Work Text:
The phone was ringing. Again. It made your eye twitch. It stopped ringing and then started again not even a second later. Along with the eye twitch, your hands were balled into fists and lovely fantasies of murder drifted through your head. When it rang again, you snatched it up and glared at the screen display.
It was Dean.
You tried to take a deep breath to calm your anger. Then winced as another wracking wave of pain made itself know in your abdomen. The pain obliterated your short lived calmness and you answered the phone with a snarled, “What?!”
“Whoa, easy Thumbelina. Just wanted to let you the ghost hunt went okay. We’re on our way home.”
Your reply of, “Fantastic,” dripped sarcasm thicker than cake batter.
There was a pause on the other end of the line before Dean asked, “You okay? You sound…hostile.”
Hormones can do crazy things, especially to you during your time of the month. Hormones made you crave peanut butter on your pizza, jalapeño peppers dipped in honey and eaten whole, and cookie dough. And of course you craved chocolate. Hormones also made you cry at the slightest provocation. Castiel could attest to that. He had visited the evening before to check on you in the Winchester’s absence. You had been sitting on the kitchen floor sobbing because you had burned dinner. Not your best moment and the angel had been baffled.
Those pesky little hormones were responsible for the venom filled tirade that spilled from your mouth in the next moment.
“You know what? I am sick of your shit Dean Winchester. I spent hours in that dusty library to find the information you needed to nail that ghost and di I get a thank you? Fuck no I did fucking not! Am I okay? Is that some kind of joke? Knives are ripping my uterus apart and you want to know if I’m okay? You’re a god damn, sarcastic, un-dead, piece of-”
The line went dead and you seethed.
XXX
Sam watched Dean from where he was perched on the hood of the Impala. A slight cut on his elbow stung but he ignored it. That little cut was the only injury from this ghost hunt so he counted it as a plus. They had pulled over so Dean could call Y/N and let her know how the hunt went. Sam would have but his phone was dead. Literally dead. Like smashed into a million pieces dead.
Dean dialed a couple of times before Y/N answered. At first Dean looked confused, maybe worried but then he grew pale. Sam made to get up, alarmed. Was Y/N okay but Dean waved him down though the older Winchester lost even more color. Finally he snapped his phone shut with a shake of his head and Sam could hear him say,
“Nooooo, uh uh, nope.”
It wasn’t until they were on the road with Sam in the passenger seat that Dean finally explained, “Your girlfriend is PMS-ing big time.”
Sam grinned, “Awesome.” He didn’t even feel guilty for stealing his brother’s favorite word.
Said brother cut him a look, “How is that awesome? She sounded like she wanted to rip my face off.”
“Yeah. Her cramps are usually really bad and her hormones are terrifying but it’s still great.”
“Why?!”
Sam sent a look to his brother, “Those hormones that make her easy to piss off, also make her…more indulgent.”
“You mean horny.” Dean exclaimed. “Oh my god, I bet you two have crazy, kinky sex when she’s on her period.”
Sam shrugged, not denying, “Orgasms help with the pain.” Sam felt like laughing at the look on Dean’s face; like he wanted to know more but didn’t want to get involved in Sam’s sex life. He looked so torn.
The rest of the trip passed in silence while Sam lost himself to fantasy. Maybe he could get her to wear the outfit…
XXX
You were livid. You were in pain. Then the door to the bunker opened and shut. The anger faded, consumed by a tidal wave of horniness and lust. She was wearing Sam’s favorite Catholic school girl outfit, anticipating the activities ahead. But first, he was in trouble for making you wait so long…