Idc, normalize kink shaming. Cause y'all be using “don’t kink shame” and “it’s fiction” to excuse being into incest, pedophilia, cannibalism, etc. Like, be so fr, you ship a 14 year old with a 30 year, want to get railed by your dad and want to see two brothers f*ck each other. I don’t engage with things fictionally that I don’t like/wouldn’t want to do in real life. Yes, I’m judging you.
it's insane to me that donnie donahue doesn't have more hype like okay mr gorgeous brown eyes big ass muscles loving father and husband who shows up and gets his job done well ily. and goddd the "death and chaos" tattoo after pittfest and then the "miracles and blessings" after his daughter was born ohhh crying donnie donahue they cannot handle your empathetic well adjusted soul genuinely one of the most likable people on this show
Summary : Dex is finally home, but his son doesn’t understand why his very scary daddy is so clingy with Mommy.
Pairing : DDBA! Benjamin Poindexter x reader (she/her)
Warnings/tags : FLUFF!!! Dad!Dex, Mom!Reader, canon-typical danger referenced, assassination attempt referenced, parenting, you and Dex has a son called Leo, attachment issues, clingy! Dex, husband! Dex, fatherhood, domestic, North Star! Reader. (let me know if I missed anything!)
Word Count : 2.9k
Requested by : anon
Notes : This can be read as a standalone fic, but it’s also connected to What Makes a Good Man. All you need to know is that this takes place between DDBA season 1 and season 2. You and Dex have been married since his FBI days, and you have a son named Leo, conceived during a conjugal visit. Enjoy!
Leo had never met his daddy before Dex broke out of prison.
At least not in any way that made sense to a four-year-old.
For most of Leo’s life, Daddy had been a name in your bedtime story. A photograph tucked inside a book. A man Leo knew through your sadness, your smiles, and the way you sometimes touched your wedding ring when you thought no one was looking.
Then, suddenly, one night after the assassination attempt on Fisk’s ball, Daddy was real.
Daddy was tall. Daddy had a missing tooth and very serious eyes. Daddy wore a baseball cap when he went outside and crouched whenever Leo spoke to him, like whatever Leo had to say mattered more than anything else in the world.
Leo loved him. That part was fine. Accepting him as a fixture in his life was easy peasy.
Children had a way of accepting miracles without asking them to explain themselves. Daddy was home, so Leo held his hand. Daddy could fix broken toys, so Leo brought him broken dinosaurs. Daddy listened very carefully to the difference between a stegosaurus and an ankylosaurus, so Leo decided Daddy was smart.
And Leo loved Daddy because they had one thing in common: they both loved you.
Leo loved that Daddy loved Mommy. That was not the problem.
Honestly, Leo thought it made perfect sense. Mommy was amazing. Mommy smelled like books and soap and the the cotton she wore to the library. Mommy knew where the plasters were, remembered which dinosaur was which, and always did the voices properly during bedtime stories. Mommy could tell when Leo was sad.
So, of course Daddy loved Mommy. Obviously.
Daddy loving Mommy was not confusing. But Daddy being attached to Mommy like a very large, very serious sticker was the confusing part.
Because since Daddy had come home, he had been very… clingy (he learned that word from your best friend, Uncle Jonathan). Leo noticed it immediately. Daddy stood too close to Mommy in the kitchen. Daddy followed Mommy down the hall when you went to get laundry. Daddy held on to Mommy’s waist whenever she walked past him, like he had to check she was still real. Daddy kissed Mommy’s forehead. Daddy kissed Mommy’s hand. Daddy kissed Mommy’s shoulder when she was making coffee, which made Mommy say, “Dex,” in that voice that meant you were pretending to be annoyed but were actually not annoyed at all.
And at night, Daddy was worse.
At night, when Leo was supposed to be asleep, Daddy slept in Mommy’s bed. Apparently it was also Daddy’s bed now, but Leo wasn’t ready to accept that.
And Daddy didn’t just sleep beside Mommy, but he was practically glued to Mommy!
Leo had seen it from the hallway more than once, when he was supposed to be asleep across the hall. You would be propped against the pillows, reading under the warm gold light of the bedside lamp, and Dex would be wrapped around your waist like he had been hired to keep you from floating away. His face would be half-buried against your chest, one arm heavy over your stomach, mouth pressing sleepy little kisses to your collarbone every few minutes.
You let him do it. You even smiled when he did, because you loved it.
Sometimes you put your fingers in his hair and scratched gently, and Daddy would go so stills that Leo knew he liked it very much.
Leo understood affection. Leo understood love.
Leo didn’t understand, though, why Daddy was allowed to sleep with Mommy every night when Leo had to sleep by himself.
Because Leo had a room. Mommy had a room. Rabbit had a place in the dollhouse. The dinosaurs had their chest. Mommy’s library books went in her tote bag, even when you sometimes forgot three of them on the kitchen table. Shoes went by the door.
Everything had a place.
Except Daddy, apparently. Daddy’s place was just wherever Mommy was. He didn’t even have his own room!
This bothered Leo for days.
Not in a jealous way. More in a sad, practical way. Everyone needed a place. So one afternoon, Leo marched into the guest bedroom that had slowly become your office, pointed at the pull-out sofa bed and your desk, and announced, “Daddy, this can be your room.”
Dex looked up from where he had been fixing the loose hinge on the door. “My room?”
Leo nodded, very seriously. “You need one.”
Dex glanced toward the hallway, where you were making tea in the kitchen, then back at Leo. He looked confused. “I… have a room.”
Leo frowned. “Where?”
Dex said it like it was obvious. “With your mom.”
Leo went completely still. His little face folded into pure confusion. “With Mommy?”
Dex’s mouth twitched. “Yes.”
Leo stared at him like Daddy had just explained the laws of the universe incorrectly.“But that’s Mommy’s room.”
“It’s our room.”
Leo blinked.
You appeared in the doorway with two mugs just in time to watch your son’s entire worldview collapse.
Leo looked at you. Then at Dex. Then back at you.
“Mommy shares her room?”
You bit your lip.
Dex, unhelpfully, looked deeply pleased with himself, smug despite the fact that his competition was literally his own son. “Yes,” he said. “With me.”
Leo’s mouth opened. For once in his tiny life, he had no argument ready. He didn’t even know people could share rooms!
One night, though, when the apartment had gone dark, Leo climbed out of bed with his blanket dragging behind him and tiptoed down the hall. His night-light had been on, but the corner near the wardrobe still looked too shadowy, and Rabbit had fallen off the bed twice, which is probably a bad sign.
Your bedroom door was half-open.
Inside, you were trying to read.
Keyword trying, because Dex was not helping.
He was curled around you beneath the blanket, his arm around your waist, his cheek pressed against your chest. Every time your eyes moved back to the page, his mouth brushed against your skin in a lazy little kiss, like he couldn’t help himself.
“Dex,” you murmured, the book still open in one hand. “You’re distracting me.”
His voice came muffled against your skin. “Hmm.”
“I am trying to read.”
“So read.”
You lowered the book.
Dex lifted his head just enough to look at you, and Leo saw that gentle thing happen to Daddy’s face again. The thing that only happened around Mommy. Leo decided this was very sweet.
Unfortunately, Leo was also a very rule-oriented kid, so he also found it very hypocritical.
“Mommy?”
Dex went still immediately.
You looked toward the door, your eyebrows furrowing. “What is it, sweetheart?”
Leo stood in the doorway in his pyjamas, clutching his blanket with both hands. “I’m scared of the dark. Can you come sleep with me?”
Your eyes changed from curious into sympathetic. It meant Leo already knew you were about to say something disappointing and feel bad about it later.
“Oh, baby,” you said. “You’re getting bigger now. You need to try sleeping by yourself, okay? Being independent is important.”
Leo stared at you. It was very close to his father’s death stare when his eyes moved, very slowly, To Dex.
Dex, who was still wrapped around your waist.
Dex, whose face was still half-buried against your akin.
Dex, who had made no attempt to move, explain himself, or pretend he was not clinging to you for dear life.
Leo frowned. “But Daddy’s bigger than me.”
You froze. Dex’s eyes finally opened properly.
Leo pointed at him, deeply offended by the hypocrisy happening in front of him. “He should be independent first!”
What followed in the next few seconds was terrible, perfect silence.
Then you made a laugh-like sound into your hand, trying to hide it but failing.
Dex lifted his head slowly. Leo stood his ground.
He had Dex’s stubborn little mouth. Dex’s serious eyes. Dex’s absolute confidence when he believed he was right.
And unfortunately, he was right.
“Leo,” you said carefully, trying very hard to remain a responsible parent. “Daddy is…”
You looked down at Dex. Your husband looked up at you, daring you to finish that sentence.
You couldn’t.
Because what were you supposed to say?
Daddy spent seven years missing Mommy?
Daddy has attachment issues?
Daddy is a six-foot fugitive who becomes emotionally unstable if Mommy is too far away?
Daddy is emotionally dependent but we’re working on it?
Leo blinked at you, waiting for an answer, but your husband beat you to it.
“I am independent,” Dex defended himself, clearing his throat.
Dex looked down at his own arm around your waist as if discovering it there for the first time, because at this point, it was muscle memory. Then, he looked back at Leo.
“I’m protecting her.”
You chuckled, and Dex shot you a look, almost a pout.
Leo didn’t look convinced. “From what?”
Dex opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
You bit your lip to stop a laugh
That was when Leo knew he had found weakness.
He stepped farther into the room, dragging his blanket behind him like a tiny judge entering court. “There’s no bad guys in here.”
Dex’s face went serious. “There could be.”
You smacked his shoulder lightly. “Don’t scare him.”
Dex rolled his eyes, because he knew his son “I couldn’t if I wanted to.”
Leo climbed onto the end of the bed without permission, still frowning at his father, which was funny, because it just looked like Dex and mini-Dex having the world's cutest standoff.
“If Daddy can sleep with Mommy because he’s scared of bad guys,” Leo said, “then I can sleep with Mommy because I’m scared of the dark.”
You stared at him. Dex stared at him.
Leo stared back, deeply satisfied with his own logic. It was, unfortunately, airtight.
Your resolve lasted maybe half a second. “Oh, sweetheart,” you sighed, already defeated. “Fine. I’ll come with you.”
Leo’s face lit up immediately.
You pulled the blanket back and started to climb out of bed. Dex, because he was your husband, moved at the same time. He was already sitting up, hair mussed, expression serious, one hand reaching for the edge of the blanket like it was obvious that he was coming, too.
Leo noticed, and his little smile vanished.
“No.”
You paused halfway out of bed, with one foot on the floor.
Dex looked at his son. “No?”
Leo tightened his grip around your hand and stood very straight, blanket dragging behind him like a tiny king issuing a royal decree. “Daddy can’t come.”
Dex blinked. You pressed your lips together.
“Why not?” Dex asked, and there was just enough offence in his voice to keep you amused.
Leo frowned at him, still deeply wounded by the audacity. “Because Daddy needs to practice by yourself.”
You turned your face away because if you looked at Dex, you were going to laugh.
Dex stared at Leo.
Leo stared back with the calm, righteous confidence of someone who had caught a grown man breaking his own rule.
“I can sleep by myself,” Dex said, eyebrows furrowing.
Leo’s eyes dropped very pointedly to your side of the bed, where Dex had been wrapped around you two seconds ago. “You don’t.”
You made a small, helpless sound.
Leo tugged your hand, already pulling you toward the door. “Come on, Mommy.”
You let him lead you, biting your lip so hard it hurt.
Dex stayed in bed, visibly offended, the blanket pooled around his waist, looking like an assassin who had just been grounded by his four-year-old. As a result, he scoffed.
It was small, but Leo heard it.
“Daddy,” Leo said, scandalised.
Dex stared at him. “What?”
“That was rude.”
Dex closed his eyes.
For a second, you thought he might actually argue. Dex liked arguing when he thought he was right, and Dex almost always thought he was right. But then he looked at you, and the annoyance in his face tamed into something much more helpless.
Leo saw it.
Daddy loved Mommy so much. Leo liked that Daddy loved Mommy.
He did.
It made the house feel cozy.
But rules were rules.
“It’s one night, baby,” you said softly.
Dex’s teeth clenched.
He didn’t like it, that much obvious.
But Leo was watching him with solemn expectation, and Dex had been trying very hard to be good at fatherhood. Good at breakfast. Good at bedtime. Good at not moving the dinosaur chest even though he clearly still wanted to. Good at letting Leo win small things because he was his son.
So Dex exhaled through his nose. “Fine.”
Leo brightened.
Dex pointed lightly at him. “But Mommy comes back after you fall asleep.”
Leo frowned. “No. Mommy sleeps in my bed.”
Dex’s expression went flat.
“All night?” Dex asked, very annoyed now.
Leo nodded. “All night.”
Dex looked at you like betrayal had entered the marriage.
You smiled sweetly. “It’s only fair.”
“Hmmm,” Dex sighed.
“Yes,” Leo said. “Because Daddy is learning.”
Dex looked deeply unimpressed. Still, he leaned across the bed and kissed your temple. His mouth lingered against your skin, warm and reluctant, his hand coming up to cup your cheek like he was already annoyed about missing you from two rooms away.
Leo sighed loudly. Dex looked at him.
“You kiss Mommy a lot,” Leo said.
You laughed for real then.
Dex’s mouth twitched. “I’m married to her.”
Leo considered that.
“Does married mean Daddy is always cuddling mommy?”
Dex shook his head, trying to wrap around why his son was so argumentative about you. Oh right. He was his son. “No.”
Leo looked at you. “I think yes.”
Dex opened his mouth, but you reached over and patted his cheek.
“Don’t argue with him,” you said, still smiling. “He’s already won.”
Dex looked offended, but he kissed your palm anyway.
Then he leaned down and rested one large hand on top of Leo’s head. “Be good,” he said, even though he knew Leo was already a very good kid.
Leo nodded. “Be brave.”
Dex breath hitched.
Leo repeated very seriously, “Be brave, Daddy.”
Dex looked at him for a long moment, and then his voice went smaller. “I’ll try.”
So you carried Leo back to his room, even though he was big enough to walk, because sometimes being scared of the dark meant you got carried. His room smelled like clean laundry, picture books, and plastic dinosaurs. The night-light cast amber stars over the walls, and the dinosaur chest sat at the foot of the bed, exactly where Leo wanted it.
You curled yourself around him in his little bed as best you could. It was too small for you, so your knees bent awkwardly and one foot stuck out from under the blanket, but Leo looked pleased.
Your arm went over his tummy.
“Mommy?” he whispered.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Daddy loves you a lot.”
Your hand moved slowly through his hair. “Yes,” you whispered. “He does.”
“He kisses you all the time.”
You smiled in the dark. “I noticed.”
“Is that because married?”
You were quiet for a second. Then you said, “Partly.”
Leo thought about that.
“Does Daddy get scared when you’re not there?”
Your hand paused only briefly, but he felt it. To avoid thinking too much, you kissed his forehead.
“Sometimes.”
“But he’s big.”
“Yes.”
“And he has to learn.”
You laughed into his hair. “Yes. Apparently he does.”
Leo nodded, satisfied.
For a while, there was only the hum of the apartment and the faint noise of New York outside the window. Leo’s eyes grew heavy. Your hand kept moving gently through his hair until sleep pulled him under.
At some point, you fell asleep, too.
You meant to wait until Leo was settled and then secretly go back to your room. You really did. But Leo was warm, the bed was soft enough, and the apartment was silent. Your eyes closed for just a second.
Before you knew it, pale morning light was slipping through the curtains.
Leo woke first.
For a moment, he only blinked at the light on the wall. Then he noticed you still curled awkwardly around him, asleep with one arm across his middle.
Then, he noticed your hand.
It had slipped over the edge of the bed sometime in the night and… someone was holding it.
Leo lifted his head.
Daddy was on the floor.
Dex was asleep beside Leo’s bed, back against the wall, one knee bent, one arm resting on the mattress. His fingers were tangled gently with yours. He must’ve come into his room sometime in the night, found your hand, and fell asleep.
He hadn’t climbed into the bed.
So, while he may have tried to stay in his own room, he had definitely not slept by himself.
Leo stared.
Dex looked different asleep. Still serious somehow, but softer around the mouth. His black T-shirt was wrinkled. His hair was messy. He looked uncomfortable on the floor, but he was holding Mommy’s hand like it was the only place his hand belonged.
Leo looked at you. Still asleep. He looked at Daddy again. Still asleep.
Then Leo slowly reached for Stegosaurus.
He lifted it close to his mouth so he could whisper without waking either of you.
“Daddy is not independent,” Leo told it.
Stegosaurus, wisely, didn’t argue.
Leo nodded to himself. Then, after a moment, he added very softly,
“But he’s learning.”
—end.
Dex taglist : @itsdynotdaddy @diabolicallydownbad @doesanyonereadthis @meicore @pixie2k5 @bibiishin @starlitflora @pearlstiare @glorybeat @stardustworlds @castawaybarnes @supervampireflame @not-the-teen-witch @billybonesxx @ultimatewolverine @treetrees-world-of-imagiation @bitch-spaghetti-o @lostinthes4uce @cotton-eee @weallhaveadestiny @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @moonbug333 @yujyujj @mattdexx @lostfallenangelsblog @bloomsberryfairy @flimsysquid @abbotfan @leonetta2014 @ficcharsimpsblog @odairtrqsh @ugh-whytho @riverjane-d (Let me know if I missed anyone. If you want to be added, please ask/messege! it gets lost in the comments sometimes!)
wait more Andrew pope Cody on your period. what if you’re asleep together and he wakes up because he feels something wet against his boxers. When he lifts the covers he realizes that you got your period. your blood slightly staining staining waist band and his hair there. you’re dead asleep and unaware as he slides out of bed and slides you across the mattress so you wouldn’t be in the small stain that’s on the sheets now as well. the bed is big enough and he’ll worry about that tomorrow. he wipes himself off and changes his boxers and come back to bed and gently maneuvers you to slide your panties off you so that he can clean you down with a warm rag. when you start to stir a little he rubs your hip and tells you it’s okay go back to sleep. you make a little noise and a gesture of a nod he thinks as you do what he says. there’s a trust between the both of you that Andrew never thought another person would feel so deeply with him. so much that you’re comfortable enough to stay asleep when he tells you. and I think he would put your tampon in for you. using one hand to grip your thigh and the other to push it inside you before sliding a new pair of underwear up your legs. he knows if you woke up you’d be so embarrassed but nothing could ever be disgusting or embarrassing because it’s you.
OKAY I love this! anon this is such a lovely blurb, I agree that pope would do everything he could to ease your embarrassment. I love the part about you trusting him and feeling safe with him to just fall asleep when he tells you.
I couldn’t add to what you’ve written, it’s perfect, but it did inspire me to write something adjacent to this idea because something similar happened to me recently and i had no pope cody to help me.
warnings/tags: mentions of blood, menstration/period/time of the month, supportive bf!andrew cody
You woke up wet. You weren’t sure what had awoken you in the middle of the night but the uncomfortable, concerning wetness between your legs certainly made sure to bring you into a groggy but panicked alertness. You sat up the best you could with Andrew’s arm heavy over your waist and his body pressed tightly to your back. You propped yourself up on your elbow and immediately felt a rush between your legs thanks to your movement.
“Fuck.” You cursed, the panic swirling in your chest kicking you into action. You threw the covers off of yourself and slid across the mattress to make a break for the bathroom. You heard Andrew stir behind you and you cursed internally that you’d woken him but you needed to act fast as gravity worked against you. You spared a quick glance back at him in the bed as you exited the bedroom and your heart dropped at the dark stain on your light coloured top sheet that was visible even in the dim moonlight. You didn’t have a moment to worry about that or warn Andrew because the stream of blood travelling down your leg needed your attention now.
You hobbled to the bathroom and threw on the overhead light as you reached behind yourself to push the door mostly shut. You winced at the brightness of the room, the light stinging your eyes as you felt your way to the toilet and sat down to go pee, hoping the rest of the blood could be disposed of into the toilet. Looking down at your sleep shorts around your knees, to your horror you found them soaked with blood, as though you hadn’t used any menstrual products at all. The patch was fresh, wet, and large, and as you stripped out of your shorts you had a terrible realization that with how closely Andrew had been snuggled against you, you must have bled on him.
Oh god you could have died from embarrassment.
You wadded up some toilet paper to wipe up the line of blood that had run down your leg and sighed to yourself in frustration over the whole situation. This had never happened before, and you’d definitely never bled so badly with your partner in your bed. Why did this have to happen in the middle of the night? Now you’d have to strip the bed and get new clothes to sleep in and if Andrew hadn’t completely awoken, you’d have the mortifying job of waking him to tell him what happened if he had blood on his boxers.
A soft knock on the mostly closed bathroom door startled you and you whipped your head towards it, surprise rattling through your chest. Andrew’s gruff but sympathetic voice came through the crack in the door.
“You okay?” You closed your eyes in mortification and doubled over on the toilet as though you could hide.
“Yeah,” You called out lamely, your tone flat. The fact Andrew was awake and had asked you that question meant he knew what happened. You wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole.
“Andrew I-” You sat up, starting to apologize, but Andrew cut you off.
“I hope these are okay.” Andrew said as his arm slipped through the crack in the door and you realized he was balancing a neatly folded pile of clothes on the palm of his hand, which he set on the corner of the bathroom counter right by the door. Only his arm entered the bathroom so you could maintain your privacy. You were stunned to a loss of words and left to stare at the kind gesture as Andrew retreated down the hallway without another word.
Other boyfriends in the past would turn their nose up at any mention of your time of the month or would make you feel shameful whenever the bleeding or symptoms got unmanageable. Andrew acted very logically instead, providing you with some clothes to change into in the privacy of the bathroom. Your embarrassment wasn’t totally gone but Andrew’s actions definitely soothed the pit in your stomach.
You spent the next few minutes focusing on cleaning up, getting out of your ruined clothes and wiping your skin with a warm, wet cloth to make sure your skin was as clean as you could get without taking a shower. You slipped on the new pyjamas Andrew brought you, including a new pair of underwear that you recognized as a stained pair you only wore during your time of the month. That small attention to detail had a grateful smile creeping its way onto your face. As you were getting cleaned and dressed, you could hear Andrew moving up and down the hallway periodically. Unsure of what he was doing, you replaced your menstrual products with fresh ones and finished getting dressed so you could investigate.
When you left the bathroom you noticed the light was on in the kitchen and you followed it down the hallway to find Andrew standing at the kitchen sink with the sheet from your bed. The sharp tang of vinegar reached your nose as you moved to stand next to him and you saw that Andrew was treating the stain on your sheet with white vinegar and cold water.
“Oh, Andrew you don’t need to do that. I could do that in the morning.” You said, your embarrassment rising back up into your stomach. Andrew shouldn’t have to deal with your mess. Andrew glanced at you, his hands dabbing at the stain with a paper towel.
“The stain is easier to clean if you get to it faster, it would have been tougher for you in the morning.” Andrew looked back down at the sheet and paused his patting to check his handiwork. He tilted his chin up in satisfaction and dropped the paper towel in the garbage before grabbing the stain remover spray off the counter. “You were busy with other stuff so I took care of it.” Andrew sprayed the sheet with good amount of the stain remover, completely oblivious to the gratitude that was soaring through your body. This was something you loved about Andrew, he just handled things without complaint or instruction because in his mind, it was the practical thing to do. Why would he leave things for you to do when he could just do it himself? Your mental load was practically nonexistent with Andrew.
“You can go back to bed if you want. I put new sheets on the bed and I already cleaned up the hallway.” Andrew said as he laid the sheet out on your dining room table to be dealt with in the morning. The last part of his sentence confused you and you took a step forward, following him to the table.
“Wait, what was wrong in the hallway?”
“There was blood on the floor.” Andrew stated simply. Your jaw dropped open as your mind went momentarily blank with shock. In your sleepy stumble to the bathroom you’d managed to leave a trail of blood that your boyfriend cleaned up for you. Oh god, what if he stepped in it in the dark? If you thought you felt shame before, this was tenfold.
“That-that’s never happened before, Andrew I’m so sorry you had to clean that up.” You dropped your face into your hands and groaned. You were too tired for all of this, it was 3am for goodness sake. You felt Andrew’s fingertips graze your elbows and you dropped your hands to find your boyfriend reaching for you gently, his eyebrows furrowed lightly in confusion.
“It isn’t a problem. You’re the one bleeding, you shouldn’t have to bend over to clean the floors or stand around removing the stain, you should be resting.” Andrew’s warm hands rubbed up and down your arms comfortingly and you let yourself fall forward into his embrace. You wrapped your arms around his torso and nuzzled your face against the bare skin of his chest as he pulled you close. Andrew was so thoughtful and caring and knew just what to say to make you feel better. His practically and calmness about the whole thing made you feel like you didn’t have to apologize for getting blood on his boxers, which you knew you did since he was wearing a new pair. Bleeding a few days every month was a part of your life and Andrew knew you didn’t have control over it, it wasn’t something to feel shame about.
You stayed in the hug for only a little longer before you decided that your bed was calling for you. You took Andrew’s hand and headed back to bed, shutting off the kitchen light as you passed it and declining Andrew’s offer of doing the stain treatment on your original pair of pyjamas. You could deal with it in the morning. Tucked into bed with Andrew, all snuggled up close to his chest, you released a sigh and tried to fall asleep. Unfortunately twinges of anxiety began to pull at your mind, disturbing your ability to drift off. Andrew could feel a slight tension in your body and he pulled back just enough to look at you.
“Are you okay? Are you in pain? I can grab the hot water bottle and some meds.”
“No, no, it’s not that, I-” You paused, unsure of how to say how you were feeling. You knew what you needed but you’d already disturbed Andrew’s sleep, which was a precious commodity for him, you didn’t want to make the rest of his slumber unpleasant.
“What?” He prompted. “Are you worried you’ll bleed a lot again?” And just like that, he read your mind. You nodded and Andrew got up immediately, leaving the room and returning quickly with a towel. Your heart soared at the continued expressions of familiarity and love from your boyfriend, how he showed he knew you so well and that he wanted you to be comfortable. You scooted over so he could place the towel down on the bed for you to sleep on top of.
As you got situated again with Andrew tucked behind you, his arms wrapped securely around as he held you close, you let out a sigh of relief and relaxed into his embrace. Andrew truly felt that your time of the month was no big deal and he was concerned for you rather than annoyed or disgusted. You hadn’t realized you’d been doing so much alone in your previous relationships, making your needs smaller and allowing your own mental and physical discomfort to keep your partners comfortable. Andrew showed you how backwards that was and that your partner should be caring for you, not making you feel worse about a natural part of your life.
You fell back to sleep easily in Andrew’s embrace, all your stress nonexistent now that you knew there was nothing to worry about.
I love it when fan fiction writers are like: “ah shit, this was meant to be one part but I started writing it and now it has to be three”. Like the fanfic is happening to them and not being created by them.
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