Allyria

BE MORE CAREFUL — BENJAMIN POINDEXTER.

SUMMARY dex loves playing protector, he's one of the good guys after all.

NOTES this had me thinking of cam in good luck chuck, if anyone has seen that movie.

WARNINGS short n sweet, ditzy!reader.

Behind every clumsy girl is a very patient man. And that's exactly what Dex was to you. He found it a challenge at times, to keep watch for danger around you, whilst you also were a danger to yourself. It helped him sleep better at night, at least. Gone were the nights of twisting and turning, trying to find sleep. Because as much as his love for you consumed him, keeping you alive exhausted him.

You would wonder where your bruises would come from, spotting them when you would lotion your skin after a shower. Sat naked on the bed beside him as he read a book, dragging his fingers up and down your back as you hummed to yourself.

"Woah, look at this one!" You exclaimed, pointing at your hip where a dark, purplish bruise sat. "What did I do to get a bruise there?"

Dex observed it, a fresh bruise. Though he knew exactly how it happened, he remembered cooing at you as you laid on the floor for forty minutes groaning in pain.

"You walked into the corner of the kitchen counter, sweetheart." He spoke, returning back to his book and resuming the trail of his fingers along your back. You hissed as you poked at it, until Dex kicked your hand away from it to stop touching it.

He found it sweet, how wrapped up you would get in your conversation with him. That you would simply lose your awareness for the outside world, leaving him to get you from point a to point b alive, and in one piece. He would pull you from a cyclist's path, or save you from walking head first into a scaffolding pole.

"That was close!" You would giggled, leaning into his arm as you continued to ramble.

And it wouldn't stop there. When you would arrive at a coffee shop, he would be sure to sit in the booth beside you, feigning interest in your workplace drama. And would chew on his pastry, nodding along to your words, so nonchalantly holding a napkin under your chin as you took the first sip of your coffee.

"Thanks, Dex." You would smile.

"S'what I'm here for, sweetheart."

And if you cut yourself whilst chopping an onion in the kitchen, or nicked yourself whilst shaving, or fell off the chair you were balancing on to change a bulb whilst Dex was out. He would always sit you down and tend to you, cleaning your cuts, wrapping your wounds, massaging your sore limbs.

"Gotta be more careful for me, sweetheart."