#rizzoli and isles fanfiction

[doomsday-dj]

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

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

Help a gay out?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[ladyriot]

A little snippet that was the rough opening of a rizzles dating app AU one shot

~~

Maura's careful about this, meticulous. She reads through  entire profiles instead of going by photo alone. She seeks indications of "safety,” hoping to find someone who feels as safe as Jack did. She swipes a couple of nos, one yes, and then she's looking at her best friend's face. 

She drops her phone on the floor in shock, fumbling with it as she picks it up only to realize she's accidentally swiped. Accidentally swiped the wrong way. 

“No, no, no, no, no," she whispers to herself as she investigates all the little buttons, finds one that looks like the undo arrow and clicks it. She hesitates only a moment before inputting her credit card information; she’d never liked the security risk. But the reward is the reopening of Jane’s profile.

Jane. She's gorgeous in the first photo, smiling at one of the events Maura'd taken her to in some beautiful dress with her lips glossed shiny and plump. Maura had stared too long that night, Jane’s eyes sparkling mirthfully at her when she could finally meet them. She thinks she might even have taken that photo, insisted on it to show her gorgeous friend just how gorgeous she was.

Seeing her on this app means she's open, right? They wouldn't show her someone that didn't input an interest for women. Right? Maura wants to pause to look it up. To seek information, data. But she's scared to lose the profile again. How come Jane never told her she was looking to date again? She scrolls further.

Her bio makes Maura laugh. It's sweet and cute. And there are more photos, Jane alone, pulling faces in her work chair. Jane with her brothers. With Frost. She notices there's not one with her. Maura had been careful not to select any with Jane in them either. Because she could see in her own expression... could Jane's reasons be similar? Maura flushes, stares hard at the profile for a very long time, almost risking her screen going dark.

She gulps down her wine. And then swipes right, indicating her interest. She lets out a deep sigh and shuts off the app altogether. She might come to regret that. But she hopes she won't have to.

#rizzoli and isles #rizzles #rizzoli and isles fanfiction #rizzles snippets feb 2024 #you'll probably find little mistakes! forgive them. I have no intentions to return to this one

[ry-kills-jemily]

Just a Normal Day (Maura Isles x Jane Rizzoli)

Rating: Teen and Up

Jane and Maura go on a non-Valentine's date and it's soft and fluffy and they want to be together forever.

Also summarised as: My first Rizzoli & Isles fic, but not my first queer fic.

Link

#rizzoli and isles #jane rizzoli #maura isles #rizzles #maura x jane #maura isles/jane rizzoli #rizzoli and isles fanfiction

[anthrofreshtodeath]

Looking forward to this prompt like always.

maybe they get slightly jealous while out, so they grab onto their partner's hand to establish their relationship

here it is! I have no idea what I just wrote but, you know, here we go:

—-

The Childhood Cancer Awareness Gala. If anything in Maura’s life is a black tie affair, it’s this. It comes once a year, in May, just as the spring gives way to summer temperatures, and, unfortunately, when the nascent MLB season really starts to take shape. Which usually means she takes a man, a doctor most times, instead of Jane: the person with whom she much prefers to attend these things. Not only is Jane Maura’s best friend - and thus makes it all genuinely more bearable - Jane has all the social skills Maura wishes she did when it came to fellow donors and hot shots. There are celebrities at this thing, for god’s sake. And that makes Maura nervous, especially since Jane so often has about five to eight games to catch up on by the time late May rolls around and refuses to come. Last time Maura had to bring a surgeon. But this year, by some miracle, the Red Sox have an off day on this Tuesday night, the same that the Gala is on. 

And Maura had known this fact for months. In fact, as soon as the regular season schedule was released. That meant that she started her get-Jane-to-the-Gala campaign while snow still raged outside and the year had barely begun. It culminates in the black, strapless gown she wears now, the one showing off her tanned shoulders and her three hundred dollar haircut complete with layers and highlights and the smell of priceless product. There are heels that highlight her calves and make her ass look fantastic; there is a pendant on her neck that draws attention to her perfectly supported breasts. There’s even a diamond ring on her right ring finger, big and belonging once to her mother, because Jane likes to look at things that remind her of tradition. 

And Maura had promised, not with words per se, but quite forcefully, quite convincingly, that Jane’s attendance would be worthwhile. The promise had consisted of some rather pointed modeling in the guest bedroom while Jane sat in a lounge chair and watched, of even more pointed half-states of undress, including dropping the garment in front of her with her heels still on so that she could bend over in the skimpiest pair of underwear appropriate for a platonic home fashion show that she owned. It also consisted of the subtle increase in hand jewelry, answers to Jane’s questions about it being, “My mother gave it to me. She couldn’t bring herself to wear it anymore; she finds such signs of commitment provincial. I vehemently disagree - especially when the signs are so exquisite. Don’t you think?”

Jane had sniffled. She’d stood, looking stiff and stupid as her mouth gaped at the ring Maura held out, before she finally said, “it’s on the wrong hand.”

Maura had chuckled warmly and replied, “for now.”

The stupidity intensified up until Jane mopped her jaw off the floor and excused herself to return upstairs. Maura then understood that she didn’t even need to invite Jane: she just needed to bring the Gala up. 

That happened about two weeks after the ring incident, which was about two weeks after the dress fitting. Maura stood in front of the vanity in her bedroom’s en suite, rubbing a European moisturizer into the skin just over her cheek bones. “You know, the Childhood Cancer Awareness Gala is on the 28th this year,” she said with the most practiced nonchalance as she frowned to get more of the product into her pores. 

Jane had grunted. She leaned against the threshold to the bathroom and crossed her arms, using tox results for their current case as the excuse to be in Mauara’s inner sanctum. Maura had at least given her the courtesy of relaying those lab results before bringing the fundraiser up. “‘S an off day,” Jane said. 

Maura made a curious sound. “Hmm. Really?”

“Yeah,” Jane confirmed. “Want me to tag along?”

Maura pursed her lips so she didn’t smile. Jane isn’t hers. But she knows a secret: Jane wants to be, and so she admits she played a little dirty to have gotten Jane to accompany her.

Honestly, though, that was the nonverbal content of Maura’s promise: go, and becoming mine is a distinct, dirty possibility for you. “I’d like that,” she told Jane. “Do you need something to wear?”

She knew what Jane would say. Well, she knew the answer. Jane ended up saying, “I”ve seen what you’re wearing; I think I can cobble something together.”

Contrary to what even Jane herself might have believed, Maura hadn’t wanted to go shopping for Jane anyway - she wanted it on the table that Jane would be dressing to compliment her. Because that meant Jane in a suit. And Maura is attracted to the Jane she knows, not the Jane she can conjure by draping her in couture.

And so, Jane is here, at the Childhood Cancer Awareness Gala, in May, instead of in front of a ballgame somewhere. Jane is here in a suit, with a very expensive white silk shirt under the jacket, with a sleeker, more understated boot than the aggressive block heel she often wears to work, her hair wild and beautiful and the perfect compliment to her sharp features.

It is, by all accounts as Maura returns from the restroom, a win. A complete victory on all fronts. Except, that is, Jane stands close to Doctor Melissa Henry - world renowned OBGYN and overall knockout - listening intently enough, leaning in close enough, to hear above the sociable din. 

Jane’s long fingers hold her champagne flute by the rim, the drink Maura had procured for her long before the trip to the restroom, and Jane hasn’t touched it. Hasn’t had a sip. Which, of course not, because Doctor Henry is Puerto Rican and curvaceous and a genius. Why would Jane interrupt her spell to imbibe? 

Doctor Henry leans close and says something into Jane’s ear, Jane who turns into the gesture yet again, and suddenly, they are both chuckling. And by god, it’s Jane’s handsome chuckle - the one that crinkles the corners of her eyes and bestows upon her a crooked little grin.

Normally, Maura respects the hell out of Doctor Henry as a leader in the field of women’s medicine. She’s serious and principled and warm… and that’s the damn problem. Maura did a fucking bend and snap to get Jane here (thank Jane’s modern media bootcamp for that particularly relevant reference); she’s not letting go this easily. 

And again, she intends to fight dirty. 

She marches across the crowded ballroom to where the two women stand, where Doctor Henry places a steadying hand on Jane’s shoulder because her heels are tall and her ankles are crossed. A man bumps into a deadset Maura, by accident, but it only fuels her resolve. She continues, gaze forward, back straight, clutch in front of her hips (the ones that sway as she walks), until she approaches Jane and Doctor Henry. Then she stops.

For all her missing of social mores, Maura can synthesize the details of a situation like no other. So just as she approaches, she comes up to Jane’s left, because Jane’s right is occupied with the champagne. And also, coincidentally, Doctor Henry. All for the better, though, because this means that for her next act, the ring on her hand can do all the heavy lifting, even if it’s a mirror image of where it’s supposed to be. 

Her fingers find the ones at Jane’s side, and they slither between them. Once they’re all but entwined, she drags them up, skin brushing as they curl, just before manicured fingers scratch Jane’s palm one time. Then as she fans them back out, down and united again, she kisses Jane’s covered shoulder. Jane shivers and Maura knows it’s because of the metal rubbing on her ring finger. “My mother’s bete noir is here,” she says into the fabric of Jane’s jacket, relishing the delicate scratch against her gloss-softened lips. “The feud is as alive as ever.”

Boom.

Between the touching and the comment just for her, she’s got Jane. She knows she’s got Jane because instead of a statement about how rude it is not to greet the third party, Jane says in that gravel-rich timbre, “she still telling the story about how her daughter styled… who?”

“The Roman Prince of Cerveteri? At least once a function,” Maura replies quickly, all as she turns her gaze on Doctor Henry. “So sorry, Melissa - family issues. You know how it is.”

Family. Issues.

Jane stiffens further, grows warmer; Maura knows there’s blushing even if she can only see Melissa Henry’s straight-out-of-a-catalog face. 

“That I do,” Doctor Henry says. Gracefully she steps away from Jane. Is that a bit of fear Maura sees, too? “Do uh, do you two need a drink? I think I’m headed to the bar.”

Jane smiles with her lips closed and simply holds up her champagne flute. I’ve got plenty.

“I’ve had enough for the evening, but thank you,” Maura answers with a cordial smile.

When Doctor Henry walks away after a nod and a smirk of her own, Jane snorts. “I don’t think she’s coming back,��� she says.

“God, I hope not,” says Maura. When Jane, without letting go of Maura’s hand, downs her entire drink and steps close enough for their fronts to touch, Maura honors the nonverbal request for an embrace by wrapping her free arm around Jane’s shoulders. “When you’re here, when you accompany me to these events, you’re mine,” she asserts with a growl of her own.

“I’m yours all the time,” Jane counters. She rests her head in the crook of Maura’s neck because in heels, Maura is tall enough.

Maura squeezes, and laughs lowly. “I know.”

#lauren writes rizzoli and isles fanfiction #rizzoli and isles #otp prompts February 2024 #featuring Neanderthal Jane #and also Neanderthal Maura apparently lol #I just know they went home and fucked nasty after this

[thelostfare]

OK so I'm watching RIZZOLI AND ISLES

For like the hundred time, I've lost count.

The way Maura leans into Jane here and Jane looks uncomfortable, like babe too much pda.

Then , when we transition to Korsaks ex-wife and how everyone reacts to her presence.

The way Jane's hand immediately moves to her weapon and she like has to play it off.

Top class acting .

I love rewatching this show for these reasons 😍 💓

Jane and Maura were end game

#fanfiction #rizzoli and isles #jane x maura #jane rizzoli #maura isles #vince korsak

[unhingedicedlatte]

"Rizzoli & Isles: Season 8" - a brilliant fanfic for everyone who wants Rizzles endgame!

Title of Fic: "Rizzoli & Isles: Season 8"

Author: SilenceintheLibrary13

Fandom/Pairing: "Rizzoli & Isles", Maura Isles and Jane Rizzoli ("Rizzles")

TW: /

Rating: M

Synopsis: This story is set as a continuation of the series, but with the ending we all hoped for with every fibre of our being and still didn't get! And the best thing is that we get to read about their month in Paris together - where they finally admit their true feelings for each other and enjoy a romantic first vacation as a couple. Yay!

The characters are written really well here and while it's not a slow burn, their development as a romantic couple is depicted in a very convincing way. The plot itself needs to be praised, too: We get some sexy times, but also heartfelt conversation and a glimpse into their domestic life together, yet the author did not shy away from adding some good ol' suspense: When Maura and Jane decide to get married, they receive threatening anonymous messages to call the event off! Someone definitely does not want to grant them their well-deserved "Happily ever after" but who could that mystery person be? Someone holding a grudge against those two for professional or personal reasons?

This storyline has everything a really good fanfiction needs and was Winner of the 2018 Rizzles Award of Distinction for Best Canon Storyline!

It is one of those fanfics you can read again and again when you are in the mood for something that is light but not shallow, romantic but not *too* dramatic, neither slow-burn nor sloppily done. It's one of the stories to go back to again and again because of its perfect combo of romance, fluff, smu*t, suspense and character development.

#rizzles #jane rizzoli #maura isles #rizzoli and isles #wlw ship #fanfiction #rizzles is canon #fanfiction.net

[markedbyindecision]

would anyone be interested in writing an exsquisite corpse fic? it’s like where people sequentially add to a piece, with limited knowledge of what the person before them added

the way id think of it working is like theres a google doc and the first person to go writes maybe 3-5 sentences, then turns the text white for all but the last sentence so the next person cant see it. and then the next person goes on the doc and continues the story off of what they see (which is the previous person’s last sentence)

i think this would work best if it were a crackfic since the story’s not going to make a lot of logical sense anyways, but it could also be more serious.

#saf speaks #fanfiction #i’ll tag some fandoms i’m in #person of interest #supergirl #lucifer #killing eve #batwoman #ouat #shadowhunters #psych #warehouse 13 #rizzoli & isles #Hannibal

[neuroprincess]

☆ EXTRAS MASTERLIST ☆

MAIN MASTERLIST | TAGLIST | open requests

♡ fluff | ☆ smut | ❀ angst

⤷ Frankie Dart

To be written...

⤷ Maura Isles

To be written...

⤷ Rebecca Welton

Fuck Me! ♡

Under The Skin ♡

⤷ Headcanons

PDA with Maura Isles ♡

NSFW Alphabet ☆

Dating Maura Isles ♡

⤷ Preferences

To be written...

⤷ Special | Fanfiction

To be written...

#the community #rizzoli and isles #ted lasso #frankie dart x reader #maura isles x reader #rebecca welton x reader #headcanon #one shot #fanfiction #preferences

[phantomstatistician]

Fandom: Rizzoli & Isles

Sample Size: 1,771 stories

Source: AO3

#jane rizzoli #maura isles #emma swan #regina mills #nina holiday #frankie rizzoli #casey jones #gabrielle #xena #rizzoli & isles #once upon a time #ouat #xena warrior princess #xwp #fanfiction #ao3 #statistics #phantom statistician #rizzles

[misless]

Extrañas por Naturaleza - Strangers by Nature

A prequel to "You and Me." (Rizzles) where Constance and Ella are side characters. Strangers by Nature is the story of how Constance and Ella met.

**A/N: I've rarely seen Constance's character being used in a positive light in Rizzle's fanfiction, let alone having her as a main character. So I'm giving it a try

Original version in Spanish

Translation in English

#rizzoli and isles #maura isles #jane rizzoli #Constance Isles #fanfic writing #fanfiction #fanfic #wattpad #rizzles #original character #originally inspired by tdwp

[kmwoodson]

Want a story catered specifically to you?! Whether it's an original short story or a personalized FanFic, DM me now to discuss the details!

#writing #aspiring writer #poetry #unrequited love #faberry #jori #maxoline #sterek #shawson #original fanfiction #glee fanfiction #fanfiction #original fanfic #fanfic #rizzisles #rizzles #rizzoli and isles #incorrect glee quotes #2 broke girls #poetry and writing #love letters #chicago fire #teen wolf #victorious #tade #writers and poets #writerscorner #original writing #startup business

[doomsday-dj]

Decorative Grapes Rizzoli & Isles Rating: T Words: 3157 (This isn't any of the things that I said I was working on but I hope you all like it anyway!)

“I don’t know who she thinks she’s fooling. Everytime we see her at one of these she’s with that detective of hers and she’s practically stuck on her like a stamp. They’re always touching each other.”

“Honestly. It’s blatant. ‘This is my colleague,’ and ‘have you met my friend,’ as if anyone with eyes couldn’t tell she and that guard dog of a woman are intimately acquainted.”

“Mmm. Truthfully, I certainly wouldn’t object to being familiar with her ‘colleague.’ If it were me I’d let everyone know.”

“God, you’re truly beyond hope. Regardless, whether she wants it or not, everybody does know.” 

Maura hears a heavy door open and close and the sound of fading laughter. A very welcome silence follows, a signal that she’s once again alone in the bathroom.  Eyes closed, body trembling, she leans back against the smooth metal wall of the stall she’s been hiding in. 

Ten minutes ago, Maura’s phone had pinged with an urgent email from the governor’s office and she’d excused herself from Jane’s company to find a quiet place to respond. She’d been tapping away in the bathroom when the women had entered, her presence silent enough that they clearly thought they were alone. Neither had needed the facilities for any of their traditional uses, leaving Maura with the devastating conclusion that their only reason for coming into the bathroom was to gossip about her.

Maura tries her best not to cry. She presses a cool hand first to her throat, then her cheek, trying to relieve some of the heat that has gathered beneath her skin. She’s absolutely burning up, flushed with embarrassment and shame at what she’d just overheard. 

The conversation was such a cruel confirmation of what Maura has long been fearing. She already knew she relies too much on Jane’s company at these events, but thanks to those loudmouthed women she now also knows she’s been doing a terrible job of hiding her ever growing affection for Jane.

Maura breathes in for four seconds, holds her breath for seven, and then exhales for eight. She does it again as she exits the stall to wash her hands and again as she presses a piece of damp paper towel to her still-flushed chest and neck. 

When the reflection in the mirror looks sufficiently calm, if still a bit ruddy, she exits the bathroom. As Maura anxiously scopes out the event space, she realizes that the worst part is she hasn’t the first idea about which two women were talking about her. 

She zeros in on Jane lingering by where a dessert buffet has been set out on one side of the ballroom. She’s easy to spot: her height and her wild hair and her suit all readily mark her as different. It’s Jane’s nicest suit, which Maura appreciates, but with the caterers in tuxedos, Jane is unquestionably the least fancy person in the room. Maura loves that. She loves her. Jane diligently comes with her to every charity auction and gallery opening, unselfconsciously rubbing shoulders with her acquaintances and serving as her social interaction sounding board and shield, and all Maura has done to repay her is get her name dragged through the mud. 

Maura makes her way over quickly. Jane seems to know on instinct when Maura is close and turns to face her just as Maura makes her final approach. Jane’s warm smile, usually so effective at making Maura feel at ease, causes a lurch of guilt in her stomach. 

“Oh, hey,” Jane greets her. “I thought I was going to have to send out a search party. Do you think these grapes are decorative?” Jane nods her head at the selection of desserts. 

“I’m—sorry?” Maura trips around the prepared apology that had been on the tip of her tongue, rehearsed several times on her way across the ballroom. 

“The grapes,” Jane says. “You think they’re for eating?”

Maura blinks twice and follows Jane’s gaze to where many bunches of grapes adorn the dessert table. 

“I think they’re quite clearly real grapes, Jane,” Maura says slowly. 

“Yeah, genius, I know that part.” The words themselves are a little harsh but Jane’s voice is filled with that affectionate teasing that seems to be reserved just for Maura, a tone that makes it very clear that when Jane says ‘genius’ she means it. She’s still carefully examining the arrangement of grapes. “But are they decorative. They’re not even on the plates, they’re just like all around the plates. Is that something rich people do? I don’t want to look like some idiot townie who can’t tell a dessert from a garnish.”

Maura’s mouth opens and closes a few times. She’d worked up quite a head of steam on her way over and now instead she’s being called on to give expert testimony on grapes. Maura looks at the table again and takes the task seriously. 

“They’re probably intended mostly as decoration,” Maura admits. 

Jane weighs Maura’s perspective heavily and then shakes her head. “That’s dumb, I’m still eating them.” 

Decisive as always, Jane reaches down with slender fingers and plucks a small bunch of the darkest grapes, dusty blue-purple in colour, and plops them on her plate. She tosses one in her mouth and makes a deep, satisfied noise as she nods solemnly, visibly pleased with her choice. 

“Anyway, what’s up with you?” Jane says. She glances over at Maura as she slips another grape in her mouth. Maura watches it disappear before looking back into Jane’s eyes with a hint of panic. “You look stressed and you walked over here in that tight little way you do when you’ve got a test result I’m going to hate.” 

“What—I do not—tight?” Maura sputters. 

“Yeah, like, pinched.” Jane lifts her shoulders into a tense shrug, demonstrating. “And you walk really fast with short little steps.” 

Maura scoffs in offense but resists the urge to launch into a vigorous denial. While she’d very much like to defend her honour, or at least the length of her strides, she knows that if she gets into an argument with Jane she might never get to what she really needs to say. She sighs instead. 

“Jane, I have to tell you something.”

Jane’s head dips at the weight of Maura’s voice, concern shading her features. She glances around, then takes Maura by the elbow and draws her away from the dessert table, moving to a more private spot off to the side of the ballroom. 

“What’s up? What happened?” Jane’s deep brown eyes search Maura’s face, her hand still holding Maura’s arm. Maura chews her lower lip nervously. She’d figured out exactly how she wanted to say this when she was crossing the ballroom but now the only thing in her head is the different varietals of grapes that are on that stupid table. She’s just going to have to wing it.

“Jane, I overheard two women gossiping about us in the bathroom. I can’t apologize enough and if I’d had any idea that…well, I’m just very sorry. But unfortunately, everyone thinks you and I are together.” 

Jane’s features, which had creased with concern when Maura began talking, smooth out in relief.  “Well, sure.” Jane breathes out a sigh.  “Of course they do.” 

Maura blinks, first confused, then frustrated. She must not have said it right. Why can’t she be better at these things? 

“No, Jane,” Maura says seriously. “I mean romantically. They think we’re dating.” 

Jane stares at Maura. “Right, yeah. Obviously.” 

Maura is dumbfounded. Obviously? Her expression must be broadcasting her bewilderment because Jane’s face crinkles with tender concern. It’s one of Maura’s favourites from the catalog of Jane’s expressions she’s learned to recognize. While plenty of people have looked at her with concern in her life, it has almost always been the pitying or morbid kind, and Jane’s feels like the sun. Maura basks in it. 

“You don’t mind?” Maura asks, eyes wide with surprise and relief. 

“Maur,” Jane starts softly. Her hand is still on Maura’s elbow and her thumb rubs a soothing circle against the soft skin of Maura’s upper arm. “I do mind that they’re talking about you behind your back. That’s rude as hell. But the fact that they think we’re a couple?” Jane shrugs. “What else are they gonna think? Every single time you’re at one of these things I’m with you. We show up together, we leave together, we spend most of our time together.  It’s like…girlfriend or bodyguard, those are the options people are going to come up with.” 

“That’s absurd.” Maura exclaims and, although she doesn’t want to be, she knows she’s probably coming off a little frantic. Her heart started racing when Jane said ‘girlfriend’ and hasn’t stopped. “Why isn’t ‘friend’ an option? Because that’s the truth, we’re friends.” 

“I dunno, I think bodyguard is a little true, too,” Jane says wryly and lets go of Maura’s arm to pop another grape in her mouth. Maura shoots her a look. 

“Jane, I’m serious. Just because two people…” Maura sighs. “So we spend a lot of time together, so what? They shouldn’t leap to conclusions like that.” 

Jane makes a noncommittal noise in response. She sets her plate of grapes down and stares out onto the dance floor where couples have started swaying around to the jazzy house band that began playing after dinner. After a silent moment she looks back to Maura. 

“You wanna dance?” Jane asks. Maura looks at her incredulously and Jane offers another shrug in return. “I mean, they’re gonna think it either way, so you might as well get to dance. You always say how you want to.” She holds out her hand, palm up, and Maura stares at it like she’s never seen one before in her life. 

“I…okay,” Maura says dumbly. She places her hand in Jane’s and allows herself to be led out onto the dance floor. She feels immediately like every eye in the room is on them but when she glances around she finds that couldn’t be further from the truth. 

Then she’s in Jane’s arms. 

“Can I ask you a question?” Jane asks at the same time that her hand slides around to the small of Maura’s back, her other hand still clasping Maura’s and raising it up. Maura can’t pretend she isn’t shocked that Jane is this confident about dancing. She stares at Jane in a daze. 

“Sure, yes.” Maura swallows with some difficulty and slides her hand up Jane’s arm until it winds over her shoulder. Jane’s eyebrow twitches just slightly and the smile on her face is not one that Maura can easily identify. She’s not sure she’s seen it before. Jane begins to sway them around the floor, sweeping her gaze around the room before settling it back on Maura. 

“If there was a woman who came to all of these events, each time with the same man, and she spent all her time with him and they came and left in the same car and everything we do, what would you think?” 

Maura looks up into Jane’s questioning face and presses her lips into a thin line. She blushes a bit. “I get what you’re trying to say, Jane, and you’re right, I’d think they were together. But all I’m taking away from that point is that one shouldn’t make assumptions about pairs of differing genders either.” 

“That probably is the right lesson,” Jane says as she spins them slowly around. Maura thinks they might be pressed even closer together than when they started. No, she’s sure of it, actually, because she can no longer look Jane in the eye without craning her neck and Jane’s lips are startling close to Maura’s ear when she starts talking again. “Can I ask you another question?” 

“Yes.” Maura really doesn’t mean for it to come out so huskily. 

“Ignoring that lesson you just learned…if you had a friend, a male best friend, and he spent all his time with you and made you come to his dive bar with him and drove to your house every morning for fancy coffee before work even though he’d happily drink instant and has a well documented hatred for getting up earlier than he has to…”

It’s not exactly a subtle beginning on Jane’s part and Maura has already lost the ability to regulate her breathing. She’s trying not to dig her fingers into Jane’s neck but she’s not quite sure how to keep upright if she doesn’t hold onto something. She feels the arm around her waist tighten just slightly before Jane continues. 

“...If, hypothetically, he’d run a marathon for you, pretend to be your lover to discourage a truly disgusting mechanic he definitely warned you about, and of course fill his nights with every charitable event in the Boston elite’s social calendar… What would you think?”

Maura can’t believe what she’s hearing. She especially can’t believe Jane Rizzoli just said lover. 

“Jane,” Maura exhales quietly. She wants to lean back and look Jane in the eyes, verify that all of this is really happening, convince herself that she didn’t fall and hit her head in the bathroom prompting some very vivid auditory hallucinations, but Jane’s hand slides up to the middle of her back and holds her firmly in place. 

“What would you think, Maura?” Jane’s voice is low and her breath is hot against Maura’s cheek. She shivers and grips the collar of Jane’s jacket so, so tight. 

“I would think he wants me.” It’s barely louder than a whisper but Maura feels like she’s shouting. 

“Hm,” Jane says, sounding sage, as if she’d just uncovered some difficult mathematical proof. “I think you’d probably be right.” 

This time when Maura tries to lean back, Jane lets her, her hand returning to the small of Maura’s back except a little bit lower than it was before. Jane has that same mysterious smile from earlier and now Maura’s starting to get a sense of what this one means. 

She has no less than a thousand questions about this revelation but it’s not difficult to pick out the most important one. 

“Why didn’t you say something?” Maura carefully searches Jane’s expression, which turns bashful. Jane looks awkward and vulnerable and it’s painfully sweet. Maura can hardly fathom that Jane is still managing to dance them around the room. 

“I tried to,” Jane says a bit helplessly. “Well—I tried to show you. I’m not very good with words. Unfortunately you’re not always so good without them. But I thought…you know, all that stuff you said about the signs of attraction, I thought you’d see my eyeballs having contractions and stuff.” 

“Facial muscles,” Maura murmurs. 

“Whatever,” Jane says, then clears her throat. They finally come to a stop but they don’t quite disengage, their clasped hands dropping to their sides while their other arms remain around each other. Jane’s eyes dart around uncomfortably. “Well anyway, now you know. I guess that’s also why I don’t really mind if everyone mistakenly thinks we’re dating.” 

“Would you mind if they weren’t mistaken?” Maura asks, slipping her hand free. She can feel Jane’s fingers twitch at the loss. 

“Of course not.” Jane frowns, offended at the implication. “If you want to clear things up with everyone, of course you should. Take an ad out in the next newsletter if you need to.”

“No, I don’t—that’s not what I meant.” Maura slides her hand from around Jane's shoulder to grasp one of the lapels on Jane’s blazer, her unoccupied hand coming up to take hold of the other. “I mean, what if—” 

Maura wants to finish her sentence, she really does, but when she drops her gaze from Jane’s eyes to her mouth her fingers start tugging down on the collar of Jane’s jacket and she’s just going to have to show Jane instead, like Jane had tried to show her.  

And she really had, hadn’t she? There will be time later to reflect on all the signs she missed but for now, Maura kisses Jane, lightly brushing their lips together once, twice, then tilting her head and slotting her mouth confidently against Jane’s. There’s the briefest moment of shock where Jane’s whole body goes rigid and then she melts into the contact and it sparks electricity up and down Maura’s spine. The hand that isn’t wrapped around Maura’s waist finds its place at the back of Maura’s neck, resting strong and possessive. 

Jane tastes like grapes and their kiss is a relief and a thrill and a confirmation. When Jane makes a quiet, hungry sound deep in her throat it nearly extinguishes any consideration for social etiquette on Maura’s part. Despite the very public circumstances of their first kiss, Maura so badly wants to bite down on Jane’s tender lower lip, lick along the seam of Jane’s closed mouth and waste no time when she opens it. She wants to press herself against Jane’s strong thigh and goad Jane until she pushes Maura up against the nearest wall. More than anything, Maura wants to give those two women something to really talk about.  She does none of those things, of course, if only because Constance Isles has many friends in this room and that’s not a phone call Maura is interested in having. She does, however, prolong the kiss as long as she reasonably can before breaking off with a sharp sigh, her eyes squeezed shut. For a moment everything is still. 

“Hey,” Jane says carefully, nervously. “Are you okay?”

“More than okay.” Maura opens her eyes to find Jane’s looking the softest she’s ever seen them. She thinks her heart might burst. “I just… Well. While I’m obviously no longer worried about the spreading of false gossip, I’m still upset that they think I’m trying to hide it.” 

Jane scrunches her face into a skeptical expression. “Oh, I really doubt they’re going to think that after you kissed me in the middle of the dance floor.”

Maura blushes and glances around and this time she does spot a few sets of eyes looking quickly away. She probably will be getting that phone call after all. She releases her grip on Jane’s jacket, smoothing the creases away with the palms of her hands before looking up into the open, caring face of her best friend. Part of her feels like she should be reeling from a seismic change in their relationship, but the whole thing just feels so overwhelmingly correct and Maura finds she can only think about one thing. 

So she gives Jane’s shoulder a small shove. 

“I don’t have a pinched walk, by the way.” Maura pouts.

“Oh my god, yes you do,” Jane says, reaching for Maura’s hand and winding their fingers together again. “You can’t help it, it’s how you were raised. Let’s go home and I’ll show you my impression.” 

#rizzles #rizzoli and isles #femslash #f/f fanfic #f/f #f/f romance #maura isles #jane rizzoli #rizzles fanfic #rizzoli and isles fanfiction

[ladyriot]

Where Our Hearts Linger ( words) by LadyRiot Chapters: 1/4 Fandom: Rizzoli & Isles Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Maura Isles/Jane Rizzoli Characters: Maura Isles, Jane Rizzoli, Jack Armstrong (Rizzoli & Isles), Angela Rizzoli, Frankie Rizzoli Jr. Additional Tags: Briefly Maura/Jack, Pining, Friends to Lovers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Returning Home, Eventual Smut, BDSM elements, Submission, Basically the whole point is examining late seasons submissive Maura under a microscope, Character Study Summary: Maura follows Jack to Albuquerque, but her heart is in Boston. Maura finally finds an excuse to return when Jane texts her about Angela's birthday.

#rizzles #rizzoli and isles #maura isles #rizzoli and isles fanfiction

[tedahli]

I'm REALLY trying to be nice but where the heck can I find a decently written Rizzoli and Isles fan fiction? I swear it's like everyone forgot how to write or never watched the show. Story ideas great execution no where near as great.

#rizzoli and isles #fanfiction

[anthrofreshtodeath]

Long time no see! 😂

How about "slowly intertwining fingers while the other is driving" ?

It's been awhile! This one is kind of angst-lite.

___

Jane wants only to drive. She wants to rev the engine of her cruiser; she longs for the satisfaction that cutting and weaving through traffic gives her. It’s asshole behavior, she knows - but she’s an asshole. She relishes being an asshole, especially when she’s angry and especially when she’s been handcuffed, when someone bridles her rage and forces her to swallow it down. 

Hope Martin and Paddy Doyle are quite good at that. 

So are the guards at the maximum security prison she’s just left with Hope and Maura in tow, because they quite literally would have cuffed her if she’d leapt over the table to throttle Paddy like she’d wanted to. But Paddy, and Hope, know that fact intimately. And that’s why Hope waited to be forced to talk to Paddy. And why Paddy shut up about Hope. They knew the only safe place for them to see one another and still get Jane and Maura the information they needed was to do it in prison. 

Because, like they surmised, Jane wants to kill the both of them. She wants to kill both of them with her bare hands and she wants to whip through the streets of Boston like a maniac and she can do neither.

Standstill traffic on the bridge back into the city.

It’s a one sentence horror-story to every Bostonian, really. But even more so to Jane today. Hope, coward that she is, has stayed completely silent in the backseat on the way into town, despite all the revelatory, criminal shit she shared in the interrogation room. Maura, saint that she is, also remains quiet, peering out the window of the passenger side while rain starts pelting it, sending periodic glances Jane’s way.

And Jane’s embarrassed by it, though she’d never say so out loud. It’s fucking embarrassing to have all this fire and nowhere to put it. To be so angry and to be so close to two confessed lawbreakers who repeatedly lied to and used their relationship with Maura to manipulate her and do nothing? Jane’s foot might punch a hole through the floor of the Crown Vic. All she can really do is shove her left leg against the driver’s side door, her knee up to the window, and squeeze the wheel until her knuckles blanche. Which means, on top of all the hellish shit she just endured, Maura now has to watch. She’s gotta make room for Jane’s mood. That makes Jane madder, more ashamed.

It reaches an apex when Maura resettles, apparently tired of counting raindrops, and releases a calming breath when her shoulders press against the padding of her seat - she lets the hand that had rested against her own face fall into her lap, and sneaks the other over to Jane’s on the console. 

Jane’s brows furrow and she considers yanking herself away. More than wanting to wound, Maura shouldn’t have to do this. Hold onto her weakness like this, pacify this. But Jane stays, because Maura’s fingers wrap slowly around her own, and the touch is warm and sweet and hot all at once as the cold from the outside threatens to seep in. 

So, Jane accepts the calming of the beast. Until, that is, Maura says something.

“I know you’ll never make me walk through those doors,” she says darkly to Jane, eyes stormy and assured. “You’ll never be the reason I go back.”

And then Jane realizes… their hands. Hope leans, is angled so that her gaze lines up right with their union. Maura speaks, her voice carrying toward the middle of the cab, so that Hope can hear. Jane understands that it isn’t placation at all - it’s a point. My relationship will never be as ugly and twisted as yours. Your relationship is and forever will be beneath mine. Maura has simply used Jane to make it.

Jane finds she likes being used much more than she likes being pitied. Even if she still wants to slap the bubble light on and burn through all the cars in front of them.

#lauren writes rizzoli and isles fanfiction #rizzoli and isles #otp prompts February 2024

[scullsliciously]

With all the refound Rizzoli and Isles love, here’s the fluffy little fic I wrote the other day

#Rizzoli and Isles #Rizzles #Fanfiction #My Fics