Sam comforts you during your pre menstrual syndrome situation and period! ( feat. fem! reader)
mentions: soft as ever Sam (he’s a honeypie!), slightly suggestive/intimate, super affectionate fluff, no mention of y/n, mention of preferences/cravings and menstruation taboo, use of pet names.
author’s note: hi! this is my first SPN post, hope you guys enjoy it <3
It all started with a whimper. Sam was asleep, or at least he thought he was. Between the dream realm and reality, he began hearing this sounds, at first, they were low, but then they were accompanied by ragged breathing, soft whines, and some hissing too.
He jumped up instantly, his hunter instinct kicking in. His eyes scanned the room to see if there was anything unusual, but there wasn’t, just the hum of the air conditioning blasting in full and then…you.
Somewhere between your sleep and without Sam knowing, you had taken off your top, leaving your chest fully exposed. There was something else too, you were frowning, and your breasts looked too pinkish to be normal, not to mention they seemed twice their size, swollen, and the way your chest rose and fell rapidly, like you were barely holding it together.
Sam tried very hard not to stare, but it was impossible not to because even in pain, you looked devastatingly beautiful. He yearned for you so much he could be clingy, but you didn’t mind, you enjoyed it enough to never complain.
By now, Sam already knew what was going on, his girlfriend was having a PMS situation, just like any other month of the year. It always happened around the same time, a week before your period kicked in, all the symptoms would bubble up inside you like a ticking bomb, manifesting in ways Sam found ridiculously cute and amusing.
He liked to get on your nerves and tease you a little about being a crybaby, but he enjoyed your surges of change a little too much. Like the time you asked for a piña colada in the middle of the night, the craving for chocolate, lemonade, and all the things he knew you couldn’t eat or drink during your period. How you begged him to go to the grocery store and get some, but Sam always shook his head and reassured you, telling you the cravings would pass once the week was over.
He cared too much, and you loved that about him. Coming from an environment where men frowned in disgust at the words “period” or “menstruation” and ran away from you like the plague, even among women the subject was a big taboo. Like when you tried talking to Jo and Ellen about it and they completely ignored you. Sam and Dean overheard everything, and at the time, you barely knew them, so it earned a few sympathetic looks from them.
But now? Huh, now Sam was a massive researcher. He knew what kind of pads you wore, the daily ones and the nocturnal ones. He knew that when you went shopping, you always chose the ones that said eighty percent cotton in them, and you explained to him one time you hated the ones with high plastic percentage or anything too synthetic because they were more uncomfortable. Sam also knew the difference between the wings and the function based on whether the pad was wide or narrow. And he also knew you hated tampons with your life and you pouted at them like they had inflicted you personal harm -which, in a way, they did.
So now, after going through all the belly swelling, the heating pads, the fever because you thought walking barefoot during your period was a good idea –and he scolded you for it– plus the fact that you couldn’t bake during your period because the cakes and cookies didn’t rise, and you kinda burned a pie or two –which never happened to you on a normal day– the citric fruits cut the flow of your period, the chocolate gave you headaches, and Sam hid the caffeine from you on those days because you said it heightened the smell of your blood –that was only perceived by you, by the way– and he was very careful not to interact with any women at all during hunts on those days, he kept to himself and let Dean do all the smooth talking because you went nuts over it.
You’d say to him on a random night, “I dreamt you were cheating on me, Winchester,” Pointing a small index finger at his chest. Sam, that knew you had a sixth sense for just knowing if anyone had flirted with him in your absence, just hugged you, a goofy smile on his face as he reassured you.
“I would never do that, baby. I’m yours and you’re mine. End of story… besides, you marked me so badly I’m basically ruined for anyone else,” he’d whisper in your ear, soothing your sides, tugging you into his chest like a wounded bird. You’d playfully smack his arm but happily nuzzle into him because he made you feel safe and seen, like nobody ever had before.
Now, lying beside you, stroking your hair, a hand tracing your factions trying to ease that deep frown of yours, Sam could only wonder what else he could do to help you. His desire was so strong that he was tempted to go to the kitchen and fetch a cold compress, but he knew you’d flinch at the feeling of the ice burning.
His concern had such effect on you, that, as if on cue, you opened your eyes, half-lidded, your gaze meeting his, and you sighed at his touch.
“What is it, baby? What can I do for you, sweetheart?” His voice was pleading. Sam leaned in to kiss your forehead, calloused hands softly rubbing your arms, and you whined again, hissing under your breath.
“Sammy…” Another hiss of pain that made you shut your eyes. Your hand grabbed one of his.
“It hurts… it hurts so much.” You looked at him through glossy eyes, your right hand going to one of your breast, cupping it.
“What do you need, baby?” Sam repeated, his lips brushing against your cheek, noticing how some tears started falling, God, did your sobs broke his heart. “Hey…hey, sweets, talk to me. Do you need me here?” He cooed you, scooping behind you and pushing your waist toward his hips. He completely ignored how his dick was straining against his pajama pants, pressing directly to your clothed pussy, now it was not the time for that.
Your hands grabbed his, slowly giding them up, until they were covering your breasts completely. The slight friction made you sob again.
“Here? You’re hurting here, baby?” He kissed behind your ear, and you nodded eagerly.
“Please, Sammy, just hold me… Unt-until it passes,” you managed to say, your voice barely a murmur, and Sam smiled, keeping his hands still, just cupping, being careful not to rub at all so you wouldn’t cry again.
“I’m here, baby.” He kissed down your neck, pressing lightly, and you sighed, feeling a little of the tension easing from your body.
“I’m here, okay?” Sam reassured you again. You melted, the tears on your face cooling, and even with your swollen belly, you felt you could manage better, all thanks to your massive heating pad.
You might feel utterly crushed and unmistakably ashamed in a few hours, but right now, you knew for sure that as long as Sam was with you, being yourself wouldn’t be something to feel bad about. Sam was everything you needed, and you were everything he’d ever hoped for.
As the night went on, you dozed off while Sam stayed awake, taking care of you –his baby, his little wounded bird– guarding your dreams and holding onto you tightly because there was no doubt: you’d always be his.
