Spencer Reid | Oneshots

Stork Song ❤️‍🔥 (E)

Summary: Spencer and Reader try to find intimacy again following a terrible loss.

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)

Content Warning: Angst with a very happy ending, miscarriage, trouble conceiving, potentialinfertility, crying, yelling (brief), grief, fingering, penetrative sex,unprotected sex, vague references to divorce (does not happen)

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When you want something so badly, you start to see it everywhere. The unattainable seems almost inevitable; the cruel mistress of fate tugs at your heartstrings and makes you hope for what may never come.

It'd been two weeks since my pregnancy tests started showing one line again. The initial pain of the distinct lack of pink, however, was nothing compared to the suffering that followed. The absolutely agony that was canceling my doctor appointment, the devastation of having to inform my husband that it'd happened for the third time.

Spencer had never been anything but supportive and hopeful. I'd eventually had the heart, or perhaps experienced enough exhaustion, to explain that his constant optimism when it came to this particular topic was anything but helpful. But as I sat on the couch with a foot of space between us, I realized that I'd missed it. The silence had not been the alternative that I'd dreamed it to be.

My husband accepted my embrace the second it was even suggested. His arms wrapped around me hastily, and before I knew it, I had fallen back to what we used to be. Pretty peach lips were softer than I'd remembered, but still just as sweet. I allowed myself to get lost in them — if just for a moment. To soak in the intoxicating scent of him without worry for what impact such indulgence might have on the future.

It was irresponsible. Foolishly idyllic, but not at all regrettable.

But when his lips finally slipped away, Spencer kept his eyes closed. I listened to heavy breathing that almost felt unfamiliar when it was not tainted with tears.

"I want you," he whispered in the most saturnine way.

I wished I'd had a better response. I wished I could have shared his obvious desire and longing. I wished that I wanted to connect with him as badly as he clearly craved. But among the oceans of apathy and shame, the only thing I could think to say were two questions.

"What? Why?"

Spencer's fingers tangled in the hair at the base of my neck, and he pulled me forward like the questions had caused him physical pain. Pressing our foreheads together like it might transfer something beyond words, he only managed to say a few before his voice started to give out.

"Because you're my wife," he paused before taking in a deep breath and continuing with much more force than before, "and I love you."

"But Spencer..."

He knew it was coming. I could feel the disappointment of rejection already starting to wash over him. He was already almost completely gone, his body turned away from me again as he dropped his head into his hands.

"There's no reason for us to do that today," I finished, nonetheless.

"Bullshit!"

I jumped at the sound, the force behind the words frightening me with their vitriol and sheer volume. Almost immediately, Spencer withered back. His body still shook from the aftershocks, but his tone was more appropriate, if not more solemn, as he explained, "I just gave you the only reason that matters."

When the curse finally caught up to me, though, there was no taking it back. Slowly, my body broke down in the same ways his had until we were both weeping, together but alone on the first piece of furniture we'd bought together.