Andrew Garfield one-shots

SPEAK NOW- ANDREW GARFIELD

Request: Hey, I just love your Andrew Garfield one-shots so much and I just wanted to request if you could do a one-shot abt Andrew and Y/n based on the song "Speak Now" by Taylor Swift? If you can't then that is totally fine and I understand. Please have a good day/night and thank you so much for writing these stories

Aybe_Waybe

A/N: hope you'll like it 💞 

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Andrew's pov

I took a deep breath as I knocked on the door, receiving a small invite from the other side.

As I walked in everything on my mind suddenly seemed futile; my eyes trailed over y/n, her body covered by a simple off white robe, her hair done up in a low braid, simple makeup adorning her features.

"Wow," I breathed out, my hands clammy as I wiped them on my pants, "you look..." I trailed off, unable to find a term that could describe her beauty at the moment, finding myself at a complete loss of words, "wow."

She chuckled softly and looked down, smoothing out a nonexistent crease on her robe as I locked the door, "thanks," she whispered, "you look gorgeous," she smiled as her eyes raked over my suit.

I forced a painful smile to appear on my face, "the man of honor has got to look good, right?" I chuckled, but even to my own ears it sounded fake.

She hummed in response, "I suppose so," she sighed, sitting down in the chair of her vanity, pushing the bangs out of her eyes.

I furrowed my brows and moved to stand behind her, my hands finding place on both her shoulders, rubbing soothing circles on her skin to ease her stress, "hey," I whispered gently as she met my gaze through the mirror, "what's wrong?" I questioned in a whisper, not missing the way her eyes had lost their usual sparkle.

Her shoulders dropped under my hands as she closed her eyes, taking a shaky breath, "I'm not sure I'm doing the right thing," she admitted.

I looked down at her and kept my voice soft, "marrying Michael?" I guessed.

She nodded, "I love him, I do, just..." she trailed off.

I sighed and moved back, turning her chair around and kneeling down in front of her, taking her cold hands in mine, "not the way you used to?" I guessed once more.

I knew my answer was correct by the way her eyes glossed over, making my heart ache.

"Things between us have changed," she confessed, "he has changed."

I tilted my head to the side, "he hasn't hurt you, has he?" I questioned, my voice dark.

Her eyes widened as she shook her head frantically, "no! God, no, if he had, you would have been the first to know," she assured, "it's just— I don't know, it feels different, he's more controlling," she shrugged.

"Controlling how?" I questioned as I rubbed my thumbs on her knuckles gently, hoping to reassure her.

She sighed softly, her fingers playing with one of my rings, "he wants to have a say in everything I do, what I eat, what I wear..." she trailed off, one of her hands leaving my hold to grab at her braid, "he's the one who wants me to wear this damn thing," she whispered, sadness evident in her tone, "I hate the way it looks," she admitted.

I nodded, knowing that she preferred to wear her hair down for important occasions, "okay," I whispered as I used my free hand to caress her face gently, "that, I can fix."