Could I get nachos for here, with french fries and a milkshake pretty please??
Order #20
Now Serving!
Main Course: Andrew Garfield x FemReader
Ingredients: 18+, MDNI, smut, friends to lovers, language, dirty talk, mentions of alcohol, no use of protection, no use of y/n.
Meal: Andrew smut, friends to lovers, with rough sex.
Total: $15.78 = 1.5k words
Menu - Masterlist
Your eyes are glued to the pavement in front of you, heels clicking against the stone with each step, careful to not make a mistake. Despite your focus your stride ends up too wide and the heel betrays you, ankle crumpling under the misstep and a large giggle bursting past your lips.
“Woah, easy there hot shot,” the cool tone of your best friend invades your senses, long arms reaching out to steady you. He’s recovered your mistake before any damage happens to your joints and you can only look up and grin into those dough brown eyes.
“Thanks Andy,” you tell him, eyes so fond he can’t help but chuckle at your tipsyness as well. It had been your idea not to hail a cab back to your hotel, instead take the three block walk in stiletto heels after a night of drinking with friends.
Andrew had some press to attend and as usual you were happy to tag along, especially when he informed you old pals would be in town as well. None of this was out of the ordinary, in fact it was the very thing you lived for, and you couldn't imagine a life without the man beside you. No matter how famous he got. You had loved him before the rest of the world did.
“This is why I suggested a cab, less chance of you breaking your neck,” he mutters, adjusting you so he can wrap a long arm around your waist and keep you in step with him. You roll your eyes, aware that he thinks you’re drunk but in fact the alcohol has only relaxed you, just enough to seep into your bones, and mellow you out. The only side effect being a case of the giggles and you’d remember this very moment perfectly tomorrow.
“I’m fine, I just got ahead of myself. Stop worrying,” you tell him, a hand reaching to pat his cheek, and he leans away from you, the doorman of the hotel holding the door open to you both.
You both ride the elevator up to the room in a comfortable silence, you’re excited to abandon this dress, and the heels that almost victimized you. Andrew of course has the key card and you both enter the suite, almost too much space for you and the boy who have shared a hundred beds before.
Yet you mosey to your room, hands already reaching for the zipper. When unsuccessful you reach for the straps on your heels instead, kicking them off and losing a few extra inches in height. Starting for the zipper again you realize there is no hope, huffing you pop open the door and stare across the small living space at Andrews.
“Andyyy, I need help,” you draw in a whine, not common for your normal independent self. His door swings open only a second after, staring at you across the way, only in his dress pants now. “The zipper on my dress, I can’t reach.”
You don’t need to say anymore as he starts towards you, and you slink into the room, leaving the door open for him to follow behind. Once his tall frame is in the doorway you turn and collect your hair, lifting it with one hand so he can reach.
“Sometimes I wonder how you make it without me,” he mutters, stepping into the room, and you chuckle as his long fingers graze your shoulder blades in the direction of the zipper.
“Had you not been here I probably would’ve slept with it on, or pulled it over my head and risk ruining it,” you tell him, and Andrew drags the zipper down to reveal more and more bare back, the zipper going so deep it reveals the small triangle of your black thong to him and his throat dries.
“Well I’m happy to take your dress off anytime,” he says and it’s meant to be a joke but something in the air shifts. What you don’t expect is the small clench between your thighs, becoming hyper aware of your bareness and his own. When you turn to face him his eyes are dark, shadowed by what you can only decipher as lust, and the small part of you that always wondered takes the forefront of your mind.
Neither of you speak and in a moment of confidence you lower your arms and let the dress slink off your form, breasts on full display, nipples pinched, and every part of you begging to be touched by him. You didn’t want your gentle friend Andrew. You wanted him to take you in every way a lover does in any way he wants.
“Are you sure you’re not just drunk?” he clarifies, wanting to make sure your clear desire wasn’t the alcohol talking. After so many years of loving you he would never recover if this boiled down to just one drunken night.
“No, in fact I wouldn’t mind another shot just in case you deny me,” you tell him with a soft laugh and he joins you, nervously stretching out his hands.
“I could never deny you,” he says and you smile at him sheepishly, taking a step closer, and waiting for him to finally just do something.
“Then would you please kiss me already,” you urge and in a split second he has you wrapped in his arms, bare chests pressing together, and mouths hot against each other. You kiss him like your life depends on it, and he guides you towards the bed, not wasting another minute now that he finally has this chance.
Once on the mattress your hands reach for the button of his trousers, tugging at them until the button finally pops and you can drag down the zipper just as he had with your dress. You're both lost in each other, mouths kissing, and tasting every inch of each other, and you grow wetter by the second.
“I can't believe this is real,” he mutters against your lips and you grin as your hand slips into his pants, palm ghosting over his length, The appendage begging to spring free and straining against his boxers.
“Take these off,” you tell him, pushing at the fabric and he doesn't hesitate to pull back, hands shoving the pants and boxers down in one swoop, his length springing free–aching to be touched. He moves to crawl back over you, mouth pressing languid kisses up your stomach, across your sternum, straying to your breasts, and you clench around nothing at the thought of him being inside of you.
“Protection?” he asks and you shake your head, pulling him close, and shivering when you feel his cock graze the inside of your leg.
“Birth control,” you explain and he grins, mouth meeting your own again as his hand slides down to your panties. He groans into your mouth when he discovers they're soaked through and you whine as he starts to circle your clit through the fabric.
“God, you’re so wet for me,” he says breathily, eyes dark with lust and your hand reaches down and wraps around his cock, pumping it softly in your palm.
“Been dreaming about taking your cock for so long,” you tell him, guiding him towards your entrance and he closes his eyes tightly, like he’s trying to maintain some sort of control.
His hand reaches to replace your own, pressing himself into you, dragging his tip through your folds and collecting the wetness. You’re a whining mess, hips searching for any sort of friction, and finally he relieves you, slowly pushing in as he stretches you out. He’s as big as you had imagined, years of changing in the same room and grey sweatpants that left little to the imagination, but having it in you was better than anything you could’ve ever imagined.
“Jesus, you’re so tight.” he groans, hips finding a rhythm as he rocks into you. He’s a perfect fit and you can’t get enough of him, pulling him down to kiss you, his hands searching for your breasts, and kneading the flesh. It’s years of pent up desire and all of it felt too good.
“I won’t last long,” you admit and his hips stutter at the confession, his own finish building up because this was better than anything he could’ve ever imagined.
“Why did it take us so long to do this?” he asks no one in particular and you chuckle but the sound gets cut off by his fingers finding your clit again. He pumps into you relentlessly, fingers rubbing quick circles, and your body begins to stiffen as your orgasm reaches the edge.
“Shit, I’m cumming,” you tell him and this starts his own finish, the two of you shaking, and squeezing yourself so close together you’re not sure where he ends and you begin. It’s perfect and everything you ever wanted.
“Well, that just happened,” he says, body heavy on top of your own and you both laugh together, the night taking a turn that neither of you expected. A sudden calmness washes over you as you realize how long you had waited for this moment.
“I’m glad it did,” you tell him and he grins back at you, hand reaching to brush some hair from your face. A look of adoration all over his face. You know at this moment nothing will ever be the same again but you have never been more content.
AHHHGG OMG IVE BEEN READING YOUR WRITING AND I LOVEEEEEEEE THE ANDREW GARFIELD FICS <3333
I SAW THE DINWR POST AND ITS SUCH A CUTE THEME IF THERE ARE ANY MORE SLOTS COULD I GET SOME NACHOS W/ CHEESE CURD?
NO PRESSURE LOVE YOUR WORK
<3333!!
Order #18
Now Serving!
Main Course: Andrew Garfield x FemReader
Ingredients: fluff, language, alcohol use, sweet meet cute, no use of y/n
Meal: Andrew fluff and a meet cute.
Total: $11.82 = 1.1k words
Menu - Masterlist
It's hard to not feel out of place here, the corset in the last minute dress you bought cutting you off from taking a deep breath. It was jarring being in a room of such notable names and faces. Some of them being people you've looked up to for years. It was exciting and terrifying all at once and at this moment you needed a drink.
You never would've expected your first big Hollywood role to land you a ticket to the Oscars and you definitely didn't expect to also attend the after party with such big names. You hadn't necessarily won any awards tonight, merely a side character in a flick you had been lucky enough to be in. Yet your name now would always be attached to some of the awards the film did win and that made your skin tingle.
It's the very reason you can't help the smile that floats to your face as you wait beside the bar, in hopes of any kind of liquor to calm your nerves. The world is a blur around you, the chatter drowned out by the music playing, and your mind wandering to the happiness you felt at this very moment, oblivious to anything else.
“What can I get ya?” the bartender appears, breaking you from your trance. Smiling, you subconsciously lean forward to tell him your order softly. “Cosmopolitan-”
“And a Manhattan, put it on my tab,” a voice appeared beside you, an empty glass being set on the bar, and before you could protest the bartender had nodded and walked off to retrieve your drinks.
“You didn't have to do that,” you start, looking up to find brown eyes behind a set of glasses that had to have been made to be specifically worn by him. Andrew Garfield in all his glory stood before you. His stylist had done everyone a favor by dressing him in the chocolate brown suit hand picked to match his hair and eyes perfectly.
“I don't mind, it's not often I see a fresh face around here so I’m happy to do it,” he tells you and you gulp, a nervous hand reaching to grab a strand of your hair and twirl it around your finger.
“I’m-” you start to introduce yourself but he holds a hand up, cutting you off.
“I know who you are, I saw when you went up with your castmates to accept the award tonight. You were the only person on that stage that looked like it was the best thing to ever happen to you and they didn't even let you touch the damn thing,” he says and an embarrassed blush covers your cheeks.
“It was just surreal, something of my dreams. I’m not quite sure any of this is real yet,” you admit and Andrew smiles, seeing that spark every good young actor has in you. He had no doubts that pretty soon you'd be up there accepting an award meant only for yourself.
Before he could say anything, your drinks appeared in front of you, hands reaching out to take a sip in order to calm your nerves. Talking to someone such as Andrew was surreal enough. He continues to watch as he reaches for his own glass and with the newfound liquid courage you take control of the conversation.
“I saw you up there tonight too with Goldie Hawn, what's she like?” you whisper the last part, not wanting to sound like some insane fangirl, but it was the Goldie Hawn.
“Shes great, one of the sweetest ladies I've ever met,” he says and it's then you're reminded of the many other famous names and faces Andrew had worked with over the years, desperate to quiz him on every single one, and yet you keep yourself together.
“You’ve met so many cool people, I definitely do not belong here,” you mutter to him, not even considering the fact he was lumped into that group. He was Andrew Garflied for God sakes.
“You do belong, you just never really get used to it. Trust me,” he says, sipping from his own drink and there is something about those words that comforts you. You weren't sure what your next project would be, what side of the earth you'd end up on for the next five months, but the unknown future was thrilling.
“I don't know, you looked pretty natural up there,” you tell him and he chuckles like what you just said was a funny joke.
“It's my job to act natural, inside it was quite nerve wracking. Report back to me when you're announcing an award next,” he says and you giggle much harder than you probably should. You can't help the fact he's extremely charming and as good looking as he is. Plus out of everyone here for some reason he wanted to talk to you.
“Will do, maybe we’ll get lucky and announce together,” you say and he smiles, eyes shining directly at you. The look on his face almost makes your heart stop.
“Now that would be the dream,” he says and for a second a flash of shock crosses his face, almost like he hadn’t meant to say it outloud. The words make you blush but also the idea of being paired up with him in any way sounded like the ideal situation.
“I look forward to it, but I shouldn't keep you. I’m sure there are many people here who want to catch up with you,” you tell him, reaching for your drink again and trying to hide the sadness you feel at the idea of him leaving you behind. He had been in the industry much longer than you had, meaning there were more familiar faces for him than there were for you.
“If you don't mind I'd much prefer to spend the evening with you, in fact it's all I've been thinking about since I saw you earlier,” he admits and if you weren't red before then you definitely were now.
“I don't mind at all,” you sheepishly admit and he grins, lifting his drink from the bar before standing and offering his free hand to you. You look at it confused, eyes darting between his hand and his face, asking the question before it even leaves your mouth.
“What do you say, want me to introduce you to Goldie?” he asks and your eyes widen, the ice in your glass clinking against the sides as you begin to buzz with excitement.
“Absolutley!” You grin, sliding your hand into his own as you stand and both of you freeze, neither of you missing the way the world slowed as soon as you touched. Your heart doubled over in your chest and the man smiled softly at you.
“Let’s do it!” and just like that he’s guiding you in the direction of big stars who mingle over shared drinks and for the first time all night you felt like you had belonged. He made you feel like you belonged and a part of you knew this was just the beginning.
