𝗲𝗽𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗹 [bsd x reader oneshots]

SIGMA | PERIOD COMFORT

[CONTENT]

This oneshot contains mensuration cycles, cramping, blood, clothes stains, along with a female reader. This is oneshot has not been beta-read. Beware grammar errors.

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"Mmm, what time is it?" you yawned, stretching your limbs to greet the day with a hazy expression. You had woken up later than usual, something you would have to thank Sigma for allowing, though he seemed to be already working. That wasn't surprising—the man was a workaholic; rerouting his routine would take something colossal.

You caressed the soft fabric underneath your body, internally praising your absent lover for purchasing 1,000-thread count sheets, before pausing once you felt something wet brush the side of your hand. It took a moment to register the sensation, your mind immediately attempting to rationalize it, coming to a terrible conclusion. You lifted the covers and peered down in dread.

You had started your period.

With a groan, you dragged yourself from the warm shelter of the blankets, wincing at the sharp pain that accompanied your footfalls on the carpeted floor. It took an obnoxious amount of energy to haul yourself to the closet, rummaging through items that were supposed to be sorted days ago to find another sheet. It had been lucky that the blankets weren't affected by the blood, but the hassle of changing the sheets didn't put you in the most thankful of moods.

Then, you waddled into the bathroom despite the temptation to crawl back to bed and just be. You cringed as you stared into the mirror, pulling at the tresses of greasy hair and prodding at the discoloration of baggy eyes—your body becoming a live caricature of your pain.

Everything sucked.

The only relief had been the spring of warm water that trailed down your tired limbs, encompassing your body in a complementary mist that cleared your throat and relaxed your muscles. Without self-control, you would've remained inside that shower for the rest of the day, wasting the casino's finite water supply. Its sanctuary allowed a moment's reprieve to feel like yourself again.

That first step onto the cool tile floor created the worst shock, an enormous cramp striking your abdomen. You were forced to brace yourself against the counter, counting each breath. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8. One after the other until the cramp ceased its torment. You knew then that you weren't doing anything productive today. Even if you wanted to, your mind was so clouded with pain that the memory of any obligations was cleared entirely from it.

You bundled the stained sheet and clothes underneath your arm, hoisting them inside your washer and watching as they spun around repeatedly— until you were interrupted by another cramp. With a grimace, you lumbered over to an ottoman in the bedroom, shuffling around until your hands reached something soft—a microwavable plushie made for this specific occasion. You watched it with anticipation as it circled inside the microwave before snatching it out, cooing at the warm sensation against your palms.

You succumbed to the enticement of the living room's plush sofa, the will to walk to your bedroom sucked out of you as your knees met the couch cushions. Soon, the heat of the plushie and the support of a throw blanket created a cocoon of comfort, beguiling you into a state of unaching slumber.

In another room, Sigma had perched himself onto a chair, tapping his heeled shoes with the beat of the seconds as he moped across from an empty chair. You had both planned to eat lunch together, which was a rare allayment from the tumultuous duties of his day. However, you hadn't shown up despite the enthusiasm you had presented the day earlier. His brow furrowed as he stared at the door, shifting his gaze to the clock above it.

You were already twenty minutes late.

He waved to a nearby staff member, pointing towards the cold food. "Package these meals and have them sent to my suite," he said.

"Yes, sir."

The only sound he could hear was the fall of his feet thumping onto intricately carpeted floors, the noise echoing into the deepest depths of the hallway as he strode across the building to reach your shared suite. He couldn't help but be curious, and a bit despondently confused, about your absence for the scheduled lunch date. So, without a knock, he entered the suite, scanning the jointed living room and kitchen for your face.

He froze as he was about to walk into the bedroom, his ears picking up a series of pained groans mumbled from the couch. His footsteps softened, creeping like a curious cat to gander at the lumped form on the sofa. And that was where he found you, crumpled into a fetal position with the blanket pulled taut around you, face shriveled in pain. He leaned over, gently brushing the sweat-slicked baby hairs away from your face, humming as he analyzed your unconscious demeanor. He didn't think you were sick, especially since you seemed okay when you went to bed. With that thought, his gaze traveled lower, and that was when he realized the root issue.

So, with a newfound conviction and determination, he knelt on the floor, tightening the blanket around your shoulders. You stirred at the foreign sensation, cracking your eyes to find the blurred image of your lover.

"Si-igma?"

"Shh, it's okay, love," he cooed, stroking your cheek with his thumb before leaning forward and placing a soft kiss against your forehead. It crinkled with your furrowed brow, and your expression shifted into a confused pout that he found incredibly endearing as you scanned his face for something. A reminder resurfaced in your brain, causing you to shoot up from your horizontal position and toss the blanket off.

"Shit! I'm so sorry! I completely forgot—"

"No, no," he interrupted, bracing his hands onto your shoulders to lay you back down. "It's okay. How are you feeling?"

You stared at him for a moment, then grimaced. "Like shit."

— Sigma will become extremely accommodating to you—not that he wasn't already—and turn his behavior to the umpth-degree. He will ensure that you have access to pain medication before anything else, but he will equally provide for anything you need or want. Water? Absolutely. You need your fluids. Food? No problem. He'll have the casino staff whip up anything you want.

— Speaking of the casino, this is a rare occasion where he takes personal time off of work—because as much as he doesn't like being away for too long, he hates the idea of you being alone and in pain more. This is your prime time to spend quality time together, so take it!

— You will receive some of the best cuddles in this state, with his hands either near your abdomen or back to massage the muscles and relieve your aches. This is one of the few times he isn't that flustered by affectionate gestures; he is too focused on your comfort.

— At the beginning of your relationship, he will not have the slightest idea about relieving your pains or any details about the biological process. So, it is up to you to explain the cycle to him, to which he would be both mortified and sympathetic.

— In turn, he becomes overly cautious and overprotective of your body. If you even attempt to grab something for yourself, he'll force you back down and retrieve it for you instead. He doesn't like the idea of you straining yourself—even if it doesn't really hurt you to move around—while you're in pain, so he becomes incredibly doting.

— He also researches different assortments of stretches, home remedies, and meals to ease your cramps; however, he will ask you about them before implicating them into your routine.

— If you're embarrassed by any stains, don't be. Sigma will provide countless replacements for anything stained beyond repair, and he understands none of it is your fault. You can't always predict when to start your period, but that's okay.

— He is also very understanding if you are in a bad mood because he knows that, logically, he would be the same if he were in your position. So, he is quick to de-escalate a situation if your temper becomes strained. And if you start feeling gross or insecure about your body, he is quick to shut down those negative thoughts. He loves your body, and he thinks you should, too. It's the body of someone so ethereal to him, after all.

— He is an absolute sweetheart whose only goal is to make you feel better.