Andrew Garfield one-shots

Periods

TW: brief mention of a difficult past relationship, but nothing too detailed, mentions of periods, but again nothing too detailed

fluff

You could easily say periods were the bane of your existence.

You couldn't understand why women have to suffer through this hell every single month; why couldn't it just be easier? Something simple, maybe a day or two of bleeding but with no cramps or pains, but no, periods had to be excruciatingly long and painful, and all of that for the sole reason of letting you know you're not pregnant.

Honestly, you'd much prefer a card with a "Congratulations! You're boyfriend hasn't knocked you up this month!" written on it.

Now, at 9 am on a rainy day, you groan, rolling over in bed and wincing at the light peeking through the curtains of the bedroom window; it's like everything and anything could be a bother to you right now. Looking at your left, you see your boyfriend's empty side of the bed, and wonder why he wasn't there, cuddling you and showering you in soft kisses, as he usually does in the morning.

Just as you're about to reach for your phone on the nightstand, the door to your bedroom squeaks as it opens and you barely manage to sit up halfway before you're being thrown back onto the bed once more, feeling a sudden weight on your body and a slobbery tongue lick at your face.

Laughing breathlessly, you gently push your black retriever off your chest, "morning to you too, Padfoot," you greet the dog as you pet his snout.

As you do so, you hear the soft sound of footsteps on the floor, just moments before the door fully opens and you're greeted by the beautiful sight of your handsome boyfriend, clad in striped pajamas pants and fuzzy socks; his hair his unruly and messy, his face still has the signs the fabric of the pillowcase left on his right cheek, and a soft, sleepy smile is etched onto his face.

You smile at your adorable boyfriend as he makes his way over to you with a glass of water in his hand.

"Morning, darling," Andrew says, in his beautiful British accent, as he leans down to peck your lips; however you stop him from doing so, putting a finger on his soft lips.

"Nah-uh, morning breath".

You laugh softly at his pouty expression, leaning up to press a delicate kiss on the hairless skin of his cheek; "morning Drew," you smile up at him.

Andrew hums appreciatively and gently pecks your forehead, before settling beside you on the mattress, handing you the glass of water and bringing his other hand up to your face, a pill between his thumb and pointer finger; "for your cramps," he says, gently pushing the pill between your lips, and folding your hand in his while you washed the painkiller down with the water.

Setting the glass onto the floor, you squeeze Andrew's hand, "you, Andrew Garfield, are a life saver," you say as you lean forward, crawling towards him and sitting down on his lap, your legs wrapped around his waist, arms circled around his neck, as you rest your head on his shoulder.

He lets out a huff of laughter ash his hand comes up to rest on the back of your head, the other moving in a rubbing motion up and down your back, "happy to be of service," he simpers, turning his head sideways to press a kiss to your temple. "How are you feeling?" he questions quietly.

You shrug, snuggling closer into his body, "so far, so good," you comment, "just cramps and a bit of a killing headache, pretty much the usual," you say at last, hitching a breath of air as a sudden pain hits your lower abdomen.

Andrew just keeps rubbing your back in a shooting motion as he holds you a bit tighter in his arms, "you okay?" he questions in a soft whisper, as if he's afraid any louder would disturb you.