feelings. You didn’t dare look at her anymore and simply turned around to leave the study, feeling numb and empty. The walk to your chamber felt long and treacherous with a million thoughts running through your head, yet it was blank at the same time. You were sure, that night was the worst night of your entire existence. You felt heartbroken and worried about what was going to happen now that she knew you craved the fairer sex. Not once were you able to close your eyes, as the haunting image of her face lined with hurt and betrayal presented itself to you as soon as you did.

Of course, you were hoping for this to be a bad dream, but the next morning, Mr. Murdstone, her brother, informed you of your new position as a kitchen maid. And that’s where you were to remain, not once being able to see Jane’s face or hear her voice. No matter how much pain it caused you to see her that night, it hurt even more not being able to see her at all. You even caught yourself sneaking out of the kitchen and through the manor just to, hopefully, accidentally bump into her but luck wasn’t on your side. The other maids kept complaining about Miss Murdstones temper. Every maid who was assigned to her hasn’t lasted for more than a day. Each and every one of them has come back to the maids quarters either furious, spitting vile comments about your beloved Lady, or sobbing but not once were you asked to return to your original position as Jane’s personal maid. You had almost given up on ever being able to see her again, that was until one morning Mr. Murdstone entered the kitchen, looking for you.

“Y/n?” He called out for you, causing all the other maids working in the kitchen to turn around and face you with curiosity. Some have already started whispering and gossiping as soon as you were released from your role as Miss Murdstone’s personal maid. But this… This must have been even worse. You felt helpless.

“Yes, Sir?” You set the soap aside and dried your hands on your apron as you turned around, bowing lightly. The feeling of so many eyes on you was uncomfortable. You only wanted one pair of eyes on you but the person whose icy blue diamonds belonged to didn’t want you around anymore.

“My sister is in need of assistance and none of the other maids are currently at disposal. Now I know for some reason she has asked me to remove you as her personal maid. However, I do not know why nor do I care to find out. I trust you have enough time to spare?” He looked at you, waiting for a reply. Was this really happening? Have you heard correctly? Anxiety rose in your chest, you took a deep breath nodding lightly.

“Of course, Sir.” Your answer was quiet. This seemed to suffice as he just turned around without another word and left. Miss Murdstone might be known for her iron status but it was her brother you feared more than anyone in this household. Nervously you took your kitchen apron off and put your regular apron on, making your way down the hall and up the stairs to Jane’s chambers. You tucked a strand of hair, which had fallen out of your braid when changing the apron, behind your ear and knocked, waiting for her to call you in.

Once you heard her calling you in, you opened the door and entered. Closing the door again behind you, you saw her sitting at her vanity still in her nightgown. She hadn’t noticed you yet and was focused on unbraiding her hair - that beautiful silky raven hair. With careful steps, you walked towards her, standing behind her and grabbing the brush on the table to start brushing through her locks. Jane was too busy rummaging through her vanity drawer to look up at you but she did notice a change of maid.

“Finally someone who knows how to use a hairbrush correctly. All the other maids were klutzes.” She murmured, more to herself than to you, then she looked up and froze.

“What are you doing here? I thought I was clear enough with my demands to have you out of my face.” She spat and moved to grip your wrist, stopping you from brushing out her hair. You jumped at her reaction. Her grip was tight and it was starting to hurt.

“None of the other maids are available, my Lady, so Sir Murdstone has asked me to come and assist you” You replied, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible to avoid any further irritation. She huffed and let go of your hand, glaring at you poisonously through the mirror. After a few seconds and a deep breath later, you continued with your ministrations, not wanting to look at her. It felt weird, really. You were with your Lady again but it did not feel right…

“So you’re back to disrespecting me? Were the letters and poems not enough of a mockery for you?” She averted her eyes but you could see that the expression of hurt was back. Your heart clenched with pain seeing her in such emotional distress.

“It was never my intention to mock you, my Lady.” You state quietly, watching her reaction carefully. There was a soft flicker of something unfamiliar on her face. Only for a split second, then it was gone again.

“Then what was your intention?” Jane looked at you again with a dangerous stare. Would you dare tell her? Before you could answer she continued, “I do not know how or when you discovered my affection for the fairer sex but by god, I know you were planning on using it against me. So what was your intention?”

Wait.. what? You stopped your movements and looked at her in disbelief. She just rolled her eyes at your reaction and huffed impatiently, crossing her arms over her chest and looking away. It took a second or two for you to collect your thoughts again before you spoke, carefully.

“My Lady… My intentions were nothing but pure.” You start carefully, watching her as her icy blue orbs shoot to look at you. There it was again. That flicker you’ve seen before.

“I can assure you that all of the things I have written are true. I know it is frowned upon but who am I to deny my heart the freedom to feel, to long for.” You gently put the brush down and move to Jane’s side, kneeling on the ground in front of her and looking up at her. Jane’s body has visibly relaxed but her facial expression was unreadable.

“It might not be right, not only because we are women but because I am just a simple maid and you are my Lady… but I simply cannot deny the feelings I have developed for you…”

“You’re… Are you true, y/n?” Jane asked quietly, almost in a whisper. It was obvious to you that she tried to look unbothered but yet she has never seemed so small and fragile as she has in this very moment and you wanted nothing more but to hold her hands, reassuring her of your feelings. Still, you decided to keep your distance, giving her only a curt nod as an answer.

“But… I have been nothing but vicious to you… how,” she looked down into your eyes, hers shining with uncertainty and guilt.

“So you have… But I have also seen you at your most relaxed state, right here braiding your hair, and I felt you were not as cruel as you portray yourself to be. My Lady… It was never my intention to cause you pain or disrespect you, I simply didn’t know where to go with my feelings. I wrote them down because I couldn’t tell you. I wasn’t sure if you felt the same and-” Soft lips suddenly pressed against yours, stopping you in the middle of your sentence. A hand gently placed on your cheek pulled you closer and instinctively your eyes closed shut. To say that she took you by surprise was an understatement. You carefully moved your hand to find her other and squeezed it lightly. An affirmation for the both of you. This caused Jane to deepen the kiss, her lips moving against yours in a heated frenzy of desire which you reciprocated gladly. You knelt there, basking in the affection she was willing to give to you and taking everything in before she evidently changed her mind.

When air became necessary you pulled away, looking up at Jane with a longing gleam in your eyes and heated red cheeks. She looked down at you, her face just as drunk with desire as yours. Chewing on her lower lip, she thought for a second then pulled you up with her. You followed her to her bed like a lovesick puppy, holding her hand tightly in yours, not willing to let go. The desire has spread south and you could feel the well-known warm sensation in your abdomen growing more and more. Jane turned around and looked at you, her eyes searching yours for any sign of regret or disgust but all she saw was you smiling up at her with the sweetest expression she has ever seen. Pure adoration. So there was actually someone who could adore her?

“Is this alright?” She asked as she pulled you closer, still a bit uncertain. Your heart almost burst out of your chest at the gentle nature of the Iron Lady.

“More than alright my La-”

“Jane. Please call me Jane.” She interrupted and your smile grew even more. She couldn't believe how you could look at her like that when she has never said a kind word to you in all the months you have worked for her. Jane wanted to make it right, treat you right and give you the affection she knew you deserved and craved and she was more than willing to give it to you.

“Okay… Jane.” Her name has never sounded so good before and Jane wanted to know in how many other ways her name could leave your lips. She sat down at the edge of the bed and pulled you in, to sit on her lap. You did so without hesitation and moved to cup her cheeks, leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. A reassuring tenderness she has never received from anyone before. Jane inhaled deeply at the gentle gesture and moved to hold onto your waist, pulling you into her. She needed you impossibly close. The first few kisses were soft and timid but they soon turned heated. Jane squeezed your waist which caused you to open your mouth in a silent inhale, allowing her to explore your mouth with her tongue. You battled with her for dominance but evidently gave up and let her take control, the thing she does best. Her hands started roaming your body, moving from your waist to your hips and your thighs. Your head was swimming in pure bliss.

A quiet noise escaped your lips as Jane moved her lips to your neck, attacking it with hot open-mouthed kisses and nips. Your hands instinctively shot into her hair, holding close onto her as she assaulted your soft skin with her delicate lips. You couldn’t take it anymore. The aching between your legs has gotten uncomfortably strong and you squirmed against her lap. Jane noticed and gently slid her hands under your dress, running her fingertips over your warm skin, whilst her kisses moved to your ear, gently nibbling on your earlobe.

“Jane… please,” You whimpered out pathetically for the stoic woman beneath you.

“What do you want me to do, my dove?” Jane husked in your ear and smirked as you responded with a strangled groan. She loved how you reacted to her touch, how you reacted to her words. Never would she have thought that she could have precious little you on her lap like this, pudding in her hands.

“N-need you… please,” You breathed out frustratedly, moving your hips towards hers instinctively. You needed her hands on you, all over you, needed her to relieve that ache between your legs. Jane chuckled and removed her hands from your legs, causing you to pout.

“Don’t get impatient, darling.” She smirked and moved to remove your apron and then started unbuttoning your uniform. You took this as a sign to unlace her nightgown, pushing it down her shoulders. Although you have seen Jane's bare chest before when you had helped her dress for the day or undress for bed, this was something completely different. Your eyes were trained on her soft ivory breasts as she finished unbuttoning your garments. She expertly pulled your uniform over your head and tossed it to the side, leaving you in your undergarments. Being way too impatient, you pull the fabric off of your head yourself. Jane smirked at how desperate you were and instantly started roaming your figure again with her hands. Her soft fingertips discover every dip and curve of your body, sending goosebumps over your skin.

“You are so beautiful.” Jane said with bated breath, immediately attaching her lips to one of your nipples. You inhaled sharply as she ran her tongue over the hardened bundle and then sucked it into her mouth again, releasing it with a plop. Without wasting a second, she gave the same attention to the other breast before sitting up straight again.

“Lie down.” She ordered, moving you off her lap. She stood up and watched you lie on her bed, her nightgown now pooling around her ankles, she stepped out of it and climbed in bed with you. Jane lay close to you and pulled you in for a kiss as her hands started roaming your body again, your own hands finding purpose in exploring hers.

You broke the kiss, gasping as you felt Jane run her finger through your soaked folds.

“My, my. Is all of this for me, darling?” She husked and watched your reaction closely, spreading the wetness around, focusing tiny circles on your very sensitive clit. You closed your eyes and inhaled sharply then let out a desperate whimper. Jane was mesmerised by the way your body reacted to her and it aroused her greatly. She teased your clit for a little while longer, watching you writhe and squirm under her. The little noises and pleas coming from your lips and the way you called out her name filled her with pride. It was addicting how she had barely touched you and you were already reacting so much to her.

“J- Jane please… please I need you- ah,” You bucked your hips against her in hopes of more friction. You were so desperate for relief and just wanted her to claim you as hers and who was Jane to refuse? She leaned in, capturing your lips with hers to silence your moan as she slowly pushed a digit into your aching hole. She managed to slip her finger in with ease and started moving it slowly. The feeling of her finger in you was enough to send your head spiralling. You moaned into her mouth and wrapped your arms around her neck, pulling her closer, causing her nude body to almost fully lay on top of you. The sensation of skin on skin had both of you shivering with arousal. She sped up her movements, as soon as she felt that you were ready and pulled away from the kiss, looking down at you lovingly.

“Darling I need you to be as quiet as you possibly can now… Do you think you can manage?” She asked, panting lightly. Her own arousal had started trickling down her thighs. You nodded and opened your mouth in a silent moan as she curled her finger into your sweet spot. Jane smiled and moved to kiss and suckle on your breasts again. The sensation of her finger moving in and out of you and her lips and tongue exploring your chest and stomach made you feel dizzy. She moved her kisses and kitten licks all the way down your body, never halting her movement with her hand until she was positioned between your legs.

Looking up at you, she placed a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss on your thigh, right next to your hot and wet core. Your back arched off the bed and you gripped the sheets, holding your breath before exhaling strongly. Jane moved her kisses closer to your centre, removing her finger and before you could protest she ran her tongue over the length of your folds, collecting the wetness which seeped from you.

She enclosed your clit with her lips and sucked lightly, having you bite your hand gently and groan so you wouldn’t make too much noise. She continued giving attention to your clit with her mouth, slipping two digits into your hole again to curl them upwards. Jane sped up her movements and you felt a knot build in your core. Staying quiet was getting more and more difficult as the tension grew stronger. Jane noticed your struggle to stay quiet. She felt your walls clench around her fingers and knew you were close. Her movements didn't stop, but she pulled away from your clit, reattaching her lips with yours to swallow the sweet noises you made for her.

“That’s it, my girl. You’re doing so well for me! Let go!” She panted against your lips, her praise sending you over the edge with her name on your lips. Jane helped you ride out your orgasm before pulling her fingers out and holding them to your lips. You understood immediately and licked her fingers clean, groaning at your taste on them. Jane watched you intently, pulling her fingers away when the aching between her legs got too much, she couldn’t hold back anymore. She needed you. Jane straddled you, enclosing your head with her toned and strong legs, holding onto the headboard for support. Your mouth watered, seeing her glistening core in front of you. As the scent of her arousal filled your nose, you couldn’t help but whimper in anticipation.

“Be a good girl and make me feel good too, will you?” She said breathlessly, and gently lowered herself to your mouth. You wasted no time, running your tongue through her folds, collecting her desire. Her taste was addicting, and you wrapped your arms around her thighs, pulling her down more. Immediately you went to work on her clit, giving it kitten licks and sucking it gently, causing Jane to throw her head back and let out a guttural groan.

Your hands moved upwards, feeling her warm skin, massaging her soft breasts, and teasing her nipples. Meanwhile, your ministrations on her clit never wavered, causing Jane to roll her hips down onto your tongue. You groaned into her core, letting her ride herself on your tongue however she desired. The sounds coming from her were a mix of obscenities and praises of your name, which sent your head reeling. Shortly, Jane’s legs started shaking, and you moved your hands to support her, holding her in place for you to continue your feasting on her. She was close, and you could hear it. You collected all of your remaining energy to focus on her clit, licking and nibbling. Sucking on it hard one last time caused Jane to come undone on top of you, clasping her thighs around your head, trapping you momentarily as you helped her ride out her orgasm on your face. She released you from her grip and collapsed next to you on the bed, panting heavily.

“You’re aethereal when you come undone like that.” You pant gently and smile brightly when you catch her blush. Jane moved her head to look at you, an affectionate smile spread on her lips as she extended her arms for you. Gratefully you snuggled into her embrace and held her close, resting your head on her chest and listening to her heartbeat, gradually calming down. The two of you stayed like this for a few minutes before you turned your head to look up at her.

“We should probably get dressed again before anyone notices.” She looked down at you, playing with a few loose strands of your hair. You didn’t want to get up, but you knew it was dangerous to stay here for too long.

“We should… but I don't want to.” She smiled and pressed a sweet kiss on your forehead.

“Let's just stay like this for a little longer. I don’t want to let go of you just yet.” Jane smiled and nuzzled her nose into the crown of your head. You were more than content with that decision.

You wanted to tell her you loved her, and let her know how much she meant to you but… this could wait. Most important was that you could enjoy the closeness and calm with Jane, bask in each other's presence, exchange kisses, and whisper sweet nothings to each other until the two of you fell asleep eventually.

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Tags: @weemssapphic @pro-weems-places @winterfireblond

#ao3 #reader insert #jane murdstone #gwendoline christie #jane murdstone x fem!reader #fanfic #gwendoline christie fanfics #wlw #queer #sapphic

259 notes · View notes

eviebane · 6 months

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Good Omens Brainrot: Starter Park

I will be updating this the more I find! Please feel free to suggest things~

Have you recently watched Good Omens and would like to go down the ineffable rabbit hole? Are you a Crowley/Aziraphale shipper? Do you want to find your way inside Neil Gaiman's walls?

Look no further! This post will get you up to speed on what's happening in the Good Omens fandom and is guaranteed to increase your brain rot by 6000%!

Post-Season 2 Theories

The Good Omens soundtrack is lying to you

Crowley's angel identity

The Clock Theory

Double meanings

Maggie is a Nephilim and my meta masterpost

The Coffee Theory

Matchbox foreshadowing

Good Omens Extras

The Deleted Bookshop Scene Animatic (from the Good Omens script book)

David Tennant reads the bookshop scene from Good Omens

Deleted scene from episode 1

Deleted scene Surrender the Angle

Deleted scene Mr and Ms Cheng

Deleted scene Rob encounters a demon

Deleted scene Justine's peanut allergy

Bloopers Crowley ordering drinks

Bloopers Mrs Henderson

BTS Bookshop Tour

BTS Burning Azi's bookshop

BTS Before & After VFX Breakdown

BTS Season 1

The 1992 movie script (link to Neil's post discouraging viewing due to copyright issues)

Analysis & Meta

ineffable-suffering's meta masterpost - NEW Crackpotting Theory Tracker

If you want to watch the kiss in Analysis Mode

Jane Austin in Good Omens

Va Va Voom yellow

How tied crowley is to gay (british) culture

The Bentley handle easter egg and how to tell the Bentley's apart

Silliness and why it's important

Beelzebub's thrones

Crowley's star making book

Mr Brown is in love with Aziraphale

People To Follow

Neil Gaimon's blog

Aziraphale's Library - huge catalogue of GO fics

The Good Omens Heritage Blog

Blogs to follow

ALCHEMY's YouTube channel - GO fan edits

Sendarya's YouTube channel - Azi's jewelry, the visual poetry of left and right, what does the smile mean?, Staged comparisons, and more)

Good Omens Book

The different Good Omens books explained

Things show only fans might not know and that upsets me

Other

The best Crowley playlist

Good Omens timeline in chronological order and a GIF edit

Where the South Downs thing comes from

Why Douglas leaving doesn't mean we will see a drop in quality

Popular Good Omens Headcanons That I Think Are Neat

David loves being set on fire

Crowley's eyes

What does Neil say about characters' genders?

Crowley is genderfluid

Crowley & Azi's relationship is queer

Every tape in the Bentley eventually turns into The Best of Queen

The Kiss - it's not to show they're in love, it was done in 3 takes, do it again please

#crowley #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #good omens #aziracrow #goodomens #good omens 2 #gomens #gomens 2 #ineffable divorce #good omens meta

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tojigasm · 1 year

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Authors note: another Sam Worthington fic for you, sweet angels!! This one can be read as a sequel to the first Sam fic I posted but can also be read as a stand-alone. This one is very much weird!reader coded and deranged <33 i hope you all enjoy!!

Warnings: nsfw 18+, minors DNI, smut, fluff, Dilf! Sam worthington, heavy obsession with one another, angst, reader is #weirdmanicpixiedreamgirl type beat, mentions of hurting oneself (not Self harm though), picking at scabs, petnames, Sam being very sweet and a good boyfriend

Synopsis

"I want you to eat me." You sob into the blankets, and you can hear Sam chuckle lightly behind you.

and God, you both want to consume one another. a dying urge to crawl into each other's arms until you mesh into one. he wants to bleed from you and run down your thighs and pick at your scabs until they burn and run rivers of velvet.

he doesn't question you. "How?" You feel his hand rest on the soft of your shoulder, turning your cheek to the duvet and you sob. "How would you like to be eaten?"

"Raw."

The air smells of wheat and lavender, and the lace tablecloth tickles the tops of your thighs in the gentle air.

"You have this look about you." Sam smiles, dimples soft against his cheeks. "Like you've seen everything and anything. Like you've lived too many lives to count."

His shoe toes at your Mary Jane, and you hum, taking a sip of your drink. Sea glass eyes focus in on you, and you flush under his warm gaze.

pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you turn away bashfully, focusing on the breathing trees and soft pillowy clouds that wave by.

The cafe Sam had picked was secluded enough for New York's standards of celebrity life. Tucked away in a quiet park that awarded a moment of gentle peace for the two of you.

Sam's hand cups your cheeks and turns you back to him. Sea glass eyes trace over you again, his lashes drooping in a gentle gaze.

"Where do you go in that head of yours hm?" His voice draws in his accent, lips pulled into a smirk.

shrugging, you pull back to take another sip of your drink. "Off to one of my past lives, I suppose."

he doesn't say anything, gently wrapping his hand over your chin again. He runs the knuckles of his other over your soft cheeks before tracing you features with the tips of his fingers.

You look up at him under your lashes before biting into his palm with a giggle. Sam pulls away in faux hurt, hissing through his teeth before settling back into the seat of his chair.

Sam takes you in – the soft of your hair, the glow of your skin under the sun. Your vanilla slip that rides up your thigh, leaving wake to your lace stockings.

"You're staring." Your voice pulls him back to you.

"I was."

Sam gives you a look that you can't quite make out. Not entirely confident that it's something in the way he responds or a separation in the age between the two of you — either way, he doesn't explain it to you, and you don't ask.

You blame it on the gap of maturity between the two of you.

There's a moment of pause before you hum, taking another sip of your drink before standing up and grabbing your purse.

Sam takes a wad of bills from his wallet and places them on the table. Linking your hands together, he lets you guide him.

—

In the park, Sam settles down near Birchwood and guides you to sit between his legs. Your back to his chest as he pulls your shared novel from your purse and begins to read.

It's soft and quiet in the meadow as spring circles round. Purples and yellows and baby blues are scattered around the soft tufts of grass.

A bird sings, and you let your eyes flutter shut as a plane hums overhead. The sun warms your cheeks and arms, decorating your lace slip in a halo glow.

"What do you say I shall do? The man asks. He speaks sadly, as though he knows the answer already, and it wears Oedipus' soul thin." Sam's voice, thick in his Australian drawl dances around you, chilling over your arms and the small cut on your knee and your hair and the glow of your dress.

There's a soft moment where you can hear Sam fold a page and set the book down before you're met with a gentle kiss to your cheek.

"You're my world, sweetheart." Sam mumbles against your cheek, nuzzling himself into you.

You hum, "tell me," Reaching back, you loop your arms around his neck, letting your head fall back to his chest.

"Sometimes I wish I could take you away from all this — all this bullshit celebrity life." He gestures around, "all those fake people with their fake lives and their fake everything. Y'too good fr'em."

You turn in his hold, unraveling yourself from his arms, sitting on your knees between his legs.

Your fingers tickle over the rust of his beard and upwards into his thick hair, letting roan slip through your fingers.

"I like my life." You smile with a hum, kissing him softly.

He nods in your hands, and you pull your sunglasses off to put on his head.

"I do." You tickle his side, "I like that they wish they were me. That they look at me and have half the mind not to kill themselves over someone so pretty."

Sam thinks of you as sickly beautiful. You're so smart and so goddamn beautiful. But you're sick and you're deranged and you're evil in the way you watch and pry and steal.

And he loves you for it. Loves the way your eyes light up when a horror film comes on or the way you get giddy when questioned at award ceremonies by those who are oh so above you - It's all the same to him.

Sam watches as you sway gently, lashes soft to your cheeks and your tongue rolling over the plush of your lips in a smirk.

"You wanna get out of here?" he cups your chin, and you nod.

—

in the cool of your apartment, you sway through the auburn halls. Pulling Sam by the hands as Tchaikovsky echoes throughout the flat in a hazy song.

finding yourself on the foot of your bed, you fall to the duvet - flashes of rainbow and amber dance about your ceiling in a ballet, jumping from wall to wall by the glass prisms Sam had gifted you for your birthday.

he watches you like this. lost in your own mind in a bout of giggles that fall past your lips and absentminded humming.

kneeling to the floor, he begins to unbuckle your Mary Janes, kissing your knees through your lace stockings as he slides them off.

the tips of your white slip are stained with green from the meadow - trickling through the threads like a root.

Sam sits beside you on the bed, relaxing into your bed frame. he watches you, notes you, takes you in, and absorbs you.

you meet his eyes and crawl to your hand and knees, sitting back on your haunches to plant both laced feet to his chest. you trace the tips of your toes over each button of his shirt.

"You're naughty," his hand grazes the sole of your foot.

"And you pretend you don't like it." you sneer, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

the arch your feet press into the thick of his bulge beneath his pants and he hisses.

"Hands and knees." he directs.

the cream duvet is cool under your hands, rubbing and burning at your knees as Sam sits behind you. his eyes wander over you before his hands do - he likes to take his time.

he kisses down the backs of your thighs to the soft of your calves and the gentle arch of your feet. And when he slides into you, he kisses a line down the dip of your back, tracing shapes and poems and words of love he'll never speak. you do the same to the sheets below you.

the way you love is not kind, nor is it all encompassing and gentle. You destroy and you devour, and you exist as nothing and everything in the time it takes for Sam to enter you and for you to finish.

the stretch of his cock makes your head fall between your shoulders and you cry. your hand reaches back to his own that digs into the plush of your ass. His thumb traces over a scab that's been long healed and picked apart again, and it repeats.

"I want you to eat me." You sob into the blankets, and you can hear Sam chuckle lightly behind you.

he doesn't question you. "How?" You feel his hand rest on the soft of your shoulder, turning your cheek to the duvet and you sob. "How would you like to be eaten?"

"Raw."

—

It's creeping up like a weed inside of you. It's rotting, and it's tearing you apart.

And it unsettles you so. As though it seeps into your skin and rots you just as it rots your mind and thoughts and seeps from your skin like a thickly sickness.

it must be a sickness you deicde. for what else could it be?

You'd begun to dig into the skin of your hand earlier during, freshly manicured nails scraping and cutting. It's almost pacifying. something to take your mind off the insufferable crowd and the creeping reminder of the fans and media outlets that will ultimately tear into you until there's nothing more of you left.

your skin is raw and it burns. You think of it sickly as you sigh under your breath, eyes falling shut.

"Y/n."

It's Sam. his thick brows cinched with worry and his hand gently soothing your thigh.

"Are you okay?" you nod. You think you might throw up.

"Yes, I'm okay."

Sam studies you for a moment. Searching in your eyes, almost pleading for you to tell the truth and have him pull you out of the building, have him drive you home and soothe your aches and worries away. Have him save you from the stupid fucking award show you hadn't even wanted to be at to begin with.

his hand squeezes your thigh, and he nods solemnly before turning back to the stage. And a part of you is relieved he doesn't push on the subject more; over time he's learned to let you come to him on your own.

A shrill scream rings among the crowd before an eruption of applause echoes throughout the room.

"I think i'd like to go home now." your lips bitten raw to match your hand and your pretty nails.

Sam turns to you, you feel his hand to your back before you hear him. Running gentle circles over your shoulder, your eyes flutter open and he leans forward to whisper something to you.

—

"M'sorry," you sob into the warmth of him. he coos, soothing you as his cock fills you.

"Theres nothing to apologize for, sweetheart." Sam traces his knuckles over the soft of your cheek.

the ache of the stretch pulls you thin, and you sob into the warmth of Sams room. his cock bruises your walls, his thumb circling kind strokes against your clit.

"Shhh, you're okay." Sam whispers to your cheek as you sob. and it almost as if you cant stop, as if a backlog of tears roll up into your throat and choke you and deem you unworthy until the tides swallow you whole.

"Do you think im wrong?" you can hardly recognize your own voice. its distorted and raw and raspy and comes past your lips in cuts and scratches.

"No, no you're not wrong. you're okay." Sam continues to roll his hips into you, and you dig your nails into his shoulders, looking to his ceiling as your orgasm rides itself through you.

you moan and cry - you bite into Sam's shoulder and pray his skin tears open.

—

you wake to soft chirps and the gentle roar of traffic. Sam still asleep next to you, his freckled arms wrapped over your hips and his roan hair dishevled.

careful not to wake him, you unravel yourself from his hold, pulling on your clothes and grabbing your purse.

You leave his house and head to your car, pulling out onto the road. you aren't sure where you're going.

the sky is a pretty pink and blue that chills over the morning mist and trickles in dew drops.

you feel sickly, you feel skinned, like the rotted and dead root that's been growing and weeding as finally sprung its ugly deformed petals, like its stupidly unaware of how painfully sick it its.

you feel raw.

The soft hum of 'Hearing Damage' circles throughout your car and you begin to feel the sun on your skin as it rises over the mountains of the plains.

Sam's profile appears on the screen of your dashboard. He's calling you. The phone icon pulses on the screen.

You don't pick up.

#sam worthington #dilf sam worthington #avatar #sam worthington x reader #avatar x reader #sam worthington smut #avatar smut #jake sully x reader #jake sully

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