Word count: 1300
Notes: warnings for menstruation kink. written for this prompt over at the spn_masquerade.
Summary: Jared knows how to make Jensen feel better.
Chocolate. Pringles. Trying not to cry over some sappy rom-com starring Colin Firth and failing miserably. Stereotype piled on top of stereotype and Jensen doesn't like any of it, not the zits that break out all over her face or the way her insides seem to be on the brink of staging some sorta revolution.
She has a heating pad on her stomach, knees drawn up close to her chest and she's thinking she lost the last bite of her Snickers bar somewhere in the bed. Pillows surround her, blankets shoved up to her chin and she hasn't washed her hair in three days. Make that four.
Downstairs, her roommate is knocking around the kitchen. Best roommate Jensen's ever had, and she keeps waiting for the honeymoon period to wear thin. Jared's considerate and tidy, pays his half of everything on time and is sure to replace the mayo or the orange juice when he uses the last of it.
He's also gorgeous. The top of Jensen's head barely reaches his shoulder and he's built like a dream come true, has soft eyes and a smile brighter than sunshine. He's heavy on a good sense of humor and light on ego and always calls her Jensen. Not Jen. Never Jenny.
Sometimes, when they go out to supper together or stand in the peanut butter aisle at the grocery store debating the relative merits of creamy or chunky, Jensen wonders what they look like to strangers. If the day-dreamy stare they get from the harried mother of two means what Jensen thinks it means. Other times, she'll catch their reflections in a plate glass window, see the way she fits under the arm Jared casually slings over her shoulders as they walk down the street, and wonders what she actually wants it to mean.
Not that it matters. They aren't like that.
Quiet footsteps start up the stairs, and Jared scratches at her cracked door, sneaks a hand through it, a steaming mug of tea like an unnecessary white flag.
"C'mon in," Jensen says, and a fresh wave of cramps twists in her belly, teeth-grittingly sharp. Even her back hurts.
"You okay?" Jared asks. He's fresh from a run, loose shorts hanging from his skinny hips and sweat staining his t-shirt. The one that has the sleeves cut off and the UT logo on the front. He takes in her nest of blankets and pillows, the empty bag of chips and the bottle of painkillers on her bedside table and hands her the mug. Chamomile and honey, a little white in it, exactly the way she likes it.
"Fucking great, thanks," Jensen says, harsher than she intended, then follows it up with a quick, "Sorry. Sorry."
"That bad, huh?" His shoulders are hunched, as if he wants to make himself smaller, less obtrusive.
"It'll pass," Jensen says with a shrug. "It's just…"
"I get it," Jared says. "I've lived with women before." He manages to make it not sound condescending, no trace of a joke in there. He dips his chin toward his chest, peeks at Jensen from under the shaggy fringe of his bangs. "Do you want me to…" His cheeks are pinking up and he curls his tongue around his adorably crooked canine. "I could help. I heard that…"
The pink on his cheekbones is deepening to a definite red and Jensen cottons on to what he's saying. A low heat starts to compete with the pain.
Jared takes a shuffling step backward, shakes his head. "Forget it. It's weird."
Flinging a hand out to him, Jensen says, "No. It's not weird. Okay, maybe it's a little weird, but it's not too weird."
"Okay. So. Um." Jared slides into the bed behind Jensen, frames her hips with his thighs and eases her backward, hugging her against his chest. He's incredibly warm and smells fantastic, that undercurrent of sweat beneath his soap.
It's awkward, stilted at first as Jared keeps one arm around her shoulders, his other hand making small circles low on her stomach beneath the blanket. Her shirt has ridden up in the back and Jared's shorts are soft and silky on her skin, the warmth of him melting some of the ache away.
His hand is creeping lower, toying with the waistband of her boyshorts, and everything about it is gentle and cautious. He's taking so much care.
Warm breath tickles Jensen's ear as Jared speaks, voice a low rumble. "Are you using a tampon? What am I gonna find down there?"
"No. A pad," Jensen answers, and is plainly shocked that she's not embarrassed about it. "Here." She shimmies out of her underwear, kicks at them until they're lost in the blankets. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Never minded a little bit of blood." They're alone in the house, no reason to whisper, but Jared's doing it anyway. His fingers wander further down, cup her for a moment then tease at her slit, one fingertip dipping between her outer lips. "So wet," he mutters. "Is it just the blood?"
"Not all of it," Jensen says, and pushes her legs further apart, gives his long, so fucking long fingers more room. He slips one inside, fucks it in, pulls out and adds a second, keeps the heel of his hand pressed to her clit the whole time, the pressure perfect and agonizingly good.
Jensen squirms, lets loose a few tiny whines that she'll never admit to later, and reaches back to tangle her hand in his hair, yank him down until his mouth crashes into the side of her neck, smearing down to her shoulder, all loose lipped kisses and hot, hissing breaths.
Beneath her, Jared's hips are rolling, the weight of his hard cock smashed along her spine, damp and straining. She tries to get a hand behind herself, maybe try and pay him back a little for the shocks of bright pleasure he's shooting through her body. The angle is for shit and she's selfish enough that she doesn't want to lose the solid heat of his chest on her back.
"Want you," Jensen says, fragmented and more than a little lost, and wriggles her ass against his cock, hopes that he gets the message. Her legs are tangled in the blankets and she kicks them down. The sheets are cashed and her thighs are wetly red, more of it has crept up the inside of Jared's wrist and it's somehow not disgusting at all. It's fucking hot.
"Jesus, Jensen," Jared spits, gives her clit another quick rub and then he's pulling his fingers free, leaving bloody, trailing handprints on her lower stomach as he hoists her up, shoves at his shorts and enters her in one steady slide.
Jensen tips her head back, sinks into the way Jared surrounds her, inside and out, the slow way he fucks into her, reaches around and rubs two fingers along her clit, works it in between them and drags her orgasm out of her. He groans as she clenches down on his cock, fucks her deeper through a fresh wave of blood and slick.
"I'm gonna…" Jared groans, one arm wrapping around her middle as if he's going to pull her off of him and Jensen bares down hard, grips his forearm and gives his hair a sharp tug.
"Stay in," she says, feeling it at his cock gets even bigger inside of her and Jared goes rigid, sinks in as deep as he can go.
"Feel better?" Jared asks, a low purr in her ear.
"Fuck," Jensen groans. "Yeah. Yes."
Dropping another kiss on her shoulder, Jared says, "Get up. I'll start a bath for you."
"How about you?" Her legs are wobbly and the blood and come on her thighs is starting to go cold and sticky.
"Don't worry about me. I'm gonna change the sheets."
Thanks for reading!