Andrew Garfield one-shots

I ALWAYS NOTICE YOU- ANDREW GARFIELD

Andrew Garfield x plus sized reader

I was currently setting up my workstation in the makeup trailer, laying out all of my brushes and sponges on the table in front of me; a knock on the door made me look up and wipe my hands down on my apron before going to open the door.

"Hello, Mr. Garfield," I greeted, "come in, I was just setting up the last few things.

Andrew smiled at me and entered the trailer, "good morning, y/n," he said as he sat down on his makeup chair, "just how many times am I gonna have to tell you to just call me Andrew like everyone else?" He teased playfully.

I nodded and started taking Andrew's skincare products out of my bag, "sorry," I mumbled, "force of habit."

"Don't worry about it," Andrew said as I applied a pair of eye patches on his barely there eye-bags.

I stared putting on some Florence by Mills cream on his face, "you have very delicate hands," he said as he closed his eyes.

I chuckled, "thanks."

Andrew opened his eyes and looked up at me, "can I ask you something?" He questioned.

I shrugged and started brushing through his hair with a comb, "sure?"

Andrew shifted in his chair slightly, "why did you choose to do this?" He asked.

I tilted my head sideways, "you mean a makeup artist?" I clarified.

Andrew nodded, "yeah, sorry," he chuckled.

I cleared my throat, "um, I guess cause I liked taking care of people," I shrugged, "with makeup and good hair you can do a lot of things."

Andrew looked at me questioningly, "what do you mean?"

I scratched the back of my neck, "you know, for some people makeup is a way of seeing themselves in a better way, same goes for a good hairstyle," I mumbled, "I know that maybe it doesn't make sense," I sighed, "but when I was younger I always felt horrible about myself, and then I'd put on some makeup, curl my hair maybe, and then I'd hate myself just a little bit less," I chuckled, "sorry, it's pathetic."

Andrew looked at me with an unreadable expression, "why would you hate yourself?" He whispered.

I shook my head, "nothing," I chuckled, "forget I said that," I laughed, "plum or kiwi?" I asked as I held up two bottles of hair gel.

Andrew pointed to the kiwi one, "no seriously," he said, "why did you hate yourself?"

I stopped running my fingers through his soft brown hair, "I was lonely," I shrugged, "it was just me and my mother and we didn't get along, I had no friends and I surely wasn't very good looking," I sighed, "people would bully me cause I was fat, I had pimples, scars, stretch marks and all of that," I shrugged again, "nothing much, I know, but I was sensitive and took everything personally."