#App Ringer

[appringerblogs]

Custom Web Application Development : A Complete Guide

Custom web application development is the art and science of creating unique, purpose-built software solutions that cater precisely to the distinct needs of businesses or organizations. App Ringer, our commitment to excellence in custom web application development is unwavering. We understand that every enterprise has its own set of challenges and goals, and that’s why we offer a personalized approach to crafting web applications. Our team of skilled developers at App Ringer collaborates closely with clients, conducting in-depth consultations to comprehend their specific requirements and objectives. We convert these insights into fully customized web applications via a painstaking process of planning, coding, and deployment. Through the utilization of state-of-the-art technologies and creative design, we guarantee that our clients obtain not only a resolution but also a competitive edge in the digital domain. At App Ringer, we take pride in creating custom web apps that not only satisfy our clients’ specific needs but also go above and beyond their expectations, giving them a strong tool to succeed in the fast-paced commercial world of today.

Let’s break the whole term- custom web application word by word and look at its meaning.

Custom :- It indicates that the product has been carefully chosen to meet the unique needs and fundamental objectives of the company, which are reflected in its features, design, and user experience.

Web :- Web means that the product can be used over the internet without the need for users to download, update, or set it up themselves in order to access all of its features.

Application :- Unlike informational websites that primarily display data, the product includes specific features and a two-way interaction. Thus, a unique digital product that can be accessible online and offers users a variety of capabilities and interaction opportunities is a custom web application.

Types of Web Applications

Customized E-Commerce Websites :- Websites for online shopping that are specially designed to fit the requirements and brand of a company are known as customized e-commerce websites. Customized e-commerce websites are constructed from the bottom up, taking into account the distinct goods, services, and objectives of the company, in contrast to generic e-commerce templates. From the user interface to the checkout procedure, every aspect of these websites’ development and design is focused on delivering a smooth and customized user experience. Customization enables companies to highlight their distinctive brand, add particular features, and solve particular problems that might not be solved by off-the-shelf solutions. Whether it’s adding sophisticated features for product searches, optimizing the checkout process, or creating a distinctive look that captures the essence of the brand, a customized e-commerce website guarantees a custom solution that fits the goals of the company, increases user engagement, and eventually propels online success.

Customized Content Management Systems (CMS) :- Solutions specifically designed to manage, create, and arrange digital material on websites or other online platforms are referred to as customized content management systems, or CMS. Customized CMS systems, as opposed to off-the-shelf solutions, are made especially to satisfy the particular needs and preferences of a company or organization. User permissions, publication workflows, and content production are all made flexible by this degree of personalization. Companies can customize features and functionalities to meet their unique requirements, which improves efficiency and harmonizes with their branding in content management. Scalability is another benefit of customized CMS solutions; it lets companies grow and change their online presence as their demands change. A customized content management system (CMS) enables organizations to have a content management system that not only fits their current needs but also evolves with them over time, offering a more seamless and effective content management experience. Features such as personalized interfaces, user-friendly content editing tools, and integrations that match the specific goals of the business.

Integrated Web Applications :- One kind of software solution that unifies several systems and functionalities into a single, coherent platform is called an integrated web application. Through the seamless integration of many tools and components, these apps are intended to optimize corporate operations. Databases, software programs, and services are frequently linked together in web applications through integration to produce a more cohesive and effective digital environment. A customer relationship management (CRM) system and an e-commerce platform can be integrated, or features and functionalities can be improved by integrating third-party APIs. Enhanced collaboration, process automation, and a more cohesive and user-friendly experience for end users and organizations are the objectives of integrated web apps. By utilizing the advantages of various tools and systems, this strategy enables businesses to increase productivity and enhance overall performance in the digital environment.

Social Networking Websites :- Social networking websites are online platforms designed to facilitate social interaction, collaboration, and content sharing among individuals or groups. These websites provide users with the ability to create personal profiles, connect with friends or colleagues, and share various types of content such as text posts, images, videos, and links. Popular examples include Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, and Instagram. Social networking sites often feature tools for communication, such as private messaging, comments, and discussion forums, allowing users to engage in real-time conversations. They are important for bringing individuals together who share interests, creating a sense of community, and acting as effective instruments for networking on both a personal and professional level. Furthermore, social networking sites are essential for the distribution of material since they let users share news, trends, and updates with a larger audience. Social networking sites serve a variety of functions and have different dynamics. These include content creation, professional networking, socializing, and brand marketing. These platforms have grown to be an essential component of the digital environment, impacting worldwide connections and interactions between people and corporations as well as defining online communication.

Mobile Apps :- Software applications created especially to operate on mobile devices like smartphones and tablets are known as mobile apps. These applications are designed to offer consumers a variety of features, services, or entertainment straight on their mobile devices. App shops, like Google Play for Android smartphones and the Apple App Store for iOS devices, are where mobile apps may be downloaded and installed. Numerous uses for mobile apps exist, such as social networking, productivity, gaming, education, health and fitness, and more. They are created for many mobile operating systems, the most well-known of which are Android (Google) and iOS (Apple).Coding, design, and testing are all part of the process of developing mobile apps to make sure the user experience is seamless. Apps may improve functionality and user interaction by utilizing device features like touchscreens, accelerometers, GPS, and cameras. They might also provide synchronization with internet services and offline functionality.With mobile applications, you can easily access information, services, and entertainment while on the go, making them an indispensable aspect of modern living. As mobile technology develops and developers come up with creative ways to satisfy different customer wants and preferences, their importance only grows.

Web Service :- A web service is a software program created to facilitate data interchange and communication via the internet between various programs or systems. It offers a common interface via which many software applications can communicate with one another, independent of the platforms, technologies, or programming languages they may employ. In order to simplify communication, web services usually adhere to a set of standards and protocols, such as SOAP (Simple Object Access Protocol) or HTTP (Hypertext Transfer Protocol). Web services are frequently employed in service-oriented architectures (SOAs), where they are essential for creating systems that are both scalable and interoperable. Web services can be broadly classified into two categories: SOAP-based services and RESTful (Representational State Transfer) services. While SOAP services are more formal and provide a defined means for applications to communicate structured data, RESTful services are renowned for their simplicity and are frequently utilized in web development.Different programs can be integrated together and share data, functionality, and services with ease thanks to web services. They are essential to the development of contemporary software and websites because they make it easier to create dispersed, networked systems that can effectively communicate and work together via the internet.

Online Communities :- Different programs can be integrated together and share data, functionality, and services with ease thanks to web services. They are essential to the development of contemporary software and websites because they make it easier to create dispersed, networked systems that can effectively communicate and work together via the internet.

Benefits of Creating a Custom Product

Unique features :- Custom web apps are distinguished by their special features made to meet the demands of particular industries. These applications, in contrast to off-the-shelf options, are precisely designed to provide customized features that meet the specific needs of the customer. Custom web apps provide particular features such as customized user interfaces, workflows, and integrations that improve performance and user experience. These programs provide companies with skills that help them stand out in their respective markets, such as personalized data management systems and distinctive reporting tools. Custom web applications are distinctive because of their ability to scale and adapt to changing business needs. This gives them a competitive advantage in the digital market.

Scalability :- Custom web apps are known for their scalability, which highlights their capacity to expand and change to meet changing business requirements. These applications are made to easily grow in terms of both functionality and performance, in contrast to one-size-fits-all solutions. Without sacrificing effectiveness, custom web apps may handle larger data quantities, more features, and a growing user base. Because of its scalability, companies can grow their online presence without being constrained by set parameters. Custom web apps offer a base that can easily and efficiently scale, making them perfect for enterprises with dynamic and evolving requirements, whether they are dealing with increased user traffic or introducing new features.

Independence :- You have more control over an app when you build it yourself and don’t have to worry about external suppliers’ decisions regarding price or other matters. Building an app from scratch finally gives you the option to install it on your servers rather than using a cloud service, even though security standards occasionally prohibit the usage of cloud alternatives.

Reusability :- You can effectively use your backend code if you want to develop the next digital product with at least half of the same functionality at some point. As a result, the development will go more quickly and economically. As a result, creating a personalized digital product requires more money and effort. It fits your business needs, yet it’s worth the initial investment in the long run.

How to Build a Custom Web App

https://appringer.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/12/How-to-Build-a-Custom-Web-App.jpg

Creating a personalized web application is a liberating experience that enables you to bring your original concepts to life digitally. It is possible to develop a customized solution that precisely matches your company’s requirements with meticulous planning and implementation. Let’s get started on the detailed steps involved in creating a unique web application.

1. Define Your Objectives

Clearly state the objectives and purpose of your online application.

Determine who the intended audience is and what needs they have.

Describe the essential elements and capabilities needed for success.

2. Choose the Right Technology Stack

Front-end and Back-end development, pick a programming language and framework that operate well together.

Select a suitable database to handle and keep your data.

Think about things like community support, security, and scalability.

3. Wireframing and Prototyping

Make wireframes to see how the user will navigate through the app.

Create prototypes in order to test the user interface and get preliminary input.

So, to make the design process go more quickly, use programs like Sketch or Figma.

4. Front-End Development

Write JavaScript, CSS, and HTML code for the user interface.

For efficiency, make use of front-end frameworks like Angular or React.

For a consistent user experience across devices, make sure your design is responsive.

5. Back-End Development

Create the server-side logic and put the database design into action.

Select a back-end framework and programming language that meet the needs of your project.

Prioritize building a dependable and expandable back-end system.

6. Database Integration

Integrate a database to effectively store and retrieve data.

Create a database schema that complements the data structure of your program.

To handle data effectively, use CRUD (Create, Read, Update, Delete) activities.

7. Testing and Quality Assurance

Test thoroughly in order to find and address bugs.

Put user acceptability, integration, and unit testing into practice.

Make that the performance, security, and functionality of the app fulfill the required requirements.

8. Deployment and Hosting

Select a reputable web host to launch your application.

Set up the domain settings and make sure the security is adequate.

Track the app’s functionality after it has been deployed.

Cost of Building a Custom Web Application

A custom web application’s cost is a complex issue that is influenced by a number of variables. The intricacy of the project, including its features, functions, and scope, is a crucial factor in deciding costs. The total cost is also greatly influenced by the technology stack selected, the complexity of the design, and the user experience requirements. The budget may also be impacted by the requirement for scalable architecture, extensive testing procedures, and the incorporation of sophisticated functionality. Costs are also influenced by the development team’s location, communication tools, and project management efficiency. Other components that go into the expenditure include infrastructure needs, hosting options, security protocols, and continuing upkeep. It’s critical to see the expense as an investment in developing a special, customized solution that closely matches the demands and goals of the organization, rather than merely an outlay of cash. A reasonable budget that accurately represents the true cost of creating a bespoke web application will be ensured by working with knowledgeable developers and carrying out a thorough project evaluation.

Read more :- https://appringer.com/blog/digital-marketing/custom-web-app-development/

[blackprivilege]

Just sent two support emails in a row because everything breaks on this app every day 😁✌🏽

[poisonpercy]

I’ve had my current phone for about 6.5 years and I finally ordered a new one like 2 days ago and it just got delivered. I’m so excited!!!

[perfectlysunny02]

baines-blog knows the truth about u✌🏼

ooh yay, maybe they know where i put my phone. i laid it down somewhere an hour ago and i can’t find it.

[beeseverywhen]

Me to my little sister: Right now you've got a replacement phone you'll actually keep this one on you when you go out alone right?

Her: Yes!

Her: Unless i go to the shop

Me: What? That's the only place you go without an adult, why wouldn't you take it there? It's the one place you actually need it

Her: Why would i need a phone in a supermarket

Me: Why would you need a phone anywhere? To get help if you need it. Besides you aren't teleporting in to the supermarket! You have to get there first. You're taking it to the supermarket so you have it there and on the way there in case you need to call us because there are no public phones! If you go out without it, you are the only person walking about without one.

Her: OK, I'll even take it to the supermarket

[jovialtorchlight]

i've been through the fucking ringer the past few months. engine blew on my car, paid 5 grand to put a new one in only to have the transmission blow as well. i am likely going to let the bank repossess the car.

i need some help. i've been carless for the entire summer and my job is starting again.

Any help fucking unbelievably appreciated. i'm kind of stuck and i have to get to and from work...i can't keep bumming rides if i could get a couple hundred bucks extra i could up my budget from like 1,500 to upwards of 2 grand. my entire paycheck is 1538 so even a tiny bit of wiggle room would help me get a vehicle. But I ALSO need to pay $625 to the shop, need to pay for a tow, need to pay bills… needless to say I need some help. sooooo if you’ve ever wanted to buy a book/do the pay what you can PDF option I would be incredibly grateful

Downloadable PDFS

Pay what you can:

Paypal: jabolduc125@gmail.com

Cash app: $jonnybolduc125

Venmo: @Jonny-Bolduc

Physical book:

https://www.amazon.com/.../Jonny-Bolduc/author/B085LRJ7WZ...

And to be honest, if you’ve read one of my books, consider hyping it up to friends. Make some TikTok’s, try to get my work out there. I’ve never needed help more.

Sending love

[banquetwriter]

CAN YOU DO some johnnie smut with morning sex PLEASE

that would be so hot

୨୧ glory filled mornings ୨୧

pairing: Johnnie Guilbert ♡︎ fem!Reader

warnings: ୭̥⋆*｡ SMUT, unedited, wrote this when i had a fever so it doesn’t make sense lol

summary: ʚ johnnie wakes up with an embarrassing situation ɞ

Words: idk lol

SUPPORT ME

An: i’m so sorry u have been absent i’ve genuinely been going through the ringer and i promise i’m making my way through these requests!! also i will rewrite this at some point haha

It wasn't often that Johnnie indulged in hookups. Sure every so once in a while a pretty girl and him would leave a bar together. Nothing was ever that serious with him. He has been on a few dates but nothing ever went anywhere.

This was different. He had to admit you had piqued his interest since he met you at a party. Then again the next week he saw you again. You were one of Corry and Jake’s friends from their traphouse days.

You were so fucking pretty. The way you laughed at almost all of his jokes, even if they weren't funny. When you would lean in to make sure you heard everything he wanted to say. The way you would trace his tattoos whenever he would show you one of them. That's what led the two of you to cuddle in an Uber home.

The two of you drunkenly cuddled on your couch before you kicked him to your bed. Refusing to let a guest sleep on the couch. That's how he woke up to his head pounding and an unfortunate boner.

He felt the familiar feeling and looked down, revealing a small tent in his boxers. Probably from sleeping in a pretty girl's bed all night. “Fuck,” he muttered to himself.

He rubs his face with his hands as you suddenly enter the room. He quickly covers his body back up with your duvet. “Heyy good morning sleepy head,” you said smiling. You had a medicine bottle and a glass of water in your hands. “H-hey,” he said, feeling his heart beating out of his chest.

“Ugh god my head hurts so bad, I took some Tylenol and I hope that helps.” you absentmindedly said setting the bottle and water down on your bedside table. The pressure of the blanket pressing on his core was definitely not helping his boner, the sight of your short Beetlejuice sleep shorts was also not helping.

Your skin looked so damn soft, the pudge of your thighs spilling out as you sat down on the bed next to him. You were on your phone not even looking at him. It was truly embarrassing just how much his damn brain was fixated on you.

You hugged your knees to your chest scrolling around on your phone. Softly chewing on your nails, you notice that Johnnie has been staring at you for a prolonged amount of time. You lifted your head from your Doordash app to look at him.

He looked flushed, he had ripped his shirt off in the middle of the night so you could see how red his chest was. You quirked your head at him “Dude Johnnie you ok?” you ask, trying not to laugh a little.

“Um yeah I'm fine-” he muttered, scratching his head, his rings and necklaces clinking together. “Dude, tell me what's going on. You didn't blow chunks in my room did you?” you say with a disgusted face.

“No! No- I swear I didn't-” he said sitting up more. Unfortunately, he was cut off by your eyes dropping to his waist. When he sat up the blanket got just a little too low. Johnnie’s raging boner peeking through his skinny jeans was now in full view.

His eyes shoot up back at your face. He couldn't discern your facial expression at all. Your eyes were slightly wide but you didn't look disgusted or horrified or even mildly embarrassed.

Johnnie sure did. He felt like he was gonna die. Right there, right then, with a fat boner in a pretty girl's bedroom. His brain was slowly shutting down from anxiety. Unable to form an apology. Or any thoughts for that matter.

You felt a rush of confidence surge through your body as you stared at the raven-haired boy. “Oh?” you asked, turning your phone off, leaning forward getting closer to Johnnie.

He was surely having an aneurysm. Or maybe he was still drunk and this was just a bad dream. He could almost feel the heat radiating off of your skin. It was going to set him on fire. His head was pounding and he was tired, but at the same time, he hadn't ever felt more awake than he does now.

“I-I'm so sorry. I'm not trying to be some fucking creep. It just happens sometimes I promise it has nothing to do with you.” he stuttered putting his hand in between you and himself.

That was half true. Sometimes morning wood just happens for no reason, the untrue half was that it had NOTHING to do with you. Maybe Johnnie dreamt of you last night, maybe he didn't. All he knows is the scent of you was enough to drive him up the fucking walls.

“Awww really?” you asked in a fiend sad voice. You placed your right hand on one side of his body moving you closer to him. He felt like squealing or squirming or maybe both. This was a horrible situation to be in.

“Yes, I'm so sorry I will leave.” he prefaced trying to pin his body down onto the mattress as you moved closer to him. “There's no need for that, you said it yourself it's perfectly natural. You don't need to be embarrassed.” you purred out. Johnnie's skin was on fire, he could have cried from how hard he was in his jeans.

“I promise it's not about you,” he whispers, trying to save face. “It's not? You don't think I'm pretty Johnnie?” you ask with a pout. You continued to climb up the bed. Your body was so close to his now. Your arms were on either side of his head.

“No! It's not that I think you are beautiful-” he almost shouted at you. “Oh, you think I'm beautiful?” you whispered as you hovered over his neck. He let out a shaky breath as he watched your head dip down to his neck.

He felt like could explode as you slowly started to kiss up his neck. “This ok?” you murmured against his skin, your voice tickling his flesh. “Mhm!” he borderline whimpered out feeling your tongue and teeth grazing his hot skin.

You moved your legs to mimic your arms moving on either side of his body. Your body was on top of his, feeling his boner through his pants. It sends waves of heat to your core. Pressing your clothes clit on his hard-on slowly starting to rub up and down.

It was painful how hard he was. “Fuck please, let me take my pants off.” he moaned out his hands slinking up to your waist and under his shirt. You were quick to take his hands off of you and hold them above next to his head.

He whined out as your display of dominance, bucked his hips up into you. “Keep your hands there,” you whispered while sitting up. All of your weight was now on his crotch. The pressure sent him spinning. You slowly slid your hands on your body taking your shirt off.

He gasped looking at you. He never went after looks always personality but fuck you were so perfect for him. It was hard listening to your instructions. He wanted to grip your sides as you bounced up and down on him.

But he stayed put. You slowly pulled your shorts off as well, it's not like they left much to the imagination. Your dark panties found their way to his body again grinding down on him. His mound pressing into you. “Let me take my fucking pants off,” he whined, lifting his head a little bit.

“God, you are so impatient,” you murmur moving your head down, he sucked in with clenched teeth as you slowly started to pepper kisses along his chest. “Ah fuck.” he whined bucking his hips against you.

“Shush,” you whispered, you continued to suck and pull at his chest skin adorning his body with hickies that matched the ones on his neck. He threw his head back trying to feel any sort of release or pressure.

“Mm, fuck.” He whimpered again he squirmed more under you, his slim waist flexing beautifully. “Johnnie?” you asked moving up above him leaving his marked chest alone for now.

“Yeah?” He panted out, his head still feeling like a jackhammer was bouncing around his brain. “Take your pants off,” you whispered. Your voice was so quiet he didn't hear you at first. A pause between the two of you capturing desperation.

Once the words finally filled his brain he scooted away from you and off the bed hastily ripping the belt he had been wearing off. You flipped on your back, head hitting the pillow.

You hooked your fingers around your panties to pull them down. “No! Don't, I want to.” Johnnie said, holding his hand out. You smirked at him feeling your panties sticking to your body.

He fiddled with his jean button before finally being able to undo it. He yanked his pants and boxers down, his cock springing up and hitting his chest. He crawled up the bed, staring down at you.

You were breathing deeply, gazing into his eyes. Johnnie grabs the blanket, dropping it over himself. His hands find their way to your sides slowly caressing up and down. His head ducked down to your neck.

He returns the favor of the hickies nipping at your skin. Your nails find their way to his hair, scraping his scalp and encouraging him to continue. You moaned out slightly at the contact.

His arms moved to either side of your head, his back flexing to reach every part of you. This time your hips moved up to meet him. “Who is the impatient one now? Huh?” he asked, you could feel the smirk on his lips.

“It's still you.” you teased him, slowly grabbing a fistful of his hair. He whined slightly as you pulled him away from your neck. His dick was resting on top of your stomach. “Johnnie, I need you,” you stated slowly. “I need you to fuck me,” you said, your voice dripping dominance.

Johnnie couldn't help but obey. “Fuck yeah, ok,” he muttered sitting on his knees and moving his hands towards your sides. Finally pulling your panties from your dripping cunt. You spread your legs open for him, his hands pressing against your thigh to stabilize himself.

Hu pumped his cock a few times before lining himself in your entrance. He slowly pushed into you, whimpering feeling your tight walls around him. He leaned down, capturing your lips. He slowly pulled out of you and snapped his hips back in. You whimpered against him.

Your nails found his back, he slowly started to pump faster and faster inside you. You moaned against his mouth scratching down his back. Your long acrylic nails surely leave him bleeding.

He moans into your mouth as he starts to approach his climax. “Fuck fuck I can't hold on for much longer,” he whines. “Keep going, I'm so close,” you whine back to him. He grips the pillows behind your head as his hips snap against yours.

The coil snaps as your walls flutter around his member. Your eyes roll back as you mewl out for him. Your orgasm washes over you like a powerful wave, you squeezed him so tight you pulled his orgasm out of him.

His hips stuttered for a second before continuing to pump in and out of you as white ropes shot to your core. After a few seconds, he stood still before removing himself from you.

You feel him drop to your chest bringing the blanket up over himself and holding you. He snuggled his head into your chest not wanting this moment to be over.

Eventually, it had to be. So to Johnnie’s dismay, he rolled over on the other side of your bed. You giggle as he lets out a dramatic huff. “Mmm fuck.” he mumbles his headache returning. You rolled over as well smiling down at him.

“We should go shower now,” you whispered, pressing a soft kiss against his cheek. “Mm later,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around you.

The two of you sat with one another for a while. Just resting, tracing his tattoos. Eventually you moved to the bathroom, turning the warm water on. You stepped in letting the water heat your body.

The shower door opened and you turned around to see Johnnie stepping in after you.

[aizawas-problem-child]

it's especially awful when they have the sound on even when your ringer is off and you're playing a game.

honestly it's bad enough that sometimes when playing mobile games i just turn my phones actual volume off. especially when im public because i don't know when an ad that doesn't stay muted will come on and i'm not wearing headphones

god these ads with the sound are awful and I've been getting one today nonstop of this stupid mobile game where you have to complete a puzzle to break down the shower door for some girl who's showering so you can see her nude and like that's so gross but also hearing the girl giggle bc the ad doesn't stay muted is awful

[lovelettersforthedamned]

just thinking about asking nerdy!peter parker just casual asking for a whimpering audio

Missing You

--genre: fluff & SMUT

--pairing: nerdy!tasm!peter parker x gn!reader

--word count: 0.8k

--warnings: language, mutual masturbation, sexting, i think that's it???

this gif...my godddd

Peter has started to travel for work more often, leaving you at home without him. Along with your loneliness, Peter finds himself aching for you more often than not. His company doesn’t have him working late nights when he’s on these work trips, and he doesn’t really do well in new environments, especially when you’re not there, so he finds himself in his hotel room flipping through shitty channels on the TV. 

It was early when he decided to ditch the local news broadcast and scroll through his phone. It must’ve been only 5 minutes of jumping back and forth through his apps, even opening the weather app a few times out of sheer boredom. Looking at the time, he did the math in his head, figuring out what time it was back in New York. You should be home by now. 

Pete: Hi bug, how was work?

You: it was good! nothing out of the ordinary…you already done with your day, baby?

Pete: Yeah, I'm just lounging at the hotel. 

Pete: I miss you, so so much. 

You: i miss you always, pete. 

You: miss the way you touch me…

This makes Peter flush with warmth, he suddenly feels very vulnerable in a room with no one but him. He didn’t know how much he missed kissing you, touching you, and especially hearing you until he was forced to leave. God, he missed the sound of your voice. 

Without thinking about it, he slowly slipped his hand into his work pants and boxers, slowly stroking his soft cock. With his phone in his other hand, he texts you back. 

Pete: Fuck (Y/N), I wish you were here. I need you. 

Back in New York, you’re lying on your stomach giggling at your boyfriend’s texts. You know exactly what he’s doing, and you know exactly how desperate he is for anything from you right now. You’ve always loved to tease Peter, especially when you two haven’t had sex in a while. But you know that he’s needed this for a while now and that you being a couple hundred miles away from him was taking a toll on him. Rolling over to your back, you text him back.

You: if i was there, what would we be doing? 

You: maybe we would go out to eat, or check out the area? what do you think, baby? 

Pete: I think we’d stay in, and have some fun in the hotel. 

You: aww petey…you still touching yourself right now?

And for the second time, Peter’s flustered. His now hard cock twitches in his hand at the thought of you knowing he was pumping himself to your texts. It somehow turns him on even more, a low groan leaves his mouth. Now that the secret is out, his filter is gone. 

Pete: Yeah, I am. 

You: good.

You: Attachment: Voice Memo

The minute-long voice recording intrigues Peter as he clicks on the play button, setting his phone down. As soon as it started to play, the sound of your moans filled his hotel room. You started soft, with a couple of whines as the seconds went on. He can picture you in your shared bed, touching yourself to the thought of him. 

His hand starts to pump faster as he closes his eyes and listens closely to your recording. He starts to hear a soft hum in the background, it’s very faint but it’s definitely there. He realizes that you’re using the vibrator he gifted you for your birthday, and his head spins. He’s so close when your moans grow louder. 

His warm seed spilled all over his hand, a wet spot forming on his pants, but he didn’t care. He slowly pumps his cock as he starts to come down from his high, the only thing on his mind is you. 

Peter is still in a state of bliss when your moans come to a stop, he thinks the recording ends until you speak, “I love you, Peter. I can’t wait for you to come home.”

He sighs as a grin spreads across his features. He starts to sit up when his phone buzzes, and his ringer screams at him. Looking at his phone next to him, he realizes that you’re Facetiming him. With his clean hand, he picks up his phone and answers it, your smiling face looking at him. You giggle, “You look kinda crazy right now, baby.”

You weren’t wrong, his hair was tousled from laying in bed, and his glasses were crooked. “You do not want to see my bottom half if you think I look crazy,” he replies half laughing half speaking. 

You can’t help but smile at Peter, thinking about everything you two will do when he’s back home in the comfort of your apartment. 

--authors's note: THIS REQUEST IS GOLD!!!! thank you anon for this, it's so delicious. my asks/inbox is open, so keep sending in requests!!! thank you so much for all the support, and don't forget to like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed. ok, ily bye<3333

[blackwoolncrown]

Hey allies - I could use support <3 (Black, autistic, NB femme, orphan of estrangement)

So long story short I've been through the ringer lately- The great part is things that I've been working towards for the past 2 years are finally coming to fruition!

The hard part is that I've been dealing with frequent fees and expenses in the process and Oct-Nov promise even more.

If you don't know, I was displaced from FL during the housing crisis and just couldn't keep up with what the US was demanding of me for survival, so I moved to another country at the suggestion and helping hand of a friend.

Recently, I've managed to get part of my residency process under way, but the trip to do so cost me ~$2k for travel, food and lodgings, I'd JUST had my car fixed.

When I got back to the country I was told that completing the process would be another $100 fee; my lease is up next month and in order to move I'll need to pay 2x rent wherever I go.

It's just a lot building up and I make a modest income right now; my savings is drained from taking care of things with my business and having to travel back and forth to a town 1.5 hours away bc my place got robbed and I've been having to handle things w the police & my landlord while I stay at a friends (still, unfortunately, paying rent at the place I can't stay at rn). I'd love to focus on my work to help w this but I only do payroll once a month, and I'll need to pay fees & rent sooner than that because next month I have to move AND drive 3 days to pay a bunch of money to import my car.

There's more and I'd be happy to give more detail/proof if anyone wants it (DM me) but overall I have just been really financially drained, burned out, and I need funding to assist w covering groceries, deposit and legal fees for this month into Oct & Nov.

**I am not at risk of being houseless or unfed atm so this is really for anyone with privilege who can comfortably help out***

C***app: $moonseye

!!!PLEASE DO NOT TAG!!!!

[appringerblogs]

12 Best SEO Tools to Simplify Your Marketing Efforts in 2024

List of Top 12 SEO Tools

SEO ToolDescriptionVersionGoogle Search ConsoleProvides website health check-ups, indexing insights, backlinks, and search traffic details.FreeGoogle AnalyticsUnravels user behavior and conversion data, offering comprehensive website insights.FreeSEMrushEmpowers with competitor analysis, profitable keyword discovery, and content optimization.PaidAhrefsOffers detailed backlink insights, competitor strategies, and website authority analysis.PaidYoast SEOReal-time content analysis and meta tag optimization, a friend to WordPress users.Free & PaidSurfer SEOData-driven content optimization, reveals top-ranking page secrets and suggests keyword density.PaidTHruuuAssists with keyword research, SERP analysis, and tracks relevant keywords.Free & PaidAlsoAskedGenerates content ideas by exploring related questions and topics aligned with user intent.Free & PaidMozComprehensive SEO suite covering keyword research, rank tracking, and link analysis.PaidSEOclarityEnterprise-level tool providing advanced analytics and actionable SEO insights.PaidChatGPTAI-powered tool offering keyword research, on-page content, and link analysis insights.PaidDiibUser-friendly AI assistant scanning websites for SEO, speed, security, and UX improvements.Paid

Now, let’s discuss each tool in detail.

1. Google Search Console:

Features: Provides insights into your website’s performance, indexing status, and mobile usability.

Benefits: Helps identify issues, monitor backlinks, and track search traffic.

Pricing: Free tool offered by Google.

Expert Insight: Google Search Console is considered the best tool for identifying website issues. Its comprehensive features allow you to uncover indexing problems and monitor your site’s performance.

Click here to access Google Search Console

2. Google Analytics:

Features: Offers comprehensive data on website traffic, user behavior, and conversions.

Benefits: Helps in-depth analysis, goal tracking, and audience segmentation.

Pricing: Free tool with advanced features available in Google Analytics 360.

Expert Insight: Google Analytics is one of the most popular SEO tools used for data analysis and reporting. It allows you to track organic traffic, keyword rankings, and conversions, which are crucial SEO reporting metrics.

Click here to access Google Analytics

3. SEMrush:

Features: Comprehensive suite for keyword research, competitor analysis, and site auditing.

Benefits: Assists in identifying profitable keywords, monitoring competitors, and optimizing content.

Pricing: A paid tool with different subscription plans.

Expert Insight: SEMrush is highly regarded for its wide range of features, including competitor analysis and keyword research. It provides valuable insights that can shape your SEO strategy.

Click here to access SEMrush

4. Ahrefs:

Features: Focuses on backlink analysis, competitor research, and keyword tracking.

Benefits: Provides detailed insights on backlinks, organic search traffic, and content gaps.

Pricing: A paid tool with various pricing tiers.

Expert Insight: Ahrefs is known for its comprehensive backlink analysis. It helps you understand your competitors’ strategies and identify opportunities for improving your website’s authority.

Click here to access Ahrefs

5. Yoast SEO:

Features: WordPress plugin for on-page SEO optimization.

Benefits: Offers real-time content analysis, XML sitemap generation, and meta tag optimization.

Pricing: Free version is available, with advanced features in the premium version.

Expert Insight: Yoast SEO is a popular choice for WordPress users. It provides valuable on-page optimization suggestions and ensures your content meets SEO best practices.

Click here to access Yoast SEO

6. Surfer SEO:

Features: Helps optimize content for search engines using data-driven recommendations.

Benefits: Provides analysis of top-ranking pages, content length suggestions, and keyword density.

Pricing: A paid tool with different subscription options.

Expert Insight: Surfer SEO is known for its data-driven approach to content optimization. It offers insights into how top-ranking pages are structured, helping you create content that performs well in search engine rankings.

Click here to access Surfer SEO

7. THruuu:

Features: Offers keyword research, content analysis, and SERP analysis.

Benefits: Helps identify relevant keywords, analyze competitor content, and track SERP features.

Pricing: Free tool with additional paid features available.

Expert Insight: THruuu provides valuable insights into keyword research and content analysis. It helps you uncover relevant keywords and analyze competitor content to enhance your SEO strategy.

Click here to access THruuu

8. AlsoAsked:

Features: Provides insights into related questions and topics for content optimization.

Benefits: Helps generate content ideas, improve user experience, and expand on relevant topics.

Pricing: Free tool with advanced features available in the premium version.

Expert Insight: AlsoAsked is a useful tool for content optimization. It allows you to explore related questions and topics, helping you create comprehensive and valuable content that satisfies user intent.

Click here to access AlsoAsked

9. Moz:

Features: Suite of SEO tools, including keyword research, rank tracking, and link analysis.

Benefits: Assists in optimizing on-page elements, monitoring backlinks, and tracking rankings.

Pricing: A paid tool with different subscription plans.

Expert Insight: Moz offers a comprehensive suite of SEO tools that can support various aspects of your SEO strategy. It provides valuable insights into keyword research, on-page optimization, and link analysis.

Click here to access Moz

10. SEOclarity:

Features: Offers advanced SEO analytics, keyword tracking, and content optimization tools.

Benefits: Provides data-driven insights for keyword strategies, competitive analysis, and content performance.

Pricing: Enterprise-level tool with customized pricing based on requirements.

Expert Insight: SEO clarity is one of the best enterprise SEO tools that offer advanced analytics and data-driven insights. It can help you optimize keyword strategies, analyze competitors, and track the performance of your content.

Click here to access SEOclarity

11. ChatGPT:

Features: AI-powered chatbot with natural language processing for human-like conversational dialogue.

Benefits: Versatile tool for various applications, including keyword research, on-page optimization, and link analysis.

Pricing: A paid tool with different subscription plans.

Expert Insight: ChatGPT, developed by OpenAI, has gained significant popularity and is being utilized by major brands for generating ad and marketing copy, according to CNBC.

Click here to access ChatGPT

12. Diib

Features: Diib is an AI-powered SEO tool that offers in-depth insights to enhance website performance, tracks existing SEO keywords, and generates new ones to optimize online visibility.

Benefits: Versatile tool for various applications, including keyword research, on-page optimization, and link analysis.

Pricing: A paid tool with different subscription plans.

Expert Insight: Diib is renowned for its user-friendly interface and simplicity. It works as an automated SEO tool that scans websites and offers actionable insights to enhance SEO, speed, security, and user experience.

Click here to access Diib

Factors to Consider When Choosing an SEO Tool:

When selecting the right SEO tool for your needs, keep the following factors in mind:

Features and Functionality: Consider tools that align with your specific requirements, such as keyword research, competitor analysis, and reporting capabilities.

Budget and Pricing: Evaluate the cost and affordability of the tool, considering the value it provides for your SEO efforts.

User Friendliness and Support: Choose a tool with an intuitive interface and accessible customer support and training resources.

Understanding Your SEO Needs:

Before diving into the tools, it’s crucial to understand your SEO goals, scope, and current strengths and weaknesses. Consider the following factors:

Specific SEO Goals and Metrics:

Identify 3-10 key metrics that align with your SEO objectives, such as organic traffic, keyword rankings, conversions, or backlink profiles.

Track these metrics in your SEO dashboard to monitor your progress and make data-driven decisions.

Budget and Tool Selection:

Consider your budget and the type of SEO tools that suit your needs.

Over 80% of companies use paid SEO tools, while 17% rely solely on free SEO tools.

Evaluate the features and benefits offered by both paid and free tools to determine the best fit for your requirements.

By understanding your specific SEO goals and considering the available budget, you can make an informed decision on the type and number of SEO tools that will be most effective for your strategy.

Making an Informed Decision:

To make an informed decision, follow these steps:

1. Compare all the best online SEO tools to match your specific needs.

2. Check reviews and testimonials for user experiences.

3. Utilize free trials and demos for a hands-on experience.

Seek recommendations from industry experts or peers who have used the tools.

Best SEO Tools for Online Marketing

To achieve a well-optimized website and top rankings in SERPs, it’s crucial to understand your specific SEO needs. Consider your goals, track relevant metrics, and choose the right SEO tools. Start with established tools and gradually experiment with newer ones. Continuously monitor and adjust your strategy for long-term success in the dynamic digital landscape.

Remember, investing in the right SEO tools can enhance your business’s digital presence.

Have you chosen the right SEO tools for your business? Share your experiences with us in the comments section below.

Read more :- https://appringer.com/news/12-best-seo-tools-to-simplify-your-marketing-efforts-in-2024/

[sometimesanalice]

Like I Can (Part 1)

Summary: After yet another bad date and tired of swiping on apps, the Dagger Squad steps in to help you out by setting you up on a series of blind dates. Much to Rooster’s dismay.

Warnings: fuff, slight angst. Minors DNI

Length: 3.2K

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw X Female Reader

Part 2

(We’re kicking of Valentine’s Day a bit early❣️ Enjoy!)

“I’m all for growing the sport, but Brady buying an MLP team is ruining the integrity of the league. He may be the GOAT of football, but he has nothing on Ben John’s world-class pickleball game,” your date Max passionately states from his spot across from you at the Italian place he had recommended.

Or was his name Mac?

He’d already told you all about the CRBN paddle drama. At this point, you wouldn’t be surprised if he had already prepared a PowerPoint presentation on the topic complete with transitions and color-coded charts. He seems the type.

And he had yet to ask you a single question about yourself all evening.

You can tell he is gearing up for the next part of his rant, when your phone lights up on the table, the ringer on higher than you realized.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I thought I had this on silent. It’s my mom, I should probably take this,” you apologize to him, your phone already halfway raised to your ear.

“Hey, kid, how’s it going?”

“Hi Mom, I’m with someone right now. Is everything ok?” You let a little worry tinge the tone of your voice.

“Seriously?” Rooster drolly rasps on the other end of the line, “Are we actually doing this?”

“Oh no! Is she alright?” You wouldn’t consider yourself actress, but you think you’re really selling the performance with the way you widen your eyes and how you make your voice go a little tighter and higher.

“Yup, seems like we’re really doing this. What’s it this time, kid? Did grandma slip on a banana peel and then get run over by a reindeer?” You can practically feel his eyes rolling as he begrudgingly goes along with you.

“Oh my goodness, that sounds serious! How would that even happen?” you ask, shaking your head in in faux shock determined to really sell the act.

“Is everything ok?” Max-Mac whispers to you from across the table. 

His profile didn’t raise any red flags when you’d swiped on him. If anything, he’d seemed a bit more of the beige flag type. Your chats had been fine, he seemed fine, so why not meet up for a date?

What you didn’t realize until it was too late was that “Sports Enthusiast” actually translated to “Pickleball Fanatic”.

“Hold on, Mom,” you hear Rooster scoff as you pull the phone away from your ear. “I’m so sorry, there’s been a family emergency. It’s my grandmother. I really need to go,” you announce to Mac-Max grabbing your purse from the back of the chair. “Thank you so much for understanding. And good luck at your pickleball tournament!” you call back to him as you hustle towards the front door.

“I take it you’ve made your escape?” You can hear the humor in his voice, your antics are nothing new to him.

“Oh my god, was that seriously only thirty minutes? He wouldn’t stop talking about pickleball, Rooster. Anytime I tried to change the subject, he found a way to circle right back to it!” You tell him as you attempt to dig your keys out from where they were buried in your bag. “And then, he pulled up the leg of his jeans and said, I kid you not: ‘Don’t worry, this isn’t an ankle monitor, I’m just wearing my ankle weights.’ Who does that?”

“Just come to the Hard Deck. You should have canceled like I told you to in the first place. Bob and Coyote got back the other day, so everyone’s here. Well, almost everyone,” he says pointedly. “We’re more fun anyways. And Hangman has been harassing me about you, something about your fluke of a win?”

You’d kicked Jake’s ass the last time you played darts with him. Although in his defense, he had been pretty drunk that night and it was a less than fair game since Phoenix would distract him while Fanboy moved your darts on the board.

You wouldn’t be challenging him to a rematch anytime soon. Not unless the odds were in your favor, it was better to keep him on his toes and his ego in check.

Thankful for the princess parking you managed to snag when you first arrived, you unlock your car and toss your bag into the passenger seat before climbing in. Breathing out a sigh of relief to be done with Mac-Max once inside.

“You back in your car yet?” Rooster asked. He was such a worrier, but you can’t say it bothered you. You liked knowing he cared.

“Yeah, just got in.”

“Ok good, see you in a few. Drive safe, kid.”

Thirty minutes later Natasha was sliding a cold, frothy pint in front of you with a sympathetic look.

It wasn’t too busy at the Hard Deck yet, but it was still early in the evening. You knew it would pick up soon, and before long Penny would be ringing her bell on some rowdy unsuspecting customer.

“Ankle weights?” She asked, trying and failing to keep from laughing at your expense.

“Seriously, Rooster?” you shoot a glare in his direction, “Where’s the loyalty?”

“What? She was right there when I called you. A request that was your idea, if you remember,” he said as he walked up to you, squeezing your shoulder before sliding his arm around you in greeting. “Plus, it’s not like you don’t already tell Phoenix about all your escapades. You really know how to pick ‘em, kid.”

You’ve known Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw since before you had braces back when you were still wearing your hair in two braids. Your moms had been on the school PTA together at the time and had hit it off immediately.

He hadn’t been too happy about being forced to hang out with the kid who was couple years younger than him, especially one who was so clearly enamored with the cute older boy. While you’d outgrown that phase, for the most part, somethings stuck- like the nickname. 

And over the years you’d formed your own bond outside of the forced proximity of your mothers’ friendship.

He’d taught you how to throw a punch, the different ways to pitch a baseball, and to drive a stick shift. You’d taught him how to whistle with his fingers, to play Nerts, and to tie a tie (after asking your dad to teach you).

The give and take was easy with him, you both showed up for the other.

You were there the night he drunkenly fell through the glass patio door at Jason Cameron’s homecoming party. As one of the only sober people there since he wouldn’t let you drink, or let anyone else give you alcohol for that matter, you were the one to take him to the ER. “Don’t worry, kid,” he had slurred, pressing the Washington High t-shirt that you’d found in your trunk to his face to stop the bleeding, “Looks s’worse than it feels.” And you were the one to stay with him as he was stitched up. The evidence of that night still unmistakable on his face.

He was there for you when your parents had sat you down and told you they were getting a divorce. A hurricane of angst and grief, you hadn’t left your room for anything other than school for over a week when he’d let himself in your room one afternoon. Rubbing small circles on your back as he’d let you cry for a bit, he didn’t even tease you about the stains you’d left behind on his shirt. And then he’d herded you into his crappy car and drove you to the slightly sketchy amusement park an hour away with the Tilt-A-Whirl and the giant corndogs. And when he’d told you “It’s going to be ok, kid” on the ride back home, you believed him.

You had been there for him when his mom passed, and all during that dark period after when he was set on self-destruction after his fallout with Maverick. While he had tried to push everyone away, you were always the type to hold on tightly to the people that mattered.

And then life had sent you on different directions. First when he went to college and then when you did. Next for him the Navy, and then you with your own career, both of you always in motion. You two shared a connection the way people with a long history do, the kind where you could go months without talking but knowing the other person is always right there if you need them. Your camaraderie sustained by texts, email, and the occasional FaceTime.

A long-distance friendship for over a decade.

So when your boss had approached you about a promotion that was dependent on you relocating to the West Coast, you thanked whatever kismet in the universe had you packing for San Diego where he was permanently stationed.

The break up with your boyfriend at the time was entirely too amicable considering how long you had been together. He was nice, the sex was nice, your life together was nice. You had all but signed the paperwork for your promotion when you told him, but he didn’t see himself as a west-coaster and you couldn’t envision yourself as anything but. Whether you had stayed together all that time out of convenience or complacency, you still couldn’t say.

It was easy to fall back into the comfort of your friendship with Rooster. Although the lanky teen you had known was replaced with a mustache sporting well-built man courtesy of the Navy. One that had left you feeling confusingly flustered on more than one occasion, and forced to cycle through your mental highlight reel of embarrassing teen Rooster moments to keep from your mind from wandering.

He’d helped you find your apartment, taught you about avoiding the 15 Northbound, and showed you where the best place in town to get tacos was. The transition was made easy with him by your side as he introduced you to his team members who quickly folded you into their group as one of their own.

That was a little over a year ago. You liked this new life of yours in San Diego.

And while the dating pool of men you could swipe through was much larger, well, some things never changed.

“You don’t get it, Rooster. You’re surrounded by absurdly hot Naval eye candy all day,” you complained gesturing to Natasha, she raised her beer to you as thanks in response. “While you’re getting women throwing themselves at you because of the gold wings, I’m fighting for my life on these stupid apps where all the men on there are posing with fish. It’s brutal!”

You’d need to officially call things off with Max-Mac later, thinking to yourself how glad you were that you never gave him your real number, and instead signing up for a Google voice number. You were just not cut out for the competitive pickleball lifestyle.

“Bradshaw, why don’t you set her up? It’s not like we don’t know enough people who would be better options than these fish men,” Natasha asked, like it was the most logical thing in the world, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, Bradshaw. Tell Nat your super logical reasons for leaving your longtime friend to fend for herself.” You knew where this was heading, so you took a long swig of the beer Phoenix had brought you.

“Seriously, not this again.” His arm that was around you was removed in favor for pinching the bridge of his nose and looking up to the ceiling like it would spare him from the conversation.

“You started it, now tell her.”

“I need another damn drink if we’re going to do this,” Rooster mumbled.

“Me too,” chimed Natasha, clearly reveling in his misery.

“Make that three. I need to catch up.” You hadn’t even stuck around long enough to get a drink at the restaurant, and now you were ready to let loose a bit.

He grunts out some unintelligible thing and then stalks off to the bar shaking his head.

“I’m an upstanding citizen, I pay my taxes, I make a mean peanut butter brownie, and I always drive him around when the Bronco is in the shop for a tune up. It’s literally the least he could do,” you say to Phoenix as you watch him chat with Penny as she works to grab the fresh bottles.

“Oh, so this is thing,” Natasha says decidedly when she eyes the six beers he’s carrying back to the table, three bottles held by the neck in each of his large hands. His classic Hawaiian shirt fluttering with every step, your eyes briefly drifting down to his defined waist.

“Sure is,” you confirm, drawing out the word. Downing the rest of the beer from your pint glass before reaching for one of the new bottles Rooster was divvying out amongst your trio, “I’ve never asked him for anything-”

“That is a boldfaced lie. And you know it,” he cuts in, as he hands you a granola bar from his pocket, that he must have snagged from Penny. “You definitely asked me to set you up with Kyle Cooke from my baseball team in high school. I didn’t do it then, and I’m not doing it now,” he declared, pointing at you with an accusatory finger to further drive the statement home.

“Reasons being?” Natasha wheedled, a mischievous smirk on her face. You could tell she was eating this up, there were two things Natasha Trace loved most in this world: juicy gossip and giving Rooster a hard time.  

Ever the showman, he dramatically lifts up a finger, “First of all, everyone I know is an asshole.”

“I am offended on Bob’s behalf,” you countered, unwrapping the bar and taking a bite, annoyed. Hangman might fit the description, but certainly not Bob.

“Two,” he continues on, raising a second finger, and ignoring you completely as if you hadn’t just made a very valid point, “Let’s say I set you with a friend and then you end up hating them. Then you’ll judge me for being friends with them, we’ll argue, and eventually we won’t be friends anymore. Or even worse, I set you up with someone, you hit it off and date for a while. What happens when you break up? I’m left having to pick sides and walk on eggshells around you guys about the other person.”

“God, you’re such a overthinker. That all sounds totally rational, you drama queen,” you look to Phoenix for agreement, but she’s busy typing out a text message on her phone.

“And three, it’s messy as fuck. And I don’t need to hear about your trophy of a one-night stand.”

Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes, “That was one time! It wasn’t a trophy it was a gold medal.”

“Wait, what?” Confusion coloring Natasha’s features. 

“One time this guy gave me one of those plastic gold medal things on a lanyard, kind of like the ones they give out at kids soccer games, after we hooked up. I mean, kicked him out right away, but I did keep the medal. It was a good confidence boost,” you shrug.  It wasn’t exactly a high point moment for you.

After that encounter you’d definitely started scrutinizing every profile a bit harder before swiping right, or at least you thought you had been. In your defense, at least Max-Mac’s profile didn’t have a fish photo, but the bar was still clearly on the ground.

“I knew you when you wore those shirts with that big mouthed monkey on them. And that’s the kind of shit I don’t need to know about. I don’t wanna be involved. Not gonna happen, kid,” his declaration resolute.

“Well, that sure is something, Bradshaw,” Natasha states, giving him a curious look.

“What are y’all over here discussing so intently,” Hangman questions as he saddles up to your little group, tucking his phone into his pocket. 

“We were just getting into the finer details of the kid’s dating life and how I am going to fix it by setting her up with this great guy I know,” she pronounces, looking all too pleased with herself. A truly self-satisfied grin gracing her face.

Natasha Trace was probably the most bad ass person you’ve ever met, so the idea of her setting you up with someone had you sitting up straighter on the stool you were seated on, “Really?”

“Who?” Rooster demands, frowning at her.

“Yeah, I mean Bradshaw clearly has his convictions, and I respect that. However, I’m an excellent wing-woman. Seriously, I don’t know why I haven’t thought about introducing you guys before. You two would be perfect together.”

Hangman never one to miss an opportunity to rile up Rooster is quick to jump in, “Just because you fly in a two-seater doesn’t make you a good wing-woman, Phoenix. However, now that you mention it, I have a buddy who might knock your socks off. Unless you’d rather just knock boots, I’m sure he’d be up for whatever you wanted,” he shooting you a wink. “I think I’ll toss my name in the ring here too. After all, I’m very good.”

“You want to make it a bet, Bagman?” Her accent always got a little more pronounced when she went toe to toe with him.

“What’re you thinkin’, Darlin’?” he drawls suggestively with a sharp smile. That ever-present toothpick being rolled in his mouth from side to side.

“You guys are not going to be making bets around the kid’s love life,” Rooster snaps.

“The big dogs are talking, Bradshaw,” Hangman taunts as he waves him off.  

“$50 entry? The dates happen here and at the end the kid picks which date was the best. Winner takes all?” You can see the competitive gleam in her eye.

“Alright, alright. Works for me, Phoenix. I can’t wait to take your money.”

“The hell you are,” Rooster barks, still trying to regain control of the quickly spiraling situation.

Well, this had certainly taken a turn.

You find yourself reaching for your third beer of the night.

And you’re even more surprised when Hangman hollers for the rest of the team to join, and before you know it your dating life takes centerstage as the subject of the bet between the group of competitive naval aviators. Many of the others deciding to join in, never ones to shy away from a bit of rivalry.  

“What do you say? You up for it?” Natasha asks, wanting to make sure you were still on board now that her original offer had taken on a life of its own.

You look over and see Rooster looking at you like you’d be crazy to get involved in their kind of chaos. You know he can already tell what your answer will be.

“Why not?” you agree cheerily as he groans into his beer.

At least you would be spared from swiping for a while. It’s what you deserve, you are an upstanding citizen after all.

Get ready for some dates! Part 2

Written as part of @roosterforme’s #Love Is In The Air TGM Fic Challenge! 

Song Inspiration Sam Smith’s “Like I Can”.

Thank you Jordan (@gretagerwigsmuse) for letting me bounce ideas off of you!

Edit: I’ve started a tag list for Part 2! Just let me know if you’d like to be added!

[a2zillustration]

Croissant doesn’t like being under the sea OR too far in the air. This game has put them through the ringer.

| First | | Previous | | Next |

[[ All Croissant Adventures (chronological, desktop) ]]

[[ All Croissant Adventures (app) ]]

[sinkovia]

A loyal friend

Simon Riley x Fem!Reader x John Mactavish

Angst, NSFW, MDNI, abuse, mention of death, blood, toxic relationship, abusive relationship, manipulation, violence, Simon is obsessive.

As you meticulously applied the final strokes of your makeup in the dimly lit bathroom, the silence was shattered by Simon's sudden entrance. 

His eyes bore into you with an unsettling intensity, scanning your appearance with a poker-faced demeanor. Slowly turning to face him, you attempted to infuse your voice with a softness that belied the discomfort settling in the room. "Is something wrong?" you ventured, the words hanging in the uneasy stillness.

"Who are you going with again?"

"Just Sav and Amy," you responded, your reassurance attempting to puncture the atmosphere. These two friends were your sole companions for outings, a fact Simon was intimately acquainted with. 

His nod of acknowledgment seemed to carry an unspoken weight as he reached for your phone, deftly swiping to the Life 360 app to ensure your location was meticulously tracked. 

The device was returned to the counter with a quiet finality, and he exited the bathroom without uttering a word.

A deep breath failed to dispel the uneasy atmosphere as you completed your makeup. Opting for a short dress that walked the fine line between revealing and tasteful, you emerged into the living room. 

There, Simon sat on the couch, his gaze fixated on you, a palpable tension lingering in the air as you confronted the unsettling scrutiny in his eyes.

"Wear something else." There was a coldness in his tone. Despite your attempt to brush it off with a smile, his indifference lingered like a ghost in the room. "I really like the way this dress looks," you insisted, hoping to salvage some control over your own choices.

"I don't care what you like. Change." he retorted with an unyielding firmness, extinguishing any flicker of defiance that might have ignited within you. 

You walked back into the shadows of the bedroom and emerged in another short dress, this time a skin-tight, long-sleeved garment that hugged your curves without revealing much. It was a compromise you were willing to make.

Simon stood by the door, arms crossed over his chest, a sentinel of control. "Text me when you get there, and keep your ringer on," he instructed, his words hanging in the air like an unspoken threat. 

As you reached for the door handle, his hand curled lightly around your throat, pulling you closer. Your heart raced as you met his gaze, his words cutting through the silence, "You know I love you, right?"

Swallowing hard, you managed a strained smile. "Of course, sweetheart. I know that everything you do is because you care about me." His lips curled into a smile, and he leaned down, pressing a kiss on your lips before stepping aside, leaving a lingering unease in the wake of your departure.

You slid into the passenger seat of Amy's car, the quick drive to the club was filled with anticipation. Once there, you met up with Sav outside, and as a trio, you entered the vibrant venue. 

Amy took your hand and guided you to the dance floor, where the pulsating beat of the music enveloped you. Swaying to the rhythm, you let the music carry you away, while sav danced energetically beside you, lost in the melody.

Meanwhile, across the bar, Johnny occupied a booth, a solitary figure taking measured sips of his drink. His gaze remained fixed on you, a genuine smile playing on his lips as he observed your joyous movements. 

Memories of a once-close friendship flooded his mind, and he couldn't help but notice the distance that had grown between you since Simon entered the picture. Understanding the unspoken strain, Johnny harbored no resentment, patiently waiting for a reconnection.

As Johnny contemplated approaching you, his attention was diverted by something at the window. A car had parked in front of the club, and an uneasy feeling gripped him. Squinting, he moved to another booth for a clearer view. His eyes widened as he saw Simon in the driver's seat, staring at you through the large window.

For an hour, Simon remained stationed in the car, meticulously watching your every move. He scrutinized the drink in your hand and kept a vigilant eye on the men dancing around you. 

Satisfied that you were indeed only with the girls, Simon eventually drove off. Seizing the opportunity, Johnny approached the bar, ordered two drinks, and walked to where you were seated.

He slid a drink toward you, and you glanced at it briefly before refocusing on the nachos in front of you. "I have a boyfriend," you stated matter-of-factly.

Johnny's laughter filled the air, and you turned abruptly, eyes widening in surprise. "Oh my god, Johnny?" A smile stretched across your face as you stood from the stool, wrapping your arms around him. 

"How have you been? I know it's been a while since we last talked," he asked, genuine curiosity in his voice as he took the seat next to you.

"I've been good, you?"

"I've been good, just missing my best friend." The warmth in your smile faltered as you took a sip of your drink, turning back to him. "I'm sorry about that; Simon just gets overprotective sometimes."

"Overprotective or abusive?" Johnny's words hung heavy in the air, and shock rippled across your face. Blinking sporadically, you downed the shot in front of you before requesting another from the bartender. "What are you talking about?"

"Sav called me last week. She told me how she saw bruises on your neck and arms. You also haven't talked to me in nine months, and it coincidentally happened after you introduced me to Simon. I'm worried about you, y/n. Amy and Sav are worried about you too."

"He's just overprotective when it comes to other men, and he cares about me. Everything he does is out of love." Johnny gently grabbed your hand, and you flinched. His eyes bore into yours, filled with sadness. He had been your best friend for years, caring deeply for you, and seeing you with someone who didn't deserve you hurt him.

"People don't hurt the people they love." You opened your mouth to respond when the bartender arrived with your drink. After downing it quickly, you turned back to Johnny.

"I really don't want to talk about this. I just want to have a good time before I have to go back." Johnny sighed, scanning your features before getting up. Thinking he might be mad, you turned back around, staring into the empty glass. A tap on your shoulder surprised you, and you looked up at Johnny, who held his hand out.

"You coming or what?" His expression softened, and you smiled, taking his hand. Johnny led you to a spot on the dance floor, and slowly, he started moving to the rhythm of the music. 

A warmth enveloped your body, and the effects of the drinks began to take hold. Giggling, you let yourself go, moving your hips to the beat of the music. Your arms felt weightless as you surrendered to the rhythm of the night.

As the music played on, the rhythm seemed to draw you and Johnny closer, an invisible force guiding your movements. Each song served as a magnetic pull, bringing you gradually nearer until you found yourself pressed against his chest, the sensuous beat dictating the sway of your bodies. 

Your backside pressed against his front, the heat between you was palpable. Your head leaned back, laughter escaping your slightly parted lips, as you sensually moved your hips to the enticing melody.

Johnny's breath caught in his throat, captivated by the sight before him. Your face, flushed with the intoxication of the music and laughter, held a smile that seemed to light up the room. 

Your hair, tousled from the rhythmic dance, framed your features, adding to the allure. Every detail of you became a focal point in his mesmerized gaze. In that moment, the world around him seemed to slow, allowing him to savor every nuance of your presence.

As he looked down at you, Johnny marveled at the unchanged beauty that had captivated him for years. The laughter, the movement, the unfiltered joy — it was all still there, and he found himself admiring every bit of it. Time became irrelevant as he marveled at the fact that you hadn't changed; you were still as beautiful as he remembered.

You shifted your body, and with a swipe of your hips at a different angle, you accidentally rubbed the head of Johnny dick with your ass. He quickly grabbed your hips and moved you away from him. You turned back confused and furrowed your brows. 

"What's wrong? You don't want to dance anymore?" 

He laughed and thanked the club for always being dark; he had nothing to hide his arousal, which was now making a tent in his pants. You took a step towards him, and he took a step back.

"No, I want to dance, I just really need to use the restroom," you giggled, taking another step toward Johnny. However, your enthusiasm was met with a stumble as your ankle wobbled beneath you. Quick to react, Johnny reached out and steadied you, his touch ensuring you didn't fall completely as laughter continued to bubble from your lips.

"I have to pee too; we can go together. I know where the bathrooms are." Johnny nodded in agreement, and you grabbed his hand, leading him through the pulsating crowd of dancing bodies. 

Navigating through the vibrant atmosphere, you moved down a long hallway toward the restrooms. However, a sudden discomfort in your shoe made you abruptly stop, and Johnny, walking closely behind you, collided into your back.

You immediately felt it, and your eyes grew wide, you smiled and turned around, backing him behind a wall that kept you out of view from the main room. You dragged your hand over his arousal, and he flinched, grabbing your hand to prevent you from going further.

"Y/n, what are you doing?" You smiled up at him and rested your body against his. His breath hitched when he felt your breasts push against his chest. 

"You're hard Johnny, I can help you. We can make each other feel good... Simon never makes me cum. I'm just a little fuck toy for him." You drunkenly laughed and stood up on your tippy toes, leaning toward his ear. Johnny tried to sink further back, but the wall kept him in place.

"I always have to use my fingers after he finishes. I know you could make me feel good Johnny." You grabbed his hand and started moving it towards your aching core. 

His cock throbbed as the words sensually left your lips. He wanted nothing more than to cave in to his desire for you. Nothing more than to give you what you deserved, but he couldn't. Not like this, not when you were drunk and didn't know what you were saying or what you were getting yourself into. He pulled his hand out of your grasp and softly moved you away from him.

"Y/n, you're drunk. We need to get you home." Johnny's concerned words cut through the air, causing your once vibrant smile to fade. Resting your forehead on his chest, a moment of somber realization washed over you. "It should have been you. I should have picked you, not him."

His heart sank at your words, and he watched as you pulled away, disappearing into the bathroom. Doubt clouded his mind; was it just the alcohol talking, or did you really harbor feelings for him after all these years of friendship? It couldn't be true, he reasoned. You had always seen him as a best friend, nothing more.

You emerged from the restroom, finding Johnny waiting for you in the same spot you left him. "Can I have your phone real quick?" he asked, and you dug into your purse and handed it to him. "I'm going to download a fake app on your phone so you can text me."

You hummed in agreement, leaning against the wall for support as a gentle wobble overtook you. "He won't know; it'll look like a fitness app. We can text on there." The words hung in the air, a mix of the absurd and the desperate, as he sought a way to communicate without raising suspicion. 

You stared up at him with heavy eyes. You scanned over his features and traced the outline of his toned body. The heat between your legs was aching for him.

For the past nine months, thoughts of Johnny had been pushed aside in the wake of the torment inflicted by Simon. The shift from love to obsession, then to abuse, consumed your mind, overshadowing any memories of the longing you once felt for Johnny. 

However, now that you were in his presence again, a flood of emotions and desires surged through your body. It was a visceral reaction, reminiscent of the time when you and Johnny were best friends, before Simon entered the picture. The realization hit you like a wave of regret, cursing yourself mentally for letting Johnny slip through your fingers. Why hadn't you told him how you felt back then?

You wondered if he ever felt the same way.

"Did you ever-" you were Interrupted by a girl bumping into you as she exited the restroom, Johnny placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "We should go; I'll ask Amy if she can take you home." You nodded in agreement and walked beside him. Outside, Johnny briefly stopped you by grabbing your hand. "Text me when you're safe, okay?"

"I will," you assured him with a smile, waving goodbye as you settled into the car and fastened your seatbelt. Fumbling with your house keys, you eventually unlocked the door. Upon entering, you found Simon on the couch, watching TV.

"You're home early," he remarked as you dropped your purse on the floor and approached him.

"I got pretty drunk and wanted to come home. I couldn't stop thinking about you." You straddled him and pressed your lips to his. Simon was surprised, to say the least. You were never one to initiate anything sexual, but when you started to grind your hips against him, he didn't complain. He would question you about your night out in the morning. 

You wrapped your legs around him as he got up from the couch. Carrying you to the bedroom, he dropped you on the plush bed, and you started undressing yourself. 

Normally wincing when he would push into you, he slid in with ease with how wet you were from your time with Johnny. He cursed to himself as his hips slammed against yours. He thrusted into you harder, fueling his own desire, not caring to please you in any way. 

You winced before closing your eyes and letting your body relax when you pictured Johnny thrusting in and out of you. You let out a breathy moan as your core began to feel warm. 

Pleasure radiated through your body as you gripped onto his shoulders, imagining it was Johnny who was the one grunting in your ear, the one who was pounding mercilessly into your wet cunt.

You groaned out as you felt yourself tipping over the edge. You were so close, you just needed a little more for your body to melt away into intense pleasure. However, like every time you and Simon ever did anything sexual, you were deeply disappointed when he pulled out of you and finished on your stomach.

He collapsed in bed next to you, and you sighed staring up at the ceiling. Within a few minutes he was asleep. The only thing you were grateful for was the fact that he was a heavy sleeper. 

After you wiped his cum off your stomach with his t-shirt, you got up and walked to the living room, laying down on the couch and spreading your legs. 

Your mind flashed back to when you were at the club, and your body remembered the way he felt. The moment he bumped into you and the way his hard length pressed against the curve of your ass. Your fingers slipped inside you, and you imagined it was Johnny. 

Your mouth opened, and you let out a breathy whine as your fingers moved deep inside you and out again. You thrust in and out of you over and over as you wished it were Johnny's fingers filling you.

Your back arched as your other hand snaked down and rubbed circles on your bundle of nerves. You were close; you curled your fingers, and your breath caught in your throat. You groaned out Johnny's name as your orgasm radiated from your core throughout your body. Your body went limp on the couch as you caught your breath.

You walked over to your purse on the floor and pulled your phone out before returning to the couch. You opened the fitness app and texted Johnny.

"I'm home and safe for now.." 

He responded immediately.

"What do you mean for now?"

"He'll question me tomorrow about my night out but I'll be fine."

"Okay, just don't hesitate to text me if something happens. I care about you a lot and the last thing I want is for you to get hurt." You smile as the message comes through.

"Okay... I had a lot of fun tonight." 

"Me too, I miss being around you. I was happy to see you after so long." Your heart fluttered and you layed down on the couch as your fingers danced across the screen.

"We should hang out again. Amy's birthday is Friday, maybe you can meet us at the club again?"

"I'll be there."

"Cool, I'll see you then, I should get to bed before he notices I'm gone." 

"Goodnight Y/n be safe.

"Goodnight Johnny."

You made your way back to the bedroom and crawled into bed. Simon tossed and turned toward you, wrapping his arms tightly around you and pulling you close. The Grimm reality started to sink in as the seconds ticked by. As his hold on you became too tight for comfort.

You were never going to be free from being controlled by him. You always told yourself that it was just his way of showing how much he loved you. It was the only way to keep you sane. 

You appreciated that your friends were trying to help you, even going so far as to get Johnny back in contact with you, but they wouldn't be able to do anything. No amount of help would get you away from Simon's grasp.

A heavy knot of dread settled in the pit of your stomach as you approached Simon, contemplating whether to ask him the dreaded question. Amy's birthday was in a few days, and they planned on meeting up at the same club you went to a few days ago. 

His possessive nature and unwarranted jealousy made every request, every plea for a moment of independence, an internal struggle. In Simon's eyes, any desire for independence seemed like a veiled attempt to escape his grasp. 

The fear of his explosive reactions loomed over you, casting a shadow on even the simplest things. Summoning the courage to breach the subject, you hesitated, the words sticking in your throat like shards of glass. 

Each attempt to form the question felt like tiptoeing through a minefield, where any misstep could lead to a violent outburst. Simon is seated on the couch, and you approach cautiously.

"Hey, Simon?"

"What is it?"

"Um, well, you know it's Amy's birthday on Friday, and Sav and I were thinking of going out to celebrate with her." He narrows his eyes and diverts his gaze from the tv to you.

"And why would you want to do that?"

"It's just, you know, for Amy's birthday. We're friends, and I want to be there for her." He scoffs and you watch as his hand closes into a fist. You nervously shift your weight from one foot to the other.

"You're always finding reasons to go out. You trying to get away from me?"

"No, Simon, it's not like that. I just thought it would be nice to celebrate with them. It's Amy's birthday, after all"

"So, you'd rather spend time with them than with me? Is that it?" He stood up from the couch and walked in front of you. You swallowed nervously as you gazed up at him. You hesitate, carefully choosing your words.

"No, Simon, it's not about choosing. I just want to be there for Amy."

"You're always making excuses. I know what you're trying to do. You want to leave me!" He was now yelling at you and your voice began to tremble.

"No, Simon, that's not true. I just... I just want to go out with friends for a bit. It doesn't mean anything else." You started to back up and he walked over to the coffee table, grabbing a lamp and throwing it at you. You were too close to him to avoid it and it hit your nose. 

"Look what you made me do!"

You collapsed to the floor holding your bloody nose as tears streamed down your face. Simon kneeled in front of you and pulled your hands away from your face.

"I'm so sorry baby, I don't know what came over me. I just get overprotective at times, you know I didn't mean it right?" You quickly nod your head as tears continued to stream down your face. He wraps his arms tightly around you as your body trembles against his.

"You better not be lying to me. I'll really make you regret wanting to go out if you are." 

"I'm not, Simon. I just want to go out for Amy's birthday, that's all." he cupped your face in his hands and made you look up at him. 

“You look so pretty like this, all teary-eyed and vulnerable for me.” he reaches up and wipes the blood trickling from your nose before kissing you. 

The night had finally arrived, and as you finished getting ready, you quickly grabbed your purse. Making your way to the front door, you found Simon standing there, hand outstretched. Without a word, you handed him your phone, and he efficiently checked to ensure your location was on before returning the device to you. 

"Be home before twelve." You threw your phone in your purse and nodded.

"I will."

You hopped into Sav's car, turning up the music while she pulled out of the driveway. Upon arrival, you left your purse in the backseat of her car as you hurried into the club. Your eyes eagerly scanned the crowd for Johnny, but he was nowhere in sight. 

Unbeknownst to you, outside the club, Johnny sat in his car across the street, a silent observer of the familiar scene unfolding. His gaze followed Simon's arrival, mirroring the routine from the last time. Patiently, he lingered for an hour, watching you through the expansive glass windows, before finally deciding to leave.

As Simon's car pulled away and turned the corner, he swiftly exited his vehicle and made his way into the club. Inside, you were in the midst of dancing with Amy when you felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you smiled upon seeing Johnny. You wrapped your arms around him, teasing, "You're late."

"I know, I'm sorry. I didn't know what to wear," he admitted with a sheepish grin. Your gaze dropped to his jacket which looked similar to yours, and you couldn't help but smile. "Trying to be like me?"

"Maybe," he responded with a playful twinkle in his eye, the familiarity of your banter sparking a sense of warmth and comfort in the crowded club.

Amy exchanged a knowing smile with Sav, and they leaned in to inform you that they were going to order some drinks. You nodded in acknowledgment and turned your attention to Johnny, the familiar beats of the music inviting you to dance. 

Engrossed in the rhythm, you failed to notice that Amy and Sav hadn't returned. Unbeknownst to you, they were dancing on the other side of the club, intentionally giving you the space to be alone with Johnny. The vibrant lights and pulsating music created a cocoon around the two of you, as if the world beyond the dance floor ceased to exist.

You were lost in the music, and you turned around, your back against his chest. You grab his hands and place them on your hips as you sensually grind your hips against him. His grip on your hips tighten as you rub against him harder. 

With each passing second, his arousal grows against the curve of your ass. His forehead dropped to your shoulder, and he shuddered out a breath, calling your name in a whisper. You turned around in his embrace, meeting his gaze as he held you.

"Yeah?"

His eyes moved from yours to your lips, a subtle intensity in the air. His gaze lingered on your lips for a few heartbeats before reconnecting with your eyes. Slowly, he leaned down, and you closed your eyes, anticipation building between you.

Before your lips could meet his, the deafening sound of gunshots echoed through the club, jolting both of you. Instinctively, you both ducked to the ground. You cursed to yourself assuming it was another driveby as it frequently happened at this club. 

His hand found yours, and he led you to a nearby table. Chaos erupted as people rushed toward the front door, seeking an escape. However, Johnny took a different route, guiding you through the back.

Still tightly holding your hand, he led you across the street to his car. You looked back and saw Amy and Sav getting into their cars and you let out a sigh of relief. With swift movements, you strapped yourself in, and Johnny wasted no time driving away from the chaos left behind. 

The distant sounds of sirens filled the night as he navigated the streets, ensuring a safe distance between you and the unsettling events at the club. The laughter lingered in the air, a shared relief after the adrenaline rush, as Johnny turned the corner, heading to his house just two minutes away.

You hopped out of the car, wrapping your jacket around you as he fumbled with his keys. Stepping into his house, the familiar scent greeted you, triggering a wave of nostalgia. You missed the comfort of his home, the familiarity of his presence.

Bagel, Johnny's German shepherd, emerged through the doggy door that led to the backyard. With his tail wagging in excitement, he approached you. Kneeling down, you embraced him, and he reciprocated with joy, showering your hand with affectionate licks.

"Hi Bagel, aw, you missed me? I missed you too," you cooed, standing up and giving him a reassuring pat on the head. Bagel, brimming with energy, dashed back into the backyard, prompting laughter from you and Johnny as you observed him running laps around the yard.

Your eyes were drawn to the shelves in his living room adorned with framed photos of the two of you together. A smile crept onto your face as you scanned over the memories captured in those pictures. Johnny's voice interrupted your thoughts, making you jump. You turned around to face him.

"It's been a while since you last came over," he remarked.

You looked down to your hands, a shy smile playing on your lips. "I know, I'm sorry."

His hand moved slowly to your cheek, preventing you from flinching. His fingers massaged the back of your neck, and his thumb softly traced against your cheek. 

"Don't be sorry. I'm just glad we're together again. I missed you so much." The sincerity in his voice resonated in the warm atmosphere of the familiar space, as the weight of past regrets began to lift.

You gazed up at him and the way he was looking down at you made your insides burn and the familiar wetness began to pool between your legs. He closed the distance, taking a step toward you, as his other hand cupped your cheek. 

A sigh escaped you as you leaned into his touch, savoring the warmth and familiarity of his hand against your skin. When you opened your eyes, your gaze dipped momentarily to his lips, the anticipation building before traveling back up to meet his eyes. Without hesitation, your lips met his.

He wasted no time in kissing you back. His lips moved against yours with a hunger, a deep yearning that mirrored the emotions that had been silently brewing between you for years. 

He backs you against the wall and groans softly into the kiss as his hands roam over your body, tracing every curve and hollow. His touch was a blend of roughness and gentleness, a manifestation of raw passion that matched the intensity of the feelings you both had harbored for each other over the years. 

The kiss became an expression of longing, a culmination of emotions that had been suppressed for too long, finding release in the heat of the moment. He lifts you and your legs immediately wrap around his torso, the movement causes your bodies to grind against each other, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine.

He walks towards his bedroom and gently lays you on his bed and the both of you waste no time in ripping each other's clothes off, leaving them scattered across the floor. Your head meets his plush pillow, and his mouth moves from your lips to your neck. 

"You don't know how long I've wanted this." You breathlessly mumble out as his lips connect with your neck.

"I'm yours y/n" 

Your heart races in anticipation as he trails kisses down your neck and shoulders, nipping and sucking lightly at your sensitive skin. His soft hands roam over your body, tracing the curves of your hips and ass before gripping them firmly. 

His hand snakes down to your heat and teasingly plays with your folds before thrusting his fingers deep inside you. Your body shudders as his fingers penetrate you, filling you with a sense of fullness and pleasure. 

You grip his shoulders tightly, arching your back in response. He continues to thrust his fingers in and out of you, finding your G-spot and pressing against it, causing you to moan even louder. His room is quickly filled with the sounds of your needy whines.

"Your so wet," he groans, his voice rough with lust.

Your body tenses as you feel his warm breath on your sensitive flesh. You grip the sheets beneath you as he begins to lap at your juices. His tongue swirls around your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You can't help but moan loudly, your hips bucking against his face.

"Oh god Johnny" You feel the familiar warm sensation building up as he lightly sucks and flicks his tongue continuously over your clit. You gasp, your body tensing even more as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge. 

You tighten your grip on his hair, urging him to keep going. The pleasure is almost too much to bear. Your walls contract tightly around his fingers, and he quickly replaces his fingers with his tongue. 

"Johnny I'm-" You can feel your muscles start to spasm uncontrollably, and then you're over the edge, crying out his name as you erupt in a wave of bliss. Your legs tremble and your moans echo throughout the room as you ride out your orgasm against his face.

Your breathing is ragged, and you can feel the warmth of your release coating his tongue. As the waves of pleasure subside, he pulls his mouth away from you, leaving you spent. You lean your head back against his pillow, catching your breath.

Johnny's lips find their way up your body. His warm breath fanning against your skin sends goosebumps over your body, and when his lips finally meet yours, you can't help but melt into the kiss. 

You gasp feeling his cock rub against your sensitive clit. He shifts his hips, dragging his shaft teasingly over your entrance. With a deep groan, Johnny pushes himself against your wet opening, filling you up completely. You cry out in ecstasy as he buries himself to the hilt in one swift motion. 

His thick cock stretches and fills you, claiming you as his own. Waves of intense pleasure ripple through your body, every nerve ending on fire. He begins to move, his hips pumping in a steady rhythm. A breathy groan escapes his lips as he moves inside you, his hand gripping your hip while the other cradles your cheek making sure your gaze never leaves his. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoes through the room.

"Fuck y/n, you feel so good." 

You cry out as he hits that perfect spot inside you, your walls pulsing and quivering around his cock. His hips pick up the pace, pounding into that spot that continues to push you towards the edge with each thrust. You feel the bed creaking under the force of his movements. 

You watch as beads of sweat form on his forehead, his muscles tense and flex with each powerful stroke. You can feel the heat from his body, enveloping you in a sensual haze.

Your walls clench tightly around him, milking his cock as he picks up speed. The sound of slapping skin fills the room, matching the erratic pace of your breathing. You arch your back, meeting his thrusts with equal force. Your nails dig into his skin as he continues to drive you into his bed with each thrust of his hips into your wet needy cunt.

The tension builds inside you, threatening to explode. Just as you think you can't take anymore, he drives himself deeper and harder into you. His fingers move to your clit and rub small circles.

The sensation is overwhelming, and you scream out his name as your body is wracked by tremors and spasms. Your second orgasm consumes you from within as your walls clench tightly around him, milking his cock of every last drop of his essence. 

As the last of your cries die away, he pulls out groaning, and pumps himself, wanting to release himself on your stomach. You quickly move in front of him and take his thick veiny cock in your hand. Milking him against your tongue, he whimpers when your lips close around his shaft, sucking every last drop of cum he had to offer. 

You both collapse into bed, and his arms gently wrap around you, bringing you flush against him. You rest your head on his chest and gaze up at him as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear and sighs.

“You know what this means right?” You slowly nod your head and prop yourself on your elbow.

“I’m not going back there Johnny. He’ll kill me.” He cups your face and leans in, kissing you softly before wrapping his arms around you and bringing your head back to his chest. 

“We’ll go to the police tomorrow and you can tell them everything. You can get a restraining order or press charges. We’ll find a way to make sure he can’t get to you okay?” He combed his fingers through your hair and you nodded. As your mind was consumed with thoughts of Simon you eventually drifted off to sleep.

Simon checked the time on his phone, and it displayed 11:58; you still weren't home. Concern and frustration etched on his face, he glanced at your location, his eyes widening in disbelief as he discovered that you were no longer at the club. 

He grabbed his keys and dialed your number, but his attempts to reach you went unanswered, each call sent to voicemail. Checking your location again, he noted that you hadn't been active on your phone since leaving the house.

Driven by a mix of worry and possessiveness, Simon got into his car, determined to find you. Following the coordinates on his phone, he arrived at the address where your phone was located. 

He walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell, unaware of Sav silently watching from behind the peephole. Her heart sank and she backed away from the door, hoping the creaking floorboards wouldn't betray her.

Minutes passed in tense silence before she heard footsteps and the familiar sound of a car door. Still on edge, she cautiously approached the front door, peeking through the peephole once more. To her relief, Simon was nowhere to be found, prompting a deep sigh of relief.

"Looking for me?" His voice sliced through the air, freezing her in place. 

She didn't bother turning around, knowing exactly who the voice belonged to. In a desperate attempt to secure her safety, she reached for the lock on the front door, but before she her fingers could reach the handle. Simon seized a fistful of her hair, dragging her back and throwing her to the floor. 

Her attempts to get up were met with a swift kick from Simon, forcing her back down. The atmosphere shifted from tension to dread as Simon's anger erupted, and Sav found herself at his mercy.

"Where is she?"

Sav coughed, clutching her stomach as waves of pain radiated through her entire body. Despite the agony, she attempted to crawl away, but Simon seized a fistful of her hair, yanking her face toward him.

"Where is she?"

Sav defiantly spat in his face, uttering, "Fuck you."

Simon laughed before his knuckles collided with her jaw. Her body flew to the floor again and she groaned. He kicked her again and she cried out. "Just tell me where she is and I'll stop." His tone was cold and unforgiving but Sav wasn’t about to rat you out like that. 

If he was doing all of this to her she couldn't even imagine what you would go through if he found you. She wiped the blood from her nose and tried to get up again but Simon wouldn't let her until she told him where you were.

"I wish y/n was as loyal as you."

This went on for two hours before she finally stopped moving. Simon caught his breath as he searched her house trying to find you but you were no where in sight. He found her phone and tried a few different passwords before walking over to her body. He had a difficult time trying to use her face to unlock her phone from how swollen it was. After a few tries he finally got it.

He immediately went to her messages with you and his hands began to shake as he read over them. 

Thank you for inviting Johnny…

When we were dancing I felt him get hard… 

God he was so big…

I’m so embarrassed Sav, I felt him up by the restrooms and told him to fuck me. I’m never drinking that much again…

His breathing became labored and he stood up, pacing back and forth as he went to her message with Johnny.

The information he found was enough to reveal that Johnny lived only two minutes away from the club. Fueled by a mixture of rage and determination, he tossed the phone to the ground and swiftly exited through the back door, retracing his steps.

Climbing into his car, Simon navigated his way to the club. Upon arrival, he fabricated a story, claiming that you had been abducted by a man from the club a few hours ago. The manager, concerned, allowed him access to the surveillance footage. Simon meticulously noted down the make and model of Johnny's car along with the license plate.

For the next three hours, fueled by a relentless obsession, Simon drove past every house within a two-minute radius of the club. Parking his car in the driveway next to Johnny's, he checked the time on his phone – it was now five am.

You awoke to the insistent sound of the doorbell, reluctantly stirring from your sleep. Groggily checking the time, it read five am. Puzzled by who could be at Johnny's house at such an early hour, you shook Johnny awake.

"I think someone's at the door."

Johnny, still half-asleep, dismissed it, saying, "It's probably just the neighbors complaining about Bagel again. They always do this; just ignore it. They go away eventually." The frantic barking of Bagel in the backyard seemed to support his explanation. You lay back down, attempting to close your eyes, but the persistent doorbell rang again.

Sighing, you decided it might be best to apologize to the neighbors and get back to sleep. Throwing on your underwear and Johnny's shirt from the night before, you made your way down the hallway. As you passed Bagel, you noticed him pushing frantically against his doggy door, which was locked. Frowning, you unlocked the door, opening it a crack.

Your eyes met Simon's smiling face, and in an instant, your heart sank, and your blood ran cold. Attempting to slam the door shut, Simon pushed against it with force, the edge slamming into your nose and sending you tumbling to the ground.

"JOH-" Your desperate attempt to call out for him was cut short when Simon straddled you, wrapping his hands around your neck and slamming your head against the tile floor. The back of your head burned as you gripped his hands. Your legs were moving frantically underneath him as you were desperate to breathe. 

"You thought I wouldn't find you?" He slammed your head against the floor again, and your grip around his hands loosened. Your head began to spin, and your vision blurred.

"You can't fucking get away from me Y/n" He picked your head up again and slammed it against the hard floor. The hard thud echoed throughout the room, and your hands slipped from his grasp around your neck. Bagel had cracked the glass window after ramming into it, and his bark only became more frantic.

Johnny jolted from his sleep at the sound of Bagel. He had never heard him bark like this before. When he noticed you weren't in bed, his heart sank. He quickly got up and grabbed his boxers and sweats on the floor, frantically putting them on. 

When he stepped out of his room into the hallway that led to the front door, his heart sank as he watched from a distance. Simon picked up your head and slammed it against the floor again.

Johnny's blood ran cold when he saw the pool of blood around your head and your limp body under his. He ran and tackled Simon off of you, punching him over and over again. Simon was bigger than Johnny, so he easily flipped him over and punched him. 

Johnny did his best to block the blows, but they were starting to wear on his arms. He flinched when Simon punched his stomach.

Simon found his opening and wrapped his hands tightly around Johnny's neck. Bagel finally broke through the glass doggy door and ran to Simon, his mouth clamping down around his neck. He tugged against his flesh and tore into his neck. Simon fell back and held his neck as blood began to spill from the open wound.

The sounds of Simon choking on his own blood and Bagel fiercely tearing into his neck became distant echoes as Johnny rushed to your side. 

His body spasmed as he attempted to breathe but as Bagel continued to tear into his neck his body eventually stopped moving. 

Tears welled in his eyes as he grabbed your wrist, desperately checking for a pulse. 

The blood flowing from your head seemed to intensify by the second. With great care, Johnny picked you up and sprinted to his car, leaving drops of blood behind as he moved.

Within seconds, he arrived at the hospital, rushing inside with you, a trail of blood marking his hurried path. A nurse attended to his own injuries while you were swiftly taken into surgery. 

Johnny's nerves manifested in the bouncing of his leg, a restless rhythm born of anxiety. If you didn't make it, he knew he would bear the burden of blame for the rest of his life. 

He should have known, should have heard you. Tears welled in his eyes as he took a seat in the waiting room, texting Amy and Sav, but only receiving a response from Amy. The waiting room became a somber space filled with tension and the weight of uncertainty. Hours dragged on as you remained in surgery. 

Amy came to the hospital, attempting to provide comfort to Johnny, but she grew concerned about Sav's lack of response and left to check on her. Amy asked Johnny to inform her when you came out of surgery.

After a grueling ten hours, the doctor emerged and conveyed the news to Johnny that you were stabilized, and the surgery had gone well. A sigh of relief escaped him, but his joy was short-lived as the doctor explained that you would likely be in a coma due to your injury. 

Johnny rushed to your room, where tears flowed freely at the sight of your head wrapped in bandages. He gently took your hand in his, overwhelmed with guilt.

"This is all my fault, y/n. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I didn't hear anything. I'm sorry I noticed so late. I'm sorry I locked Bagel outside. This is all my fault," His forehead rested against your hand. The door to your room opened, and Amy entered with tears in her eyes.

"She's dead."

Confused, Johnny glanced at you and then at the heart monitor. "What are you talking about?" Amy's eyes were wide as tears silently streamed down her face.

"Sav... She's dead." Johnny's eyes widened in shock as Amy walked into the room, taking a seat next to you. 

“She gave me a spare key to her house…when I walked in, she was on the floor in front of the door. Her…her face was all…I didn’t even recognize her at first. Simon killed her.”

Overwhelmed by grief, she sobbed into her hands, and Johnny, grappling with the sudden loss, got up to comfort her. 

“How long did she suffer?”

“Hey he can’t hurt her or anyone anymore okay? He’s gone and Sav is at peace.” He hugged Amy and she sobbed into his chest.

“The fact that she died the way she did probably means she didn’t give him what he wanted. She was loyal until the end, that’s something to be proud of.”

She nodded and took a deep breath as she wiped her tears. Amy didn't stay for long, needing time alone to process the whirlwind of emotions crashing down on her.

Johnny remained faithfully by your side for weeks, spending his evenings at the hospital after work and staying with you until visiting hours came to an end. 

This routine persisted for ten long months until one afternoon, while Johnny dozed off in the chair beside you, your eyes fluttered open. Weakness washed over you, but you made an effort to turn your head, attempting a smile when you spotted Johnny beside you.

"Johnny," you whispered breathlessly, and he jolted awake. His eyes widened in disbelief as he leaned forward, frozen in the moment. A smile spread across your face, and he gently grabbed your hand.

"You're okay?" he asked, almost in disbelief, as if the reality of your awakening after such a prolonged period seemed too good to be true.

"Yeah," you laughed softly, and a wide grin illuminated his features. Slowly, he leaned in and wrapped his arms around you, a cautious embrace to avoid causing any harm, even though your body had fully recovered a few months prior.

Johnny continued to stand by your side throughout your journey to recovery. He attended all your physical therapy sessions, driving you to appointments with your therapist. The road to recovery was long, but he promised to be there every step of the way, and true to his word, he kept that promise.

A few months after you were discharged from the hospital Johnny asked you out on a date. He spent the day driving you around town, taking you to breakfast, a walk in the park and even a pottery class where you made each other cute mugs. He finished off the night by taking you to a nice restaurant for dinner. 

As the months passed you and Johnny went out on more dates, and eventually he officially asked you out when the time felt right.

You moved in with him shortly after, trying your best to move on with life and leave the past behind. However, there was something you had been meaning to do since your discharge from the hospital. Hand in hand, you and Johnny walked through the cemetery to Sav's grave. Tears welled in your eyes as you traced the words on her headstone.

A loving Daughter, Sister, and most loyal Friend.

You wiped away the tears, resting your hand on the stone. "I'm so sorry, Sav. I'm sorry for getting you involved, and I'm sorry you couldn't live the life you always dreamed of." 

Placing a bouquet of flowers on the soft grass, you sat by her grave, sharing how you moved in with Johnny and how great he had been to you. Johnny smiled behind you, appreciating the way you spoke to her as if she were still there.

After an hour, you both went home and cooked dinner. Occasionally, you'd drop a few pieces of raw meat on the floor for Bagel, much to Johnny's amusement, teasing you that he wouldn't eat his dog food anymore. Sitting down at the dinner table, you both enjoyed the meal you cooked together.

That night, as you lay in bed with Johnny's head nestled in your neck, you gently combed your fingers through his hair as he peacefully slept. A smile graced your face as your other hand ran through Bagel's fur. 

This was the life you had always dreamed of since childhood, the life you had imagined with the man you had been in love with for as long as you could remember. You smiled, closed your eyes, and silently thanked Sav for bringing Johnny back into your life.

10 years later….

Your little girl was skipping beside you, you held her left hand and Johnny held her right. The little bows in her hair plopped up and down as she jumped. 

“Are we almost there?” She curiously asked.

Johnny smiled and squeezed her hand. “Almost sweetheart” with a few more steps you stopped and your daughter turned to where you were looking. Her eyes sparkled with joy.

“Mommy we have the same name!”

You smiled as you sat down, running your hands through the soft grass. “Your name is very special to me sweetheart, she was my best friend.” Your eyes danced across Sav’s headstone and your heart ached. Even as the years passed you missed her so much. 

You felt Johnny's hand on your shoulder and you reached up, giving it a gentle squeeze. “What happened to her?”

“She died protecting me.” Sav took a seat next to you on the grass and picked the small dandelions in front of her. She started tying them together to make a little crown.

“I can protect you mommy. We have the same name so it will be like she never left.” You smile and tuck a strand of hair behind your daughter's ear. Johnny squeezed Sav’s little arms and she giggled. “You have big muscles too, you’ll be mommy’s strongest protector.”

“I have bigger muscles than you.” You both laughed at her comment. She carefully placed the small flower crown on the headstone and leaned her head against you. 

You draped your arm around her, and together, you gazed off into the sunset. Reflecting on the journey that brought you to this point, you felt a profound sense of gratitude. Not a day went by that you didn't wake up and silently thanked Sav for everything she did – for reuniting you with the man who had once slipped through your fingers and for protecting you until her last breath.

[domini-porter]

I Wrote You Some Smut: Beautiful, Brilliant, Talented

(Rizzoli&Isles, F/F, rated E for Even though it's supposed to be sorbet smut it's still extremely emotional and everybody's using sex to deal with trauma and vice versa like always happens when I try to be just a little horny as a treat)

Have some smut! Why not! Love you!

“Who’s this?” She should’ve tried to say it less aggressively. Less personally. But she can’t, because Maura’s wearing one of her no-underwear dresses and she’s done a smoky evening eye and her hair’s all pinned up in that way she’d quantitatively determined achieved maximum aesthetic appeal while requiring minimum effort to take down. Because she’d had the waiter leave the wine bottle, two almost-empty glasses on the table.

Because she’s on a date, and Jane had been given the postgame play-by-play enough times to know she’s just about to pull out her black Amex and suggest they get a black car back to her place.

“Alison,” the woman across from her says just as personally, holding out her hand over the remains of the sorbetto.

“Am I about to get a call?” Maura asks, already fishing for her purse, all crisp professionalism.

“Uh, no,” Jane manages. Still staring at the woman across from her. Alison. “Just following up on a lead. Sorry to interrupt.”

“We were just leaving,” Alison says, giving her a sharp little smirk, one Maura doesn’t see. “No apologies necessary.”

“You’re sure it’s not something you need me for?”

Maura’s looking up at her. Whatever she’d done with her eye makeup makes her irises shine like molten gold. And even though Jane doesn’t know anything or care anything about makeup, Maura sure does, and even though Jane actually prefers it when she’s not wearing any makeup at all, she knew exactly how to make herself look . . .

“No,” she says. Coughed to cover the crack in her voice. Could swear this Alison chick gives a little snort in her direction. “No,” she says again. “Have, uh. Have a good night.” Halfway across the dining room before Maura can form a reply.

“Who’s that the Doc’s with?” Korsak mutters as she stomps up next to him, the kitchen manager emerging through the swinging doors. “Make a pretty hot couple, you ask me.”

“Nobody fuckin’ asked you,” she growls. “Uh, yeah, Detectives Rizzoli and Korsak. We were in yesterday, about the murder of Patricio Robles. We just had a few more questions, if there’s somewhere quiet we could talk?” ____________________________________________

The kitchen manager hadn’t had anything to say that the GM and the floor manager hadn’t told them yesterday. Waste of fucking time. She’d fumed all the way back to the station, the kind where even Korsak knew not to approach, not if he wanted all his limbs intact. Had just grunted at his offer of finishing the contact report so she could go put her feet up.

Instead she’s laying in bed, thinking about what Maura’s doing right now. Not just thinking about it. Imagining it. Her date—Alison—had been the sort of sleek, polished, high-class type Maura liked in men, so it wasn’t the most shocking thing. Not like when Korsak had pointed out, in that tactless way he had, that if you put her in a Sox tee and rubbed a little dirt on her, she’d be a dead ringer for Jane.

Jane hadn’t noticed it during their brief, spiky interaction, but she chalked that up to the unexpectedness of the whole situation. Maura on a date, not just with a woman, but at the restaurant whose prep cook had been rather creatively murdered in his backyard not three days ago. Not that Maura had any reason to know that; the body had been assigned to another ME, so it was just the first of several unnerving coincidences, that just got more unnerving the farther along they went.

And now she’s lying in bed, unable to keep her stupid brain from shaking it around like a terrier with a rat. And when she looks down at her phone, she’s opened the home-security app she’d had a couple tech officers install at Maura’s place a year or so ago. State-of-the-art cameras throughout the house, with high-end audio. Remotely-programmable locks and security codes. The works.

She’d made Jane an administrator on the account. Or, rather, she’d declined to remove her once it was all set up. And even though it’s reprehensible, what she’s thinking of doing, that doesn’t keep her finger from tapping in the access code. Scrolling the list of cameras. Stopping when she reaches the one she’s looking for.

MBed

Her finger hovers over the button for a second, the bad gnawing feeling coming in two distinct flavors. Maura would never forgive her if she found out. Ever. She’s doubting if she can forgive herself, frankly.

But the way Alison had stuck out her hand. Had introduced herself, matching exactly Jane’s challenging tone. Like she already knew exactly who Jane was.

She jabs at the button. A fresh veil of sweat popping up along her hairline as the camera connects. Guilt and dread and something else.

The audio comes in first. Just rustling sounds for a second. Maybe Maura’s alone—

The video pops up. She isn’t.

The moan comes through Jane’s earbuds at the exact second the live feed starts. Maura’s moan. She’s on her bed. Still wearing her dress, but it’s shoved up around her waist. She’s propped up on her elbows. A head of dark hair between her parted thighs. Alison’s kneeling at the edge of the bed, naked, bobbing enthusiastically as Maura’s gasps and moans get louder, more urgent.

Alison’s hand sliding up to palm a breast. Maura whining, her head dropping back, her hips bucking up against Alison’s mouth. One hand flying to the top of her head, fingers tangling in her wild hair, forcing her mouth to stay pressed right where it is as she pants and moans and jerks hard with a cry, collapsing backward, arching her back as Alison continues to lick and suck—the cameras are good enough that Jane can hear the sounds of her lapping the wetness from between Maura’s thighs—until she pushes Alison’s head away with a shiver.

“God you taste amazing,” Alison says, sitting back on her heels as Maura pants on the bed. “I still can’t believe she—”

“Don’t,” Maura manages. “You know the rule.”

A sudden bolt of anxious bewilderment cuts through the ugly, sour guilt and loathing and shameful, squirming arousal, but it doesn’t make her feel better. Just amplifies all that bad shit. She.

She is her. She knows it in her gut. Her gut, which is currently churning like a paint mixer as tall, slim, dark-haired Alison lets out a wry little scoff from the foot of the bed. “Mm. No talking about her. Just being her. I know.”

It’s right then that the phone slips from her shaky, sweaty hand to her lap. She sits there frozen, just listening.

“That’s a little reductive.” Maura sounds like she’s stretching. The rustling of blankets.

“I prefer to think of it as the essence of the situation. You know I specialize in the baser desires. Finding exactly what it is you really want, and giving it to you.”

A lump in her throat now. Sweat cold and clammy on her skin.

“Is that how you’d characterize it?” Maura’s voice farther away. The click of her closet door opening.

Alison lets out a throaty little chuckle. “Nothing about you has ever been base, darling, is that what you want to hear?”

Jane can’t quite make out what Maura says next. Something like you know what I want to hear.

“I’m just teasing, anyway,” Alison says. “I know you like it, Maura. When I tease you.”

“—part of the scenario,” Maura’s saying. Back in the room. Jane’s still just listening. Can’t pick up the phone. Can’t get her body to listen to her, since it’s entirely focused on listening to Maura and her date, or whatever this Alison chick actually is.

“No, Maura,” she’s saying now. Low. Rumbling, almost, but her voice isn’t naturally that deep so it sounds a little forced, if you ask Jane. “It’s not a scenario. I really was just teasing you. I’m not pretending to do anything or be anyone. You know how selective I am about who I spend my time with. I’m here because I want to be. Because I want you.”

More rustling. What sounds like kissing. A faint metallic clanking.

“Good,” Maura says, and the way she says it—clipped, almost hard—is exactly the way she’s been talking to Jane lately, when they’re exchanging case information in the halls or at the elevator or whatever weird margins they’ve silently agreed are the neutral zones. “On your knees.”

Jane’s got the phone in her hand again before she even realizes it. Breath coming in high, thin little huffs as she stares at the screen. Jaw dropped. Mind completely blank; she’s just traded her body being frozen for her brain.

Maura’s got her dress off. She’s naked, but she’s still in her heels. Jane’s seen her naked before, or mostly, but never in a sexual way, and it’s like being shoved off the cliffs at Acapulco, seeing her now. Her body’s perfect, that much was obvious even with clothes on, but it’s emphasized by the contrast of the black patent of her heels against her smooth pale skin, lean and soft and unbroken until the other thing she had on. Around her waist. It looks like black leather, too.

Her hand’s wound through Alison’s hair again, but this time she’s using it to guide Alison’s mouth along the thick flesh-colored dildo sprouting from the leather harness. Staring down at her as Alison stares up, Maura clearly working the fake cock down her throat more forcefully.

“Good,” she breathes. “Just like that.”

Alison’s moaning around it. Jane’s aware that she needs to stop watching right this fucking second for so many fucking reasons—most important and most fucking obvious is she’s watching Maura fuck some woman who looks uncomfortably, if not uncannily, like her, almost certainly because she looks like her, and maybe this woman’s supposed to pretend to be her—maybe that’s her job—while Maura shoves a silicone dick down her throat. That’s without even getting into the Maura and the fucking-a-woman of it all. Without getting into how the woman Maura’s fucking is probably a hooker on top of everything else.

“On the bed,” Maura growls, and the sound of it—hot, dark—makes the air catch in Jane’s throat again, in a different way. Or not different. Fine. But Jesus Christ, is she really about to watch Maura . . . do that . . . with some undoubtedly insanely high-end escort—

“Oh fuck, Maura,” Alison’s moaning and Jane’s still watching, jaw still dropped, as Maura positions herself behind her, hands on her thighs, and begins working the cock inside with sharp little thrusts, Alison whining and trying to take it deeper into herself when Maura abruptly stills her hips.

“Language,” she says sharply, and all the air Jane’s been unconsciously trapping in her lungs escapes in a hard puff.

Alison just whimpers. It’s almost exactly the sound Jane’s making as she watches Maura, watches the sharp thrusts of her hips, the swaying of her breasts. Watches as she leans forward, wraps her fist in Alison’s hair and pulls, Alison crying out as her head jerks back, Maura’s other hand moving between her legs.

“Tell me what you want,” Maura breathes. “Say it.”

“T-touch me,” Alison says. No, not says. Begs. “Touch me, Maura, please.”

“Like this?” She does something that makes Alison’s arms give out, sending her moaning and whimpering into the duvet. “Tell me.”

“Y-yes,” she pants. “Oh f-fuck, Maura, so-so good—oh—”

Jane’s seen lesbian porn before. She grew up with two brothers, after all. But she’s never, like, watched it. She hasn’t watched a ton of porn at all, really; it’s always so fake. But especially not two chicks. Because she’s not gay. So it would just be gross; not to mention wasted on her.

But what she’s helplessly staring at on her phone, the sounds being pumped directly into her ears, it’s not porn. It’s Maura, her coworker and best friend—maybe; she’s not actually sure what’s going on with them right now—and a woman who might be a pro, but a pro who really seems to love her work, fucking so hard Maura’s headboard’s bouncing off the wall, and it’s making her feel hot and dizzy and so turned on she’s afraid to uncross her legs. But that’s just . . . animal brain, right? People breathing and gasping and panting right in your ear, making sounds they only make during sex, that’s just biology—

“Oh god, Maura, yeah—yeah, harder, h-harder—oh f-fuck, Maura—”

Maura’s got her by the hair as she comes, shuddering, mewling, practically; rutting and swiveling her hips against Maura’s and then Maura’s gasping, arching, her head thrown back as she starts to shake, as she thrusts once, twice, before collapsing on top of her.

Jane rips the headphones out of her ears. Throws the phone across the room, not not trying to miss the sharp corner of the dresser. Sits there on her bed, motionless except for the thudding of her pulse, the thin, scratchy efforts of her lungs to get enough air, while she tries desperately to get the throbbing between her legs to subside.

Tell me what you want.

“Jesus Christ,” she mutters. Forces a breath out between clenched teeth. Squeezes her eyes shut but she just sees Maura, fucking a woman who looks like her. Except, no. When she squeezes her eyes shut, she sees Maura fucking her.

“No,” she says. Tries to command herself but it comes out like a whimper. “Stop it.”

There were too many things. She’d just seen too many things to try to do anything but stuff it all way down in some dark corner of some locked room. She’d known she’d see something she’d regret, but she’d figured maybe just, like, that first part, when it was just—

Maura, surging forward to clutch at her scalp as she gasped and whined and came in her mouth

“Stop it,” she says again. Louder this time, but her voice cracks. Her clit throbs. She can feel her underwear, hot and soaked through. She’d guessed Maura might be into chicks too years ago—she was too specific in her descriptions of some of her experiences to not be evading a lie—but since Maura’d never brought any of that up and Jane had been extremely fine with letting her keep that stuff to herself it was always easy to just ignore it. And since she wasn’t even like a tiny bit gay, despite what everybody kept seeming to forget, it was fine that she and Maura hung out like they did and joked like they did and looked at each other like they did. Other people just didn’t get it.

Well, they used to do that stuff. More, anyway. It had been . . . weird lately. They’d been annoyed with each other like, all the time. Like they were always in the middle of a fight, but she couldn’t remember what about. Not that not knowing why they were fighting meant she was willing to lose, obviously. But it was tense and awkward and now Maura was fucking a hooker who looked so much like her even Korsak had pointed out the resemblance.

She shudders. Grimaces. At least thinking about Korsak’s knocked back the almost-painful throbbing in her clit.

As for why she’d hit connect on Maura’s home-security app, well, she doesn’t exactly know. She’d known what she’d might see—some of it, anyway—but even though she didn’t want to see it, knew Maura would consider it a massive violation of trust and privacy and she’d be right, she’d done it anyway. To—to punish herself, maybe. Even if she didn’t quite know exactly what for. She was Catholic. She knew what automatic self-flagellation felt like. Breathing, basically. No reason necessary.

But after that. The stuff she’d heard. Seen. Maura hadn’t just taken a date home for some post-sorbet sex. She’d taken this woman on a date specifically to have sex with her afterward. And by the way they’d seemed at the restaurant, and the way they’d talked—what little talking they’d done—in her bedroom, not for the first time.

She manages a full, shaky breath. Looks at her phone, half-buried at the top of her hamper. The headphones are tangled around her foot, emitting a faint, tinny squeak. Not like people groaning and panting. Like people talking.

Another surge of that ugly, curdling guilt as she flicks the headphones up enough to grab them. She won’t watch. Just listen. That makes it only half as reprehensible, right?

“—know I’m a trained therapist,” Alison’s saying. Jane’s brow furrows. “And you never want to talk, which is fine, and I’m not pressuring you to, but you’ve called me four times this quarter. Not that I don’t genuinely look forward to spending time with you—”

“I do appreciate your thoughtfulness,” Maura’s saying. She sounds dressed, somehow. “Really. And your intelligence and professional qualifications are certainly things I find appealing in any partner. But there are very particular ways I manage my emotional disruptions, and this is one of them. It’s important for me to maintain a strict separation according to the internal boundaries I’ve already developed with my regular therapist.” A pause. The rustling of fabric. “Though I realize,” she says, and it’s low, practically a purr, “perhaps I haven’t adequately expressed my gratitude for the exceptional level of service you provide.”

Soft giggles. Low murmurs. Jane can tell where they’re headed. Yanks the earbuds out again.

So not only is Maura’s usual escort a shrink who looks like Jane, she’s there as some sort of . . . therapy session? And Maura’s called her four times this quarter?

She can’t help the wry little snort that escapes her at the thought that of course Maura’s on-call call girl would mark her time by the fiscal year. Maura probably found that appealing, too. And with what she’s probably raking in, it makes sense. Not that she can make Maura hiring a prostitute make sense, even if she seems to be the type who can afford to limit her client list to the ones she actually does like having dinner with.

Unless, of course, Maura wants something very, very specific. Which she very, very clearly does. Even if Jane’s only a little bit sure of what one part of that something might be.

She’s got one of the headphones pressed to her ear again. Not on purpose. It’s just—it’s just there. Maura’s murmuring and gasping, not saying words so much as making hot little noises. Alison’s voice is muffled; she’s speaking quietly, but that’s not the only reason.

“—so beautiful, Maura,” she’s saying. “—make me so wet . . . just look . . . you,” and then Maura’s groaning, whimpering. “Want—wanted to touch . . . all night. Especially when—” and Maura’s letting out a harsh, keening cry of pleasure. “Wanted to do that so . . . right there, right in front of her—”

Even though Jane’s pretty sure there was some mention of a rule, as soon as Alison breaks it Maura’s crying out again, her breath coming sharp and ragged as she whines yes, yes, yes.

“You’re beautiful,” Alison says again, once Maura’s gotten her breath back. “Brilliant. Talented. And not to be too crass, but you make me come like a freight train. So as long as my services are desired, I’m thrilled to provide them.” Maura says something too quietly for Jane to make out. “Mm, you too, honey. But I hope she starts behaving herself, even if it means I don’t get to have dinner with you as often. I’ll show myself out, hmm? Code still the same?”

Something beeps loudly. Her headphones. Dying. The sound cutting out before abruptly blaring from phone in the hamper, Jane scrambling to close the home-security app, suddenly overwhelmed by the shame that had been lurking since she’d opened it in the first place.

She catches a glimpse before she manages to swipe the app closed, though. Maura in her silky purple robe, in the armchair by the windows. Feet tucked up under her. Chin rested on her hand. Alison, dressed like she’d been at the restaurant, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of her head.

Despite all the high-level sex she’d watched and the awkward-for-her revelations she’d heard, it’s that one tiny little moment that actually makes her feel bad. Not sad or mad—those things too, though—but bad. Watching a woman who looks so much like her being so casually intimate, swinging in and dropping a kiss like she’s off to work, like she’ll see her at home later, overwhelms the squeamishness about Maura and the sex stuff and instead she just feels raw and sour and jealous and sick. So maybe she’s not the one fucking Maura, but she is the one who does all that easy, low-key stuff. Casual contact. Check-ins. She’s the one who lets herself out. She’s the one who programmed that fucking code.

I hope she starts behaving herself.

She scowls. What the hell is that supposed to mean? It’s not like she’s the one who started this whole fight. She doesn’t even know what they’re fighting about.

She jabs the charger into her phone before that dies too. Scowls at it on her nightstand. Shoves it under her pillow. Stomps out into the living room, shuffling around for the half-empty bottle of scotch she’s got in there somewhere. Swallows two fingers even though she hates it, since it stops the cold, jittery feeling. Dulls it a little, anyway.

She goes through all the usual motions of getting ready for bed—pajamas, teeth brushed, face washed—even though she’s the farthest from tired she’s been in a long time. And all trying to fake having a normal night’s gotten her is in her bed, in the dark.

“Fuck,” she mutters, flopping over for the tenth time. “It’s your own fucking fault, Rizzoli.”

The thing is, it being her own fucking fault doesn’t make her brain stop playing the whole thing on a loop. Maura, forcing her mouth against her as she came. Telling her to get on her knees. Alison, begging to be touched. More. Harder. Until she’d come screaming her name. And then whatever it was she’d wished she could have done right in front of Jane, the thing that made Maura gasp yes, yes, yes.

She can’t remember the last time she was this wet. If she’s ever been this wet. Her hand’s down her cutoff sweatpants without her brain telling it to go there, a fingertip brushing her slippery clit making her cry out; she’s about to come and she’s barely started.

Good. Just like that.

A high, thin whine forces itself through her nose as every stroke makes white lights flash behind her eyes. She’s so wet it’s hard to work her clit with any precision but she’s so turned on it doesn’t matter so she shoves her hand between her legs, rubs in rough, awkward circles, rocking her hips as she gets herself off thinking about Maura. About the sounds she made as she came, right in Jane’s ear.

“Oh fuck,” she gasps as her orgasm smashes into her, so hard and fast she has to yank her hand away from her abruptly unbearably-sensitized clit.

You’re beautiful, brilliant, talented, and you make me come like a freight train.

Jane’s had enough dealings with enough girls at enough price points to know that they all flatter, but they hardly ever sound like she had when they do it. And sure, Alison’s well-trained and well-paid but Jane listens to liars for a living, and she herself knew three of the four of those things she’d said about Maura were true, so that last one probably was too. And it was Maura. Who was perfect at everything. So it would make less sense for her to be—

“What the fuck are you doing, Rizzoli,” she hisses to herself, yanking her sticky fingers fully out of her pajama shorts. The post-orgasmic clarity rushes in just as fast as the orgasm had; a fresh squeeze of curdling guilt, of nauseating shame as she realized exactly what she’d spent the better part of two hours doing. Spying on Maura. Not just spying on her. She could recite precisely which half-dozen sexual assault codes she’d book herself under.

Puking was better than jerking off, somehow. Probably the Catholicism. Always preferable to suffer, particularly when you’ve actually sinned. And at least once she’d puked she’d be able to sleep. It always worked. That was something. Right?

Once she’d slept, though, she had to wake up. And go to work. And since Maura’d been so . . . emotionally disrupted she’d had to, uh, schedule an emergency session on a Tuesday, that meant Maura would be there too.

At least they were fighting, for some reason. And at least Jane had an actual reason to avoid her now. _________________________________________________________

Even though she’s got an actual reason to avoid her, she keeps finding herself nosing around the basement. Making up reasons and pretending to be mad about them. Maura’s doing autopsies for other cases half the time she slinks by, and she doesn’t give her time to notice, just skulks back up to the bullpen to jab at her computer for a while until she can’t take that any more, either.

The last time she stomps downstairs it’s right after five. Most of the morgue techs have gone home, the one she can see looks to be wrapping things up. Maura’s office light is on. Her door’s closed like it usually is when she’s trying to get her paperwork done for the day.

Jane paces around the concrete hallway for a few minutes, until the tech pushes out through the swinging doors with a little nod. It’s just her and Maura now. She’s not totally sure why it is she’s kept coming down here all day when the last thing she wants to do is be alone with her, but if that were actually true she wouldn’t have paced around the hallway like a cornered jungle cat until the last employee had left for the night. She wouldn’t have been down here at all.

It’s just that she can’t stop thinking about it. The fucking, sure, but the whole thing. Maura had some sort of professional relationship with a high-class call girl who looked just like her. And even though she’d only found out the details through incredibly unethical and frankly illegal methods, found them out she had, and it had filled her gut with lead all fucking day and if she doesn’t do something about it—anything—she’s going to choke on it.

Like she always does when she’s doing something so stupid even her reckless brain would have objections, she just moves so fast her brain can’t keep up. She’s knocking on Maura’s office door before she’s even registered entering the morgue. She’s inside before she’s even registered Maura’s come in.

She’s got her pinned up against her desk before she’s even registered how she got her to stand up in the first place. Her brow’s furrowed. She’s leaning away until she can’t any more. Until she’s got her hand square in the middle of Jane’s chest. Gives her a hard shove. “Jane, what the hell are you—”

A harsh scoff as she tries to stop herself stumbling backward. A flush of hot anger. Embarrassment. “Isn’t this what you want from me?”

“No!”

It’s the edge of fear in her voice that breaks it. Jane blinks. Blanches. Backs away until she bumps into the far wall, knocking against one of Maura’s carved African masks, its fringe of bone beads rattling. “I’m—Maura, I’m—”

Maura’s staring at her. Eyes like saucers. “What was that?”

She’s cringing into a tight, pathetic little ball. Feels pathetic, anyway. “I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do.” A pause. “This is about Alison.” It’s not a question.

“I guess,” she mumbles.

“Jesus Christ, Jane.”

It’s the profanity that makes her look up. Maura’s got her arms folded tight across her chest. Mouth set in a tight line. Her eyes are dark. Furious. Disappointed. Jane watches to see if she’s going to say anything else, but she just sighs. Shakes her head. Yanks her jacket and purse down from their hooks as she stalks out of the room.

It takes several long minutes—Jane’s not sure how many, but the automatic overhead light shuts off at some point—before she stops feeling numb. Starts feeling just cold, instead. Sour and sick. Not just because Maura had rejected her, because of why she had. Because she’d figured out it was about the hooker who looked like her right away, even if Jane’s ninety-nine percent sure she doesn’t know about the whole Peeping Jane incident. Maybe it was just that Jane had seen them together on what was very obviously a date, which would probably have been enough on its own.

She chuckles bitterly, jolting when it causes the overhead light to flicker back on. It very much fucking was enough on its own, seeing Maura on a date with her. Not even her, specifically, even though the resemblance thing had just been a little weird at first. Any woman. Seeing her on a date with any woman would have been enough to make her do exactly what she did.

Wanted to do that right there, right in front of her.

Alison had meant her. Whatever thing she’d done to make Maura whimper and moan, she’d wanted Jane to know she was doing it. And just like what she’d said about Maura’s, uh, skills, Jane had no reason to believe she was lying about that, either. So she had known who Jane was when she’d introduced herself.

You’ve called me four times this quarter.

Another sour lurch in her gut. She’d been wrong about what Maura wanted. It wasn’t actually her. Just someone who looked like her. Who’d do anything she asked. Who’d beg her for more, without having to pull teeth the whole time.

Oh god, Maura, yeah—yeah, harder, h-harder—oh f-fuck—

She scowls. Swipes quickly at her eyes. Slinks out the door, through the empty morgue, holding her breath all the way to the parking garage. _________________________________________________________

She’s just about to haul herself off the couch to get another beer when there’s a sharp knock at the door. She freezes. She’s on her third night of wallowing and she wasn’t expecting anyone so the place looks like shit. At least she’d dragged herself into the shower after work.

Another knock. “I know you’re in there.”

Maura. If it was possible for her to freeze any more solid, she would.

“I have a key but please don’t make me use it.”

That cracks her enough to get off the couch. To the door. Eye to the peephole. She looks normal enough in her cashmere trench coat. Annoyed. Jane gulps. Unlocks the deadbolt. Turns the knob.

Maura breezes past her. Sets a tote bag on the kitchen counter, then turns to face her. Hands on her hips. “I’m incredibly upset with you.”

Jane’s cheeks go hot as a fresh wave of shame crashes over her. “You said.”

“Yes, and my saying so doesn’t seem to have done anything but make you feel sorry for yourself.” She’s glancing around the place. The dirty dishes. The beer bottles. The couch, which has clearly been doubling as a bed. “So we’re trying something different.”

On your knees.

“Uh,” Jane manages, her throat abruptly dry. “Like what?”

Maura just sighs. Shakes her head. “For a decorated detective you’re certainly very good at playing dumb.”

And then she takes her long coat off. And under her coat’s just fancy lacy underwear.

“Maura—”

“Enough, Jane,” she says sharply. The sound of it causes all the air in Jane’s body to evacuate at once. Not to mention her, and her smooth curves, and the parts of her barely constrained by scraps of lace, and the way she’s looking at Jane, and maybe Jane’s not gay, but she’s never wanted to touch someone, for someone to touch her, so bad in her life, if the way her thighs are sliding against each other’s any indication, at least. “Go get your bedroom tidied up. Five minutes.”

“Maura—”

“Or I leave.”

The way she says that chills Jane again. The way she says it, the leave means more than your apartment. The leave means or I leave you, Jane.

“Four minutes and thirty-six seconds.”

Despite the bewilderment and anxiety and fear and abrupt, half-painful arousal she’s bolting for her bedroom. Shoving dirty clothes into her closet. Smoothing the covers on the bed. At least she hasn’t slept in it since she changed the sheets a few days ago in a fit of shame about jerking off to mental images of her best friend.

Her best friend, who’s out in the living room, wearing expensive black lingerie and patent-leather stiletto heels and nothing else. Who’d commanded her to get her bedroom tidied up, or that was it for them.

As she’s swiping crumbs into the drawer on her bedside table, it hits her. Maura didn’t want her to want her like that. Well, she did, obviously. But the stuff with Alison, the way she’d been not just angry, but frustrated when Jane had tried to kiss her—it wasn’t about romance. Not as much as it was about being the one in control for once.

Tell me what you want, she’d said to Alison. And not in a sweet, supportive way. Like she was sick of having to coax it out; so sick of it she’d pay thousands of dollars to someone who’d just obey her without whining about it. Would do what she wanted, when she wanted it.

Jane would do anything for her. Anything. Would kill for her, and had. Would die for her, and almost had, more than once. But she still whined and complained and scoffed and dragged her feet and said no to her a lot more often than she said yes. Especially, she realized as she was kicking errant running shoes under the bed, during this most recent fiscal quarter.

Alison was therapy. To keep Maura from murdering her. Transference, the shrinks called it.

But now Maura’s in her living room. Wearing expensive lingerie and high heels and nothing else. Nobody to transfer those feelings to. Just the person who deserved them. And when Jane’s finished tidying her bedroom, she’ll go back out, and—

And what?

Have sex with Maura, that’s what.

She freezes again, an empty water glass in her hand. She’s going to have sex with Maura. Because Maura wants to. And Jane will do anything for her, if it means she won’t leave.

And even though she’s not gay, even though she’s only thought about Maura like that for real for a few days—let herself think about her like that, fine—when she thinks about the soft sounds of Maura’s pleasure right in her ear she gets a hot pulse of lust right between her legs. She’s beautiful. Brilliant. Talented.

And not to be too crass, but you make me come like a freight train.

“Fuck,” she breathes as her nipples harden under her soft BPD t-shirt, rubbing against the fabric.

She glances around her room. Tidy enough, even if the closet doors are barely holding it together. Glances toward the living room. Her hands abruptly clammy. Her heart beating like a whole rhythm section. Swallows hard, then realizes she’s running out of time.

Her hand slips on the doorknob. Swipes it on her shirt, the material shifting over her stiff nipples making her groan a little. She’s nervous—scared, more like—but the desire’s starting to overtake it, at least, even if she has no idea what she’s supposed to do. Maura will tell her. That’s the whole point.

She creeps back into the living room, letting out a hard exhale when Maura’s still there. Still in her fancy underwear. Still looking annoyed, but Jane’s starting to see it as kind of . . . hot. Her body thinks so, anyway, given the gush of wetness between her legs as Maura cocks her head, raises an eyebrow. “Done?”

“Uh,” Jane manages, even though it comes out as a squeak. “Yeah. Done.”

“Good.” That sharp tone. Jane’s knees threaten to buckle but she catches herself just in time. Maura notices, though, and her arch little half-smirk sends another shiver of lust through her. “Get that.” She nods at the tote bag on the kitchen counter. Stalks into the bedroom, heels clicking on the parquet.

Jane crosses to the island. Gets the bag. Peeks inside, more than a little anxious about what she might find. Lets out a little puff of relief when there’s no dildo. Lube, though. Scarves. A towel, since she’s never trusted anything in Jane’s house to have been washed recently, which Jane can’t fault her for. Her purple robe.

She takes another long, shaky breath. Collects the bag, heads back into her room.

Maura’s standing by the bed. Still with that hard look on her face. “Put it there,” she says, pointing to the bedside table, Jane obeying at once. “Do you understand what this is?”

This being this whole situation. Maura, almost-naked in her apartment. What they’re about to do. Why. Jane nods stiffly.

“Say it,” Maura says. Clipped.

She swallows hard. Tries to. A lump in her throat. “Whatever you want,” she rasps.

“Good.”

Another wave of arousal. She whimpers.

“I know you’ve never done anything like this before,” Maura says, and she’s still crisp and bossy but she also sounds like Maura, the Maura who’d never hurt her, and that makes Jane feel both better and more turned on, which is confusing, but not the worst thing. “If you don’t want to, tell me now, and I’ll leave.”

Jane knows what that means. The same thing it meant earlier. Not that she’ll leave the apartment, that she’ll leave-leave. And maybe it’s unfair, Maura’s ultimatum, but in order for it to be truly unfair they’d have to be at some other place in their relationship. Not this frustrating, annoying place, where they’ve pretty much run the course on friendship, and the only option left is to either move to the next level or pack it in. And just the thought of this being it, truly, is so awful that it’s not even a question.

And even though she’s not gay, she’s never been so turned on in her entire life.

She takes another shaky breath. “What do I do?”

Maura gives her a long, appraising look. “Take your clothes off.”

She whimpers a little, more from the way Maura’s looking at her, the tone of her voice, than the idea of getting naked, which she’s never especially liked. But if she pushes back at the very first instruction—

She can see Maura’s eyes darken as she strips off her t-shirt, her loose basketball shorts, the cotton boy shorts with the gusset already soaked through. Can see Maura seeing that, too, and flicking her tongue across her lips. Stands there, goosebumps popping up across her whole body as Maura examines every inch of her. She’s never felt so exposed before, but something about it makes the spark in her belly swell up. Maura’s got exquisite taste, obviously, and Jane can’t help feeling like some expensive object she’s trying to decide if she wants to buy.

“Beautiful,” Maura murmurs at last. “So beautiful, Jane.”

And she’s slinking closer. The air between them compressing. Getting warm, then hot as Maura stops maybe six inches away from her. So close Jane can feel the heat radiating off her. Can smell her. She’s not wearing perfume. It’s just her, and even though Jane knows her scent better than almost anything she’s still letting her mouth drop open to breathe her in.

And then Maura’s touching her. A soft, warm palm running from her throat down her chest, sliding between her breasts, across the flat of her belly. A little whimper when she pulls her hand away.

“Touch me, Jane,” she breathes. Lifts Jane’s shaking hand. Places it on a lace-cupped breast.

Soft and firm and round. Silky under her fingertips. The nipple stiff under her palm. The lace smooth, luxurious as she begins to move her hand in little circles, watching Maura intently to make sure she’s doing it right.

Maura’s eyelashes are fluttering. She’s breathing shallowly through parted lips. Jane gives her a squeeze—fuck she’s got amazing tits—and Maura sucks in a little gasp. 

The longer she’s got her hand on Maura, the more of Maura she wants to touch. Lifts her other hand. Lets it hover over Maura’s other breast until Maura gives her a brief, jerky nod. Groans as she grasps that one too, both hands stroking and squeezing and rubbing little circles over her hard nipples through the soft lace.

Maura’s gasping more than she’s breathing. Her hips are starting to rock in time to Jane’s hands on her breasts. “Can,” Jane manages, “can I?”

“C-can you what,” Maura huffs.

“Can I take your clothes off,” she gets out in a rush. Not that clothes is particularly correct for what she’s got on, but what Jane means is I want to feel you.

“Yes,” she breathes, and the sound of it—hot, ragged—sends another ripple of arousal through Jane, another whimper through her nose. She slides her hands—still shaking, but more from anticipation—around Maura’s sides to the clasp between her shoulder blades. Manages to pop it open on the first try, which she attributes more to luck than anything else, but brushes past it in favor of sliding the lacy bra off. Taking in the sight of her. Returning her hands to her breasts, all soft skin now. Her stiff, pale-pink nipples scratching against her palms. The little strangled cry as Jane gently pinches one between two fingers, gives it a little roll before releasing it.

“Good?” she rasps.

“Good,” Maura breathes. “Good.”

She stuffs down her little smirk of pride, since she’s not here to prove to Maura she can figure out how to touch another woman, particularly since she’s got plenty of experience with what feels good on her own body, and Maura will tell her what to do when she wants her to do something. So she can be proud of herself, but validation from Maura’s not the point. Well, it is. It’s just she’ll get it when she’s got Maura shaking and shivering and gasping her name. Which she wants more and more the longer she spends touching her. Breathing her in. The scent of her clean skin. Of her arousal. Jane can smell it now. Tart and rich and heady.

She’s incredibly squeamish about the idea of putting her mouth there. About how wet it will be. How it will taste. But the scent of Maura’s sex is starting to fill her nose, her mouth, and if that’s what she tastes like—

And she’s sliding her hands off Maura’s breasts—both of them letting out bereft little whimpers—and running them down her taut belly, along the flare of her hips, hooking her fingers at the elastic of her fancy underwear. Looking at her again. Her eyes are closed but her mouth’s open and her hips are rocking toward Jane’s hands so she takes that as a yes.

She’s just about to start tugging when Maura reaches out. Grabs her wrist. “Wait,” she breathes.

Jane freezes. “Did I—”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Maura says, and it’s Maura her best friend, not so much Maura who hires hookers to get her frustrations out. “I want to make sure, Jane.”

Jane bites her lip. Gulps. Nods. “I’m sure, Maura.”

And then Maura’s threading her fingers through Jane’s. Tugging at her hand. Closing the distance between them. Her mouth on Jane’s.

Maybe it’s supposed to be sweet, that kiss. Reassuring. And maybe it is, right at first, but even though Jane’s never kissed another woman before she’s hooked from that very first second. At least on kissing Maura, soft and slick and warm and suddenly their tongues are touching and Jane’s got her hand around the back of Maura’s neck, she doesn’t even know how it got there, and their bodies are pressed together and it’s fucking incredible, the way she feels, and it’s fucking incredible, the way she tastes and the little sounds she’s making and Jane’s giving herself over to it, to the feeling and the sound and the taste of her, moaning into her mouth as she slides her free hand under the lace, as her fingers plunge into the slick wet heat between Maura’s legs, whining as Maura gasps, bites her lower lip, hips jerking when Jane’s fingertips brush against the hard, throbbing nub of her clit.

“God,” Maura groans, breaking the kiss, Jane’s hand still stroking her, Maura starting to waver and buckle against her. “Just—just like that.”

She’s so slippery and hot and it’s so good the way she feels, the way she’s whimpering and rocking against her, and Jane’s pressing her lips to her throat, dragging her tongue across the dampness already springing up along her skin. Sucking at the place her pulse thrums the hardest. Hand still stroking between her legs, but the scrap of lace is becoming more of an obstacle the more confident she gets. Pulls her hand away, Maura huffing out a little whine that elides into a hot groan when Jane takes a shuddering breath, lifts her glistening fingers to her mouth.

She does taste like she smells. More, though. Better. Jane’s eyes slide closed as she sucks the arousal away. When she opens them Maura’s looking at her with a mix of anticipation and faint anxiety; another little flash of Maura her best friend. Who wants this to be good for her, too, both because it’s polite, and because if it’s not, well, that’s the end of them regardless.

Jane feels a little stab of anxiety herself. Draws a shaky breath. Reaches out to cup Maura’s chin. To kiss her again. Soft. Sweet. Reassuring. When she pulls away, though, she’s more scared than when all of this started, because the way she’d kissed Maura just then was real.

Not that all of this wasn’t real. But it was suddenly a lot more real than her doing anything to keep Maura from leaving her. It was why her first impulse had been to do anything. Anything she wanted, if it meant she’d stay. Because that’s where they were. Why it was so hard and spiky. Because they’d run out of reasons to just be friends, but the thought of her not being a part of Jane’s life every day was unbearable. Which meant—

“Can I,” she rasps again. Only a little shaky. “Please?”

Even though she hasn’t said what she’s asking to do, Maura nods. Because even though this was supposed to be about Maura being the one in control for a change, the thing is, Maura’s always been the one in control. Because she knows that Jane will do anything for her.

And anyway, Jane thinks hazily as she starts pressing kisses to Maura’s throat, her chest, moving slowly down her body, taking her time to lick and suck and nip and taste, to find out what makes her shiver and what makes her moan, maybe what Maura really wants is for Jane to just do it.

So she does. Lays hot kisses down her belly as she sinks to her knees, breathing in the sharp scent of her arousal as she comes to a stop directly in front of her lace-covered sex. Her hands are shaking as she hooks the elastic waistband again, but it’s an equal mix of nerves and anticipation. The taste thing’s been resolved, the wetness thing’s less and less stressful, considering how much her mouth’s watering. Maura’s making those soft little noises that shoot straight to her own clit. So mostly it’s about if she’ll be any good, or if she’ll embarrass herself.

“Jane,” Maura moans. “I want—”

And Jane’s got her lacy panties around her ankles before she can even say it. Drawing in a shuddering breath as she stares at the bare skin, the swollen, glistening pink flesh. Places a shaky hand on her hip. Presses her lips to the smooth skin of her inner thigh. Breathing in the arousal, filling her nose, her mouth, her lungs, her brain. Maura shifts her posture, legs parting wider, Jane growling low in her throat as a trickle of arousal slips down her thigh. Drags her tongue along it. Doesn’t stop this time.

It’s so soft and warm and slick and good, her pussy. Jane’s tongue is mapping it at once, sliding along the creases and folds, both hands holding Maura’s hips now as she shudders and rocks against Jane’s mouth. Gasping with every swipe of her tongue.

Jane hisses a little when Maura’s hand flies to the top of her head, twisting a handful of her hair as she sucks Maura’s clit into her mouth. It’s so hard and hot and throbbing it would be impossible to miss even if its alleged mystery wasn’t wildly overstated; she knows where hers is, so finding Maura’s hadn’t been particularly difficult. None of this is particularly difficult, it turns out; she just does what she’d want done to her, paying special attention to the things that make Maura react with particular emphasis. Like when she sucks Maura’s clit into her mouth, flicks the tip of her tongue over it. That makes Maura shake and cry out and twist her handful of Jane’s hair; makes a hot  gush spill down Jane’s chin. Makes Jane lap and suck and growl against her.

“Like—oh—like that, Jane,” she gasps. “Right—right there, don’t st-stop, don’t—”

And her thighs are quivering and she’s rutting her hips against Jane’s mouth, her tight grip on Jane’s head keeping her right where she is as she sucks and flicks and growls until she feels Maura’s pussy start to flutter and pulse against her tongue, as Maura throws her head back with a strangled cry, as she comes and comes in Jane’s mouth, Jane not slowing down the pace of her flicking tongue as Maura keens and jerks and comes again.

She’s not gay, but she knows, instinctively, to ease off, to draw her tongue in long, languid strokes along the length of Maura’s pussy, still fluttering and twitching. She pauses to tease at her tight opening just for a second, relishing Maura’s little huff, before moving away, pressing soft kisses to her thighs, rubbing slow circles on her hips with her thumbs, Maura panting and wavering and tugging lightly on her hair, asking her to stand back up.

Her mouth is on Jane’s in an instant; her still-trembling body pressed tight against Jane’s as she sucks the remnants of her own arousal from Jane’s lips. Her hands sweeping across Jane’s back, cupping her ass, Jane whimpering into her mouth as she slides a finger along the cleft, barely teasing at the seam of thick wetness between Jane’s legs. As she rocks her hips against Jane’s, their arousal mingling and smearing across her belly, her thighs, the sensation causing another hot gush.

She’s not sure what happens next, but Maura will tell her.

“So good, Jane,” she purrs in her ear, making Jane’s knees give out just a little. “So good.” She’s moving her hand around. Slipping it between them. Between Jane’s legs, the first stroke of her fingers across her aching clit making her yelp and whine and writhe. “Do you want me to make you feel good?”

Tell me what you want. Say it.

“Y-yeah,” she manages. “Please, Maura.” Maybe she should be embarrassed by how desperate she sounds already. She’s not, though, because she is desperate, and Maura knows it, and trying to lie about her feelings is a big part of what got her into this whole thing in the first place.

“Do you know what you want?”

She shakes her head. “What-whatever you want.”

She does something with her hand. Something that makes Jane see stars. “Good,” she murmurs, low and breathy. Right in Jane’s ear. “On the bed.”

“Uh,” Jane gulps. “H-how?”

Maura looks briefly surprised, then smirks. “On your back.”

It feels awkward, vulnerable being naked on top of her blankets, another person staring at her, but the other person is Maura, who would never, ever hurt her. Who’d spent thousands of dollars to find an outlet to keep from hurting her, maybe. And now the only thing she wanted from Jane was to make her feel good. To do the thing they’d been missing. The thing whose absence had become so glaring, so awkward, so enormous and uncomfortable that they’d been bumping up against it for months and blaming each other for the bruises. It was fuck or farewell, and now that she’d made Maura come in her mouth, now that Maura was climbing onto the bed, settling between her parted knees, the fact that farewell had even been on the table—

“I want to fuck you, Jane,” she says, and it’s possible she comes a little just from that. “But I want to make sure you’re comfortable with it.”

“Comfortable with, uh, with what?”

“Penetration,” she says, and even though Jane was pretty sure that’s what I want to fuck you meant, it’s still vaguely squeamish to hear her say it so plainly. “I want to feel you come while I’m inside you.”

That’s way less squeamish, though it sounds at least ten times dirtier coming from Maura’s mouth than it would just about anyone else’s. Maybe that’s why she can feel fresh wetness running down her leg. A whimper escapes her; her knees fall farther open.

“Is that what you want, Jane?”

“Yes,” she whispers. Not because she isn’t sure, but because she can’t really get any air into her lungs. “I—I want you to fuck me, Maura.”

Maura gasps a little, like she hadn’t actually expected Jane to say it. Her eyelashes flutter. “Good.” She gazes down at Jane for a long moment, lips parted. “So beautiful,” she murmurs, sliding her hands up Jane’s legs, along her inner thighs. “You’re so beautiful, Jane.”

She squirms. She can manage the nakedness and the frank discussion of what they’re doing to each other, what they want from each other, but Maura calling her beautiful makes her want to dissolve into the mattress.

“You are,” she murmurs. “And I want to be able to tell you.”

She squirms again. Grimaces. “Okay.”

Maura smiles. A real one, not her sharp little smirk. That makes Jane feel like dissolving too, because that’s real, too. “I’m not just interested in you because I find you attractive,” she says, stroking along her thighs, teasing at the crease, sticky with arousal. “You’re a brilliant investigator”—she shifts forward, presses her lips to the soft, sensitive skin high up on Jane’s inner thigh—“and you’re dedicated to justice”—the other thigh—“and even though you make me crazy, I can’t stop wanting to be with you.”

She stops Jane’s mind from latching onto that last part by dragging her tongue along Jane’s slit, hips bucking up as she gasps, moans, clutches at the blankets. Does it again, flicking just barely over her clit, before moving her mouth up, pressing kisses to her stomach, her ribs, making her huff and whine as she draws a nipple into her mouth, worries it with her teeth before releasing it, sliding up and up until she’s flush against Jane, her mouth against Jane’s ear.

“I know you know about Alison,” she breathes at the same moment she’s sliding fingers along Jane’s wet folds again. “Have you figured out why?”

“Be-because,” Jane stammers, sucking in a sharp breath as Maura rubs a tight little circle around her clit. “Because it was that or—or murder me.”

“Hmm,” Maura breathes in her ear, the heat of her breath causing Jane’s hips to buck again, Maura’s hand sliding off her clit, one finger teasing at the tight ring of muscle. “That’s one way of looking at it. Do you want to know another way?”

Even though Jane should absolutely not want any details about why Maura’s been hiring a hooker who looks like her, she does. Because it’s her fault, Alison. That Maura’s gotten to this point. “Yeah.”

“Good,” she breathes again, right as that one finger pushes inside, Jane crying out, hips thrusting up to meet Maura’s hand. “Because I’m so afraid, Jane. All the time.” She’s sliding her finger in and out, slowly, all the way. Jane’s brain’s a little scrambled, what with getting fucked by Maura as Maura explains why she’s been fucking a hooker who looks like her, and it sounds like it’s going to be about feelings, which seems kind of unfair, since she’s at the mercy of sensation right now, and that’s basically Maura’s fault.

But it feels so fucking good, Maura inside her. Pressed against her, hot and slick with sweat. So fucking good, and maybe this is actually what she’d meant when she’d said we’re trying something different. If she couldn’t get Jane to listen when she was talking normally, maybe she’d listen when she was stroking along her softest parts, murmuring right against her ear.

“Why, uh—fuck, Maura—why are you afraid?”

“Language, Jane,” she breathes, and Jane’s eyes somehow find a little more space to roll back inside her head at that, her pussy walls clamping tight around Maura’s finger, making them both groan. “I’m so afraid, Jane, that we’ve given each other so much, and it’s still not enough.”

“Enough for—for what?”

“For me,” she breathes as she pulls her hand back, and when she thrusts inside again it’s with two fingers, Jane gasping and moaning and spreading her legs even wider, canting her hips up greedily, her pussy rippling and squeezing and trying to pull Maura’s fingers in deeper. “I want you, Jane. And it gets so frustrating, being so close to you. Being so much to you, but not that. Alison helped, for a while. I could . . . pretend, with her. And then it became a way to release the frustrations I had with you. The . . . choices you’ve been making—”

She curls her fingers. Rubs up against some spot that makes Jane’s whole body light up. One leg thrown around Maura’s hips, urging her deeper. Closer.

“You seem to be trying to get away from me,” Maura rumbles, doing that thing with her fingers again. “But the way you’re going about it appears, at least to me, to be more self-destructive than not.” Another curl of her fingers, and this time she’s circling her thumb over Jane’s clit, and it’s getting harder and harder to pay attention since her orgasm’s getting closer and closer with every thrust and stroke. “Is that what you want, Jane?” Her breath’s getting more ragged as she starts to drive her fingers into Jane using her hips, and Jane’s got both legs wound around her, meeting each thrust with a thrust of her own, the thick, wet sounds of Maura’s fingers plunging into her over and over starting to drown out the low murmur of her voice. “Do you want me to leave?”

She can feel it rushing up. Her body starting to tremble. One more thrust, one more firm circle around her clit—

“Oh god, Maura, oh—oh fuck,” and she’s coming so hard she feels like she’s going to explode, or maybe she is exploding, and she can feel Maura inside her, can feel her pussy walls rippling around her fingers, can hear Maura’s hot, harsh breath next to her ear, maybe she’s saying something or maybe she’s just breathing, and before Jane’s finished coming Maura’s abruptly up and off her and between her legs, sucking her clit, and everything goes white, and then black.

When she blinks back to consciousness Maura’s still kneeling between her legs, giving her an obscure look. Like she knows now’s the most dangerous moment, now that she’s both laid it out and now that Jane’s about to feel that rush of post-orgasmic clarity.

When she does, it hits hard. Cold and clammy and like her skin’s too tight. A little sick to her stomach. Not about what had just happened, though. About why. And even though she’s still a little spaced out and unsteady she struggles up so that she’s facing Maura. Takes her face in her hands. Kisses her. Soft at first, and then so she knows she was right. About why Jane’s been so weird and spiky and mean. Because she could tell that Maura was, despite all her truly exceptional efforts, running out of the ability to just be friends, even with her yoga breathing and her high-end escort. Even if self-sabotage seemed easier than admitting it. Having to actually acknowledge it. Even though acknowledging it had turned out to be fucking incredible. The process of it, at least. But now they had to, like, process it, and that was bound to be . . . less incredible.

“I’m sorry,” she said as she pulled away. “For scaring you. I’m, uh.” A deep, shaky breath. “I’m pretty scared too.”

“About what?” Maura asks, and she’s asking like Maura her best friend, which Jane would have assumed would have felt weirder with both of them naked and sweaty and sticky with each others’ arousal, but it didn’t. It felt comforting. Safe.

She shrugs. “About . . . I dunno. Is it . . . is it all different now?”

“No,” Maura says softly. “It’s not.”

“Okay,” Jane breathes.

“Jane,” Maura says. Reaches out. Cups her cheek. “I don’t feel any differently about you. Well, I feel better,” she amends with a little tilt of her head.

Jane snorts despite her perilous mood. “Glad I wasn’t a total failure,” she mumbles.

“Oh Jane,” Maura says in that firm tone she uses when she’s worried about being misconstrued. “Absolutely not.”

She’s blushing so brightly she’s pretty sure it can be seen from space. “Yeah?”

Maura cocks her head again. Frowns. “Did you think we wouldn’t be sexually compatible?”

Somehow her blush gets more intense. “I mean, I hadn’t really thought about it, since I’m not, uh . . . you know.”

“Hmm,” Maura murmurs, which gives Jane a pretty clear idea of her opinion on that. “Well. I’d never have suspected it was your first time with a woman. Which you can credit to our sexual compatibility, which I have thought about.”

Even though she says it like she says anything she’s been thinking about—test results, where to have lunch, whatever—Jane still lets out a mortified little squeak. “Oh yeah?”

“Jane,” she sighs. “I hired a woman who looks like you with the express intention of having sex with her. How could you possibly think I haven’t thought about having sex with you? And even though I know you won’t ask, I know you’ll never stop thinking about it, so yes, it was more satisfying with you than with her.”

“Oh,” Jane mumbles, suddenly deeply interested in her light switch.

“Of course it would be,” Maura says gently. “She was a substitute. You’re the real thing.”

“But, uh, what,” she starts, then stops. Clears her throat. “What if it wasn’t? Better, I mean.”

“That possibility was so unlikely I felt comfortable dismissing it out of hand, regardless of your level of experience,” she says easily. “I’ve never been as close to someone as I have to you, Jane. Emotionally. In the experiences we’ve shared. And that’s not just a function of time or exposure. It’s because there’s something . . . innate between us. Something that refuses to make it easy—or even possible—for us to let each other go, even when it would have been the most convenient.”

Like when someone asks you to marry them, Jane thinks. Or when you betray someone so bad by, say, getting their father thrown in prison that a clean break would have probably been healthier for everyone. She couldn’t do it, though. Not even when the very sight of Maura had made her feel a curdling mix of anger and nausea. She’d just  . . . incorporated that feeling into her life for a while. When the other option was carving out her own heart? “But you would have. If I’d said no.”

She goes a little pale. Casts her eyes down. “Did you know I own—well, Mother does—a chateau in the Loire Valley? I say chateau, which is technically correct, but it’s hardly more than a moderately-sized house with a few acres of vineyard. But I was ready to go there. If you’d said no.”

“But your job—”

“Can be done by any number of appropriately-qualified professionals,” she finishes crisply.

Jane grimaces. Bites her lip. “You really would’ve left?”

“Of course, Jane,” she says, and the matter-of-fact way she says it might be perfectly normal for her, but it makes Jane’s chest go tight. “You rejecting me would have broken my heart. I wouldn’t have been prepared to do my best work in such circumstances, particularly if we’d still had to work together.”

“Broken your heart, huh?” she rasps, and she doesn’t mean it to sound flippant, it’s just that’s how she always sounds when she doesn’t know what to say or do or think, and at least Maura already knows that about her.

“I love you, Jane,” she says. Just like that. “And even though I was relatively confident that things would go the way they did tonight, if they hadn’t, yes, it would have broken my heart, and yes, I would have left in order to determine what I wanted to do next with my life.”

“Oh,” Jane says. And then, “you were confident?”

“Relatively confident,” Maura corrects. That gets a tiny smirk out of her. “I was.” Gives Jane another one of those deep, searching looks that makes her feel even more naked. “Do you know why?”

She does. It makes her heart beat so fast she thinks for a second she’s going to pass out, but Maura takes her hand, and she feels better, and that’s why. She nods stiffly.

“Tell me,” Maura murmurs.

“Because I love you too,” she says, her voice only breaking a little.

“Good,” Maura whispers. Leans forward again. Slides her tongue into Jane’s mouth. “Get on your knees.”

[hanmaitani]

You Won't Remember This

PAIRING - Bodyguard!Matsukawa x Reckless!Reader WC - 4.7K GENRE - Angst, Suggestive CW - language. tracking app used. drinking, partying. grinding, unwanted groping. kinda implied size kink? almost dry humping?

PREV PART | MASTERLIST | NEXT PART

You hate him. Matsukawa that is. It wasn't that he was a terrible person or anything like that. He's not. He's perfect. The perfect fucking bodyguard. And you hate that.

In just two weeks of being your bodyguard, you've already tried to put him through the ringer. In just two weeks he'd already taken more of your shit than any previous bodyguard of yours had ever been able to handle.

You had disappeared on him, flirted with him, intentionally put yourself in harm's way. He'd dealt with you all but throwing yourself at him, trying to get him to break, to quit, something. You were trying to test his limits, you wanted a reaction.

The man didn't even crack. He took everything you gave him in stride, an eye roll and a grumble was all you got in response.

You hated him and hated how incredibly respectable he was too. He ignored all your taunting. He protected you in the most miniscule ways, mundane things that he did without a second thought.

He followed the damn sidewalk rule for god's sake. You would be trying to balance along the curb, teetering on the edge of danger and suddenly his hand was there, encompassing your hip and drawing you to walk on the inside of the sidewalk while he took the position closer to the street.

And his hands. His goddamn hands. You seemed to bump into them more often than the edges and corners of things that you usually ran into. He protected you from any possible marks or bruises he could.

The worst part was... it was like he did it all without even thinking. like protecting you was an instinct. You would look over to him every time he did something to protect you and he wouldn't even be paying you any mind. He'd be completely engaged in something else.

It frustrated you to no end.

Usually you would save the tactic of completely ditching your bodyguard for later, to be used as your last resort. You had defaulted to using it on day four with Matsukawa.

You'd slipped away in the middle of an event. Disappearing with the intent of meeting up with your friends at a nearby bar. You thought you'd been successful, that you had skillfully slipped his protection detail. And then you saw him, walking into your bar not even an hour after you'd disappeared from him.

He'd dragged you out by your arm as you protested. He'd downloaded a stupid tracker app to your phone. You'd rambled and ranted at him for an hour about how entirely unnecessary and violating that was... only to disappear from his watch again the very next day.

He'd found you then too. You had deleted the app but had forgotten to stop posting your outing on your social media. Or on your friend's social media. He made it his job to know all the spots you and your friends visited. Even without geotagged photos, he could figure it out from a few photos.

It was like he had been studying you like he'd have an exam or something. And he was quickly becoming an expert.

It took you nearly two weeks to finally lose him for more than two hours. And you fully intended to take advantage of that.

You had disappeared last night. Never made it home - never intended to really. Instead, you found yourself out on a long overdue binge with your friends. You hadn't been sober all day and had once again found yourself at a new bar with your friends after the sun had set.

It was crowded in the bar and you'd found your way to the dance floor long ago, pressed between your friends. You were laughing when the figure at the bar's entrance caught your eye.

You groaned as you saw Matsukawa dip through the open door, eyes scanning the crowd until they found his target. He locked his eyes on you, glaring as he watched you squeeze your way away from your friends and towards the bar.

He tried to make his way through the cramped bar quickly. People made way for him but not fast enough. You were leaning on the bar, downing your newest drink, when he finally reached you.

"Heyyy Matsukawa." You barely kept the giggle out of your words but you couldn't help the smirk on your lips as you took in his demeanor.

He was annoyed. His jaw was set stern as he looked down at you. Anger radiated off his muscled form. Really nice muscles. Your drunk brain let your eyes wander down the expanse of flesh on his crossed arms, exposed by his tight short-sleeved shirt.

"Where were you last night?" His voice drew your attention again and it sent a quick shock through your chest. He sounded like he was actually worried, like he cared about you and not just the job.

You faltered for a second before shaking it off with a laugh. You waved down the bartender for another drink, turning away from Matsukawa to lean on the bar - sure to press your elbows together for the bartender - as you replied. "Been out, busy, having fun." You sent him a sideways glance to watch his irritation grow, the response of your own system was giddy.

"Hey!" He snapped and snatched the drink from the bartender before it even got to you. You rolled your eyes and turned back to face him, annoyance taking over your expression. "Y/n, you know you're not supposed to leave without me or a replacement."

You scoffed and let your smirk grow in amusement. Oh righteous bodyguard. You nimbly snatched your drink back from him and stuck the straw in your mouth, speaking around it. "See, but you're no fun. Have a little fun, Mattsun."

You made an exaggerated pout around your straw as you sucked down some of the drink. Mattsun's eyes lingered a second too long on the action but you were too drunk to even register the flicker of his eyes. You were too busy turning over your own words in your head.

You stepped away from the counter, quickly having to rebalance yourself. The bar top had made it easier to pretend like you were more sober than you truly were, but your vision was spinning and so was the room. "I have an idea." You giggled as you tossed the straw, choosing to tip your glass to your lips instead.

His answer was immediate, before you even got to share your idea. "No."

You pouted again but stepped towards him this time instead of away. You missed the way his muscles tensed as you wrapped your hand around one of his crossed arms, fingers unable to wrap completely around his wrist. You stepped back, trying to tug him with you by his wrist.

"You haven't even heard my idea yet, Mattsun." Your voice was whiny, thick with alcohol. You finished your drink quickly, dropping it on the counter as you stepped backwards towards the crowd.

His arm stretched across the space between the two of you, his body refusing to move with yours. "That look in your eyes, it means nothing good."

You wiped the pout off your face and brought your smirk back. "Just want you to come and dance with me Mattsun." The nickname kept rolling off your lips, something you'd only ever heard your brother and your driver call him. You missed how he had to force his eyes away from watching the way your lips formed the word.

He sighed, rolling his eyes at your incessant tugging, the slurred please leaving your glossy lips between giggles. "You can stay." It was your first sign of weakness from him. The first crack in his exterior. He gave in, just a little. "I'm not dancing with you."

You took it with a laugh, dropping his arm and leaving before he changed his mind. You migrated back to your friends easily, squeezing in between bodies to get there, only to press yourself directly against one of them as soon as you got there.

It was normal for you, to dance against your friends in a bar like this. Grinding against their bodies as the alcohol flooded your veins like blood. You might have been overdoing it this time, however, but the thought never truly crossed your mind.

Your eyes kept flicking over to Matsukawa as your pressed your body into your friends. He had migrated away from the bar and towards a wall, leaning against it, arms crossed again and jaw set in stone.

You noticed, every time you looked over to him, he never took his eyes off of you. He couldn't even if he wanted to. Your skirt was short, the sides cut out and replaced with buckles. It barely covered anything and rode up every time you moved. Your shirt didn't cover much more, your chest barely covered and your back mostly exposed.

He wasn't even close to the only one noticing. You caught the eyes of many around you. Your friends and strangers alike.

Your friends brought you an endless supply of drinks and he sincerely wanted them to stop, but he was choosing his battles wisely. His current battle was not walking over and ripping you away from everyone else to take you home.

You kept locking eyes with him, like you were now, while pressed against a man he didn't recognize.

The man behind you had his hands on your hips, just above the cut outs in your skirt, fingers lingering close to the buckles that held the front and back together. He traced the metal of them while you danced. You barely noticed.

You refused to look away from Matsukawa. Your eyes lingered on the flex of his muscles while he watched you grind your hips against the man behind you.

You stopped minding the man behind you, not even feeling his breath fanning against your neck as you watched Matsukawa's eyes rake up and down your form. They were watchin how your hips moved, but his willpower was too strong to give in to the temptation you gave him as you tried to beckon him over.

You'd almost completely forgotten about the man behind you until his fingers dipped into the cute of your skirt.

Matsukawa watched as your eyes widened, your concentration on him breaking as you tried to swat at the stranger's hands. He nearly growled when the man behind you pulled you closer instead of letting you go.

Matsukawa kicked off the wall immediately, quickly pushing through the crowd and beelined to where you were snapping at the man who still held you.

"I swear to god, take your hands off me." Your nails were scraping against his wrists. "Now."

Matsukawa just barely caught the man behind you laughing as the words slurred out of his lips. "Do you think I'm scared of a woman?" The man asked, just before you watched Matsukawa's hand grab the stranger's arm in an unforgiving grip.

You were quick to slink behind Matsukawa's frame, his body hiding yours as his grip bruised your assailant. "You should be scared of me."

Your mouth parted slightly, hating the fuzzy feeling that grew in your stomach at the way Matsukawa growled out the threat. Your eyes widened as you realized that a brief thought had crossed your mind. You shook your head free of it, the dizziness coming back as you tuned out the men in front of you.

When Matsukawa released the man and shooed him off, his intention was to turn and grab you , to take you home. But as he turned, you were already gone. He groaned as he caught sight of you through the crowd, now halfway across the room, tipping another glass against your lips as one of your friends encouraged you towards the stage.

You laughed as you climbed onto the stage and he glared, watching you lean towards the pianist playing. Your song request was heeded quickly, the man smiling as he cut his song short and picked up a new beat.

Matsukawa began pushing his way through the crowd again, but the crowd only got denser closer to the stage. Especially now, since there was something to watch.

Two of your friends joined you on stage, encouraging you to dance. Your hands were in your hair, clothes revealing more and more skin as you swung your hips on stage to the song.

Matsukawa took a deep irritated breath as he finally made it to the edge of the stage. It took everything in himself to pry his eyes off your hips, off the skin of the tops of your thighs. He swallowed the lump in your throat as he caught your eye.

You smirked, giggle on your lips as you beckoned him up with one finger - only to have him shake his head, denying you. You only shrugged and laughed as he worriedly glanced around at all the hungry eyes on you up there.

His eyes only rolled when you turned your back on him again, crawling your way onto the piano to lay down. You laughed as people in the crowd whooped and hollered, encouraging you. You threw a few flirty winks around the crowd before looking at Matsukawa again.

He looked so serious in the crowd, a stone against the pushing of the other guests, and you couldn't help but bite your lip. You kept your half-open eyes locked on him as you arched your back off the piano, taking pride in how his body seemed to straighten up more when his eyes flicked across your body.

The song was over much too quickly for your liking. Much too slowly for his. You were laughing nonetheless when your friends came off the stage with you. You giggled when Matsukawa reached you, taking your new glass out of your hands as your friends talked about heading to another bar. You were set to agree when Matsukawa cut you off.

"Actually, we're leaving early, we have something to get to." His words were said in a definitive tone, one that you didn't pick up right away through your drunken haze.

"What?" You shook your head, "no we don't-" you caught his pointed glance and groaned, "oh, okay fine." You sighed and turned back to your friends. "I'll call you guys later."

You were still giggly, despite your night cut short, as you said your goodbyes and pointed your steps towards the door. You tried to get there before Matsukawa did, your irritation in him growing. You weren't done partying but if he wanted you to leave your friends, you would do just that.

"Y/n, where are you going?" You rolled your eyes, steps stuttering as you traveled away from the bar, ignoring him. "Do not ignore me."

You cursed as you nearly fell, catching yourself on the wall. "Fuck off, Matsukawa." You called back, shrieking slightly when you realized that he was next to you.

"Take off your heels." He instructed, only for you to swat his hands away when he reached for you. He rolled his eyes when you tried to push away from him, falling only to be barely caught in time by him.

You wined as he lifted you easily into his arms, one tucking under your legs as the other wrapped around your waist. Your face flushed hot as you felt his muscles constrict around your form. "Wh-what are you doing!"

"I'm carrying you home." You pushed at his arms, trying to get out of his grip but he paid you no mind. It was easy for him to manhandle your body, tossing you over his shoulder as he started to walk, his large hand covering the back of your thighs easily to keep you in place.

Your eyes widened as you clamped your thighs together, afraid he'd be able to note the rush of heat that flooded your core, that it would embarrass you. "Put me down!" You protested as you slammed your hands against his back, watching the ground under you move as he carried you towards where you assumed his car was.

He sighed and you could feel his hair brush against the skin of your hip as he shook his head at you. "Would you quit beating me up!" You froze and whined when his hands roughly grabbed each of your upper thighs, unintentionally letting his fingers tuck themselves between them.

Your whole body felt hot by the time he dropped you down in the front seat of his car. Your brain was fuzzy, all-consumed by him as he shut your door and rounded to his own side.

Your next idea, you came to regret fairly quickly. If you'd have been sober, it would have stayed an idea. Instead, you acted on it.

Matsukawa leaned over you, dragging the seatbelt across your body to buckle you in. You unintentionally leaned closer to him. "Don't be mad at me Mattsun." You wore a pout on his lips but he refused to look at you as he started the car and began to drive. "Where are we going?" You giggled, leaning across the center console as you tried to drag your hand against his chest.

He was quick to grab your hand and push it back to your side of the car. "Stop." It was an order through clenched teeth. "I'm taking you home."

You giggled, smiling as you watched your hand find his bicep again. "You can take me to bed if you want." He sighed in response and glanced at you quickly. He took you in, glazed over eyes and bitten lips, gaze raking down his form as he drove you.

"God I cannot let your parents see you like this." You were giggling, hiccupping in between, as you tried to rub down his arm.

He only stared straight ahead as he drove, but at the next light, as he stopped, he was quick to remove your hands from his body. He put your hands, and your upper body, completely back onto your side of the car again.

"Why are you so mad at me?" Your voice was quiet now, tears edging it as another pout set into your features.

He snapped, "are you fucking kidding me!?" He turned away from you again to face the road as he drove. "What you're doing is fucking dangerous. Why would you do it?" He growled out his irritation and you tilted your head in confusion, wondering why he was so worked up when none of your other bodyguards had ever cared like that before. "Do you know how many fucking people would kill to touch you?" He was still talking, lecturing, but you'd lost your focus on his words.

People would kill to touch you.

You were staring at the way his hands tightened around the steering wheel of the car. You didn't even notice how you bit your lip, his hands made the wheel seem small in your eyes, but really they were just so big. Everything about him was big, actually.

Your eyes flicked down slightly for a moment and you clenched your thighs a bit. You would put money on everything about him being big...

You moved your hand toward him again but he caught it before you could touch him. You took the chance to keep his hand in your grasp. He let you keep it, placating your apparent need to touch him as he tried to drive.

You turned is hand over in your grip, fingers tracing the lines along his large palm. You were entranced by it, tuning out his voice. Your hands moved on your own, pressing your palm against his to compare the size difference between the two.

"And what about you, Mattsun?" You glanced back up at him, missing how his head quickly jerked away from staring at you to face front again. He'd stopped talking to watch they way you fit your hand against his own. He cleared his throat roughly, waiting for you to clarify yourself. "Do you want to touch me?"

Matsukawa swore that his breathing stopped for a second, his eyes flicked momentarily to the way you looked up at him from across the car's center. His lips formed the word before he had the chance to stop it. "Yes."

It was an admission spoken like a guilty man. One he knew he'd never make to you if he wasn't sure that you wouldn't remember this night when you woke up in the morning.

However, at this moment, the confession made a smile grow on your lips, your hands dragging his down to rest on your bare thigh. "You can touch me if you want." You enticed, parting your legs and trying to pull his hand between them.

He was quick to pull it out of your grasp and place it back on the wheel, a safe place for him to have it. "Not like this." It was a mumble that you could barely make out and his lack of action confused you.

You were still trying to get his attention back when he pulled into a parking lot that you didn't recognize. The building was a little run down and you realized, as Matsukawa got out of the car, that this must have been where his apartment was.

"Look Mattsun, we're already at your place." You whined as he guided you into the elevator, pressing the third floor. You had attached your body to his arm, your words slurring more than they had been at the beginning of your drive. "You can just take me to bed, Mattsun. I want you to."

He was trying not to look at you, blatantly ignoring the way that you were staring up at him, begging him to touch you. He denied your request again, watched as the doors opened and guided you down the hall towards his apartment door.

"Do you not want me?" Your voice sounded small, insecurity creeping into your words as your steps faltered, watching him slip his key into his lock.

He sighed and his movements were blurry in your eyes and you suddenly found yourself pressed between him and the door. Your chin was gripped in his hand, forcing you to look him in the eyes. Your breath hitched, you hadn't been this close to him since the kiss you'd shared only two weeks prior.

"Let me make myself very clear." You swallowed hard as you focused on him, his face perfectly clear with how close he was, despite your otherwise blurry vision. "Are you listening?" You nodded the best you could in his grip.

"Don't mistake my inaction as a lack of desire." You blinked and missed the way his eyes flicked to your lips briefly. "I want you so badly it pains me, but I want you to want me." You opened your mouth to speak but he never gave you the chance. "I want you to want me, sober." You subconsciously flicked your eyes back and forth between the two of his.

"You're trashed right now, you'll forget all of this by tomorrow." He sighed, his grip on your chin loosening slightly but neither of you moved yet. "And the first time I touch you," he let his eyes drag down your body and you could feel yourself shrinking under his gaze, your skin heating up with the way he seemed to eat you alive with just his eyes, "I want you to remember it."

You tried and failed to suppress the whimper that crawled its way out of your throat. "I want you to remember every touch, every feeling, every word and sound that leaves my lips." His lips, you were staring at them now, less than an inch away from your own and dangerously enticing.

You could feel yourself leaning towards him, wanting to connect your lips, but the wall behind you fell away. You gasped as he caught you again, guiding you through the now open door and walking into his apartment.

"Mattsun." You whined his name, confidence restored as you tugged on his arm.

"You can have the room, I'll sleep on the couch." He was back to ignoring you, not even looking at you as he sat on the couch to take off his shoes.

Your hands were on his shoulders in an instant, pushing them back against the couch as you swung your leg over him, settling yourself onto his lap. His hands instinctively found your hips, pulling you into a safer position without even thinking first.

Your hands were busy, dragging your top higher up your frame. You smiled when you watched a blush creep up his cheeks at the sight of your body. He quickly turned his face away from you before your top was fully gone.

"Please Mattsun," you were whining, trying to grab his face so he would look at you again, "just touch me," you liked the way your body felt under his eyes, "look at me."

"You're drunk." He whispered it, like he was reminding himself. His cheeks were hot against the palms of your hands. He was struggling, biting back a groan when you ground your hips down onto him. He squeezed his eyes shut and his grip on your hips tightened, trying to keep you from doing it again. "You need to stop."

You huffed in annoyance and let go of his face, your hands coming to his and trying to drag them to where your skirt had ridden up. "Mattsun," your voice was so so whiny and slurring as you tried to grind against him, moaning in frustration at the lack of friction, "want you so bad."

He kept his hands firm against you as you tried to drag them but they only adjusted in their grip, fingers sliding by the buckles of your skirt. His breath hitched and you smiled as you felt him harden under you, his eyes zoning in on the exposed skin of your hips.

"God," it came out as a groan, a prayer to whoever was listening, for help. You'd spent the whole night without any panties under your too-short skirt. His chest rose and fell heavily as he became entranced by the way your hips twitched in his bruising grip, desperate to be able to drag across his own hips.

"You need to stop." His voice sounded dazed. He was dazed, straining to keep the last bit of his self-restraint.

You whined a bit, your nails digging painful but pretty crescent shapes into his biceps. "Want you in me, Mattsun." He squeezed his eyes shut again, his jaw and hands clenching as he tried to ignore the pleasure sparking through his body as you barely grazed against his bulge.

"You can have me, Mattsun. However you want me."

He let out a string of curses as he felt his pants get even tighter, dangerously close to cumming in his pants from just the way you panted and whined his name. "You know where I want you?"

You hummed, your eyes fluttering from your wanton movements, your lips smiling as he lets you think you've won.

"I want you riiight here."

You let out a squeak as his grip on your hips suddenly lifted you up from his lap, setting you onto the couch. Your eyes flew open and your vision cleared for a moment.

He was above you now, standing, a clear bulge in his pants and a heavy blush spread from cheeks down to neck, but he made no move for you. "As soon as we're both sober, we can do every dirty little thing you ever dreamed of." It was a promise he knew that he would have to break, but with the way you panted, chest heaving as you looked up at him with glossy eyes, he couldn't bear to deny you in a harsher way.

You looked up at him, tried to lock eyes with him, and he had to look away. He swore that he could see your heart breaking in your eyes.

"Mattsun," you started quietly, arms coming up to cover your chest defensively.

He didn't let you finish. Instead, he turned and walked towards his bathroom. The door closing was definitive, a barricade between him and you - the temptation he almost couldn't fight.

a/n bodyguard mattsun, have my heart and soul....

TAGLIST - OPEN @boosyboo9206 @faumpje