Supernatural Preferences {Oneshots, Preferences, Imagines}

BSM: You get your period for the first time

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***

Age 12: You screamed. That's what you did. You, screamed. Because, really, what else were you supposed to do? There was blood gushing out of your body.

"Sam! Dean!" you wailed, tears already streaming down your cheeks. You hiked your pants back up after putting toilet paper in your panties, unlocked the bathroom door, and then tore down the hallway of the bunker.

"Y/N?" Sam asked frantically as he emerged from the library, Dean hot on his heels.

"I'm bleeding," you whimpered, gripping your youngest brother's hand tightly. You blinked rapidly to try and clear your damp vision, but to no avail.

Sam shot Dean a look. "Where?" Dean asked.

You cleared your throat awkwardly before pointing between your legs. Sam and Dean stopped frowning and instead a wide range of emotions flickered across their faces; relief, slight disgust, fear and sadness.

"Don't worry. It's quite common," Sam informed you as Dean hurried back down the hall to the bathroom. When he re-emerged, he was carrying a bright pink pack of something.

"W-what's wrong with me?" you whispered as you accepted the package from Dean.

Dean tapped the box in your hand lightly. "You're on your period. Means that now you can get pregnant. But don't. I cant handle kids."

"Right," Sam said, dragging out the 'i' sound while staring at Dean. "You just wear these and change them regularly. In about a week or so, it'll be over. You might be a bit emotional in that time and maybe eat more than you usually do, but that's completely normal. If you have any questions you can ask Dean and I, okay?" Before you could even nod, Dean was in defensive mode.

"I haven't researched it or anything. Sammy did all that. I would n-never do that," he spluttered hopelessly as his eyes flickered around the room.

You clutched the pads close to your chest. "You keep telling yourself that," you grumbled before locking yourself into the bathroom.

When you joined Dean and Sam in the living room, you were in your PJ's and there was an intense look of pain scrunching up your face.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked from the couch, and patted the spot next to him. You fell onto the cushions and then leaned to the right to rest against Dean.

"My stomach hurts like hell," you groaned, feebly clutching at your shirt to try and, I dunno, maybe rip out your uterus.

"Cramps," Dean was quick to establish, and both you and Sam turned to him with a raised eyebrow, Sam with a teasing smirk playing on his lips.

Dean sighed loudly and rolled his eyes. "So maybe I did google it," he admitted before throwing an arm around your shoulder and letting you use his pillow as a chest.

"I'll get the heating pad," Sam announced as Dean started rubbing gentle circles into your abdomen. You let your eyelids flutter closed, and when the heating pad was safely secured under your shirt, you fell into a dreamless sleep.

(And if you woke up with a pool of blood on your sheets, well, only Sammy would know. He had washing duty)