Criminal Minds Imagines

blood stains - spencer reid

Nope.

This was not happening.

You were dreaming, the red stain on the crisp white sheets of your boyfriend's bed was a figment of your mind's horrific imagination.

You reached down and dabbed at the stain, red residue rubbing off onto the tips of your fingers. It was real alright.

You scrunched your face up, screaming internally while you tried to figure out what to do. First things first, you would have to run to the living room to get a pad out of your purse. Without waking Spencer up.

You had only been dating for about three months. Of course, Spencer knew you had a period, but this was territory you hoped to not have to cross until the six month mark at the earliest. Things were still new and the honeymoon phase was in full swing. It wasn't exactly "I'm ready for you to see all my bodily functions" time in the relationship yet.

You knew in the back of your mind that he would have to see it. It wasn't like you could rip the sheets off without him knowing, seeing as he was dead asleep right next to you. Whether you wanted to or not, you were going to have to face this conversation.

You slipped out of the covers, the bed mercifully not squeaking as you stood. You made it to your purse without a sound, mentally high-fiving yourself. You were in the clear, for now.

"Y/N? Y/N!" Spencer's panicked voice jerked your spine straight. "Y/N, oh my god. No, no, no-"

He slid into the room, literally slid with his socks on the hardwood, his face looking downright petrified until he saw you standing in the moonlit living room.

"Hey, Spence," you squeaked. "Sorry, did I wake you?"

He was breathing hard as he brought a large hand up to rub at his chest. "I-uh, I rolled over and you weren't there. I opened my eyes and saw blood and I—what happened? Are you hurt?"

Your eyes widened as he rushed towards you, hands on your hips as he checked you over for injuries. It hadn't occurred to you that the bed looked like a murder scene—much like the ones that you and your boyfriend encountered on a weekly basis.

"Shit, Spencer, I'm so sorry," you groaned. "I'm fine, I just got my...period."

You winced, and his face turned from one of complete alarm to one of sympathy.

"Sweetheart, why didn't you wake me?" He rubbed a hand over the small of your back soothingly, bringing the other one to smooth your hair.

"I was embarrassed," you whined. "This thing between us is new and fun and I didn't want to gross you out right out of the gate like this."

Spencer laughed and you frowned.

"No, I'm not laughing at you," he reassured you, his hands running up and down your arms. "I just think it's silly that you thought I would be grossed out by something normal and healthy when we see mutilated bodies on a near daily basis."

When you thought about it like that, you couldn't help but laugh too.

"Listen," he was suddenly serious, holding your chin with his thumb and forefinger. "I know things are technically new between us. But remember what I told you that night I finally confessed that I'm hopelessly in love with you?"

You grinned, biting your lip. You remembered a lot of things about that night. The way you and Spencer had spent two years pining after one another until it finally came to a head in a cozy inn in Alaska on the last night of a case. How you danced in the snow and made bold confessions before warming up in the sweetest way in your room, trying not to wake Emily up next door.