SupernaturalxReader

Aunt Flo (Dean fluff)

(first off, I'm sorry this one isn't super sex inclusive, as it only applies to uterus owners, but let me know what you think!)

-

Oh, shit. Oh shit, shit, shit. Not right now. Not today. Is this really happening to me right now? Really? As soon as I fucking wake up? You thought, exasperated and exhausted. Unbelievable.

"Uh, you okay there babe? What's 'really happening right now,' exactly?" Dean's concerned voice came from behind you as you lay in the motel bed spooning together, Sam out cold somewhere across the room. You winced, knowing you had just dug your own grave nice and deep by forgetting he was there and simultaneously forgetting to keep your thoughts to yourself.

"Well, uh, about that, Dean..." his arms squeezed around your waist a little tighter as he tried to turn you to look at him, and you let out a nervous and high pitched laugh at his actions.

"Might not want to do that right now, bud." you reached to remove his hands from your hips, doing your best to scoot away from him. You felt the bed shift as he propped himself up on one elbow to finally reach a better look at you over your shoulder.

"What's happening, (y/n)? Tell me, right now. Is something wrong?" you mentally say, fuck yeah, there is, I wake up to the strong feeling that there's blood all over my shorts, my innocent boyfriend, and the freaking sheets. But this time you're careful not to voice your words aloud.

It's not that you think Dean will get squeamish - he's seen more blood than anyone should have, so that's not the problem. And the sheets and clothes can all be easily washed; this isn't your first rodeo, after all. And normally you wouldn't be too nervous about having a naturally functioning body, but in this case... Well, as much as you loved your boyfriend, he wasn't exactly well known for being the most conscious guy out there when it came to touchy subjects. And you weren't one for having your period brought to your attention every time you had any emotion - because as soon as your stereotypical dude knows it's your time of the month, everything you do, say, and want to eat is a result of 'crazy hormones' and, basically, your life for the next week is invalid.

You liked to think you knew Dean pretty damn well by now, but this situation was one you never really wanted to risk going downhill. In the past, you would just pretend it wasn't happening once a month, buying your products on solo trips and opting out of sex as stealthily as possible. But there was no avoiding it now.

"Dean, babe, you're gonna want to change your pants, most likely. Especially if that desire to get so close to me by the hips kept up through the night. I, uh... well, you're no newbie to bloodstains, right?" you close your eyes, not wanting to witness this moment. Please, oh please, don't make a big deal, don't make a big deal, don't make a big-

"You're bleeding? Fucking hell, (y/n), how? What? Are you hurti-" he spirals into alarm, talking fast and loud, and you instantly turn around and cover his mouth, desperately hoping Sam was still in dreamland, specifically for what you were about to say.

"My period came, Dean!" you uncover his mouth slowly as his eyes widen quickly.

".. Oh. Oh. Oh. Yeah, yeah, no, that's uh. I'm, uh, sorry. I - I'm going to get out of bed now. Do you uh, uh-" you purse your lips, eyes shutting tight as you listen to him fumble awkwardly, clearly not knowing how to react.

"I'll wash, you change and give me whatever I stained. I can strip the sheets and head to the Laundromat, there should be extra bedding in the closet if you could take care of re-making the bed while I'm out. And, uh, if you could keep it quiet please - Sam doesn't need to know," you slipped in the mention about keeping it private, praying he would take a hint and realize you meant it beyond simply not waking his brother up.

"Yeah, yeah, sounds uh, sounds good. I'll do that. You do that," you both started to move now, sliding out of the bed awkwardly. You waited for him to remove his pants - which only had little blotches of red, thank god - paused to linger for just a moment, and then scurried off to the bathroom, knowing you must have looked oh-so-hot with your own stains. From there, you two each took care of business. Normal mornings included sliding fluidly past each other like a well oiled machine, as it was inevitable in the relatively small hotel rooms to cross paths, but today consisted only of tiny bits of eye contact quickly broken only to trip over each other and each over your own feet.

Keys in hand, you stole a quick glance to check Sam was still sleeping, and stopped to give Dean a peck on the lips. After muttering a quick sorry and accepting his choppy 'it's okay' statement, you were on your way, a full duffel bag in hand.

Flustered. Huh. Not the reaction I was expecting. On the ride there and back you continuously contemplated Dean's response, unsure exactly what to make of it. You had to guess this was the first time he's ever had to deal with being in a relationship with someone on their period, so it sort of made sense for a first stab at it. But would he continue like this all week around you, awkward and uncomfortable? You dearly hoped not. You had cases to work and shit to be sorted out, and certainly no time for this kind of mess. So you made a decision - if Dean was still stumbling and stuttering and Sam was yet to be woken up when you returned, you'd serve it to him straight up and tell him to stop freaking out.

Carefully parking Baby, you dragged yourself out of the car, trailing the full bag of now clean laundry with you. This just wasn't your day. You started to grow more and more concerned that Dean had said something to Sam as you approached the room, walking along the sidewalk, passing door after door, but wishing to be anywhere else. And as you arrived at your room - you heard it.

Sam was laughing, and Dean was shushing him. Oh fuck no.

"Dude, dude, cmon, stop laughing! It isn't funny! I don't know what to do!" Sam laughed even harder as his older brother pleaded with him, and your face flushed, knowing what they were talking about. More precisely, who they were talking about.

"Incredible. Dean, you kill monsters for a living, but when your one true love-" he refers to you in an overly sweet tone, and then there's a muffled sound of a smack "-fine, fine! When your date gets a period, you have to wake me up to beg for help? Just incredible. Priceless!" he's still chuckling, and part of you can't help but want to join in. Dean asking for help. Kinda hilarious, given the situation.

"Shut up. Just tell me what I'm supposed to do," he uses the most demanding voice he can muster, you can tell, but it still sounds boyish and little.

"You're ridiculous. Just be your usual self! And buy chocolate. And be accommodating, they're bound to be in pain with cramps and shit. But don't act like they're dying, they aren't. This happened every month that you two have been seeing each other for, you know. There's no need to be putting anyone on bedrest here or anything, just be considerate. Alright, I lied, don't be your usual self at all. Do all that instead," you could almost picture Dean taking mental notes as Sam gave his rather nice proper period etiquette speech.

"There. Was that so hard, Sammy?" you heard your boyfriend's footsteps as he presumably stomped away from Sam, trying to act tough still.

"Apparently it was for you," you can barely make out Sam's off-handed remark, but you have to laugh at it. Part of you feels bad for eavesdropping on your man's weak moment, but another part of you is feeling nothing but victorious because you don't have to give him the instructional guide yourself anymore. And now you know that Sam's in your corner if you need him.

Now seemed like an appropriate moment to come in, so you pushed open the creaking door smiling wide. Quickly remembering you weren't meant to have heard that, you drop the grin and give a weak one, pretending it's taking a big effort to do even that. Sam was sitting up in bed, and he smirked a little before laying back down and rolling over to remove himself. Dean stood over the tiny round kitchen table, both hands planted on it and leaning forward. He lifted his head up to you and gave you the same smile you had put on - but you were pretty sure his was sincere.

"Hi, (y/n). Do you uh, I mean, uh - chocolate, anyone?"

sorry, it's been a hot minute since I've been here, hasn't it? just hadn't been in the mood to write for a couple days, sadly. but now I'm thinking of writing a part two to this, and if that happens, it should be coming soon, so stay tuned!