Alan Rickman x Plus-size Reader One-shots

First Blood

A/N:

This request came to me by one of my cousin's friends. I know I've written a period-related imagine before but these things happen on a monthly basis, so why not write another one, right?

I LOVE reading your comments! Let me know what you think.

On a side note: which (Y/N) - Alan relationship do you prefer? Married, dating, strangers, or dating with others and having an affair? I know I mostly write them as a married couple, so I'm curious to know which you prefer.

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Incoming text:

Darling, where are you? Been calling for days. Worried sick.

Incoming text:

It's been three days, getting worried. Call me. Please.

Incoming text:

You're driving me insane with worry. Are you alright? Call me.

(Y/N) groans into her pillow, carefully twisting her body on the bed as she picks up her phone from the bedside table, only scanning the messages on her home screen but not opening them.

"Oh, God," she moans as she screws her eyes shut, dropping the phone back onto the bedside table before clutching her stomach as another wave of nausea hits her.

The curtains in her room are drawn closed, turning the room midnight black despite it only being late afternoon on a Tuesday.

She stumbles into the en-suite bathroom before weakly leaning over the toilet and emptying her stomach.

Limply, she wipes at her mouth after being done, proceeding to rinse her mouth with the blue mouthwash.

Today marks the third day that she's not been able to keep any food down. Just the mere thought of having to chew something is enough to make her sick again.

She plops down onto the toilet, pulling the braided blue string out of her. She groans as she watches the soaked tampon dripping into the toilet, covered in deep, dark red blood, almost veering on black.

It's taken this one thirty minutes to soak through as is evident from the dark red blood on the white pad in her cotton underwear as well.

"WiLL KeEp YoU dRy FoR uP tO EiGhT hOuRs," she says in a mocking voice as she cleans herself and inserts a fresh tampon.

"What a load of bollocks," she rolls her eyes, changing the stained pad before thoroughly washing her hands.

Her body feels beaten up. Her insides feel like a jackhammer is having a go at her uterine walls from the way her cramps are increasing.

She cannot stand the constant pain in her abdomen and lower back anymore, accompanied by waves of nausea that wash over her like a tsunami at untimely intervals.

She fucking hates periods.

At least she can thank mother nature for making sure she's not pregnant.

She shuffles tiredly back to her bed, slowly crawling under the covers and covering her head as she hears her phone ding again.

It's probably Alan. Again.

She hates to do this to him. He is an extremely kind and thoughtful person but she hates the thought of having to tell him why she's been incapacitated for the past three days.

Who wants to be with a woman who is feet-up in bed once every month?

Wanna go on a date? Can't, I'm having my period.