You'd never spent the night at Shawn's before, and you didn't really plan on it until you started drifting off on his couch and he insisted you just stay.

Without having brought a change of clothes, you crawled into his bed wearing one of his shirts and your underwear.

You slept peacefully and woke up to sunlight cascading over your beautiful boyfriend's face, who had you in a death grip. Gaining consciousness, you shifted a little, immediately alarmed by the familiar feeling of slight cramps and wetness pooling in your panties.

You peeled him off you, darting into the washroom and checking. Yep, Aunt Flow was visiting. Thankfully, it wasn't too heavy, but you didn't have a change of underwear and definitely didn't have any tampons. Unsure of what to do, you sat on the toilet for a minute and tried to figure out how you were gonna get yourself out of this one.

"Mornin', baby," your boyfriend lazily walked in, not seeming to mind that you were on the toilet.

He stopped in his tracks, acknowledging the look of horror on your face.

"What's wrong?" he asked, instantly worried.

"Shawn, I uh, well, you see, I woke up and I was a little uncomfortable, and then I had a cramp, and I came in here, and uh-"

"Did you get your period?" he asked bluntly, crossing his arms and nodding.

"Yeah, I'm sorry," you said, breaking eye contact.

"What the fuck? Babe, don't be sorry," he giggled, resting his butt against the countertop, "Tell me what you need and I'll go get it," he spoke, arms folded over his broad chest.

"Seriously?" you asked, shocked by his lack of discomfort. He was so normal about it.

"No, I'm gonna leave you to bleed all over the apartment. Yes, seriously, idiot. What do you need, babe?" he joked, pulling out his phone to write it down.

"Umm, okay, can you just get me some Tampax Regulars? They're yellow. And then a bottle of Midol extra-strength, for my cramps, and maybe just a pair of underwear, cheap ones, whatever. Is that okay?" you asked, watching him type everything you just said into his phone.

"Of course, babe. Let me get dressed," he left the washroom, returning a few seconds later.

"These are my smallest briefs, think you can make like, a makeshift pad? With like a wad of toilet paper, or whatever? And some sweats," he put the folded clothing on the counter, shooting you a sympathetic smile.

You were in awe. He even considered that the underwear you had on weren't wearable, and wasn't grossed out by his underwear being on you, now? So perfect. So soft.

"Yes, Shawn, that's perfect. Oh my god," you spoke, just looking at him.

He giggled, "No problem, love. I'll be back in half an hour," he said, leaning down to kiss you on the cheek.