#Between Us

[live-from-flaturn]

American Television after 5 years of pushing for queer representation: I hope you wanted unnecessary drama, angst with a maybe resolution, and three unfulfilling seasons of questionably written flirtation. And that all comes before anything is half-confirmed with a singular lukewarm kissing scene between two conventionally attractive, white bisexual women!

Thai Television .3 seconds after they figured out queer content is marketable: Did you want something kinky, soft, or stupid? Did you want cat ears? We’ve got cat ears! We’ve got safe/sane/consensual OR off-the-charts bad etiquette BDSM. We’ve got college students out the ass! As long as they’re an engineer or architect, choose your flavor. Do you want an age gap or classmates? Something for adults? Teens? Everyone was childhood besties, how about that??? This is a short order restaurant and I will flip you some gays like they’re hotcakes, just tell me what you want.

[sailorholly]

Between Us Pt. 3

Summary: You and Spencer had a casual relationship. A misunderstanding ruins it all.

Pairing: Spencer Reid × F. BAU Reader

Warnings: Friends with benefits. Pregnancy.

See my Masterlist Here

Part Two

The stomach bug you had caught was so strange. You would be perfectly fine, eating whatever you wanted for hours. Then a certain smell would hit you like a ton of bricks, sending you running to the nearest bathroom or trash can.

It had been two weeks and you were still puking your guts up randomly. You made an appointment with your doctor at the end of the week to make sure nothing was seriously wrong with you.

You and the team had to fly out to Colorado for a case. You were so exhausted, you could barely keep your eyes open on the trip there. Penelope texted you for the fiftieth time today checking on you. You insisted you were fine, you just couldn’t get rid of whatever illness you had.

Spencer and Ashley sat across from you, her hands playing with his unruly curls like you used to. When he looked at you, concern written all over his face after you puked in the bathroom, she grabbed his face, pressing a kiss to his lips. That act alone made your stomach turn. Thankfully, Hotch cleared his throat, shooting them a warning glance.

When you finally landed, you were alone with Spencer. Hotch paired you up often because you worked well together. “Are you okay? I’ve been worried about you. You vomited six times yesterday. You’re having trouble holding down anything but crackers and ginger ale. You took a nap on the way here. You’ve never done that.”

“I’m fine, Spencer. Don’t worry about me. You should be worrying about your little girlfriend getting you in trouble for PDA.” He scrunches up his nose. “Are you jealous?” You laugh at that. “No, I’m not. I feel like death, and I don’t want to argue with you. I just don’t want to see you sucking face right in front of me when I’m nauseous anyways. I want to solve this case so I can go home and lay down.” He tried not to bother you with frivolous questions the rest of the day.

The next morning, you felt great. Your skin was glowing, you took time to style your hair and do your makeup. When you walked in the local police station to start work, everyone complimented you. Everyone except for Ashley, who rolled her eyes and seemed annoyed that you didn’t have your hair in a rat’s nest pooled on top of your head with dark circles under your eyes.

You ate all three meals with the team without needing to vomit. You couldn’t believe it was finally over. You decided to call your doctor first thing in the morning to cancel your appointment.

Your joy was short lived, when the next morning you felt awful again. Luckily, you hadn’t called your doctor yet. The day went by quickly. Rossi came up with the information you needed to find the unsub. You slept the whole way home.

You check into the doctor’s office filling out form after form. When the nurse calls you back, she gives you a cup and sends you into the bathroom. You wait in the small room for the doctor. Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest while you wait for her to come in.

When she finally arrives, she checks your vitals, writing them down on your chart. “How long do I have?” You ask, only kind of joking. She smiles, placing her stethoscope around her neck. “You’re not dying. You’re pregnant! Congratulations! According to the information you gave us, it looks like you’re about six weeks. We will schedule an ultra sound for another time to give you a more accurate prediction.”

You start to tune her out as she continues speaking. Pregnant? How could this happen? You and Spencer were always so careful except… Your mind flashes with memories of that night. How his feverish hands were all over you. How he couldn’t wait to have you so he took you against the wall. How beautiful he thought you looked with his cum dripping out of you. Now those actions had consequences. How were you going to tell him?

Tags

@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @multifandom-worlds @loz-3 @megharat-barnes-reid @kats72 @mochie85 @cakesandtom @spenciesprincess @kimm4710 @tmilover1993 @nomajdetective @cynbx @comboboo @134340ona @wannabewolf @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @freegardenbanananeck @lover-of-books-and-tea @maybe-not-this @drewsandsebastianswife @lamentis-10 @lizzyk137 @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch @rosylnsworld @amortencjja @ah-blossom

[braceletofteeth]

#favorite tropes (3/∞): Honorific of Choice

[threadbaresweater]

Suguru Geto x f!reader. Reader and Suguru are married and have a child (a girl). Said daughter has a habit of waking at inconvenient times. Family dynamics, married (parent) sex is hard. Keeping the flame alive is even harder when there's a tiny person at your bedroom door who needs attention. Part of my series Between Us. Not proofread (oh. oh god.)

series masterlist

"Mommy?"

The tiny voice, accompanied by a tentative knock, comes just as you were about to.

In the darkness of your bedroom, you climb off of Suguru and burrow yourself deep in the blankets of your bed.

"Mommy's sleeping, baby. What do you need?" Suguru asks, altering his voice to make it sound as if he was sleeping, too.

"I got scared," your daughter says, meek and muffled against your door. Your husband switches on the lamp and bends to pick up his boxers and t-shirt off the floor. slipping into them before throwing you a mirthless grin. He tucks his still hard cock into the waistband and pulls his hair back into a bun before padding over to unlock the door.

His brown-eyed little girl stands in the hall, hugging the neck of her favorite stuffed animal– a bunny, floppy-eared, baby blue, and obviously well-loved. Long eyelashes bat away crocodile tears, and Suguru gives her a gentle smile as he scoops her into his arms. "What scared you, hm?" He pulls the door shut and her wobbly little voice fades away as he carries her back to her room.

You heave a sigh and throw the covers off, arms bouncing unceremoniously off the mattress. You stare at the ceiling as your heartbeat returns to normal, your mood (and orgasm) ruined. For weeks now, your daughter has been waking soon after you put her to bed, and you can't figure out why. You have a routine that never falters— after dinner, there's a bath, then some free time, followed by a book, a night time snack if she's hungry, and a secure tucking in, complete with the family of stuffies that she insists on having in bed with her. You say goodnight, and she's asleep within a few minutes.

Of course, you love her. Of course, you knew that your life (sex most definitely included) would be forever altered after her birth. Part of parenting is making sacrifices for your children, big and small. What it doesn't call for is ignoring your most basic human needs and desires.

You've always had a healthy sex life with Suguru. There's mutual desire and a deep physical and emotional connection that both of you work hard to maintain, and it's important to both of you that you're mutually satisfied a few times a week. It doesn't always work out that way, and sometimes you have to get creative (and sneaky) to make it happen.

You consider your options while Suguru consoles your daughter. You could finish yourself off; there's a vibrator that he bought for you on your last birthday tucked away in your underwear drawer, but that would mean having to get out of bed (and it's so warm and soft, and you really don't feel like getting up). You could give yourself a little manual stimulation, but it's not the same as having Suguru between your thighs, and you pout thinking of how close you were just a few minutes ago. The only other option is to wait for him to return to your bedroom and finish what the two of you started before you were interrupted by innocence.

You fluff your pillow and curl into the blankets again, willing yourself not to fall asleep and miss the return of your husband to your side. By the time he comes back, you're barely lucid, breathing deep and even in the soft glow of lamplight. He locks the door and strips off his clothes, spooning himself against your back. His arm circles your waist, fingers working between your thighs while kisses fall soft on your bare shoulder.

"You're not sleeping, are you?" he teases on a quiet lilt, sinking his teeth into your earlobe as his finger finds your clit. You keen into your pillow and grind back against him.

"Someone has to sleep in this house," you quip; you move your leg to accommodate him anyway. He savors the drag of his cock through the softest, warmest part of you, but doesn't mess around in getting back down to business. Time is of the essence, and he wants you satisfied (he wants to be satisfied, too).

You come on a broken cry of his name as he whispers his devotion into the nape of your neck, arms wound tight around you while he grunts in his release.

"Oh, thank god," you pant. "I needed that so bad."

"You lie together for a few moments afterward, basking in the skin to skin contact, the intimacy of shared space, shared breath and shared heart beats. Suguru traces idle patterns across your abdomen until you turn and press your lips to his, honey slow and feather soft. You feel his lips turn up into a grin when your tongue slips into his mouth.

"Again?" he muses, palming at the fat of your hip.

"I just wanna kiss you."

And you do just that for exactly five minutes before there's another meek knock at your door.

Suguru buries his face between your breasts and sighs heavily. "Your turn."

He holds onto you as you clamber out of bed. "Let go," you giggle.

"Mamma?"

"Just a minute, honey!" you call, searching for your pajama bottoms in the tangle of sheets at the foot of the bed.

[themagnusbane]

The 'B' in Bisexual, is for Bikes!

[lunaylin]

you're so funny

[savage-flirtation]

[khaotunq]

an assortment of thai bl first (onscreen*) kisses (insp - this post crossed my dash and my brain wouldn't quit)

[metamorphesque]

I knew when I said I love you that I was inventing a new alphabet for a city where no one could read

Nizar Qabbani, Between Us

[rayandgay]

If you do that, you might not get to eat.

[negrowhat]

BL 2K24 CONTINUES TO BE FUCKING BANANAS! I WAKE UP TO FIND THAT BOUNPREM AND SANTA HAVE JOINED THE GMMTV RANKS???????? All I KNOW IS I BETTER STILL BE GETTING VAMPIRE PROJECT! DON'T FUCKING PLAY WITH ME!

[live-from-flaturn]

For Anyone's Next Watch-Through...

I've started noticing patterns. Send me more and I'll make another one!

[sailorholly]

Between Us Pt. 2

Summary: You and Spencer had a casual relationship. A misunderstanding ruins it all.

Pairing: Spencer Reid × F. BAU Reader

Warnings: Friends with benefits. Angst.

See My Masterlist Here

Part One

Tonight was the night you were going to confess your feelings to Spencer. You couldn’t keep it to yourself anymore, it was too painful. You were worried you would lose him when you told him, but you thought there was a good chance he felt the same.

You spent all afternoon cooking his favorite foods, planning for a night of cuddling and love making after you got the confession out of the way. When you were finished getting dressed, Spencer knocked on your door.

You invited him in, taking your seats at the table. You ate in silence, your nerves making your stomach hurt. “I have to tell you-“ “We should talk.” You spoke over each other. You smile, giggling with excitement. Spencer wanted to talk too. This is going so well.

“You go first.” You prompt him, smiling wide at him. “These past six months have been so fun. But I think our time together should come to an end.” You try to swallow the lump in your throat, willing yourself not to cry.

“I want to keep it professional at work. We can still be friends, we will just take the sex out of it.” He explains, studying your face. All you can do is nod as he rattles on about how the statistics of such a relationship show that the longer you did it, the harder it would be to end it.

You used to love hearing him spout a million facts about whatever topic he was talking about. But not tonight. “So what did you want to tell me?” He asks, serving himself more food. “Um, I was just going to tell you that book I ordered you came this morning. I thought you would be excited.” You rise from the table, retrieving the thick book from the counter and bringing it to Spencer.

“Thanks.” His smile breaks your heart. You can feel that your attempts to keep the tears at bay are failing. “Why don’t you take the food with you? I’m suddenly not feeling well.” You tell him, as you turn your back to get the lids for the bowls. You hand them to him, turning your back as the tears start to fall. “I’m going to lay down. Lock the door behind you.”

If he thought your sudden illness had anything to do with him, he didn’t act like it. Spencer was right about nothing changing. He was the exact same as he had always been with you, just without the sex.

Spencer was heartbroken. He didn’t want to end his sexual relationship with you. But he couldn’t put himself through the pain anymore. He spent all of his spare time with you. He couldn’t keep you off his mind. Things had changed a few months ago. He had bent the rules he set in place so he wouldn’t fall for you.

You had started spending the night and cuddling. Spencer had fallen fast and hard. But he couldn’t go through every day knowing you didn’t feel the same. So he had to end it, as painful as it was for him. It was no secret that you had been hooking up. But he didn’t want to talk about it with anyone.

Until two weeks after he called it off, he was so upset, he broke down and talked to Derek. He wanted to know all the details, but Spencer only told him the important information. “I have an easy fix for you, pretty boy.” Morgan smirked at him. Spencer leaned in, excited there was a solution.

“You know what they say, if you want to get over someone, get under someone else. You just have to sleep with someone and she will be the last thing you’re thinking of. Works for me every time.” Spencer cleared his throat. “Easy for you to say. I’m lucky she agreed to sleep with me. I’ll never find someone else so quickly, and I’m not sure I would want to.”

“I know someone who has been into you since she started here.” Derek boasts, nodding his head to the blonde at the coffee pot talking to Rossi. “Ashley?” Spencer squeaked, while Derek laughed.

Ashley Seaver was one coworker you could not get used to. She was impulsive, always throwing herself into trouble. You couldn’t stand her. Not only for how she acted on the field, but for how she looked at Spencer. She wanted him, and she didn’t care who knew it. She was all over him from the second she started working at the BAU.

She even knew that you and Spencer were hooking up, but she didn’t care. She used every opportunity to touch him or say something flirty, making eye contact with you the whole time she did it. Luckily, Spencer was oblivious. When you mentioned how she hung all over him, he said he didn’t even notice. He was too busy thinking about the case or the thing you did with your tongue the night before.

So you stopped being jealous. It wasn’t like you had any right to be. You and Spencer were just hooking up. If he wasn’t interested in her, then you would just let it go. The last time she tried anything had been a month ago. You were sick and she invited Spencer to go eat after work.

Spencer being the nice guy he is, accepted her offer. While they were out, he talked about you the whole time. She had told him to stop talking about you, that she was right there and she wanted whatever he was willing to give. He politely turned her down, but she was furious. She kept her distance from both of you since then.

That’s why you were confused when you heard her squealing and giggling, saying Spencer’s name as loudly as she could. You looked up from your mountainous stack of paperwork that you came in early to work on to see Spencer hugging her.

There was a vase of roses on her desk. “I can’t believe you got these for me! What a surprise! I knew you would come around!” She almost yelled, looking directly at you. Spencer took her hand in his, “I wanted to get you something before our date tonight, but I wasn’t sure I would have time to get them after work.” He explained shyly looking at her.

That little shit! Was he actually blushing? Was he seriously going on a date with Ashley tonight? And what is with the roses? He never once got you flowers. Did he call things off with you to date her? Seeing them together made you feel sick. Actually, the temperature felt like it rose a hundred degrees. You needed to get up now. You ran to the bathroom making it just in time to throw up.

Tags

@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @multifandom-worlds @loz-3 @megharat-barnes-reid @kats72 @mochie85 @cakesandtom @spenciesprincess @kimm4710 @tmilover1993 @nomajdetective @cynbx @comboboo @13430ona @wannabewolf @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @freegardenbanananeck

[kexing]

I really wanna be your safe zone.

[threadbaresweater]

Nanami Kento x f!reader. Reader has a sensitive gag reflex and feels insecure about it. Kento is reassuring in more ways than one. Another installment in my series on intimacy. passing mention of vomit (doesn't actually happen in this fic. Mdni.

series masterlist

It isn't that you don't want to suck Kento’s dick. You just...can't.

Well, you can. Sort of. But it isn't like you envisioned it. Not his dick– the actual sucking itself. And it isn't just your current boyfriend's dick. It's the few others in your modest scope of sexual experiences that you've tried– and sort of succeeded– to suck. You've read stories about women being able to “hollow out their cheeks” or “open their throat” to accommodate cocks of every girth and length, but you've never understood how. Not when you've got a gag reflex that activates as soon as the tip hits the back of your throat, and it's simultaneously embarrassing and humiliating when your eyes fill with tears and you almost dry heave into his lap.

It's not as if he asked you to give him head. You want to try. You think maybe since some time has passed since your last relationship, your gag reflex has somehow fixed itself and won't be quite as sensitive. So you give it the old college try. You're sitting pretty between Kento's knees. He's spread for you on the couch; the first few buttons of his shirt are undone, his tie slung carelessly around his neck, and you've discarded his pants in favor of giving yourself plenty of room to work.

You've had sex with him, so you know that his size is somewhat intimidating. You figure you can just…go slow. Suck some blossoms into the tender skin of his thighs, fondle his balls a little, let your tongue dance along his frenulum (you know he's sensitive there). When you wrap your hand around him, you're intimidated by the fact that your fingers just barely close around it. You use your thumb to spread the clear, slippery pre-cum over his tip, and he shudders, sucking in a breath through his teeth.

Kento doesn't talk much when you're intimate like this, and you prefer it that way. You like listening to the way he breathes, or the low growls that seem to vibrate from his chest when you kiss him in just the right spot. But when you lave your tongue up the underside of his cock and take the head of it into your mouth, he groans. Low and deep. “Oh, fuck.”

Here we go, you think. Cheering yourself on to gradually take as much of him as you can into your mouth. He's heavy on your tongue, warm and salt and slick and musk. You make a little sound as if to comfort him (it's okay, baby. I'll make you feel good) and grip his knees to steady yourself as you go a little deeper. You feel the head touch your soft palate and your blood runs cold.

This is when the trouble usually begins. It has a little to do with the taste and texture of his natural lubrication. It isn't…unpleasant, but it isn't exactly one of your favorite things to have on your tongue. Then there's the daunting task of wanting– and trying– to get as much of him in your mouth and into your throat as you can. You hesitate. You swallow. You close your eyes. And just as you're about to give it your all, Kento’s palm is on your forehead.

With a third of his cock still in your mouth, you look up at him through watery eyes. The look on his face is a strange mix of pleasure and disbelief, and your heart lurches. He knows. Somehow, he understands what's happening without you having to say a word.

“Do you want to do this?” he asks. It's barely a whisper, but the concern is palpable. You lock eyes with him and whimper, nodding as much as you can with your mouth full.

He clicks his tongue. “That's not very convincing.”

With a sigh, you release him, replacing your mouth with your hand, which he quickly covers with his own when you start to stroke him.

“Are you doing this because I went down on you the last time we had sex?”

Your face feels suddenly hot, and you rest your cheek on his thigh. “If I said yes, what would you say?”

He strokes the crown of your head. “I'd say that it's not necessary to return the favor.” There's a pause, then he speaks again. “I get the impression that you're a little unsure of yourself.”

It's embarrassing to be called out in the heat of the moment, sure. But there's another not so small part of you that's thankful for his perception. Kento is nothing if not intuitive and carefully attentive to all the little things that make you, you.

“I want to make you feel good,” you say. It sounds pathetic to your ears, and you hope he doesn't think so, too.

“I'll feel good if you feel good,” he says earnestly. “Your pleasure is my pleasure.”

“I'm not good at this,” you admit. You stand and rid yourself of the remainder of your clothes– there really isn't much left. Kento watches you almost thoughtfully, admiring the dip of your waist, the softness of your belly, the way the muscle of your thighs ripple as you climb into his lap and straddle him. His broad hands slide onto your hips and give them a subtle squeeze, and you lean forward to kiss him, feeling a little more confident.

“Do you think it's important to me that you are?” Kento asks.

“Is it?” you counter.

He captures your lips with his again, using his hands to pull you closer so that the head of his cock brushes against your mons. “Don't be dense.”

You roll your eyes. He kisses your neck. “Kento–”

“What matters to me,” he murmurs, just behind your ear, nudging your jaw with his nose, “is that you are comfortable doing something. If you're not,” he continues, fingers slipping between your legs, “I'll know. And it will not be sexy for me. Because I'll know it's not sexy for you.” His middle finger brushes over your clit, and you bite your lip to quell a soft moan. “Understood?”

“Yes,” you sigh, just as he angles your hips to push himself inside you.

[kangsailom]