fatboy-rizzoli-torres asked: "Dude that fic you're havin trouble starting. I have an idea to maybe help start it: Jane's had the week from hell, she gets home to see the living room completely dark except a fire in the fire place, a few candles, a beer for her, wine for Maura, and when she turns around, Maura is standing behind her in nothing but an unbuttoned shirt and tells her she wants to make her week better. Or something of that sort? Idk. It sounded better in my head. o.O"


Jane is dragging her feet up the walk way to her house in the rain. Flipping her hair to the side, out of her face, she lets out a huff of air; of course it would be raining.

It had been a bad week.

The worst week.

A clusterfuck of a week.

Frost had gotten shot. Only in the shoulder. But still, she she should have been at his flank when they busted into that house, and Jane has been beating herself up for it ever since.

So, Jane was tired. Frustrated and tired and stressed. And she hasn’t seen Maura in what feels like weeks. Yeah, they sleep in the same bed, but that is all it has been is sleep.

And work.

And sleep.

And Jane can’t remember the last time she held a meaningful conversation with her wife that didn’t involve the logistics of a bullet entry or stomach contents.

So when Jane opens the door and see’s that the house is dark all but for the fireplace, her heart skips a beat and she can feel a surge of adrenaline. Shitty day and wet clothes be damned. There was a reason why she married this woman.

Walking in, she tosses her keys on the island and looks around; “Babe?” she calls out, patting her hands anxiously against her legs.


Jane flinches at the voice that comes out of the darkness and walks over to the couch. As she takes a seat, she can hear soft footsteps coming up behind her and a hand run through her wet hair. Jane closes her eyes as Maura continues massaging and pulling gently. When the ministrations stop, Jane opens her eyes slowly and begins to turn her head until hand gently cup her jaw from behind her and gently push back; “Stay there.”

Jane smiles and she captures Maura’s hand, bringing it to her lips and placing a light kiss on her palm acknowledging the request.

Then everything goes dark, and Jane quickly brings her hands up to her eyes and feels the fabric there. She brings her bottom lip into her mouth and bites it gently; Maura is a goddamn minx and she loves it.

Everything is still for a moment until Jane feels the couch shift on either side of her. She can feel Maura settle into her lap, her knees firmly pressed against the outside of her thighs as she straddles her. Jane’s hands quickly ghost up her thighs, and she is suddenly very aware that her wife is not wearing anything. And when her hands settle on her hips there is she is rewarded with the mental image that there is no thin barrier of fabric there either.

Jane’s body grows warm as she grips Maura’s hips, causing her to grind into her lap; “Here.” Maura’s voice is soft, and Jane can feel the cool rim of a bottle against her lips. Tilting her head back she lets Maura pour the beer in to her mouth, causing a small amount to dribble down her chin. She raises her hand to wipe it away, but her wrist is caught as Maura leans down and sucks and kisses the trail of liquid from the hollow of her neck, up her throat and to her chin.

Maura leans back and trails her finger across Jane’s collarbone, outlining the shape of it. Then sneaking a finger under her shirt, pulls at the chain there, bringing up her badge. Maura examines it, flipping it back and forth, then taking it off from around Jane’s neck, brings it over her head. The chain is cool against the flush of her skin, and the badge hangs just above her navel.

Jane cocks an eyebrow behind her blindfold and runs her hands up from Maura’s thighs and trails her fingertips up her ribs and then pauses as the fabric of her shirt brushes over the back of her hands. Jane brings her hand up and pinches the blindfold and lifts up one side. Maura is wearing one of her shirts. It is loose and unbuttoned and hanging off her shoulders exposing the swells of her breast and Jane lets out a smooth whistle as she eyes her wife up and down then she pulls the blindfold back in place.

Maura fucking Isles; this woman.

Leaning forward, Maura nuzzles gently against the side of Jane’s face; “You like?”

Jane can only nod as a smile creeps across face. She begins to trail a kiss from sensitive spot below her ear, across her jawline until her lips ghost across her wife’s.

Jane leans forward, but Maura adjusts and leans back, just out reach; “Tease.” Jane hisses out, her hands running Maura’s stomach and her thumbs brushing the soft skin under her breasts.

Maura hums in response as she leans in and captures her lips. It is soft at first, but quickly grows as she slips her tongue into Jane’s mouth, fighting for dominance. Jane hands grip her hips tightly, pushing as pulling, keeping with the rhythm she started.

Bringing her hand up, she pulls back from their kiss and pulls at blindfold, taking it off. Maura needs to see her.

Her back arches as Jane slips inside her and presses her forehead against the space between her breasts, kissing and nippping gently there as her hand moves slow and deep. Maura’s hips rise and fall, keeping tempo, and she brings her lips crashing back against Jane’s mouth.

She is breathing her in.

She wants everything this woman can give and more. Every fiber of her being.

Every bit of her heart.

And pulling back from their kiss, she presses her forehead against Jane’s. Shutting her eyes, her mouth opens in a silent scream as her head falls back.

She’s coming undone. But Jane holds her tight, her hand pressed firmly against the small of her back; holding her together as she falls apart in the most beautiful way. 

posted 1 year ago with 96 notes

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    I swear this fandom is trying to kill me *collapses* Woman down!
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