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givemequeen · 20 hours
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requests opened for Spencer Reid!
feel free to send anything in <33
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givemequeen · 3 days
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worst part about getting angry is how much it makes you want to be mean
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givemequeen · 4 days
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Star Wars: Episode III – Revenge of the Sith (2005)
Dir. George Lucas
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givemequeen · 4 days
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sorry but i had to
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givemequeen · 4 days
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lap dance: spencer reid x reader
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a/n: another fic inspired by someone's (thirst) post. hope you enjoy it!
warnings: nsfw, unprotected sex, lap dance, sex in front of a mirror
You were wearing just the white hotel bathrobe when Spencer knocked softly on the door. He had waited the usual hour after everyone said goodnight before sneaking towards you room.
"Hey there." he whispered as he entered your room. "Did you just step out of the shower?" his hands were on you the second the door closed; both hands on your waist, squeezing you against him,
You pulled him down for a kiss "Mmhm." you hummed against his mouth.
He was still wearing his work clothes; brown trousers, light blue shirt, and dark blue tie. He had rolled up his sleeves up to his elbows, exposing his arms and all the veins that popped out.
Fuck, he looked sexy.
You stepped back, getting a good look at him, and, pulling on his tie, walked backwards towards the armchair situated in the corner of your hotel room. Grabbing his shoulders, you sat him down. He raised his eyebrows in surprise.
"What's going on?" he asked, adjusting himself in his seat. He was relaxed, his arms resting on the side of the chair.
You said nothing. Slowly, you tugged on the robe's belt. Spencer watched as the white garment fell to floor, pooling around your bare feet.
"Oh." he breathed, sitting up straight. He reached out, his warm hands flattening against your hips, and pulled you towards him. His mouth was on you in an instant; kissing your stomach, your breasts, your thighs. Anywhere he could reach.
"You look perfect." he groaned. "Is this all for me?" he tugged on the band of the black, lacy lingerie set you had bought last weekend.
"Yeah." you finally said. "Do you like it?" you knew he did, it was dumb question, but you wanted to hear him say it.
"Like it?" he scoffed. "I love it." he let go of the thong's strap, it snapped against your thigh. You let out a small moan at the feeling. "You like that?" he said, his words echoing yours.
You nodded.
"Turn around." he leaned back on his chair, the removal of his hands hand in hand with the loss of his warmth.
You did as he asked, turning around to give him a full look of your set. He whistled, clearly approving of your outfit choice.
"Shit, you look amazing." he swore, pulling at the knot at his neck and undoing his tie. He reached out to grab you once more and moved to pull you onto his lap.
You obliged, sliding against him like a puzzle piece snapping into place. He was already hard and you could feel him pressing against your legs. You rolled your hips, moaning at the feeling of him. He kissed you, hard.
Spencer took your lower lip between his teeth, tugging at the soft flesh and the swiping his tongue over it. You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging slightly just how he liked it. He placed his hands on your ass, kneading it.
"Wait." you placed your hands on his shoulders and pulled away.
"What is it, babe?" he asked, chasing your lips.
"I have a surprise for you." you got off of his lap and stood in front of him.
"Another one?" his tone was eager.
You nodded and walked over to your phone that lay on your nightstand. You hit play; a low, seductive song began playing high enough that you two could hear it but low enough that your hotel neighbours wouldn't.
You reached down and pulled on your left tight that had rolled downwards. Spencer licked his lip, eager for whatever was about to unfold.
You stepped towards him, swinging your hips and fighting the urge to cover up. He wanted this, he loved your body. And if him telling you so didn't convince you, the raw lust and hunger in his eyes surely did.
When you were stood in front of him, you spun around and lowered yourself onto his lap. He placed his hands on your hips, not guiding you, just resting there. You rolled your ass on his crotch, feeling your arousal grow at his very obvious one.
You placed your hands on his knees, spreading your legs wide. Your back arched, pressing yourself further into him. Spencer groaned, moaning your name.
"God, you're an angel." he whispered.
You pushed off of him and spun around. You placed your right leg on his left knee and made a show of tugging your tights up, snapping the sheer, black material against your thighs.
"I've been waiting for you all day, Spence." you said, keeping your voice low and steady. "Been thinking about you all day. About what you would do to me." you leaned down and kissed him, grabbing his cheek.
When you pulled away, he leaned forward, cashing your lips.
"What do you want me to do to you?" he asked, licking his lips.
"Lots of things, Spence. Dirty things." your placed your hand on your breast, your finger tracing circles around your nipples. Slowly, you slid your hand down your body, stopping at your belly button. "I want you to touch me. Here."
"What else?" his eyes were getting darker. You could see how he was holding himself back, his arms gripped the chair.
"I want you to fuck me." you said innocently. "Hard." you added. His eyes sparkled.
"How?" he asked.
"However you want."
"I want you to ride me. Can you do that for me, darling?" he leaned forward and grabbed your waist.
"Yes. I'll do anything for you." you leaned down and finally kissed him, relishing in the way he hungrily kissed you back. You moaned against his lips, he slipped his tongue into your mouth.
You rolled your hips against his erection, hands frantically reaching for his belt. Quickly, you undid it and with some struggle, you pulled down his trousers and pants. Your fingers quickly undid his shirt, leaving it on but exposing his chest. You went to take off your own underwear but he stopped you.
"No." one of his hands wrapped around both of yours. "It stays on."
You swallowed and nodded. His hands slid over the curve of your ass, guiding you towards him. He reached between you and pulled your underwear to the side. Once you were lined up, he pushed the head of his cock into you.
"Fuck." you hissed, gripping onto his shoulders.
"C'mon baby, I know you can take it." he looked up to your eyes and raised an eyebrow, daring you to prove him wrong.
You looked into his eyes as you relaxed and slid him into you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he bottomed out. He stretched you in the nicest way possible.
His hands were on your waist, guiding you as you rocked your hips against him. He tugged your left cup down, revealing your breast. His mouth on your breast was like heaven. His tongue and lips skilfully licked and sucked just where you needed him the most.
Your head fell back, eyes closed tightly. You bounced on his cock, your grip on his shoulders was so tight you were scared it would harm him. But Spencer only encouraged you, praising you.
"You're doing so well." he moaned. "Fuck, you do it so well. You take me so well. I knew you could."
His words only made you go faster. Your tits bounced as you sped up. Your hand reached between the two of you, quickly finding your clit.
"Are you close, baby?" he asked, his hands on your waist helping you as you bounced on him.
"Yes, fuck." you rubbed harder. "Are you?" you popped open one eye and stared at him.
Spencer was looking down, between the two of you, as he slid in and out of you.
"Shit. Look." he ordered, slowly you down. "Look at how well I fit inside of you. Look how well you ride my cock." he grabbed your chin and made you look down.
You moved your hand and watched as his cock slowly slid in and out of you.
"Spence." you panted. "The bathroom. There's a mirror." you gestured behind you with your head, towards the open bathroom.
In one swift move, Spencer hooked his arms around your thighs and picked you up. He, while still buried deep inside of you, shuffled over to the bathroom, setting you down on the counter.
"Shit. You look so good." he rolled his hips against you. "Your ass looks amazing." he grabbed it, squeezing it gently.
Spencer picked up his pace, fucking you quickly as you both chased your high. From this angle, he could reached between you; you always preferred his fingers.
The pad of his fingers pressed against your clit as he quickly fucked you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him as close to you as possible. Your torsos were pressed flush against each other. You rested your head on his shoulder, biting down on it and you got closer and closer.
Spencer was looking over your shoulder, staring at your ass as you moaned his name.
"Fuck, yes, I want to hear you moan my name while you come." he leaned back and stared into your eyes. "Are you close?" he asked.
You bit your lower lip and vigorously nodded. You were so close.
"Come for me." he sped his movements. "Look at me." he said when your eyes rolled to the back of your head. "Say my name."
You didn't need to be told twice. You moaned his name like a prayer as you stared into his deep brown eyes. His pupils were blown wide, eclipsing the familiar colour.
"Fuck me. Shit. Don't stop. Spencer, fuck-" you moaned, your orgasm crashing into you like a wave.
You pressed your lips against his, teeth clashing, as fireworks exploded behind your eyes. You squeezed his cock, pushing him over the edge. He pushed into you once, twice, three times, as his cum filled you.
The heel of your foot pressed against his lower back, keeping him in place even after you both came down from your high. You pulled back from the kiss, panting, and smiled.
"That was so good." Spencer whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. He gave you a small kiss and began moving backwards.
You wrapped your legs around him tighter.
"Wait. Not yet." you said, not wanting to feel that overwhelming sense of emptiness just yet. "Wait a minute."
Spencer laughed, a deep rumbling laugh, and kissed you gently.
"Anything you want, baby."
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givemequeen · 4 days
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might write something like this... feeling devious
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givemequeen · 4 days
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The real barbie is Y/n.
Y/n’s a doctor, a cop, a scientist, an agent, vet, hero, villain, astronaut, lawyer, spy, criminal, artist, chef, engineer, psychologist, architect, journalist, firefighter, event planner, mechanic, photographer, musician, actor, interior designer, bartender, fashion designer, barista, florist, forensic scientist, flight attendant, profiler, tour guide, translator, etc.
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givemequeen · 4 days
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Hello! It’s me again. :)
I have a concept but I’m unsure about a plot, if that’s okay.
Could you maybe write a Spencer x Fem!Quiet reader who likes to draw? And Spencer always sees her doodling on her papers while she’s bored like flowers and eyes and stuff? And sometimes she draws the team while they’re working but one day Spencer sees her drawing him and he confronts her very politely and she’s all flustered and blushing? I don’t know if it’s something you’re comfortable with, I just like to draw and if I worked with the FBI that would definitely be something I would do if I was bored. 😄🫶🏻
Thanks a ton!!! I love your writing.
doneee! hope you enjoy it <333
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givemequeen · 4 days
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the artist; spencer reid x reader
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request: Hello! It’s me again. :) I have a concept but I’m unsure about a plot, if that’s okay. Could you maybe write a Spencer x Fem!Quiet reader who likes to draw? And Spencer always sees her doodling on her papers while she’s bored like flowers and eyes and stuff? And sometimes she draws the team while they’re working but one day Spencer sees her drawing him and he confronts her very politely and she’s all flustered and blushing? I don’t know if it’s something you’re comfortable with, I just like to draw and if I worked with the FBI that would definitely be something I would do if I was bored. 😄🫶🏻 Thanks a ton!!! I love your writing.
a/n: i love spencer sm. i rly hope this is what you were looking for! thanks for the request :)
It had all started with some fun doodling; a couple of fun little drawings here and there when things were slow or during long flights. It hadn't been anything serious. Then, you attempted drawing landscapes; mountains, buildings, anything. Not just silly doodles.
Drawing helped you pass time, you enjoyed it and, if you said so yourself, you were quite good at it. Drawing people had always scared you, you weren't sure if you could get it right so you started with strangers, people on the bus or tram, in long queues, at cafes.
On one particularly long flight to Seattle you had drawn Hotch. His hard stare and furrowed brows as he read over a case made him easy to draw. Then it was Garcia, her bright smile brought you comfort. Then Rossi and JJ and Morgan.
And finally, Spencer, the cutest member. You could definitely see why Morgan called him pretty boy. His soft lips and hair beautifully juxtaposed his sharp jawline and slim fingers.
He was you're favourite to draw. You had around half a dozen drawings of the team by now; some individual, some in groups. But, your best drawings where those you had done on Spencer.
"Wow. You're really good." Spencer voice made you jump, nearly spilling your coffee over your drawing.
He had just gone to the jet's bathroom - you had been careful to hide your work as he passed by you.
"Spence!" you yelped, moving to clean up. "You scared me." you pressed your sketchpad against your chest, hiding your drawing from sight.
"May I see?" he leaned over and stretched out his hand - that gorgeous, slender hand of his. The one you had a couple drawing dedicated to in the very sketchpad he was reaching towards.
"No!" you said, a little too quickly. "I- erm-"
"Oh, that's okay, sorry for asking." he straightened up. "I just... well I thought that was a really good drawing. You made me look quite nice." his voice was soft, no one else could hear you.
Apart from the looks from that initial scream, no one was paying any attention to you two, everyone too immersed in their own thing to pay attention. You looked around, confirming no one was watching, and moved over in your seat.
"Sit." you said, patting the space beside you.
Spencer sat down, his thigh warm against yours, and smiled at you.
"Here." you offered him your sketchpad and hid your face in your hands, too ashamed to watch his reaction.
He opened the first page and oohed. You peaked between your fingers, wondering what he was looking at. It was your very first doodles. He pointed out some and smiled; his revolver, his favourite book, Morgan's headphones, Garcia's pens.
"I really like these." he said.
"Thanks." you mumbled.
He turned the pages, his fingers feeling the bumps and ridges of the drawing. He was particularly fond of the one you did of Vegas' skyline.
"That's amazing." he said, more to himself than to you.
You pulled away one of your hands and leaned over to him. His scent was overpowering in the best way possible; coffee, old books, and that new cologne he had been trying out.
He finally got to the one you made of Hotch. Spencer laughed out loud, looking up to his boss and laughing even more.
"Identical! Same expression." he whispered in between laughs.
"Thank you." you said, a smile appearing on your face.
"Oh and Garcia..." he laughed. "The same smile..."
He passed the pages - the first drawing you had done of Morgan made him laugh again. It had been of him flirting with Garcia; you had nailed his wicked grin.
Finally, he flipped the paged onto his section of the book. The first one you had done of him he had been reading a book, his fingers pressed against the pages and he read page after page.
"Oh wow." he whispered. "That's... it's amazing. You're such an artist. How did you manage it?" he turned to look at you.
"Oh, well, I dunno." you bit the inside of your cheek. He wasn't mad you had drawn him without permission or something? "You like it?" you asked.
"Of course! They're amazing." he reached out to squeeze your hand. "You're amazing. I'm really impressed."
You stared at your joined hands and your heart skipped a beat. "Thanks." you stuttured.
Spencer let go of your hand and went back to passing the pages. The next drawing, he had been fast asleep, an open book resting against his chest. He laughed at that one too, making some comment about how ridiculous he looked.
"Well, I thought you looked cute." you whispered, scared he might actually hear you.
"Yeah?" he said, looking over at you.
"Yeah." you said.
Spencer was blushing. He quickly looked away and flitted through the rest of the pages. He was especially impressed by the one of his hands ("wow, I had no idea they looked so..." "beautiful?" "creepy").
He closed the book gently and handed it over to you.
"I'd love to get a copy of some of those, if you don't mind." he was so close to you, you were afraid he could hear your heartbeat.
"Yes- no- I mean, I don't mind. I'll send you the original." you were having trouble trying not to stare at his lips for too long.
"You'd do that?" Spencer asked.
"Of course, since you were such a good subject." you laughed and stared into his soft eyes.
"I'd love to be an actual subject for you one day, since you're so good at it." he moved to stand up and you nearly whined as his warmth left you. "If you ever need a subject, let me know." he flashed you that sweet smile of his and made his way back to his seat.
You couldn't believe what had just happened. It took everything in you not to squeal and dance around like a teenage girl. You pressed your sketchpad against your chest and buried yourself deep into your seat, already thinking of all the poses you could get Spencer into.
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givemequeen · 5 days
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my man
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givemequeen · 5 days
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ngl this inspired me to write a little something something:
i’m ovulating okay.
but imagine giving head to spencer after a rough day at work. u usually spit but today’s different. he’s still dressed, he was that desperate to feel your mouth on him. he glares down at you, as if you were the one to piss him off at work today. one hands in your hair, holding you in place even after he finishes. he uses his other hand to pinch your nose. you have no choice but to
“swallow.”
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givemequeen · 5 days
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swallow; spencer x reader
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i saw this post and i knew i had to write something. i hope you enjoy it!
warnings: bj, dom!spencer
You were in the kitchen, barefoot, dancing and only wearing your boyfriend's shirt, when Spencer walked in. He slammed the door loud enough to be heard over your blaring music. You moved to turn it down and stuck your head around the corner, wondering what had happened.
"You okay, Spence?" you asked, slightly worried.
"Yes." he lied as he kicked off his shoes and dropped his bag on the floor.
"Okay, obviously you're not." you walked out onto the hallway and made your way towards him. "Do you want to talk about it?" you asked, placing your hands on his shoulders and reaching up to peck him.
It was supposed to be a short, sweet, innocent peck. Just a small hey there peck. But Spencer had other plans.
He grabbed the back of your neck and deepened the kiss. His other hand went to your lower back, pulling you flush against him. Your yelp morphed into a moan as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You flung your arms around his neck, fingers playing with his hair.
Spencer tasted like coffee and like him, that sweet taste that lingered in your mouth long after any kiss with him. His hand slipped onto your ass, grabbing the soft flesh and pressing you ever closer to him.
"Oh!" you yelped as you felt his boner press against you. "What's this?" you murmured into the kiss, one hand slipped between the two of you. You palmed him through his trousers.
"I've been thinking about you all day." he groaned. "About your pretty mouth around my cock." he took your chin in between his thumb and forefinger and titled your head up towards him. His thumb brushed over your lower lip and pushed through, pressing against your tongue.
You wrap your lips around his finger and suck, looking up at him through your lashes. Your tongue dances around his thumb, your teeth grazing him just how he likes it.
"Fuck." he swears. "You're going to be the death of me." his voice is low, a rumble in this throat.
You fight the urge to smile, feeling it wouldn't fit The Mood, and instead, go back to feeling his cock through his trousers. Spencer bucks his hips towards your touch, eyes going dark as he watches you suck on his thumb.
He slips his thumb out of your mouth with a pop and, without needing to ask you, you go down on your knees. You reach up to undo his belt but he beats you to it, unbuckling it and slipping it off with one fell swoop. Fuck, you feel your arousal react to him.
Spencer grips your chin again, forcing you to look up at him. His trousers fall to his knees and you reach up to free his cock while maintaining eye contact. You grab his cock and pump him a couple of times before slipping him into your mouth. You watch as his mouth falls open into a perfect "o".
He closes his eyes and drops his head. He's impatient; he rolls his hips forward, shoving his cock down your throat. You gag, his size overwhelming you and move to back away. But Spencer holds you firm, a warm hand on the back of your head collects all your hair and holds you in place.
"Spence-" you gag over his dick, your hands flying to his thighs. You grip his legs and feel as your eyes begin to water.
"Fuck." he groans. "You feel so good, baby. C'mon, breathe through your nose. I know you can take it."
You do as he says and try to relax your throat, moulding yourself around him. Once you feel ready, you begin to move your head up and down his cock. You grip whatever you cannot fight into your mouth with your hand and pump his cock to the beat of your head.
Your tongue flicks up and down his cock, wrapping around the head where he is most sensitive. He's reacting beautifully; moaning your name, bucking his hips, whimpering.
"Fuck, baby, fuck." he keeps repeating your name, each time it urges you to go faster, deeper. "Yes - shit - just like that."
He's slurring his words, his mind is foggy. You can tell he's close. You take as much of him as you can into your mouth. His cock hits the back of your throat and you gag again, you're nearly full on crying now. You must look a mess; messed-up hair and mascara running down your cheeks.
Spencer tells you so. "You look amazing, my love. I'm close- keep going." his words encourage you; you don't stop. "Just like that. 'm close." he keeps repeating.
His jaw falls open, a low, primal grunt coming from deep within him. He's gripping your hair and calling out your name as he comes. You feel his cum in your mouth and you keep sucking, making sure he's completely done before moving to get off of him but Spencer stops you.
Once more, he holds you in place. You look up at him and furrow your brows. His cock is starting to soften in your mouth. He reaches down and pinches your nose.
"Swallow." its not a question, its an order.
You've never done it before, you usually always spit. Not that you wouldn't mind trying his cum, it's just not what you usually did.
You swallow, its audible in the quiet hallway. You feel his cock begin to harden once more in your mouth. Once Spencer is happy and sure you've done as he has ordered, he lets you go.
He helps you up and immediately kisses you. "You were perfect, my love." he says in between kisses.
You pull away and smile at him, licking your lips. "You taste good." you say innocently.
But you knew exactly what you were doing and though you yelp in surprise when Spencer picks you up and takes you to your shared room, you knew exactly what result that would garner.
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givemequeen · 5 days
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in the dead of night
in which spencer wakes up in the middle of the night with an overwhelming desire to feel you
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: fem!reader, soft dom!spence (certified nereidprinc3ss classic), sub reader, fingering, piv sex, praise, overstimulation, cr**mp*e (god pls we need a new term) a/n: this is probably THEE most self-indulgent thing i've ever written. but.... lowkey favorite smut i've posted thus far..... i'm such a sucker for disgustingly sleepy needy sex. just.... read it and u will see.... and as usual i love you!!! PLEASE tell me what you think!! MWAH
When Spencer got home around one in the morning, he’d been too dead on his feet to do anything more than get undressed, fall into bed, pull you close, and pass out. Now he’s slightly disoriented as he stirs, pinned between sleep and wakefulness as he realizes how you’ve curled into his side—your face is buried in his shoulder to the point where he’s concerned about your access to air—but each warm puff against his neck assures him you’re breathing alright. One arm is slung haphazardly over his shoulder and your top leg is wound around his. Without thinking, his hand cups the back of your thigh, stroking the bare skin where it presses against his hip. You’re never so soft as you are in sleep; plush, easy, gentle. Spencer realizes with some degree of frustration that he has to fuck you. That’s why he’s awake, and he condemned himself to the fate of it as soon as he touched you. 
Sometimes the impracticality of sex becomes so apparent he resents his own mammalian, biological drive to reproduce. It was never like this before he met you. You reduce him to nothing more than a primate doomed to follow its basest instincts. You make him feel stupid. 
God, he loves you. 
It’s with this in mind he drops his head to kiss your shoulder—a gentle sort of wake up call, as his hand snakes further around to your inner thigh and he presses his lips to your ear. 
“Baby?” he murmurs, kneading the smooth warmth of your leg. It doesn’t take much to wake you up. He thought after you’d been staying at his apartment on a semi-regular basis you’d begin to sleep through him getting up and coming home at odd hours, but if anything, you became more sensitive to the floor creaking or the mattress dipping. 
“Hm?” 
His fingers brush the fabric of your underwear. Your hips twitch. 
“Is this okay?”
You inhale deeply, readjusting your arms around him and nodding into his chest. 
“I need yes or no, angel.”
“Yes, please.”
The words aren’t desperate. They’re sleepy, mumbled, maybe even a little annoyed that he’s making you jump through hoops. The corner of his mouth twists in amusement at your perfunctory politeness and the way it poorly disguises your habitual impatience. 
“Thank you,” he says, rewarding you with his fingers pushing between your folds through the fabric. You say nothing more as he unhurriedly rubs your clothed clit, but he feels the way your breath catches for a moment—before pouring out in one deep tide. He presses slightly harder, transitioning from passes to slow, tight circles that elicit the tiniest, sleepiest moans. This goes on for a while until your hips begin grinding in isolated circles, chasing his hand. 
“Touch it,” you beg quietly. He can feel how damp you are through the fabric and realizes he was probably torturing you for several minutes, but sometimes he just gets so lost in touching you it becomes almost meditative. He pulls his hand away and snakes it between your bodies, sliding beneath your underwear and dragging his fingers over your puffy clit. You whimper but he quickly gets distracted when he realizes just how wet you actually are. Spencer sinks his fingers into you and moans lowly at the sound, rubbing at a spot deep inside you and rutting his palm against your clit rather than pumping his fingers. 
“Breathe,” he reminds you when he realizes how still and silent you’ve gone. A small amount of air escapes in a tremulous little cry as your hips roll gently against his hand—whether to escape the sensation or get closer is unclear. “You’re all wet, baby. Were you touching yourself before I got home?”
“Mhm,” you hum weakly against him. “Couldn’t come.”
Spencer feels like he could finish at the thought alone—the nightly phone calls while he’s away occasionally devolve into desperate phone sex and he’s gotten off to the image of you playing with yourself in his bed on more than one occasion. 
“We’ll make you come,” he promises, dragging his fingers from your soaked heat with bated breath. 
He pushes your underwear down first, until you can kick it off your feet (you’ll have to search for it between tangled sheets tomorrow) and then his own, inhaling sharply through clenched teeth as his cock brushes your tummy. Spencer hoists your bent leg further up his body, exposing your cunt a little more and reaching underneath your thigh until he can guide himself between them. 
The head of his cock pushes between your folds momentarily before he’s teasing your swollen clit, slipping the underside of his tip over it in lazy, noisy circles until you whine. 
“Stop it,” you beg, voice still strained with sleep, “need it inside.”
“You’re right, baby, I’m sorry,” he croons, pressing his lips to your hair as he notches his cock at your dripping entrance and slowly begins to push in. “You’re being very patient—”
He cuts himself off as the two of you moan in filthy harmony. You’re so worked up for him, so defenseless in your half-unconscious state that he slips in with far less resistance than usual. 
“Fuck, me,” he groans under his breath, hissing and bucking his hips when you tighten around him and cry out. He shuts his eyes and thinks of the Goncharov conjecture in an attempt to control himself; the i-th cohomology of the complex is isomorphic to the motivic cohomology group—and then he’s fine. He’s at least learned to stop rattling off mathematical paradoxes out loud during sex. “You okay?”
The only answer you have for him is an indecipherable whine that makes his chest ache. He rubs your thigh in sweet, soothing passes. 
“I know, I’m sorry.” A thought occurs—he chuckles breathily, seeing stars as you throb around him. “You never let me in that easily.”
“Mm,” you squeak, gripping his shoulder hard enough that it aches and he truly couldn’t care less, “you feel good.”
He exhales shakily, pulling out slightly before grinding his hips even deeper into yours. 
“Yeah? So do you, sweet girl.”
“Fuck,” you whimper, and he takes it as a sign that you’re ready to be fucked. Spencer’s not thinking about a whole lot as he withdraws all the way and you clench around him desperately—but somewhere in the back of his mind he’s realizing how much he loves your dirty mouth. When he was younger and dumber, he thought he’d prefer a girl who was soft-spoken and rarely (if ever) cursed. Now that he’s had you, he realizes how compelling and endearing the contrast of your soft voice is when you’re swearing like a marine. 
“God, I missed you,” he breathes into your hair as he leisurely finds the right pace and you melt against him. “I missed how soft and wet you get for me,” Spencer admits gently, eyes screwed shut as he rambles from a place of profound affection and not at all thinking clearly, “and I missed how you cry when you need it so bad it hurts, and I missed how sweet you are when you let me fuck you right after I get home and you’re so tired, just like this. You’re always so good, honey, I don’t know what I did to deserve you—” You whine and clench so hard around him it becomes an effort to push back in, and he groans as he realizes you’re already coming. “Good girl, baby. Holy fuck.”
That last part is more so whispered to himself, but he can’t help it as he feels you painting his cock with your release. You’ve never come this quickly before, and he slips his arm beneath the crook of your knee, pulling up and granting himself more access to fuck you harder and faster. You moan brokenly, sinking your nails into his back. 
“‘m sorry. That was—I didn’t mean to.”
“No,” he quickly assures you, breathing hard, “that was so good, baby. It was perfect. Don’t apologize.”
It seems the brief window between climax and over-stimulation has passed, and a gasp falls from your dropped jaw, arching into him as your body unconsciously tries to find relief from the sensation. 
“Oh, god, Spencer, I—”
“You can take it, we’re getting close,” he promises. Not a demand, but meant as encouragement. “Do you think you can come for me one more time?”
“I don’t know,” you slur, the words rising to squeak. 
“I think you can. Come on, show me how you were touching yourself earlier.”
You whimper, but slide your hand from his shoulder and push it between your bodies. A gasp accompanies the jolt of your muscles as you make contact with your clit, probably demanding too much of it. Soon, however, the conflicted mewls melt into a rhythmic string of delicate, short moans, so pretty it’s like a practiced song. Spencer’s brain, usually overflowing with words, is nothing but a void of swirling fog—each of your perfect sounds, a little burst of light. Soon he’s making noises of his own, which you obviously adore if the way you tense around him is any clue. Usually he sublimates them into words, but he’s too tired, and you feel too good. Your combined moans, along with the sound of him fucking you and the sheets moving over skin make for a truly dirty soundscape. 
“Will you come inside me?” you beg breathlessly, and he can feel the movement of your hand speeding up as you get desperate. He sucks in a breath through his teeth at your plaintive request—the words bring him that much closer to finishing. 
“Yeah, baby. I’m—fuck, I’m not going to last.”
“Spencer—” and somehow, when you say his name like that, he knows exactly what you want. He bows his head and finds your lips, mostly blind in the dark, kissing you messily until that split second where his grip on reality becomes tenuous before the building pressure finally bursts. Multicolored fireworks explode behind his eyes as he moans against your lips and continues fucking you through his orgasm in strong thrusts for as long as he can. Thankfully you finish again just as he’s running out of steam. He rubs the spasming muscles of your thigh deeply as you writhe against him in your typical push-pull style—you don’t know what you want and it’s his job to hold you still and make you take it. After a moment you quiet down, stilling in his arms except for the continued expansion and contraction of your lungs. “Oh my god,” you breathe. “I can’t believe I did that. That’s so embarrassing.” Spencer chuckles breathily—kisses your forehead with his eyes still shut and slips a hand under your shirt to rub your back. 
“Why is it embarrassing? I liked it.”
“I have never—it’s never been so fast! It’s not supposed to be!”
“Why not?”
You huff.
“You’re the man. Men come too quickly. Not me.”
“I’m sorry you had to have two orgasms instead of one. Next time we’ll make sure you don’t come so we can even it out.”
You bury your face in his shoulder once more, immediately softening. 
“No! I take it back.”
“I thought you might.” His hand slides down your back, squeezing your ass affectionately. “Let's rally. We need to clean you up, angel.”
The pillow muffles your voice as you say, “I can’t. I’m asleep.”
“Can I record you saying that for playback in the morning when you ask me why I let you go to sleep with my come inside of you?”
“Spencer, I am seriously not moving. You woke me up. This is not a me problem.”
That makes him laugh, and he presses his lips to yours softly. After a long moment of his mouth moving slowly against yours, a needy little whine rushes from your nose, and it becomes evident he’s successfully kissed the attitude from you.
“You were so good, honey,” he murmurs against your lips. Another (shorter) kiss. “Did so well. I’m proud of you, baby.”
A second soft whimper from you as you chase his lips and he gives in once, briefly—knowing he can’t make you get up after this. How could he do that to such a sweet girl when she’s obviously completely exhausted? Jesus, you have him whipped. He recognizes that. And he made peace with it a long time ago. 
“Go back to sleep. I’ll clean you up.”
“Thank you,” you mumble, already slipping back into unconsciousness like you knew you’d get your way. Knowing your boyfriend, you probably did. “I love you.”
“I love you. Even though you’re a princess.”
You laugh. 
Ten-ish minutes later, once he’s done the best he can cleaning you up and is throwing the covers back over both of you, you startle him slightly by speaking. He thought you’d been asleep. 
“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” you sigh dreamily, snaking your arms around him once more. Spencer’s cheeks heat up at the memory of the praise he’d shamelessly lavished upon you not long ago. He’s glad you’re barely awake, because he’s too flustered to think of a response. 
He loves it when you do that. 
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givemequeen · 8 days
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me when I have one too many vodka sodas
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givemequeen · 18 days
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can i request some domestic Draco fluff about Draco and MC raising Scorpius, either after Astoria's death or with MC replacing Astoria as Scorpius's mom?? thank youUuu
posted!!
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givemequeen · 18 days
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raising Scorpius: Draco Malfoy x reader domestic fluff
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request: can i request some domestic Draco fluff about Draco and MC raising Scorpius, either after Astoria's death or with MC replacing Astoria as Scorpius's mom?? thank youUuu a/n: loved this request, hope this is what you wanted!! word count: 721
Arguably, the most coveted space in the Malfoy Manor was the sun parlor. In summer, it bathed occupants in the warmth of the sun's rays, while in winter, Draco's charms ensured one could relish the beauty of snow without enduring the biting cold. It had some of the most conformable sofas, which made you feel like you were lunging on clouds.
Any time of the day, it was the best room. In the morning, you could nestle into the plush sofa with a cup of morning tea, savouring the tranquil spectacle of the sunrise. In the afternoon, the room offered a front-row seat to observe the majestic peacocks leisurely wandering the grounds. And as evening descended, after a satisfying dinner, it provided the perfect setting to lose yourself in a good book while the sun dipped below the horizon in the distance.
Its panoramic views stretched out before you, showcasing the sprawling grounds in all their splendor. Adjacent to the sun parlour lay the small Quidditch pitch that Draco had set up a couple of years back, providing the perfect spot to watch your husband—often shirtless—as he soared through the air on his broom.
Setting your book aside, you turned to gaze at the pitch, a mischievous grin tugging at your lips as you hoped to catch a glimpse of your half-naked, sweaty husband in action.
But as your eyes scanned the scene, they widened in alarm. Instead of Draco, you saw your three-year-old son precariously perched on a broom, giggling in delight as he wobbled through the air. Fear gripped your heart, you pushed the glass door open and sprinted towards your son.
You looked around, trying to find Draco but he was nowhere to be seen.
"SCORPIUS, COME BACK HERE!" you screeched, your voice trembling with fear, but your frantic calls were carried away by the wind.
The wind whipped through your hair as you reached the edge of the pitch, your heart pounding in your chest. You waved your arms frantically, trying to catch your son's attention.
Scorpius, oblivious to your frantic calls, continued to giggle as he attempted to steer the broom, his tiny hands barely able to grasp the handle. Panic surged through you as he veered dangerously close to the ground, his laughter echoing in the air. Your hands flew to your mouth, convinced you were about to see your son crash against the floor.
Suddenly, Draco appeared, laughing heartily as he swooped in on his broom, scooping Scorpius up safely in his arms at the last minute. You could hear his roaring laughter, but you didn't find it amusing.
"Draco Lucius Malfoy!" you scolded, your voice tinged with anger and relief.
Your husband turned towards you, your use of his full name wiping the grin right off of his face. You could see as he muttered "fuck" under his breath, knowing he was caught.
Placing your hands on your hips, you waited for him to approach. As Draco neared you, his demeanor shifted, his expression a mixture of sheepishness and remorse at being caught. Beside him, Scorpius bounced with excitement, oblivious to the tension between his parents.
"This is not a game! You scared me half to death! Scorpius could have been hurt!" you yelled.
"I'm sorry, my love," he said, his voice soft. "We were just having a bit of fun. I'll make sure it doesn't happen again."
You scoffed, not willing to accept his apology, and turned to look over his shoulder.
He took a step closer, setting Scorpius on the ground beside him. His eyes pleaded for forgiveness as he reached out to gently touch your arm.
Draco's warm touch on your arm sent a soothing wave through you. You turned to face him and couldn't help the smile that spread through your face. Draco saw this as a way in and pulled you against his bare chest.
"Ugh, Draco! You're all sweaty." you complained half-heartedly, but made no attempt to back away.
"Mmhm." he murmured softly as he kissed your cheek. "I'm sorry, it won't happen again."
Scorpius, who had been watching the exchange with wide eyes, piped up with a mischievous grin. "Yes it will," he declared innocently, earning a chuckle from both you and Draco.
How could you stay mad at either of your boys? It was impossible.
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givemequeen · 1 month
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new chapter on my dramione fic
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