This Is My Super Bowl.

This is my super bowl.

MY KINDA LOVEEEEEEE

I hate using shopping money for things I actually need <\3

Warmth

Summary: Spencer can only tell you he’s cold, but what he really wants is more than just a cuddle.

Summary: MDNI, use of pet names, cockwarming, mostly fluff with that added, Spencer being shy/nervous, (I don’t believe there are specific pronouns for reader - just a mention of “entrance”)

You don't know how you're aware of what Spencer is trying to figure out to ask, but you know he's going to have trouble asking. It had taken literal years for him to be comfortable initiating sex on his own and while he was good at initiating the softer side - the cuddling, nuzzling, being close side - he was not good at suggesting new things or anything he is afraid you won't take well. Which frankly, was a shame. With the amount he reads, there are definitely things you know he'd like to try that you've never even heard of, but that was something to discuss another day.

It had been an incredibly difficult case for the BAU team and he'd just returned home last night. Hotch had guaranteed the weekend off and all you wanted was to spend time with that shy, nerdy boy who was currently chewing on his bottom lip and pretending to read while shooting glances at you. You knew he just wanted to be close to you. That he needed the reassurance that you were there and not going anywhere. Spencer, for all his anti-hand shaking, loved being as close as physically possible. He gravitated towards you in sleep, wrapping himself around you - all gangly limbs and warmth. Last night though, when he'd come to bed, he had muttered that it wasn’t enough before finally falling asleep. You could feel him look at you again, and figured you should at least try to help him.

"Spencer, honey, do you want to tell me what you're thinking about? You know you can ask me anything and if it's physically possible, I'll give it to you."

You saw his adorable cheeks redden immediately. He knew he had been caught, as he tried to respond to you. "I - I was just thinking about the book, that's all. Everything is fine"

"I didn't say it wasn't fine, hun. And while I know you read fast, your eyes aren't moving over the pages. It's okay, Spencer, it's just us." You whispered to him, moving from the couch to sit on his lap in his favourite armchair.

Slowly, you took the decoy textbook from his hands and closed it, placing it on the side table. Your hands cup his face before you place a light kiss on his lips. As soon as you had moved, Spencer had opened his arms, ready to hold you close to him. Once the book was gone, he'd wrapped his arms around you fully, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

“I’m just…cold" is what you think he says. He's said it so quietly, his face still in your neck, that you aren't entirely sure that's all he said.

Gently, you move back so you can see his face. “You wanna go back to the bed, baby? We can lay down and snuggle til you’re all warmed up".

He nodded eagerly. While dogs didn't particularly like Spencer, he reminded you of a giant golden retriever when he was in this kind of mood. Spencer wasn't the most athletic but he didn't hesitate to pick you up as he stood, striding to the bedroom. He gently sets you on your feet right next to the bed, making sure to place you on the rug and not the cold floor before he leans down and kisses you. It's a sweet kiss, innocent and caring. He turns and walks to your joint closet, coming back with one of his giant t-shirts. You hold your arms up for him, letting him pull off your top and place his shirt on you. He then kneels down, tugging your sweatpants off, leaving you in just your panties and his shirt. He uses his body to guide you back to the bed, kissing you again as you move to lay down. By the time you're under the covers, Spencer is stripping himself, leaving just the boxers with hearts you had gotten for him one Christmas on. He moves to the other side and immediately pulls you closer to him. You're facing him, his head on top of yours, and you giggle lightly, leaning back slightly,

“You said you’re cold but we stripped down out of everything warm”.

He laughs lightly, “Actually, you warm up faster if you have direct skin to skin contact”. His eyes light up like they always do when he can share his wealth of knowledge. His job challenges him, makes him think in different ways. But the team doesn’t appreciate his random info dumps, the way he can talk about facts or statistics or really anything. But you do - you told him once you’d listen to his voice forever if he wanted you to, no matter the subject. He thinks it might have been the moment he realized he loved you.

But Spencer doesn’t want to talk right now. He wants to be closer to you, to feel your warmth surround him, for the sunlight you radiate with to engulf him completely. And while this position is definitely helping, much better than out in the living room, it’s not enough. He needs more.

He doesn’t realize that his sigh wasn’t done internally. He knows what he wants to ask you, he knows you’re going to agree, but there’s that tiny part of him that’s terrified you’re going to laugh at him, going to call him a freak or be disgusted by him. You’ve never done anything of the sort, he knows the fear is unfounded, but it’s still there and he’s never been good at dealing with his emotions.

“What is it, honey?” You ask, voice already getting sleepy, eyes drooping some.

Spencer whines some, you’re so dang adorable and he’s so lucky, lucky you’re even granting him permission to hold you close. He manages to get his voice in order, but his unspoken plea bleeds through in his tone,

“Just not warm enough, need more”.

You’re silent for a moment. Apparently he’s not going to find the words himself, but you’re happy to help him out. After all, you had been with him when the idea was shown in a movie you two were watching. You had seen his interest pique, had noted his expression. You move just far enough back to see his face,

“Well, what’s the warmest part of me, handsome? Cause I can think of something that might help”, your smile is as soft as your tone, your hand trailing down his stomach.

He hides his face in you, breath catching. He hopes you mean what he’s been thinking but what if… your voice calms the last of his fears.

“Why don’t you fill me up, Spencer? Let me keep your pretty cock nice and warm - Would that help?”

“Yes, please. Please, yes” he whimpers to you. He often wonders if you’re actually the profiler, with how often you read his thoughts, know what he needs before he ever asks. He feels you pull him from those ridiculous boxers he only wears because you got them for him, feels you stroke him until he’s half hard. There’s no lust in your touch, no sexual charge. This is intimacy and he craves it.

You spit in your hand, dragging it down his length and over yourself before you position the head of his cock at your entrance. You encourage him to sink into you, maneuvering your leg to rest over his hip. When he sinks all the way in, he lets out a content sigh.

Spencer pulls back, kisses you lightly. For the first time since he got home, he looks content. You cup his face, kissing him once more.

“I’ll keep you warm whenever you want, okay baby? Love feeling you keep me full” you whisper to him. He smiles bashfully, brings you closer to him again, holding you tightly and whispers an “I love you”. You two fall asleep like that, not an inch of space left between you, happy and finally warm.