#so sorry guys i drew this on my phone

[puppyspade]

im an artist for the usa and this is my art

[instarsanddyke]

pony posting

[sheepalmighty]

After playing this new DeltaChapter I looked back at my 2017-ish Undertale doodles (done on laptop or phone) when the hyperfixation took hold, thought they're not bad, and cleaned them up a little here and there to post. At this point I'm sure they're all drawings that have been explored by others before but I'm hoping this helps me to stop focusing on nothing but these games for a while at least.

Mainly a bunch of Sans and Papyrus drawings I liked and some pre-accident hc stuff under the cut:

[thatsadguymochi]

I found a height chart and drew some personas I use (I have too many for things I dont even use anymore ;-;)

[totalswag]

hii, I’m not sure if you take request still but if so is there a possible way you can do a drew x singer!reader one shot take on how Sabrina “arrests” her fans before performing Juno for being too hot but the reader does it to Drew during her shows please 🫶🏼

arrested for being too hot — DREW STARKEY

authors note THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING THIS!! my request box is still open so feel free to send me any ideas regarding singer!reader or regular fic ideas you’d like me to write. this was so much writing too. thank for all the love on my last fic lovies <3

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summary "arresting" drew, your boyfriend, during your show before performing your song from your new album.

warning(s) none!

You are on tour for your new album in-front of thousands of fans almost every night. You worked hard on this album and it turned out wonderfully. If it weren’t for the amazing fans of yours, you don’t know where you’d be in your career— they are the reason you are doing this.

Half way into the show— going amazing. The crowd tonight isn't disappointing you. Everything you've hoped for on this tour. You've performed eighteen songs and about to go onto your nineteenth. Played musical spin the bottle not long ago which was really fun.

Before Juno, you begin with a small "skit" where you call someone out in the crowd, arresting them for being too hot. This became a thing after your first show of the tour and doing it ever since. Plus, fans absolutely love it. Interacting with your fans has always been something you did and create those bonds.

Drew, your boyfriend, is attending the show with Madelyn Cline, a mutual friend and cast-mate of Drew's. You told him earlier today you wanted to arrest him in the middle of the show to get the audience excited and it would be fun.

Drew was all for it, and he didn't want you to tell him what you were going to say—he prefers surprises.

Your pink, glittering, dazzling clothing was sparkling in the lights. You pressed your free hand to your brow as though you were looking around for a call. With security, you could see Drew and Madelyn making their way to the front.

You begin by adjusting your earpiece while moving around the stage in your long skirt. "You guys know that moment when you are in a room filled with such beautiful looking people that you start to feel overwhelmed?" When fans applaud, you smile.

"Oh, girls, I think I just seen my future husband in the front row! Oh my god, girls, come here, come here," you say anxiously into the microphone, beckoning them over and waving your free hand.

You turn to face Drew as the girls approach you, asking, "Do you see that gorgeous looking man over in the front row with his arms crossed in the tan shirt?" You speak into the microphone aloud, pointing to Drew in the crowd.

Your girls joyfully waved at Drew while placing their hands on your shoulder. As Drew blushes on the big screen, the crowd reflexively turns up the volume in the arena. 

"What's your name handsome?" With your head cocked slightly to the right toward your shoulder, you inquire in jest. 

"Drew!" You can hear him when he places his hands on the side of his lips. He gives you a childlike smile and a flushed face.

You say, "I'm sorry I couldn't get that?" as though you couldn't hear him. Leaning forward more, you place your free hand behind your ear.

He shakes his head and utters "Drew!" a little louder. 

"Oh my Drew, I must say that you must be a magnet because you drew me in" brings a smile to your face. Your tone indicated that you were trying quite hard not to laugh, yet you kept your calm brilliantly.

Fans had their phones out, capturing the entire interaction. Nobody would have expected Drew to be the person arrested at your gigs since the tour began.

"Drew, you are under arrest for being too hot," you say aloud, smiling and pointing at him— fanning yourself, moving your hips side to side as the sound of sirens going off with blue and red lights behind.

You put your left elbow against your girls shoulder, "guys do you ever just see someone so good looking that you just don't know what to do and all your clothes fall off in that moment" your long skirt slips off smoothy.

"Like your brain just like malfunctions and like I just wanna handcuffed to you now like," one of your girls puts the pink fluffy handcuffs into your hand, you kneel down, "do you know what I mean? Will you take these from me?"

Drew is overwhelmed in this very moment— it's very obvious how much you are affecting him. Drew gives you a gimme me gesture with his fingers, ready to catch the hand cuffs.

He takes them in his hands, looks down, and feels the smooth texture of the fuzzy. He tilts his head to the side before slowly glancing up at you with a smirk—keep in mind that he's still on the big screen.

"We're gonna sing this one to you, Drew."

Juno's song intro starts playing. You wave goodbye to Drew and Madelyn as you return to the center of the stage. You could hear the two begin speaking to fans in the distance.

Drew and Madelyn met you in the dressing room following the show. After giving Madelyn a hug and thanking her for attending the event, you moved to approach Drew and put your arms around his neck while grinning.

"That was insane," Madelyn exclaimed, pulling you into a hug. "What about the full call-out and the handcuffs? Iconic! "You're the talk of the night; everyone is crazy about it."

You giggled as your face heated up. "It seemed right." "You should have seen his face!"

She laughs, "I got the whole thing on video, I'll send it to you later."

"I'm going to give you two some alone time, but you did such an amazing job tonight and looked so hot doing it," Madelyn adds, taking your hands in her and wiggling her brows. 

"Thank you, babe. I love you always," you say, hugging her before she leaves you and Drew alone. 

When you close the door, Drew comes behind you, placing his arms around your waist and kissing you on the cheek, making you laugh with the tenderness of his lips.

"I'm so proud of you baby, you did such an amazing job on stage and looked unbelievable in your outfits made me feel like the luckiest guy in the entire world." He expresses emotionally, which uplifts you. 

"Coming from you, it warms my heart baby. Forever grateful to have you in my life," you smile softly, leaning against his chest, feeling that sense of warmth you always feel whenever you are with him.

"And I'm forever grateful for you" he quietly responds, kissing the top of your head.

"So what are we gonna do with those pink fuzzy handcuffs?"

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[hearts4hughes]

Drew being interviewed by a very touchy/ flirty interviewer and they even ask if he would date them if it wasn’t for you at the end (req btw lol)

the interview starts innocent enough. he’s in a soft black sweater, sleeves pushed to his forearms, a thin gold ring on his right hand, turning slow circles as he listens. he nods and smiles smiles, says something about the script pulling him in, about working with good people. his voice is low, lazy—media trained mode.

and the interviewer? she’s eating it up. she’s laughing too hard, leaning in and pushing her plastic tits up. her eyes duck to his mouth a little too often. she asks about the movie and then his skincare routine and then, “okay, sorry, not to be that person, but…do you ever get tired of being so hot?”

drew blinks, raises his eyebrows, and tilts his head. he looks off to the side at his management team and they shrug with wide eyes. when he looks back to the interviewer, he merely laughs and says, “uh, i think you’ve got the wrong guy.”

“nope,” she grins, one leg crossing over the other. her shoe brushes his ankle like it’s an accident—it’s not. “definitely the right guy. your girlfriend must be, like, spiritually enlightened to handle it.”

he smiles, but it’s smaller now. a light blush dusts his cheekbones at your mention. “she is.” just three words, but his voice dips. there’s weight to it—pure love and admiration.

you know that tone. it’s the one he uses when he slides your shirt off slow, kisses your hipbone like it’s holy. it’s the one he uses when he’s madly in love and trying not to give it away.

the interviewer shifts and tries again. “so what’s the secret? to making it work?”

“respect,” he says. “and trust. and she’s smarter than me, so i kind of have to keep up.” his smile turns sideways. “it’s a full time job.”

the girl laughs. the noise is a little sharper this time. “you talk about her like,” she pauses to pout her lips, “she’s your religion.”

drew shrugs. “maybe she is.”

that gets a pause. a beat of air where her flirty bravado slips. but she recovers. swings her hair over one shoulder and grins wide. “okay, so be honest,” she purrs, faux casual. “if she didn’t exist…would you date me?”

camera’s rolling but the crew goes still. drew leans back in his chair. eyebrows up and mouth twitching. there’s a pause. like he’s weighing the humor of it versus the disrespect. and then he says, lightly, almost sweet, “nah.”

“no?” her grin falls into a frown.

he smiles, all teeth this time. wolfish and fond and dangerous. “you couldn’t handle me.” the girl blinks again. red fills her cheeks and this time it’s not from how attractive he is. “i’m serious,” he says. “you like the version of me that sits pretty and says nice things. she likes all the other versions. the messy ones. the ones that don’t make the press junkets.”

he looks into the camera like it’s you. like you’re already watching this and rolling your eyes at home. “she likes the real me. and that’s kind of rare, isn’t it?” he shrugs again, and just like that, the camera stops.

~

later, in the car, his phone buzzes with your text.

you: you couldn’t handle me??

he grins, fingers already typing back.

drew: you liked that and you know it.

drew: home in twenty.

drew: shirt off in twenty if you’re lucky.

you: 🙄

and then a selfie. you’re clad in a tank top and no bra—nipples peaking through like a tease of what’s to come. you’re smirking as you flip him off. his gold ring shimmers on your middle finger. he groans, one hand adjusting his pants, the other texting.

drew: yeah. you’re definitely my religion.

you: i’ll worship however you want

you: just promise to blacklist that interviewer

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[whorelaud]

loser!bf!rafe getting jealous after he discovers you have another man's name as your phone password warnings soft rafe, jealousy & tooth rotting fluff, wc; 747

“Hey, baby, can I borrow your phone for a moment?” Your boyfriend’s voice erupted through your ears, earning your attention as you adjusted the falsies around your eye, too accompanied with the action to acknowledge the boy hovering behind you, staring at you through the reflection of the mirror. 

“Mhm,” you cooed, lips parting with concentration. “It’s on the nightstand.” The boy nodded, instantly retrieving your phone from your side of the bed, approaching you once again, this time with the intention of unlocking it. He adjusted the device in front of your face, in an attempt to use face ID, his plan backfiring when your phone lit with the ‘password required’ screen.  

“What’s your password?” He clicked his teeth, leaning his weight against the desk, his figure filling the majority of your view. His fingers soared over the screen, while he patiently waited for you to finish applying your lashes. 

“Luvdrew,” you replied, causing the boy to come to a halt, his expression twisting with puzzlement. “But instead of the e, type in a three.” 

“Luvdrew?” He questioned, ridiculed by your response. “Who the fuck is Drew?” Your gaze shifted back to bim, dumbfounded by the bitterness seeping through his voice, confused by the sudden change in his tone. 

“Oh, Drew Starkey,” you continued, flashing him a smile, oblivious to how casual you were making the conversation seem, upsetting Rafe even more. “You’ve never heard of him? He used to be my celebrity crush.” 

“And you have him as your password? What, you think about him every time you unlock your phone?” His face fumed with annoyance, not failing to hide it as he clicked his teeth, tossing your phone back on the desk. “I don’t even want to use your phone anymore, let that Drew guy use it instead.” 

“What?!” You started, a soft chuckle knocking out of your chest, fully abandoning your makeup on the desk, attention fixing on Rafe, whose face expressed nothing but sulkiness. “Are you jealous?!” 

“No!” He spat back, eyebrows curling with frustration. “Why would I be jealous because you have another man’s name as your password, when you clearly have a boyfriend?!” 

“You are jealous.” You snickered, getting up from your seat. You leveled your face with Rafe’s, tilting his head with a hand to his chin. He avoided your gaze, brushing off the touch as he seized his head down in his lap, not giving in to your coy gesture. “Look at me, I’m sorry! I’ve had it for a while, before we even dated, I must’ve forgotten to change it. I’m sorry! He’s a literal celebrity, baby.” 

“Whatever,” he scoffed, resisting the hand engulfing the curve of his jaw. “Go be with Drew, maybe he’ll treat you better, since I’m not good enough for you.” 

“Rafe!” You shot back, surprised by his stubborn attitude. “Why are you acting like this, I’m sorry.” You pecked the corner of his lips, mimicking your action when he angled his head to the side, a silent invitation for you to continue kissing him. You littered open-mouthed kisses to his mouth, chest swelling with pride when the latter smiled, pressing his lips into a thin line to hold himself back from further giving into your compelling. “There you go, don’t sulk with me, you know I love you.”

“You’re ridiculous.” He mumbled in between kisses, lingering for a moment when you captured his lips in between your own, his moving over yours in an attempt to deepen it. His hands sneaked around your waist, sandwiching you with his legs to keep you in place. “I love you too, I guess.”

“You guess?” You shrugged, “I’ll change my password to luvrafe, there, are you happy?” You muttered, leaning your head back when Rafe chased after your lips, desperate to kiss you. 

“Yeah, yeah.” He rolled his eyes, hesitating to mutter his next statement. “So… is that Drew guy more attractive than me?”

“No,” you shook your head, “No one is more attractive than you, you’re the most handsome man on earth.”

“Oh?” He cocked his head to the side, amused by your response, seeking more of your attention. “What else?” 

“Oh, don't get cocky with me.” You teased, grinning from ear to ear. You tilted your head to the side, your next sentence an attempt to rile him up. “You know, I might’ve exaggerated, Drew’s an attractive g–”

“Fuck off!” He interrupted your sentence before you could further speak. “I’m done with you.” 

[vin-taege]

muse (m)

summary: Erik is having trouble sketching a design for a pin-up tattoo. No matter how many references he looked through, he just couldn't get the pose right. Luckily, his girlfriend is there to be his real-life model.

genre: fluff, smut

pairing: erik campbell x reader

CW: p in v, unprotected sex (stay safe irl!), spitting, choking, spanking, light degradation, light dumbification, pure filth, lowkey biting kink, erik is a bit of a sadist, aftercare!

words: ~4.4k

"I'm going to get carpal tunnel." Erik shook his wrist, the motion unable to contain the pain from his pinched veins. The house was empty, save for him and Bobby. The rest of the family went out for a grocery run, while the two of them were restricted either by college or by work.

"That's not good," Bobby grimaced, barely glancing up from his chemistry textbook. "You won't be able to jack off properly."

The blunt end of a rubber eraser hit the younger boy square in the head. Rubbing the sore spot, he shot a displeased look towards his 'attacker,' only to be met by a shit-eating grin. 

"Oops, it slipped."

Still feeling his brother's pointed glance, Erik let out an exaggerated sigh. "Okay, I'm sorry. I'm just stressed because Mark won't get off my ass for this project."

"Aren't you guys allowed to use reference sites?"

"Yeah, but I'd rather not slowly burn my eyes out of their sockets. Also, I think I’ve gone through every picture Pinterest has. The frat boy who wants this tattoo keeps asking for updates every thirty minutes and he’s busting my balls."

To say this specific tattoo design was kicking his ass was an understatement. Drawing was both the easiest and the hardest part. Erik was skilled enough to go from neo-traditional to realistic at the drop of a hat, but the amount of work it took—plus his shit working posture he swore he’d fix—was out to knock a few years off his life. The more he drew poses again and again, the sloppier they looked. He groaned in frustration, balling up another piece of paper.

"Why don't you ask ___ to model for you then?" Bobby picked up a highlighter, aggressively running it across what Erik estimated to be an entire paragraph. He almost didn't hear what Erik hastily mumbled under his breath. "What was that?"

"I don’t want her to feel conscious, okay?" Erik huffed. "Plus, I’d get a bit… distracted from drawing, and the whole point is to draw."

Bobby screwed his face in disgust. He shook the mental picture of whatever his brother and you do underneath bed covers and went back to focus on studying for his finals. What he didn’t know was that his off-handed suggestion truly stuck with Erik.

Erik tucked his pencil and graphite stick back into their case, carefully wrapping the latter in tissue to prevent it from making a mess. Even though he had an iPad, he still preferred to draw traditionally—one of his quirks you loved. He was so particular about small details like texture and shading control, loved the feel of wood rather than smooth metal.

He looked back at his phone, scrolling through his mess of a gallery. A mixture of personal pictures, pose references, playlist screenshots, and shitpost gathered under the “all photos” tab—not that he bothered to ever sort them into proper albums. He aimlessly scrolled, not exactly sure what he was looking for. Finally, he was hit with serendipity.

It was a picture from two weeks ago. He had been working late as the shop closer and texted you that he’d spend an extra hour over time. You had whined at him over a brief call, rightfully so, since he had planned for that night to be a movie night.

“Erik, I got all pretty just for you,” he could almost see your pout through the phone.

“You’re always pretty, baby.”

“That’s not my point!”

“I know,” he sighed. “I’m really sorry. I’ll make it up to you when I get there, okay?”

After a few more bouts of apologies and a reluctant “I love you,” that’s when he got the picture. You were kneeling in front of the mirror, your free arm planted on the ground. It pressed against your chest, making your cleavage more pronounced. In between your thighs, behind your hand, he could faintly see the shimmer of lace panties—the ones he picked out for you after you made him listen to the Brat album. The only thing covering you up was his favorite leather jacket, the thick fabric embracing your frame while still showing your silhouette.

And damn, all the memories of that night hit him once more. How he fucked you in his jacket, how breathy your voice got, pitching up when you were deep in subspace, how much you begged him to fill you up. He could feel his dick twitch in his pants.

“I need to go. You’d be fine here by yourself, right?” Erik hastily chucked his things in a ratty. leather satchel. You had gotten it for him three birthdays ago, and at this point, the leather’s got a bit of chafing, while the straps were filled with a row of button pins. Erik refused to use anything else to carry his things.

“Uh, where are you going? Mom and Dad are gonna come back soon for dinner. They texted, like, just ten minutes ago.” Bobby shifted from his position on the couch, moving to toss his textbook aside and catch up to Erik, but he had already gotten his boots on.

“I’m taking your advice.” Erik paused at the doorway, making eye contact with a confused Bobby. In a second, everything clicked for the younger sibling. He cringed, gritting his teeth together.

“Tell her I said hi, at least,” Bobby awkwardly waved at Erik, watching as he trudged off like a man on a mission.

────୨ৎ────

“Bobby says ‘hi,’” was the first thing Erik told you when you opened the door. You chuckled, both in confusion and surprise. Just this morning, Erik had texted you that he’d be preoccupied all day just trying to make a draft for that one client; some frat boy in an on-again-off-again relationship who wanted his girl as a pin-up on his thigh. Which is why you didn’t expect to see him at your door this evening.

He licked his lips at the sight of you. One of his old band tees hung around your frame, barely covering the top of your thighs. Black shorts peeked beneath the soft fabric. You moved to hug him, squeezing his body against yours.

“Kiki! I thought you forgot about me.”

You laughed as he rolled his eyes, the curve of a smile ghosting his lips. With one arm wrapped around you, he brought a hand to cup your face, leaning in to kiss you deeply. You could taste the faint menthol from the hard candies he substituted for cigarettes. He was trying to quit after promising you he’d take care of himself more.

He shifted to grip your jaw firmer, using your small gasp as an opportunity to slip his tongue in. You moaned quietly, feeling his jeans rub against your thighs. Just as you felt yourself getting wet, he pulled away, teasingly grinning at you.

“How could I ever forget my girl?”

Your cheeks heated up at the pet name. Shaking your head, you stepped aside to let him in and closed the front door.

Erik basically lived part-time at your apartment. He knew where you kept your cups and plates, memorized what brand of detergent you used, and knew just the right way to twist your shower knob so that the water was the perfect temperature. He plopped on his usual spot on your couch, with you following close by. He patted his lap, an invitation for you to take your favorite seat.

“How’s the pin-up job going?” you asked once you settled down. His hands automatically landed on your thighs. You took his satchel, digging around before you procured his sketchbook.

“It’s shit, babe. I’ve been getting artist’s block since that guy left the shop.” He watched quietly as your eyes scanned over his failed sketches. He never wanted to admit it, but a small part of him still felt nervous whenever you looked at his drawings. Subconsciously, his thumb traced small circles onto your skin. “I actually came here to ask you for help with something.”

“Mhmm?” you hummed, only half-listening to him. No matter how many times you viewed his sketchbook, you were always awe-struck. Erik’s shop was mainly known for piercings, but on the rare days he’s given a task of a tattoo job, he always kills it with his artistry. Strong shape language, vivid colors, fluid composition—he was such a ridiculously good artist.

“Baby?” Erik chuckled, bringing a hand up so he could swipe your lips with his thumb. You scrunched your face up in surprise, bringing your full attention back to him. “I said I wanted to ask if you could help me with this drawing.”

You smiled sheepishly. “And what exactly do you want me to do? Is this one of your brilliant plans?”

“It’s not a heist this time, I promise,” he snorted. He fell silent for a moment, an uncharacteristic beat of seriousness washing over him. He took a deep breath. “You can always say no to this, and I swear I wouldn’t mind. I just really need a burst of inspiration right now and I keep fucking up the poses. And then I figured… I have a smoking hot girlfriend…”

He trailed off, wiggling his eyebrows at you. You cocked your on brow, laughing in disbelief. “And what, you want to paint your ‘smoking hot girlfriend’ like a French girl?”

He chuckled, pulling you closer to him. He hooked his chin over your shoulder, craning his neck to plant a soft kiss beneath your ear. “Only if she lets me.”

“Hmm…” you pretended to mull it over. “Only if you ask politely.”

“Please, will you, the queen of my heart, model for me?” He widened his eyes slightly, working his charm through his baby blues. You could feel his fingers brush higher on your thigh, his nails catching the hem of your shorts. 

“Fine, pretty boy.”

“That’s my fucking girl.” He bit your shoulder lightly, making you yelp in surprise. You twisted your torso, smacking him lightly on his chest as he laughed. You got off his lap, moving to the smaller plush chair next to the sofa.

“How do you want me?”

“I’d normally say hands and knees.” You shot him a glare, met only by an unabashed grin. “But right now, just sit pretty on the edge there. Bring one leg in front of the other and bend it like—yeah, that’s perfect. Now put your… right hand on the couch and extend it.”

You let him pose your arms, making small tweaks in your position. His touches were light, though lingering. Your skin burned each time the pads of his fingers came into contact with you. When he was satisfied, he took a few steps back, cocking his head a little to the side to take you in. 

“Beautiful,” he whispered under his breath.

You giggled, eyes darting to your oversized shirt, then back to him. “Do you want me to take this off?”

Without waiting for an answer, you peeled the fabric off smoothly before returning to your static position. You shivered a little as the cold air hit your bare breasts. Erik’s jaw hung open, his eyes darkening. He closed his mouth, swallowing thickly. Going back to his spot on the couch, he leaned back, opening his thighs wide. He set the sketchbook on top of the leg, planted on the couch.

“Don’t move, doll. Can you handle that for a few minutes?”

“What if I accidentally squirmed a little?” you batted your eyelashes innocently.

He snickered. “I’ll make sure you’ll regret it then. Wouldn’t want me to bend you over for a spanking now, do you?”

You pressed your lips in a thin line, clenching around nothing. Wetness stuck to the fabric of your panties. You wanted to rub your thighs, grind on the couch, but Erik’s watchful eyes froze you to the spot. His gaze would flicker between you and the paper, silence taking over the living room except for the music he’s set in the background. 

Just from the first song, you recognized the playlist: Erik’s Witching Hour. Also belovedly known as his sex playlist.

Humming to the tune, you tried to distract yourself. Erik’s gaze was heavy on you, piercing into your soul. It wasn’t self-consciousness per se—it was yearning. The room felt hot, despite your nipples hardening from the cool air. Your clit throbbed, demanding to be touched underneath your slick-ruined underwear. You could faintly hear Erik’s pencil scratch against the paper.

It was after whole minutes of silent concentration that you decided to play with him a little. Leaning your head backwards, you stared at the ceiling in faux boredom. “Wait so… you’re going to put a picture of me on another guy’s skin?”

“Bring your head back down, doll. And no, not exactly. I wouldn’t put you on that asshole. I just need a feel for the pose.”

You rolled your eyes, listening to his request. For now. For another moment, none of you spoke until you started swinging your legs back and forth. “Yeah… I was thinking of how this complete stranger was going to have my body on his for what—the rest of his life? Didn’t know you were into that.”

His expression hardened, jaw tensing. He called your name out quietly, an edge present in his voice. “Stop moving.”

You raked your gaze over him, stopping at the seam of his jeans. His sketchbook covered his crotch, but you could see his knuckles turning white from how hard he gripped it. You bit your lip, swaying lightly from side to side. “The idea of it is hot, no? Like, I’m branding someone almost.”

He said your name again, voice firmer this time. “I’m giving you three seconds to shut up, and if you don’t, I’m not going to be gentle with what I’m gonna do next.”

Your eyes lit up. You were really winding him up now. If there’s anything Erik loves, it's always a good chase. 

“One.”

You spread your legs slowly, angling your hips down to the chair.

“Two.”

Erik had already set his pencil on the table. He leaned forward, bringing both feet to the ground, eyes burning into yours. You could practically see the outline of his cock through his jeans now.

“Three?” you finished for him, rocking your hips slightly. Your thighs tensed as your clit finally met its sought-after friction. Without another word, Erik made his way to you with two big strides. You grinned at him as you felt a hand on your throat, fingers roughly pressing into the points of your jaw.

“Just can’t fucking help yourself, huh?” he whispered. He ran his thumb over your mouth, parting your lips. You suckled on his digit, twirling your tongue around him. He slipped his other hand underneath your shorts, tracing your slit through your panties. He groaned, feeling how soaked you were. “Have you been this wet since we started? Is that why you’re so fucking needy?”

You nodded, hips chasing after his touch when he brought his hand away. His thumb pressed down on your tongue, prying your jaw open. He leaned over, spitting into your mouth. He let your jaw go, watching with hunger as you immediately swallowed.

“I was just… curious about your work?” It came out more as a question. You bit your lip, trying to prevent the smile from spreading on your face. Erik narrowed his eyes at you.

Two firm hands gripped your waist, pulling you up and spinning you around. You felt pressure on the back of your knee, making it bend. Erik pressed a hand on your lower back, forcing an arch. You were kneeling on the sofa now, hands stabilizing yourself on the backrest. He grabbed the hem of your shorts, almost tearing the fabric as he yanked them down your thighs, alongside your panties. He took a moment to take in your wetness staining the black lace, before bringing his eyes to your dripping cunt.

“Are these the ones I got for you?” He ran a finger through your slit, collecting your fluids. He brought it to his lips, groaning deeply when he tasted you.

“My favorite,” you wiggled your ass. Immediately, you felt your left cheek sting, hearing the sharp smack first. Your mouth dropped in a silent moan—too shocked for any sound to come out.

“I’ll teach you a thing about branding,” Erik said, winding up his arm before bringing his palm down on your right ass. He watched the flesh jiggle, waiting for the redness to spread on your skin. He spanked you again, letting his fingers catch on your cunt. You squeezed your eyes shut, yelping in both pain and pleasure. “Since you seem to like it so much, I’ll make an example out of you.”

You bit your lip, too stubborn to let him hear you moan. Your nails dug into the couch as you took blow by blow. The skin was stinging, made worse when you felt the tip of Erik’s nail on the swell of your eyes. A whimper left your lips as he carved a crooked “E” on your flesh. The skin puffed slightly, making the letter even more visible. 

“You’re getting off this, you little freak,” he chuckled breathlessly. You panted, rocking back and forth as he wound circles around your clit. “You’re so fucking wet and I haven’t even gotten my cock out.”

“Fuck you,” you rasped out, trying to force more friction. His touch was light, teasing. You were about to turn your head back to spout more swears at him, when you felt a sharp smack against your cunt. You let out a strangled cry, bringing your thighs together.

“Oh, did that hurt? Poor baby,” he mocked you, forcing your thighs apart with his hands. Two fingers rubbed your slit up and down, barely dipping into you. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“Erik.” His name came out as a breathy whine. “Stop teasing.”

“Only if you ask politely,” he mimicked your words from earlier.

You groaned, throwing your head back in frustration. “Erik, please just fucking put them in already! I need your fingers so bad, baby, please. Please—fuck!”

You inhaled sharply as Erik slipped his fingers knuckle-deep into your cunt. He brought them back and forth, angling his hand until he hit the spot that made you see stars. Your breath stuttered, arms almost giving out. Erik snaked his other hand onto your neck, fingers pressing lightly against your throat. He guided you forward, letting the backrest hit your collarbones, your arms bent on top of it.

“Yeah, that’s it.” His voice mixed with the playlist and the squelching noises your cunt made. Each push of his fingers made you tense more, a coil winding up in your stomach. Your mind was clouded, taken over only by his scent, his touch, his voice. Your eyelids fluttered, sinful moans loudly leaving your lips.

“You’re gonna be a good doll and fucking follow orders this time.” He was bent over you, whispering harshly into your ear. He caught the bottom of your lobe, grinding it in between his teeth. Tears sprang from the corners of your eyes, a broken moan wretching its way out of your throat. “I know you’re getting close. You’re gonna make a mess all over my fingers, then you’re gonna kneel all pretty there and take it like a good girl when I fuck you, okay?”

You nodded your head, too lost in the pleasure to think properly. He let go of your throat, grabbing a fistful of your hair instead to yank your head back. “Can you talk to me, or are you too fucking dumb right now?”

“Erik, p-please. Yes, please fuck me, please let me cum, p-please,” you stuttered out, yelling as your orgasm hit you. You ground back into his palm, shaking as more slick gushed out of you. He continued to pump his fingers, slowing his pace as you rode out your high.

Taking big gulps of air, you placed your head on the chair’s backrest, thighs still trembling. You could faintly hear the clinking of his belt, followed by heavy fabric falling down. Your breath caught in your throat when you felt the cool tip of his prince albert poke slip in between your folds. “W-wait, Erik—”

“What’s your color, doll?” he murmured against your back, pressing soft kisses up your spine. He stopped the trail at your shoulder, biting and suckling on the skin until it bruised. You can’t imagine how much more marks your hips and ass had. He waited patiently for your answer, rubbing your waist soothingly.

You finally managed to catch your breath. “G-green.”

“That’s a good girl,” you could feel him smirk. He pressed a kiss on the crook of your neck, then entered you in one fluid motion. You let out a broken cry, feeling his piercing brush against your cervix. He stayed buried to the hilt, grinding his cock impossibly deeper into you.

“P-please,” you begged him. His hand found its way place back on your neck, fingers carefully placed so that he wouldn’t be pressing down on your windpipe. He gripped your hips firmly. Once he was satisfied with his position, he thursted into you. Slowly, cruelly.

He pulled out, leaving only the tip in, before pressing flush against your ass. You gasped each time, his cock expertly nailing your g-spot. Erik grunted, breathing heavily each time he thrust into you. Your cunt clenched tightly around him, greedily taking in his thick cock. No matter how many times you fucked, the delicious stretch always surprised you.

Erik could feel you getting close again. Your uneven breathing, how tight you had curled your toes, the steady stream of moans spilling from your lips—half of them profanities while the rest was his name. “Does my doll want to cum again?”

“M-mhhmm,” you gasped in between moans.

“Gotta do better than that, doll.” He applied light pressure to your throat, starting to quicken his pace. 

“C-cum! Erik, w-wanna cum, fu-fuck—please!” you mewled, barely hearing him give you permission. For a second, you blacked out, cunt spasming around his cock. Your mouth opened in a silent yell, moans caught in the throat he held. Your body went slack, drained by the powerful orgasm he forced out of you. The only things holding you up were his hands on your neck and hips. He used your body as leverage, pulling you into him as he snapped his hips.

Erik kept thrusting into you, following an animalistic rhythm. He plowed on, making the sofa creak, lightly bumping your cheek into the upholstery each time he bottomed out. You were barely coherent—the only thing you knew was that you felt so fucking good. Small ungh, ungh, ungh’s, was the only thing you were capable of saying. 

“Look at you. See, you could listen for once. Staying still like a pretty doll while I use you. You’re such a good girl. You’re gonna let me fill you up, won’t you, doll?” He moaned, voice breaking towards the end. His thrusts were getting sloppier, shallower. He was getting off on his words as much as you were. It always turned him on how fast he could reduce you to a mindless mess, cock-drunk, eyes glazed over.

“Y-yes, please,” you squeaked, voice already raw. He snickered lightly, moaning wantonly behind you, already starting to lose control.

“That’s my good girl. Good fucking slut,” he growled, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. Hot spurts of cum painted your walls, Erik grinding slowly into you, coaxing more of his seed to spill out. You clamped down on him, cumming for the third time as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. After milking himself in your cunt, he stilled, draping his body over yours, pulling you close.

He hooked his chin over your shoulder, pressing soothing kisses on your cheek and neck. When your breathing went back to normal, he slowly pulled out. You sighed at the emptiness, clenching as his cum dripped out of your spent cunt. He stared for a moment, entranced by the mixture of fluids. His focused snapped back to you when you groaned, limbs already sore.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he whispered. He took you into his arms, gently lying down on the larger couch with you on top of him. He ran his fingers through your hair, lightly scratching your scalp. You hummed in contentment, feeling so so tired but also so full.

“You did so well for me. You’re always so good to me, baby.” His voice took a softer lilt, always the polar opposite after rough sessions. His touch felt warmer, lighter, more afraid to break you. “You can go to sleep if you want, okay? I’ll be here.”

With his reassurance, you let your eyes flutter shut. It didn’t take long for you to doze off, cheek pressed against his chest. He kept on playing with your hair and drumming his fingers against the base of your spine. He only stopped once he was sure you were deep into your slumber. 

────୨ৎ────

You woke up in your bed, way past dinner.

Bleary-eyed, the first thing you saw was Erik sitting by your desk, his back turned to you. You glanced down at yourself, discovering that you’ve been dressed in fresh clothes—one of your sleep tees and the boxers you stole from him. You stretched your limbs, wincing at the slight soreness in your lower half. Erik turned to you, hearing the rustling of your covers.

“Hey,” he smiled softly. You patted the empty space next to you, pouting at him. Your stomach grumbled, but you could hardly care. You just needed him close.

He climbed into bed, taking his place next to you under the covers. “You gonna stop being an asshole now?”

You snorted loudly, laughter like tinkling bells in his ears. He watched fondly as your eyes scrunched up. “Hello to you, too.”

“Sit up and drink some water, okay?” He took the glass placed on your nightstand, bringing it to your lips. You gladly accepted, the water quenching your parched throat. “I’ll order some takeout for a late, late dinner.”

“Did I get to help with the tattoo?” you murmured, still drowsy.

“I think I got it down, baby,” he smirked, pecking your lips. He wasn’t going to tell you that he never got a proper sketch because he kept staring at your tits. To his merit, he did try, but just got so distracted. It was going to be a problem for future Erik. Presently, Erik just wants to eat takeout and be with you. 

[tttabii]

── 박종성 HERE ALL ALONG ; PARK JONG-SEONG

pairing୭ football captain! jay x dancer! reader

word count: 4331 ; jay is also in a band and plays the electric guitar, reader has a boyfriend, fluff. taesan and jaehyun from bnd mentioned.

YOU WERE THE STAR OF YOU SCHOOL'S dance team—graceful, confident, loved by every single person lucky enough to know your name. It wasn't just your talent that drew people in, but your essence. So naturally when Jay saw you first, at the pep rally, gliding across the gym floor like it was your stage, he was hooked.

He had it bad.

This man did not fall easily for anyone. Jay was the school's golden boy—guitar player, lead singer of a local band, football team captain, sharp jawline, quiet but devastating charm. He wasn't the type to crush easily, but something about you made him fall hard.

Then he found out you were dating Taesan.

Of course it was Taesan. Smooth talking, perfect hair, cocky basketball captain, with a small army of cheerleaders ready to jump whenever he said jump. Which made him loathe to see Taesan hang his arm around your waist, the way he'd press a kiss to your cheek so casually, like he didn't realize just how lucky he was.

Or maybe he did—which was what made Jay even angrier.

Jay had only confessed once. Just once. But you had sweetly said no, you already have a boyfriend. Which cut him deeper than he would ever let on. Who did he think he was? Just some guy with a guitar who had a crush bigger than his heart.

But what hurt more was that Jay remembered something, a conversation you had with Jake when things were still casual with you and Taesan. You had gone through a list of what your ideal type was—could sing, could play electric guitar, athletic but shy, a good cook, gentle but assertive, you had even laughed when you said "A guy who can kiss well wouldn't hurt either,".

Jake had told Jay all of that.

Jay was all of that.

And maybe you didn't know this then, but you were describing him, not Taesan.So he waited. He watched you from afar, and clenched his teeth every time Taesan kissed you. He could treat you better than he ever could. Love you better than he ever could.

It wasn't about popularity—he didn't need it. He just wanted you.

One day, Taesan brought you a coffee before practice. You smiled, thanked him, but the taste didn't sit right anymore. Recently you had been unable to stomach coffee. Not when you'd grown so fond of the comforting experience of oolong tea–that mysterious oolong tea that just sat on your desk every morning. You always wondered who it came from.

Until, one day, you noticed the little note tucked under the bottle: "From your secret admirer ;)"

You smiled to yourself, your heart fluttering just a little bit. You didn't know who it was from, but the feeling behind it was warm, considerate, and oddly familiar. You didn't think much of it—just a cute admirer wanting to make your day.

You had no idea it was Jay. And he was still willing to fight for your love.

           ૮₍˃ ⤙˂ ₎ა

Another long evening at 1009 Studio, the mirrors fogged from the level of movement and intensity. You wiped the sweat from your forehead; your body still buzzing from the high of practice. The bass of the latest K-pop track still pulsing through your head as you threw your stuff into your bag and waved to a few dancers heading out.  

You swung open the studio door and stopped short—rain. Seriously, rain. Because this wasn't just rain; it was torrenting rain. The kind of rain that drenches the pavement in a matter of seconds. With a big sigh, you pulled your phone from your pocket and called the one person you were hoping would rescue you from being soaked.

"Taesan," you said when he picked up. "Can you get me?"

"My car is in the shop, babe. Can't you just grab a cab or something?"

You bit the inside of your cheek. "I forgot my wallet back at the dorm."

Silence. And then a distracted, "Sorry, I can't help right now," and the line went dead.

You frowned at your screen in disbelief before shoving it into your hoodie pocket—and sighed again. Of course. You considered running for it. It was going to be a pretty miserable walk. The dorms weren't super close—it was 5 minutes by car. But what else could you do?

Then, as if in a really cheesy twist of fate, someone called your name.

"Y/n?"

Turning your head, you saw a familiar figure walking toward you, an umbrella in one hand and a cold caramel frappuccino in the other.

Jay.

He looked surprised—but happy—to see you. "What are you doing out here?"

You let out a sheepish laugh, shifting your bag over your shoulder. "Practicing. I'm here most evenings."

Jay glanced at the rain behind you, and then back to you. "Do you need a ride?"

You shook your head politely. "It's fine, I'll figure it out-"

"It's pouring," he interrupted, stepping in closer, eyes gentle. "C'mon. I'll just drop you off. I'm not trying anything, I promise."

There was a kindness in his voice you weren't used to. Not the kind that some guys back at school use to impress you, though. You lingered for a second longer before nodding. "Okay. Thanks."

His car—a slick black BMW—was parked just around the corner. The inside smelled of cologne and rain, which was a pleasant change. The seats were soft and warm, especially compared to the cold leather in Taesan's flashy ride.

You sank into the passenger seat, and quietly buckled yourself in, still feeling a little strange. After all, you had recently rejected him, and here you were—wet and in need—and he was still offering solace. Jay drove in silence at first, the slight hum of the rain filled the space between you.  

You caught a glimpse of the caramel drink resting in the cupholder, and looked maybe a little too long. Your throat was parched, and now the mere thought of sweet was causing your mouth to slightly water.

Fortunately for you, Jay caught your gaze and smiled to himself."You want it?" he asked nonchalantly.

Your eyes widened. "No—I mean—uh, you already drank from it. I can't-"

"It's fine," he said, nudging it toward your side. "I don't mind."

There was something about the way he said it. Like he noticed you needed something and didn't think twice about offering it.You hesitated even longer before taking a small sip.

It was your favourite: exactly how you like it, sweet and smooth. You honestly hadn't realized how badly you needed something warm and familiar until that moment.

"...Thank you," you said quietly, meeting his eyes.

Jay glanced over at you, one hand on the wheel and a faint smile on his lips. "Anytime."

The following morning, your desk was no longer bare.

A beautifully wrapped caramel cookie—your favorite from the little bakery downtown—was plopped in the middle. Underneath, another note:"For the girl with the sweet tooth and softest smile. – Secret admirer ;)"

Your brows furrowed together. You looked around the room, but the early morning light streamed through mostly empty seats. Nobody seemed to be watching you, and no one was close enough to have just dropped it.This wasn't the first gift, and it was starting to get... personal.

Whoever it was, they had some knowledge about you. Your drink preferences, your favorite bakery. Things that you didn't exactly scream to the world.

You took a slow bite, savoring the cookie while letting your mind reluctantly drift to yesterday—to Jay. To how he held the umbrella just right to keep you dry. The way his voice had warmth, and the way his eyes softened when he told you it was okay to take the drink.

You blinked and shook your head, cheeks on fire.

No, you weren't cheating. You just shared a drink. There was nothing to it.But the more you thought about it, the more your chest ached.

Taesan didn't even bother looking. Didn't call a cab, not a friend's ride, nothing. Just dismissed you, and then literally left you there standing in the rain as if you weren't even worth it.And then Jay came—someone who didn't owe you anything for, but still arrived exactly when you needed someone the most.

You were still chewing on the cookie when the classroom door opened again. You looked up. Taesan.

He walked in like he owned the place, varsity jacket draped over what just looked like his shoulder. Although he was casually walking in; he was tense, and there was something sharp in his eyes as glared at the note, then the half-eaten cookie in your hand.

"You're actually going to eat that?" he said, voice low but stupid sharp.

You blinked. "What?"

"One of my buddies saw you getting in a car with Jay yesterday, Jaehyun. Said it was a black BMW remember? That's his car right?" His voice was growing sharper, and bitter. "What the hell, Y/N?"

You got out of your chair with your eyebrows scrunched. "I called you, but it was raining and I had no wallet, and you told me to figure it out. Jay was just around! He was just giving me a ride!"

"Right," laughed Taesan, moving in closer to you with his combination of concern and sarcasm. "The guy that confessed to you? The idiot you rejected, and he was just being nice? Come on, Y/N. Do you think I am stupid?"

A few of your classmates streamed in, stopping right in their tracks at the palpable tension between you both.You crossed your arms. "Maybe if you been there for me, it never would have happened."

"That guy is obviously just trying to get in your pants like every guy that's drooling over you."

You stared back at him, hurt. "What makes you better than them then? Huh? What if you're just trying to do the same thing, Taesan?"

Silence. That one question was like a jolt of lightning in the air, even enough for a few of them to be caught in the passenger seat walking to class. Someone in the back softly said something and caused a gasp from someone next to them.

His jaw clenched. "Baby, you know I'm not like them..." Except this time his tone wasn't freestyle warm. It was tired. It was defensive. It was weak.

You swallowed thickly. "Then maybe start acting like it."

Your words weren't yelled. You didn't need to raise your voice to make the room feel colder than it already was. The silence between you stretched out. Everyone around was quiet, eyes darting between you both.

And somewhere, just outside the classroom door, Sunghoon stood with his hands in his pockets, having just passed the cookie on Jay's behalf minutes earlier. He heard every word. And he couldn't wait to tell Jay the gossip.

When Taesan stormed out of the classroom, his shoulders tense with unspoken rage, all eyes slowly shifted to you. But you didn't even flinch.

You slid back into your seat, pulled your laptop back toward you, and took another measured bite of your cookie. The sweetness tasted like a cruel joke to the bitterness still churning in your chest.  

You could feel the weight of their scrutiny like needles. You lifted your head slowly, narrowed your eyes. "What? Never seen two people argue before?"  

That quieted them. 

It had a completely different tone, the tone you normally used to approach them. It was sharp, edged, cold. And that's what turned their eyes away. They were not used to that side of you—the one who didn't play nice. You took a deep breath and turned your attention back to your screen, trying to still your fingers which were shaking slightly.

The words on the keyboard morphed for a moment. Maybe it was frustration. Maybe because you were just exhausted-tired of everyone's idealization of you, to just be prodded and ripped apart for a misstep.  

Sunghoon practically sprinted across campus the second the break bell rang. Jake barely had time to open his energy drink before Sunghoon skidded to a stop in front of him and Jay, eyes wide.

"Dude. You're not going to believe what just happened."

Jay, who was just lounging on a lifted bench outside, raised his eyes from his phone. "What?"

"Y/n and Taesan. Huge fight. In class."

Jake raised an eyebrow. "For real?"

"For real," Sunghoon nodded. "Whole room heard it. They brought you up too, Jay. Apparently, Jaehyun snitched about your car."

Jay blinked. "Me?"

"Yeah, people are talking, like, crazy," Sunghoon added as he laboured to catch his breath.

"Football captain vs basketball captain, over the girl that everyone lowkey has a crush on." Jake whistled low. "Damn. I thought we would have a peaceful lunch break."

Jay didn't say anything for a moment, glanced down at his drink, his expression was unreadable. Sunghoon nudged him. "Come on man. You're her secret admirer. Cookies today, oolong tea the entire week, you're literally halfway from being the leading character in a campus drama."

Jay gave a small chuckle, as he shook his head slowly. "I'm not trying to steal her," he said plainly, his eyes calm, but the sincerity in his voice was striking. "But if things ever end with him... I just wanted her to know there is someone out there who treats her better."

When break finally came around, you had snapped. 

The whispers followed you like shadows. Girls who used to smile at you with fake sweetness were now watching you with smugness, as if hoping your relationship was falling apart so they could slide into Taesan's life.

The boys had given you space earlier, now they were hanging around a little bit longer in the hallways. Smirks. Flirty comments. Trying to create their own opportunity just because they heard that you had some kind of fight.

The worst part were the gossip vultures—those who didn't want either of you, but just lived for the chance to watch other people fall apart so they had juicy bits to share. You were done with it.

As you walked past a group of girls who were loud in their whispers by your locker, you didn't even hesitate. "Maybe you all can try focusing on your own love lives before worrying about mine. Oh wait—all you can worry about is that none of you have one." 

They all went silent, shocked. You didn't even turn your head. You were finished being the sweet girl for them to play with. 

You made your way to the cafe just off campus, needing a moment away from the stifling gossip and your own tumultuous thoughts. The jingle of the bell above the door rang softly as you stepped inside—and your gaze immediately went to them.

Jay, Sunghoon, and Jake were tucked in the back booth—the best light, the cozy window where you always sat. The three of them were talking, laughing quietly about something you didn't catch until you walked in, after which Jake effortlessly brought up football, and Jay reclined, glancing your way once then just as quickly looking away. Too quickly.

You made your way to the counter, got your drink, and paused for a moment before walking over. "Hey," you said, sounding more lighthearted than you felt, "is it ok if I sit here? This is sorta... my spot."

Sunghoon was the first to smile. "Would've been rude not to offer."

Jake adjusted and gave you a bit of space. "You're basically part of the team now," he teased.

You slid in beside Jay, your shoulder brushing his for just a second as you got settled. The air felt strangely calm around them—not charged or performative like it always did when you were with Taesan and his crowd.  

They were surprisingly funny, bouncing off each other with a rhythm that made you laugh without thinking. Sunghoon made dry comments under his breath, Jake was dramatic with everything, and Jay... Jay had this quiet wit, that low kind of sarcasm you didn't expect to enjoy so much.

But every once in a while, you would find Jay's stare lingering just a little longer. You weren't bothered. You knew about his crush—everyone basically did—but you weren't sure if he still had it. And to be honest, you didn't feel like figuring that out just yet.

You began to get into the conversation as the topics turned lighter. Jake mentioned dogs—of course he did—and Sunghoon jumped in with stories about his excessively spoiled French poodle, Gaeul.

Jake proudly looked for a picture of his golden retriever, Layla, and you couldn't help but grin as he got lost in the details like a proud dad. You got to chime in, too, about Wonie, your little Pomeranian, who acts like she's royalty.

"She essentially owns my apartment," you said, smiling. "She'll bark at me if I don't fluff her blanket exactly like she likes it."

Jay was just listening with a little grin, still pretty quiet, as usual. But he was totally engaged—his eyes darting around with interest, as if he were cataloging every single part of it. 

You can't deny it felt different. Talking about animals with Taesan was hardly a conversation. Taesan would roll his eyes, say things like, "Why waste my time on this?" or "You should go to this party instead."

 And yeah, Jay had a reputation too—he had that edge to him, that kind of bad boy charm people whispered about—but somehow... his attention didn't feel like a game.

Not the way it did with Taesan.

You were still in a fit of laughter on something Jake said when you caught Jay again looking at you from the corner of your eyes. It was not as intense, but it was still warm. Like Jay was slowly soaking up all your pieces.

           ૮₍˃ ⤙˂ ₎ა

Things between you and Taesan had been dry for weeks now.

Hardly even a conversation. Hardly even a text. The most you got was a kiss on the cheek, and even that required him to remember to do it. Not even that.

Still—you made it to his game. You weren't sure why. Maybe it was habit. Maybe it was the hope of feeling as you used to. Jay was in the crowd too, a few rows below you, but he didn't say anything. You didn't say anything either. You clapped a bit when the game ended.

Taesan's team won. He celebrated like everything was normal, jumping and yelling with an arm over that girl best friend who he always said not to worry about. She was hugging him like it was a normal thing. You didn't wait for the team to come off the court.

You stood and left the bleachers while the crowd cheered you were over. Too loud. Too fake. You wanted to go back to your dorm and crawl into your bed.  

On the way out, you paused by the vending machine. You dug out a few coins from your coat pocket and, for no reason other than lack of thinking, pressed the button for oolong tea. You'D grown used to it. You didn't even drink it that much before—but now? Your dorm was filled with thermal bottles of it. Neatly left on your desk almost every morning. Whoever it was didn't care about money clearly, or boundaries.

And yeah, you might have had a good idea of who it was. Maybe Jay. But you weren't entirely positive.

He was next to you right as the bottle dropped into the tray. You didn't say anything right away. Just took it and leaned on the vending machine. "I knew I should've just stayed in tonight," you said quietly.

Jay didn't say anything. Just looked over at you. You were about to say something else when Jake came rushing over from the main building.

His face was off. "Yo. You guys—listen. I saw it."

You turned to him. "Saw what?"

"Taesan kissed her. The cheerleader. Full on. Right on the court."

You stared at him for a second. And then breathed out a little. "Right," you said. "Of course he did."

By that point, it wasn't even heartbreak. Just that quiet, numbing disappointment that you knew was coming. It still stung though. He couldn't have at least waited? But no. He had to make it loud. He had to make it... public.

Jay ran a hand through his hair, jaw tight. "He's dead."

"I'm over it," you lied. "I'm just tired."

Except Jay clearly wasn't over it.

Because the next morning, as you walked out of class with Jake, you saw Taesan standing by the hallway, waiting. Probably to explain. Probably to lie again.

And Jay was already heading toward him before you could say a word.

The second Taesan opened his mouth, Jay swung the first punch. Hard. Fist into Taesan's jaw. Taesan stumbled, and that's when he swung back.

Shit was chaotic in the hallway. People were backing up. A few were screaming. Others were recording. You stood frozen watching them throw punches, neither of them backing down. Jay was furious. You have never seen him like this, completely out of it.

Jay had Taesan on the floor, his jacket already off, black tank top already showing, flexing muscles with every shove he threw. You honestly didn't think he would hear you above everything. Until you grabbed his arm.

Instantly, Jay's body stopped moving. He looked at you; eyes wild, breathing fast. His face shifted. The aggression had evaporated like he suddenly forgot where he was. Who he was battling with. "Jay... stop," you said softly. 

Then Taesan, still on the ground, looked up and laughed. "Figures," he spat. "You're just a whore and a cheater."

You didn't flinch. "Says you," you shot back, voice sharp. "Who kissed the girl he told me NOT to worry about. In front of the whole damn court."  

"Come on. Let's go before I punch that guy too," you muttered under your breath, tugging at Jay's arm before things escalated even more.

He didn't even fight you, just pulled away from the crowd. The hallway was still buzzing, people whispering, head down as some stared at their phones like they already posted it. Most were on your side.

They witnessed the kiss. They saw Taesan act like he didn't have someone in the stands waiting on him. His reputation was literally blowing up—and it wasn't just among the students.

Word was spreading the basketball coach, who always had a weakness for you, said Taesan was done. Blacklisted. The team didn't want that kind of drama slowing them down.

Jay had a bruised hand. His knuckles were red and raw from the punches he threw, and you didn't notice until you stopped moving. "Give me that," you said, taking Jay's hand.

He blinked. "What?"

"Your hand, dummy."

You dragged him straight to the infirmary. Jake showed up halfway through, tossing Jay's bag onto the chair before shooting him a look like dumbass, I told you not to punch him but also I'm proud of you.

Inside the bag, tucked into the side pocket, was the same thermal bottle you kept waking up to on your desk.

You chuckled softly as you picked it up. "So it's you, huh? My secret admirer?"

Jay was sitting on the edge of the cot, still cooling from the fight, and as you looked up, caught him already checking you out. "You caught me," he said, his voice a little raspy.

You smiled at him, holding his hand as you cleaned up the cut on his cheek. Then, without thinking, you took his hand and placed it in your lap, as you took care of his bruised knuckles. His hand became still at the sudden warmth.

"Damn," he mumbled, looking down at your lap. "You really put my hand there, huh?"

"You were bleeding," you said, casually, trying to hide your smile. You could tell he was a little flustered.

His ears were slightly pink. "I guess I was a little blind," you said softly. "Clearly you were my type. Jake said so last night. He texted me. Said I ought to open my eyes."

Jay leaned his head back slightly. "So you finally listened to Jake for once?"

"Yeah. It just took one fight and some bruised knuckles."

Things changed after that. 

He started being around you more. He walked you to class. You sat by him, Sunghoon and Jake at lunch. Everything felt different—more calm, better. Like something was happening. You were healing.

He took you to this tiny dog café one weekend. You spent the whole time petting every dog that was in the café, petting them and ruffling their fur, making a super soft voice all the while saying "good boy." Jay just watched you as if you had him under a spell.

Every time you laughed, he felt the tightening in his chest.

"I'm falling," he whispered to Jake.

Jake looked at him and smirked. "Bro, you fell the moment you said you'll be making her oolong tea everyday."

After football practice one afternoon, you walked over to him just as he wiped the sweat off the back of his neck with a towel. He naturally looked up when he felt the approaching footsteps, and he smiled very little when he saw who was looking at him.

"You should have made your move on me before Taesan did, you know," you said.

Jay chuckled. "Maybe I'm just shy."

"Aww," you teased. "Didn't take you to be a shy guy."

"Shut up," he replied, tossing the towel from his other shoulder and lightly slinging it over his shoulder. "You should have opened your eyes and seen I was clearly your type. I could treat you so much better."

He flexed his bicep slightly as he said it. You flushed.

"Shut up," you muttered, turning away with a grin.

"Oh, I heard from Jake you like guys who can kiss well," he said casually, dropping his voice a bit. "And I'm right here, baby."

Jay leaned in, cupping your cheeks before pulling you into a slow, deliberate kiss. the kind that made your breath catch a little. Sunghoon let out a low whistle. Jake coughed, "Jesus—get a room."

Someone from the team yelled, "Okay lover boy, bag her already!"

You just smirked against his lips, kissing him again like you weren't planning to stop anytime soon.

[rafesbuzzcutseason]

wicked game

chapter 5 - fucking frat boys

synopsis: y/n is sarah’s roommate and the embodiment of sunshine. rafe, on the other hand, is her complete opposite. when the boys place a bet that he can't win her over, rafe takes the challenge without hesitation. after all, he never backs down from a dare. the closer rafe gets to y/n, he finds himself drawn to her warmth in a way he never expected, and for the first time, he wants to be more than just the guy with a bad reputation.

but secrets don’t stay hidden for long, and when y/n finds out the truth, rafe is left to face the consequences. now, he has to prove that somewhere along the way, the bet stopped mattering, because losing her was never part of the plan.

masterlist

cw: language

"nope," you mumbled to yourself, refreshing the screen just to make sure you weren’t seeing things. but there it was. his profile, profile pic and all. rafe cameron had just followed you.

you stared at it for a moment, torn between laughing and screaming. sarah clocked your expression instantly "what’s with the face?"

you turned your phone around. "your brother just followed me."

her eyes went wide, "what?"

"yeah. like, literally just now."

sarah’s brows drew together, suspicion immediately flaring behind her eyes. "that’s… weird. rafe doesn’t follow people he doesn’t care about. or isn’t planning to piss off."

you frowned, "how comforting."

she sat down beside you, scrolling through her phone. "maybe he’s trying to apologise for being a dick last night?"

you gave her a look. "he didn’t look sorry. he looked entertained."

sarah hesitated for a second too long before answering. "yeah… i don’t know. maybe he’s just being nosy."

you weren’t convinced. especially not when, a minute later, a like popped up. "oh my god, he scrolled,” you muttered, now slightly horrified. "he scrolled, sarah."

"what do you mean he scrolled?"

"he just liked one of my posts from 3 months ago."

sarah burst into laughter, "that’s not a like-by-accident. that’s a calculated like."

you gave her a look, shutting up her laughs. "what the hell is he doing?"

"i wish i knew,” she said honestly. "but knowing rafe… nothing good."

"sarah! not helping at all." you threw a pillow at her.

she caught it in her hands, bursting into a fit of giggles once again. "oh come on, i'm sure it's nothing. now you've got a class to get to so go on." she said, shooing you out the door.

as you were walking to class, you debated the whole time whether you should follow him back or not. the last thing you wanted to do was give him an ego boost, but before you could finally make your mind up, you bumped into someone.

you stumbled back, muttering a quiet "shit sorry." before being met with the reason you weren't paying attention in the first place.

he caught your arm to steady you, his grip firm and annoyingly confident. "you good?” he asked, his voice low, a smirk already tugging at his lips.

you pulled your arm back irritated, brushing off your top like he’d left something on it. "yeah. fine. didn’t see you."

he raised an eyebrow, "clearly."

"where are you going anyway?" you asked with a hint of annoyance.

"class? obviously?"

"ok no need for the sassy man apocalypse to arrive."

rafe let out an amused laugh, "is this you trying to flirt with me or something?"

"by calling you sassy? definitely not trying to flirt." you responded, straight faced.

he cocked his head slightly, "could've falled me princess."

"don't call me that." you snapped, attempting to brush past him.

"why?" he asked following behind you, "your boyfriend not gonna like it?"

"yes actually."

"didn't take you for the lying type." he raised an eyebrow.

"you think i'm lying?" you quizzed him.

"well you didn't exactly have any photos of said boyfriend on your instagram."

you stopped in your tracks, turning to face him. "so you admit to stalking me?"

he grinned, not even trying to deny it. "i call it light research."

you rolled your eyes, "you’re actually insufferable."

"and yet,” he leaned in slightly, voice dropping, "you’re still standing here talking to me."

you exhaled sharply through your nose and turned back around. "only because you’re following me."

"you’re the one walking away," he called after you.

without looking back, you threw up a middle finger and kept walking.

he chuckled, loud enough for you to hear. "see you around, princess."

you muttered under your breath, "fucking frat boys."

a/n: sorry this was so much conversation but i was actually giggling kicking my feet writing this

🏷️: @heartzshiftamy @hoefordrewstarkey @luvrclub @saintlaurentcowboyy @leleee3 @yktayy9669 @miumiuestmoi @anacamofficial @cokewithcameron @bloodofadoll @shorttandsweett @mysticbby2009 @emmiesummers @wintercrows @drewrry @starkeyxcameron @xxbirkindoll2 @stoned-writer @drewstarkeyslover @hannieskzzz @verycherryblossomhideout @letstryagaintomorrow @@jjsbbg7 @mariamadison6-blog @laniirackssss @xeneasworld @countryclubwhore @drewsphswife @mattyskies @moonywhisp3rs @starkeygirls @lmaolmaos @thereallifebambi @emeloyy @vcnillafairy @rafecameronswhoore @st8rkey @angeldiaryy @therealfairybatman @drewsephrry @vanessa-rafesgirl @dreamybabbyy @pogueprincesa @happy-mushrooms @hannaa20002000 @whoismxtti @darlingstarkey

[crushpunky]

actress!reader visits drew on the obx set (again)

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

warning: fans getting a bit too close lol

The weather in Charleston was beautiful, if a little hot, but that didn’t stop y/n from taking Charleston out on a walk. The dog trotted happily in front of her, wagging his tail as he pranced down the streets. Y/n pushed her sunglasses up slightly, flashing a passerby a smile as she walked casually. With Outer Banks back filming, Charleston became much more populated with tourists and fans hoping to get a peak behind the scenes or meet the cast.

As she walked, y/n’s phone buzzed.

drew :): What are you up to? 

drew :): I’m on break and I miss you :)

Y/n chuckled slightly to herself, her cheeks warming and stomach fluttering at the smiley face that ended Drew’s message, the same one he’d entered into his contact when she first got his number.

y/n: you just saw me this morning !!

drew :): I still miss you though…

Across the street from the sidewalk y/n and Charleston walked down was a gathering of people, clamoring excitedly against a temporary barricade as they pointed their phones towards the cameras and lighting equipment set up around a park. Y/n squinted, shielding her eyes from the sun as she peered into the set, immediately recognizing the iconic Twinkie parked out front amongst an array of trailers. Y/n glanced down the street, the familiar scent of coffee wafting out of the front door of her and Drew’s favorite cafe.

y/n: well i’m taking charlie out on a walk downtown… how does claire’s sound ?

drew :): Heavenly. I’ll meet you out front.

Y/n spared another glance towards the gathering of fans, fans who looked so excited and eager to be in the presence of the cast. While meeting with fans could sometimes be overwhelming, it was also often so rewarding to see the happiness and hear the adoration from them. With a smile, y/n stepped into Claire’s.

y/n: sounds good. you’ve got some visitors out there who might want to chat too ;)

drew :): Haha of course. I’m sure they’d love to meet Charleston too.

drew :): Love you.

y/n: love you

A few moments later, y/n reemerged with an armful of coffee and sandwiches. As she crossed the street, y/n could hear the murmurs and whispers of the fans standing near the trailers begin to intensify.

“Is that y/n?!” Someone said loudly, pointing at her as she walked onto the sidewalk. Immediately, the attention of the crowd shifted from the set to y/n, her arms full with food, drinks, and Charleston, who padded along none the wiser.

“Oh my god!”

“Y/n are you back?!”

“Look, it’s Charleston!”

The crowd quickly swarmed, engulfing y/n in excited squeals and camera flashes.

“H– hey.” Y/n stammered, pulling Charleston a bit closer as she tried to weave through to the entrance near where the trailers were parked.

“Y/n I love you!”

“Say hi to Drew for me!”

“Sorry, my hands are a bit full, I’ll—” y/n flashed a practiced smile as she adjusted her grip on her coffee, the drink nearly spilling.

“Can I get a picture?”

“Are you going to be in season five?!”

“Hey!” A firm voice cut through the noise, y/n’s eyes immediately drawn to Drew as he pushed his way through the crowd towards her. The fans squeals grew louder (some letting out especially loud screeches) at the sight of Drew, a pair of Ray-Bans perched atop his nose as he finally made it through to y/n and Charleston. He quickly took the food and drink from y/n’s hands, handing it off to one of the security personnel standing by the entrance before turning back to y/n. His arm quickly found her waist, pulling her into his side with a protective and familiar firmness.

“H– Hey— Hey, guys—” Drew said, clearing his throat as he tried to speak loud enough to be heard over the clamoring fans. Charleston wove his way through y/n and Drew’s feet, the leash tangling as he tried to greet all of the fans. Y/n felt a shove at her side, sending her stumbling into Drew, who was able to stabilize her.

“Guys!” Drew said, his voice a bit sharp, which caused both y/n and Drew to quirk their brows in surprise. “Look, we’d love to talk with you guys, but we need you to back up a couple of steps first.”

The fans stepped back quickly, still smiling widely as they watched y/n and Drew tucked into each other's sides. Y/n felt herself relax, letting out a bit of a chuckle as the two of them began to chat and take photos with the fans. The fans shared stories and compliments, some even bringing gifts for them and the rest of the OBX cast.

Eventually, once they were able to spend time with all of the excited fans (and Charleston was starting to get a bit antsy in the Carolina heat), the two of them bid farewell and made their way back towards Drew’s trailer. Once they closed the door behind them, Charleston quickly bounded over to hop up onto the couch as Drew wrapped y/n in a bone-crushing hug.

“I missed you.” Drew sighed dramatically as he dug his nose into y/n’s hair before taking a long inhale. Y/n let out a giggle, burying her face in Drew’s chest as she hugged him back. After Drew felt satisfied, he eventually loosened his grip on her enough to press a kiss to y/n’s forehead.

“Even though you saw me, what, four hours ago?” Y/n teased. Drew rolled his eyes before collapsing onto the couch, bringing y/n with him. Y/n gazed down at him with a smile, Drew grinning back at her as he tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear.

“Every second I’m not with you, I miss you.” Drew murmured, his eyes scanning along her face. Y/n felt her heart skip, her lips twisting up into a flustered smile before she leaned down to press them to Drew’s. He let out a groan as y/n shifted to fall next to him, tucking herself into his side as the two of them gazed lovingly at each other. The two of them lay there for a moment, basking in each other's presence, until it was suddenly interrupted by a gurgling noise coming from Drew’s stomach. Y/n’s eyes widened before she let out a giggle, Drew’s cheeks flushing as he chuckled.

“Maybe we should get our food—” Y/n said, starting to get up from the couch, but Drew quickly grabbed onto her waist, pulling her back down into him.

“Food can wait.” Drew said. “Now, I just want to hold you.”

Y/n melted, snaking an arm around Drew before resting her head on his chest, the steady thrum of his heart in her ears the only sound in the world.

taglist: @ladyatwalmart @lilfreakjez @starkeyslutzz @maiya-16 @wolfcin04 @rana030

[stvrkeysgal]

homecoming — drew starkey

guys i couldn't resist writing something for THIS exact look that drew had. i know, i'm working on the other stuff but pls js hear me out on this one 😭

you were used to drew's hectic schedules, tv interviews and the likes—which meant you'll be seeing him in different outfits, attires, looks or haircuts in front of the television.

but this one, this specific look that he had on the sag awards today hits the fucking spot.

the way the outfit looked on him—paired with his brought-back buzzcut and the goddamn earrings, and the way he presented himself on tv, you swore you could've melted on the spot and went to heaven.

while you were watching him on tv, your phone was open while you scrolled on instagram, twitter and tiktok to see how much people have thirsted over drew's new look. every time you see a thirst tweet or a tiktok about his outfit, you'd giggle to yourself and mutter, "yep, that's my fucking boyfriend."

as you scrolled further, you started to grow more turned on by the sight of your boyfriend. everything about him caught your attention in the most unspeakable ways possible.

however, when you saw a clip on tiktok where drew was beside millie, his arm linked with hers as he bent down to speak on the microphone, you completely lost it. his voice had that usual rasp—but somehow so much sexier, and the way he looked so fucking tall when he bent down, you were spiraling.

you couldn't take it anymore—you knew that drew was out there, most likely still busy. everything in you begged not to text him, but your urges were too fucking stubborn to be stopped.

> baby i know you're probably still busy out there but fuck

> i can't stop thinking abt u in that sag awards outfit

> i'm going insane rn drew i need you so so bad

before you knew it you were covered by the sheets in your shared bed, two fingers buried inside you as you moaned and thrashed on the bed, picturing that it was drew's fingers fucking you instead.

however, when you felt your orgasm coming up, the bedroom door swings open. drew stands in the doorway, leaning with his arms crossed across his chest while he eyes you with a smirk. "having fun without me, baby?"

goddamn it, he still wore the outfit from earlier. you immediately blush at the sight of him, his 6'2 self in all it's glory, with the outfit that had your thighs clenching together and your mouth salivating earlier. "i'm sorry, drew," he walks closer to you, still wearing the smirk. "i couldn't help it."

he smiles then, leaning down and sitting on the edge of the bed. he pulls the covers down and exposes your legs to the cold air.

drew's eyes instantly landed on your glistening core, and he exhales sharply at the sight of you all prepared for him.

he runs two fingers up your slit, and he groans at how wet you were. "shit, baby. all this for me?" drew sticks those same fingers in his mouth, groaning at the taste of you.

"i can't take this anymore."

๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑

you found yourself laying on your stomach, pillows underneath you as you took drew from behind. his thighs hit the back of yours fast, leaving the skin red and raw. "shit, baby. taking me so fucking well." he breathes out from behind you, both hands of his gripped your waist while he picks up the pace.

"yeah? you like that, huh?" he lands a slap on your ass, making you jump slightly. drew lands another one, this time making you hiss as the slap stung your skin. you nod in response, the words seemingly getting lost and dull on your tongue.

your eyes rolled back, while your throat goes hoarse from all the moaning you did, and drew hissed at the feeling of your walls clenching around him. when he feels that you're close, his hand reaches down to rub your clit in fast and hard circles. "that's it, baby. come on, come for me."

you let out a loud moan at that and came all over his dick, as you made a mess all over him and the sheets underneath you.

he pulled out after a short while and pulled you closed to him, and then kissed the top of your head gently while his fingers played with your hair. "you okay?" drew asks softly. "totally," you replied with a chuckle. "i gotta admit, that outfit you had earlier was totally it."

drew laughs at that, then he pinched your waist gently which had you giggling.

"i know," he buried his face in your neck, and then kissed you there. "think you can take another round for me?"

© stvrkeysgal

drew / rafe's masterlist

[poguelandiarafe]

tough guy | rafe cameron

paring - rafe cameron x gf!reader

warnings - mentions of violence and getting stabbed

summary - rafe is telling you, topper and kelce about his day and brings up the fact he got into yet another fight. you don't like this so decide to put him in his place, knowing you're the only one who can (not set in any particular season).

masterlist

--------

to anyone else, dating rafe cameron would be scary, a struggle even. he's a man known for his reputation and will do anything to uphold it. whenever he enters a room all eyes are on him and it amazes you how he commands such attention without any effort at all. his features are strong and bold, just like his personality, and it's this that drew you in in the first place. the way he kept everyone at a distance, not letting anyone in.

except you.

you love a challenge and were determined to be let into his world. you're headstrong, stubborn, and know exactly what you want in life, stopping at nothing to get it. you're hot too, of course, but it's your determination that rafe thinks made him fall for you. it's like he's dating himself your personalities are so similar.

and you love to push his buttons, calling him out on whatever dumb shit he does.

--------

you're sitting on the sofa at tannyhill, rafe's arm slung over your shoulder to keep you next to him as he rambles on about another reckless thing he's done today. topper and kelce are scattered around the living room, taking turns to finish the joint you don't want anymore, listening to rafe. they're seemingly invested in whatever he's saying whereas you sit there scrolling through instagram, paying barely any attention to him.

"and then he pulled a knife on me," he laughs, "was fucking crazy."

your ears perk up, throwing his arm off your shoulder and sitting up to properly look at him. he looks at you briefly before going to carry on what he was saying but you cut him off.

"are you fucking crazy?" you ask, finger poking into his chest.

the room goes silent. topper and kelce freezing, in shock you spoke to rafe like that without him immediately shouting at you.

his eyes narrow at you and his brows furrow, "no? what's that meant to mean?"

"you were reckless, rafe. you can't start throwing punches every chance you get. jj literally pulled a fucking knife on you and you're here laughing about it." you say, voice raising from anger.

"you don't tell me what to do." rafe says, jaw clenched from being spoken to like that in front of his friends.

you match his intense stare, "i think i have every right to if you're putting yourself in a situation where you could die."

"he tried to sink my boat, i'm not just letting that shit slide! it's not like he'd actu-" he starts before you cut him off.

"don't you dare say he wasn't serious! what if he was, huh?" you snap, getting up and standing in front of him, "what if he actually stabbed you and i got a phone call saying you were in hopsital or that your body had been found? then what?"

it's quiet for a moment, rafe thinking over what you said. he feels guilty now, not really thinking about the consequences if something were to actually have happened, his adrenaline having clouded his rational judgement at the time.

"alright, alright. i get it baby. i'm sorry." he holds his hands up in mock surrender.

"you're not invincible just because you're rafe cameron. i don't want anything to happen to you."

he stands up, pulling you into him but you don't budge, arms crossed over your chest.

"i'm sorry for being reckless," he whispers into your hair, before he smirks, "but don't act like you don't love that i'm rafe cameron."

you roll your eyes, wrapping your arms around him now, "not when you're acting like this, i don't. just... promise to cool it. it hurts me when you come home covered in blood and bruises from yet another fight you've been in."

"okay, i promise i'll try. you're lucky you're hot." he mutters.

"you're lucky i put up with your shit." you counter, a smile on your lips.

while you and rafe were busy arguing, topper and kelce were silently smoking the joint, sharing looks every so often as they listened in.

"how does she get away with speaking to him like that?" topper whispers to kelce in disbelief.

"i have something he can't live without." you quip with a wink, overhearing him.

"okay, gross." kelce says.

"his words." you shrug.

[bunny-jpeg]

"i need a curvy girl!", oscar p. - is a phrase that oscar wanted to yell to the heavens. he wanted to shake his hands in the air like a mad-man and call to a higher power that he wanted a bigger woman. he wanted a woman with curves. he wanted them like he wanted his tracks, something he can drag his fingers along and hug tightly like he did on the track.

he wanted soft stomachs, love handles, big breasts and a bigger ass. it felt like an impossible challenge! not that he hated the smaller girls he interacted with often, but he wanted a girl he can sink his teeth into. (among other things). he wanted to love you close, feel your softness under his touch. he believed that angels had round faces and soft curves, and he wanted himself a divine being.

oscar almost dropped his drink when he was at an event during the off-season. he knew there were going to be models at the event, and while they were drop dead gorgeous. oscar couldn't help but be drawn to you. lando could chat up the others. you didn't even really noticed oscar when he approached you at the bar. you were happily content with not having any attention onto you. but like a siren's song you drew the australian in. the sight of your curves in such a pretty gold dress, you should've been the center of attention. not your fellow models.

"would you like another drink?" he asked as he leaned up against the bar. he looked good in the button up he wore, the expensive watch flashed in the low light of the event. you looked up from your phone at him.

"did your friend put you up to this? if you want, amanda is over there if you want to talk to her." then turned back to your phone. you could feel your ears burn from the attention. it wasn't that you were never flirted with, you just weren't the talk of the room.

oscar looked over to see who he assumed was amanda seated on one of the red couches, she was chatting with another guy that oscar didn't recognize. not that he he cared, he looked back to you and said, "not my type." he chuckled, "the drink offer is still open, what do you say?"

-

oscar piastri liked bigger women. which was a phrase in your head as he led you back to his hotel room for the night. when he kissed you it was refreshing like flavoured water on a hot day. his arms around you were comforting like a warm blanket in the dead of winter. you loved it. he really wooed you all night, he told cheesy jokes and when you kissed him, you could see the pink in his cheeks afterwards. you were enamored by him. number eighty-one was in your room soon after you got the door open. you two kissed briefly before you got your heels off and he toed out of his own shoes.

"i love the dress." he said, "but i think it would look nicer on the floor." he helped you out of it, slowly getting your body exposed to him. he licked his lips, but stopped a moment after, "sorry, i don't want you think i only want you for your body... you're... wow." he felt heat flood in his cheeks as he took in the sight of your figure, "you must be the highest paid model at the agency, you could sell water to the ocean." he chuckled lightly and pushed back his hair.

you stood there, in nothing but white panties. you had your hands behind your back as you looked at him. it felt odd being so vulnerable, naked in front of such a handsome man. but as his mouth kept running, giving you compliment after compliment. you found him endearing. you eventually reached for him and started to unbutton the front of his shirt. "and you." you said, "are quite a handsome man." then gave him a sweet smile.

he swallowed before he took off his shirt and his undershirt. he licked his lips, "fuck, you're beautiful." then dropped his clothed to the ground. he took off his belt and felt a heat course through him. he loved it, he loved it. you took off your panties and oscar maintained eye contact with you while he pulled down his dress pants. he admired you, he was worried that he was eyeing you like a piece of meat. but you felt the farthest from it. you felt admired, adored. you knew you were beautiful, but to have someone handsome like oscar only made you smile.

both of you soon ended up in bed together. both soon nude and kissing, oscar's kisses felt good. they tasted a little bitter due to the contents of his liquor that night, but your sweeten them up with the flavoured gloss on on your lips.

he groaned into your kiss as he laid you out on the bed. when he pulled away, he admired you once more. he couldn't help it. a part of him wanted to ask to take a picture to gaze at later. but he thought asking to take nudes of you after your first meeting would be impolite. maybe he could get some clothed photos during your first date to admire on the next leg of his formula one season. you cupped his face and slowly and softly dragged your painted nails down his cheeks. his eyes fluttered shut for a moment. he said, "i know what you are... dreamlike."

you pulled him in for a kiss while his hand was spread across the side of your soft thigh. you pressed your forehead against his and smiled a little, "and you're a prince charming."

he got between your legs and beamed at you, "well, of course, only the best for a princess after all." then he shifted between your legs and propped your hips up on a pillow. he asked earlier in the night if you were on any form of birth control, the answer was yes. so he felt no regrets as he sank into your sweet cunt. he felt his stomach flip as he started to move against you. his hands on your soft hips, he felt the liquid fire of lust through his body as he rutted up against you. it felt amazing.

you looked up at him for a moment and you caught him gazing at your breasts. you reached out for him and pulled him in to your chest and let him kiss at your breasts. it made his cock twitch inside of you as he moved against you. smothered by your soft tits. he loved it. he planted his hands on either side of you on the bed for better leverage as he moved against you. he groaned against your warmed skin as he worked his cock up inside of you. it felt like heaven, you felt like an angel.

he pants were heavy, his head was swimming as he moved against you. it felt amazing, in a way that he couldn't put fully into words. he clutched onto the covers and moved faster. he kissed at your breasts, they were heavy and it made him shudder with want.

"oscar." you said.

he moved up to kiss you on your collarbones, "you feel amazing, fuck. look at you. you're so beautiful." he was happy to finally get the curvy woman of his dreams, but after a night of laughter and drinks. he think he was falling in love. he was at the very least smitten by you. after tonight he was hoping to get a first date.

you kissed him on the lips as the two of you continued to move against one another on the bed. his kisses were soft and it left you excited all over. you moaned against his lips and held onto his shoulders. the excitement bounced through the both of you. the warmth between you two as the kisses grew hungrier.

you liked oscar, not just because he was drawn to you. while he admired your body and it made you blush, you didn't feel like a notch on his belt. he was making love to you, not just a quick fuck in a hotel room. it felt intimate, warm. and you felt admired, adored, rather than just an object to fuck.

and his words only made you feel more beautiful, "i can see why you're a model. if i saw you on a billboard near the track, i'd probably not be able to focus on the race. cause an accident."

"because i'm so ugly?" you jested.

"no." he replied as he looked into your eyes, "because you're beautiful beyond words." then went in for another kiss. the pace was steady. you moved against each other like you wanted to explore each other's bodies. oscar wished he had an entire weekend with you. he'd make it up to you. you were a dream that he wasn't going to give up on, not if he wanted to be in your life just as much as you'd be in his.

"you're beautiful too, oscar." you said as you placed a hand on his chest for a moment after the kiss broke, "you must make many women very happy on your travels."

"not as happy as i want to make you." he said. it was romantic, soft in a way that left you feeling over the moon. he continued to move against you. he knew that he wasn't going to last much longer. the kisses grew heated, the lust bloomed between the two of you.

you wanted him, and he wanted you.

"oscar, please." you let out a small moan between heavy pants. he worked your body beautifully, he took you in a way that no other man could have ever. his pace wasn't bruising but it was enough for you to see stars. the kisses continued, the pleasure swelled. heaven felt in your touch as you clutched onto him.

you came soon after, your thighs clenched around his waist and you moaned into the heated kiss. it felt amazing, you nails dragged across his shoulders as the two of you continued to fuck on the bed. oscar came soon after, you both felt the heated inferno as you two worked each other's bodies through climax.

"fucking beautiful." he exhaled deeply as he slowed his pace to a stop. another kiss was laid on you before he stopped to look at you. when he pulled away from the short kiss, he chuckled.

he soon pulled out and laid out next to you with you in his arms. you were held gently and smiled against his chest. it felt nice.

"i have to go soon, i have a shoot tomorrow." you said after you came down from the sexual high. you hated to leave, but you sadly had work in the morning.

oscar only held you closer and pressed himself up against you, "i'll drive you. i at least owe you a proper date." he kissed your cheek, he enjoyed the warm, "not one for one night stands.... can i take you out."

you looked at him, admired his features before you smiled at him. a smile that lit up your entire face, too much of a smile made your face look too round-but oscar liked seeing your overjoyed- you replied, "of course... i'd love that." you felt a blush in your face at the earnest look he was giving you. he looked over the moon, and you couldn't help but fall even more for him. <3

[hyuniemyunie]

Jason todd x gn reader˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

doing his makeup!<3

sfw

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

(ФωФ): hes sooooo wifey i love him sm

THIS IS FOR EVERYNYAN. MEN WITH MAKEUP. WOMEN WITH MAKEUP. NONBINARY PPL WITH MAKEUP.

men who do makeup..r..like. so hot. sorry..not sorry..

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･

Jason Todd was many things—an ex-Robin, a vigilante, a walking, talking trauma case—but a guy who let someone put makeup on him? That was where he drew the line.

At least, he had drawn the line. But you had this look in your eyes, that mischievous little sparkle that made it real hard to say no.

“Come on,” you pleaded, holding up a fluffy makeup brush like it was a weapon of mass persuasion. “Just let me do a little bit.”

Jason crossed his arms. “I’m not gonna look like a clown, am I?”

you gasped, placing a hand over your heart in fake offense. “How dare you. I would never make you look bad.”

He squinted at you. “Uh-huh.”

You scooted closer, eyes shining. “Please?”

Jason sighed, already feeling himself caving. “Fine. But if I look ridiculous, I’m making you watch all my shitty old Westerns shows with me.”

You grinned. “Deal.”

And that was how Jason Todd, Gotham’s brooding menace, ended up sitting on the edge of the bed while you happily went to work on his face.

At first, he felt stupid. you started with some primer and foundation, muttering about “undertones” and “coverage” while he sat there like an idiot. Then came the contouring—something about sharpening his cheekbones, which he thought was unnecessary because his cheekbones were already sharp enough to cut glass.

Then you moved to his eyes.

“This is where the magic happens,” you declared, pulling out an eyeshadow palette.

Jason groaned. “I swear to God, if you give me rainbow clown eyes—”

“Shhh,” you hushed him, dusting warm brown and reddish shades onto his lids.

Jason stayed quiet after that, mostly because the feeling of the brush against his skin was oddly relaxing. You blended, added a bit of shimmer at the inner corners, then pulled out the eyeliner.

“Keep still,” you warned.

Jason tried to keep still, but the moment you got close to his eye with that little black pen, his survival instincts kicked in.

You huffed. “You stare down thugs with guns on a nightly basis, but this is where you flinch?”

“It’s a reflex,” Jason grumbled.

you rolled your eyes and cupped his jaw, gently tilting his face. “Look up.”

He did. And maybe—just maybe—he liked the way you were touching him, all soft and careful like he was something delicate.

Once you finished the eyeliner, you moved to mascara. Jason blinked too hard the first time, getting some on his eyelid. You scolded him, wiped it off, and tried again.

Then came the final touch—the lips.

Jason narrowed his eyes as you picked up a tube of lipstick. “No bright red,” he warned.

You rolled your eyes. “I know. Trust me.”

You picked a deep, natural shade and carefully applied it, your thumb tilting his chin to keep him still. When you pulled back, you studied him, eyes wide with satisfaction.

“…Holy shit,” you muttered.

Jason frowned. “What?”

“You look really good.”

Jason snorted. “You’re supposed to say that. You did the makeup.”

“No, but like—really good.” You grabbed your phone and flipped the camera so he could see.

Jason expected to look ridiculous.

Instead…

Oh.

The guy in the reflection wasn’t some overgrown crime alley stray. His skin looked flawless, his cheekbones more defined, his blue eyes sharp. The eyeliner made them pop, the mascara darkened his lashes just enough, and the lip color—damn.

He turned his head slightly, raising a brow. He looked—

“…I look hot,” Jason muttered, genuinely surprised.

You burst out laughing. “I told you!”

Jason kept staring at himself, tilting his head like he was studying a piece of art. “…I look like I could scam rich men out of their fortunes.”

You snorted. “You totally could.”

Jason leaned closer to the mirror. “This is bullshit. Why does this work?”

You smirked, resting your chin on his shoulder. “Because, babe, I’m the one who did it.”

Jason gave you a sideways glance. “…So you’re saying if I let you do this every time, I could be the prettiest crime-fighting menace in Gotham?”

You grinned. “Oh, absolutely.”

Jason hummed. “Huh.”

He turned back to the mirror, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully.

“…So how do I take selfies?”

Jason stared at his reflection, turning his face slightly to the side, then back. His sharp jawline looked even sharper under the contour, the dark eyeliner made his blue eyes pop like something out of a painting, and the lip color—deep, natural, and just glossy enough—gave him a dangerous kind of charm.

You watched him with barely contained laughter, chin resting on his shoulder. Oh, he was eating this up.

“So,” you drawled, watching his expression shift between admiration and disbelief. “What do you think?”

Jason exhaled through his nose, tilting his head again like he was analyzing a priceless artifact.

“…I look like I scam rich men for a living,” he muttered.

You grinned. “And you’d be good at it.”

Jason let out a soft, amused scoff, still not looking away from the mirror. You could see the way his brain was working—turning over the fact that he, Jason Todd, could be pretty in a way he hadn’t really considered before.

His fingers brushed over his jaw. “This is bullshit.”

You snorted. “What’s bullshit? That I made you look hot?”

“That it works,” he grumbled, squinting at himself like the makeup had personally betrayed him. “I mean, I expected to look like some try-hard clown, not—” He gestured vaguely at his face. “—whatever this is.”

“A masterpiece?” you supplied helpfully.

Jason shot you a look, but there was no real bite to it. He was too busy admiring his reflection.

You grabbed your phone and flipped the camera, holding it up. “Wanna take some selfies?”

Jason hesitated. His instinct was probably to say no, but you could see the little flicker of consideration in his eyes.

“…If you send them to Dick, I’ll throw your phone off a building.”

“Duh,” you said, like that should’ve been obvious. “These are for us. For documentation. For history. For—”

Jason rolled his eyes, but you caught the way his lips twitched like he was fighting a smile.

“…Fine.”

You gasped dramatically. “Did the Jason Todd just agree to take selfies?”

“Shut up and take the damn picture.”

You beamed and held the phone up, making sure the lighting was just right before snapping a couple of shots. Jason barely even tried to pose, but he didn’t need to—his natural sharpness, the way he glanced sideways at the camera with that slight, lazy smirk, made him look effortlessly cool.

After a few shots, you checked the photos, grinning. “Okay, but you actually look so good.”

Jason leaned over, eyes scanning the images. His expression softened for just a second before he covered it up with faux nonchalance. “Yeah, yeah. You’re just saying that ‘cause you did the makeup.”

“No,” you said seriously, nudging his arm. “I mean it. You’re gorgeous, Jay.”

Jason blinked, caught off guard. He cleared his throat, looking away like you hadn’t just turned him into putty with one sentence. “…You’re so full of shit.”

You just grinned.

“Alright,” Jason sighed, stretching his arms above his head. “Time to wash this off before I start getting ideas.”

You gasped. “What kind of ideas?”

Jason smirked, standing up and flexing dramatically. “I dunno. Maybe I should start conning rich old ladies.”

“Oh my god.”

“I could be Gotham’s prettiest crime lord. Make Bruce’s life a living hell.”

You laughed, standing up with him. “I knew this would go to your head.”

Jason slung an arm around your shoulder, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Your fault, babe.”

And yeah—maybe it was your fault. But looking at Jason now, with his newfound appreciation for just how good he could look, you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it.

Jason wasn’t one to fuss over things like makeup. Sure, it had turned out better than expected—hell, he’d even admit (to you, and only you) that he looked good—but after a few selfies and some teasing, he was ready to wash it off and go back to his usual, rugged, Gotham-worn self.

At least, that was the plan.

You, however, had different ideas.

Jason stood in front of the bathroom mirror, rolling up his sleeves as he turned the sink on. His reflection stared back at him—still sharp-jawed, still intense-eyed, but softened just a bit by the expertly blended makeup you’d applied. He reached for a towel when, suddenly—

SMOOCH.

A pair of lips landed on his cheek, warm and deliberate.

Jason froze. “What are you—”

SMOOCH. Another one, this time dangerously close to his jaw.

“Babe—”

SMOOCH. SMOOCH. SMOOCH.

He turned just in time for you to attack with another kiss, smacking your lips dramatically against his face. Jason stumbled back against the sink, hands bracing himself as you grabbed fistfuls of his shirt to keep him in place.

“Alright, alright!” he laughed, hands coming up to ward you off. “What the hell has gotten into you?”

You grinned up at him, smug as hell. “Just appreciating my work before it all goes to waste.”

Jason gave you a suspicious look, but when he wiped his cheek with the back of his hand—his eyes widened.

A bright red lipstick stain smeared across his knuckles.

He turned back to the mirror.

Oh, shit.

There were marks everywhere. Little red imprints covered his cheeks, his jawline, his nose, and—he rubbed his lips together, realizing you’d definitely gotten him there too. His mouth was slightly smudged, like he’d either been thoroughly kissed or had just finished robbing a bank with Harley Quinn.

Jason looked back at you, you looked way too pleased with yourself.

“Are you serious?” Jason groaned, rubbing at his face. The lipstick refused to budge.

“Very.” You crossed your arms, proud of your masterpiece. “I think it suits you.”

Jason ran a hand down his face. “I look like I got mauled by a very aggressive valentine.”

“You look loved,” you corrected sweetly, batting your lashes.

Jason exhaled through his nose, staring at you like he was this close to enacting revenge. Then, with zero warning, he grabbed you by the waist, hoisting you up onto the bathroom counter.

“Jay—”

You barely had time to react before he pressed his face all over yours—cheeks, nose, forehead, even down to your neck—rubbing against you like a damn cat.

You squealed, trying to push him off. “Jason, no—!”

“What?” he murmured, voice smug and low against your ear. “You don’t wanna match?”

You huffed, knowing damn well he was transferring all those lipstick marks onto your face. When he finally pulled back, he took a second to admire his work.

You glared at him. “You’re an ass.”

Jason smirked, running his thumb over your now-stained cheek. “You love me.”

You tried to look annoyed, but the way he was looking at you—smug, sure, but with that soft glint in his blue eyes—made it impossible to stay mad.

You sighed dramatically. “Yeah, yeah.”

Jason chuckled, leaning down to press a much gentler, slower kiss to your lips. This time, neither of you cared about the mess.

[happypopcornprincess]

Under the Same Sky

Pairings - Joaquin Torres X fem!Reader (TFATWS AU)

Premise - You have your heart guarded for the longest time. But when you encounter a stranger on the same mission, will you be able to do the same?

Word Count - 4.5K

Warnings: Some strong language, references to Pop Culture, allusions to SMUT

a/n - I wrote this while I was falling in love with someone. This one is for everyone who ever fell in love, hope you guys have a happy ending that you truly deserve <3

Click here for Part 2

“I swear to God Barnes, if this is some kind of dipshit prank you are playing on me, I’ll give your number to that sweet server lady from Yori’s Japanese place and record your introverted ass trying to strike a conversation.” You grumbled into your phone as you locked your door and walked down the stairs of yours (and Buck’s) apartment building.

After making you spill your morning coffee over the couch while telling you about him evading the country, breaking Helmunt Zemo out from prison, going to Madripor and Karli threatening Sam’s family, he had the goddamn audacity to ask for your help with the entire situation.

You were, of course, rushing to Louisiana for Sarah and the kids, because afterwards you get to murder him in cold blood.

“If this wasn’t for Sam’s family in danger, I would not have asked for you. And by the way, I am not an introvert. That’s you. Now hurry up, my guy’s waiting.” his annoyingly calm voice spoke through the phone.

“Is your guy about to be a wrinkly old pervert trying to get high by speed walking?” you almost screamed, reaching the ground floor and pulling open the back door towards the alleyway. The chill air makes you shiver a bit, and you find yourself colliding with a person, “oof” you hear a muffled sound coming from him.

“I’m so sorry- I-“ you began to explain yourself, but the other person spoke up first, “y/n?”

Your hand hovered over the concealed weapon on your waist, “uh, yeah?” you murmur, taking a step back in caution wondering how he knew your name.

“Yeah, I found her.” He speaks into his cell and cuts the call.

Dressed in casual clothes, he held a duffle bag in one hand, his eyebrows raised as he was looking at you. He smiled, waved at you, and Bucky spoke into your ear, “found my guy?”

“This is your guy?” you said pointing at him.

Bucky only laughed, “meet us in Louisiana. Take care y/n.” he cuts the call. Bucky’s guy was not a wrinkly old pervert, but this insanely good-looking man with great posture and a warm smile.

And to your horror, he was hot.

His warm, sun-kissed complexion hinted at his Mexican heritage. His hair added an air of rugged charm and you swore you never saw anyone with eyes so dark brown that drew you in instantly.

“You are…” you extend your hand after shoving your phone in the pocket of your overcoat.

“Lt. Torres.” He grimaced, embarrassed, “Joaquin. Joaquin Torres.” He extends his hand.

You shake his hand and oh god why are his hands so warm!

“Marines?” you ask, trying not to think about his hands.

“Air Force, ma’am.” He says, stepping back for you to get out of the doorway.

“Please, just call me y/n.”

You fumbled with your bag as he raised his eyebrows, “let me take that for you.” He offered.

“Oh no, no it's fine.” You laughed out, and he raised his arms in defeat.

He was walking to the end of the alley beside you, cold air escaping his lips.

Pink, soft, how would they feel on your lips and…

You concentrate on walking, trying not to look at him where his neck met his shoulders and goddammit what is wrong with you y/n can you stop daydreaming about this guy?

What you missed while giving yourself a pep talk… was the smirk on Joaquin’s face.

---

The initial car ride was a bit silent, awkward conversation hanging in the air. But then, like magic, the tension dissolved. You stumbled upon a shared love for Power Rangers and the cartoons of our youth. Suddenly, you were deep in conversation, reminiscing about your childhoods, carefree and filled with the magic of childhood. Turns out he isn’t much older than you, just a two year difference.

His laughter was infectious. The way his eyes crinkled at the corners, his teeth flashing in a wide grin – it was a sound that felt warm and comforting, somehow. You found yourself leaning towards him, captivated by the way his lips curved into a smile, the way the light caught the gold flecks in his eyes. The familiar road seemed to stretch on forever.

Finally when we pulled onto the familiar, deserted road leading to Sam's house, two small figures came into view, standing near the porch. 

“Auntie!” Cass and AJ sprinted to you as soon as you stepped out of the car.

“Heyyyy!” you laugh and fall back as they hug you with full force, “ugh, I missed you guys so much.”

“We missed you too!” AJ grinned as he refused to let go of you.

“Who's this?” Cass asked you, pointing towards Joaquin.

Among the excitement of meeting them, you almost forgot the poor guy. Joaquin stood next to the car awkwardly looking at you. You smile and introduce him, “guys this is my friend, Joaquin.”

“Hey.” He waved at Cass and AJ.

Cass looks at him with all seriousness, “Do you play Fortnight?”

Joaquin fumbled, “Yeah. A bit.”

“Cool.” They both replied in unison.

“Okay now let auntie breathe for a minute.” Sarah spoke as she walked towards you wearing an apron, clearly cooking for dinner.

You hugged her tight, meeting the family after so long, “Hey Sarah.”

You look towards Joaquin, how he was laughing with the kids. And then you look at Sarah, your soul sister, and how Bucky had asked you to break the news to her delicately, “Sarah, we need to talk.”

---

Sam and Sarah were your go to destination every summer. 

You saw Cass and AJ grow up after the blip, and stayed with them when they needed help. You might not have the same blood, but they were your family.

They have stayed away from all the mayhem, until now.

You three sat down on the kitchen table and told her everything that you knew about the situation.

“Dear lord.” Sarah sighed as she held your hand, “You think these people… they will come here?

“There is a possibility, but Sarah, I swear I won’t let anything happen, okay?” You squeeze her hand, “We’re here for you and the kids.”

Joaquin spoke up, “We have made arrangements just in case things go south, I’d suggest you to be ready to move anytime.”

“Okay.” looking at the kids playing in the living room, AJ laughing as Cass plays on the console, “I can’t let them be hurt again Y/N, they’ve been through so much.”

“I know.” You look at Joaquin, he gives you a smile and nods, a silent acknowledgement of the promise you were making to Sarah.

You will keep them safe, and Joaquin will be there for you.

---

Starry night sky, the cool lakeside breeze, and the slanted roof of the Wilson residence. 

You took a deep breath as you closed your eyes.

If this was six years ago, from the same spot you could hear Steve and Sam coming up with ideas to locate Bucky, Natasha and Clint in the backyard fighting over something stupid, Sarah and her late husband on the porch setting up the grill, and Wanda making things fly that made Baby AJ giggle.

You opened your eyes, but found only darkness ahead of you. That sliver of hope you had of watching your found family under one roof again was alive for five years… until the minute you saw Natasha didn’t return with Clint, Wanda not even looking in your direction at Tony’s funeral, and Steve going back in time without saying goodbye.

Your throat choked up trying not to cry as you recalled Natasha saving you from the hell called Red Room. She bought you up, taught you everything you know, she was the reason you were alive in the first place. Natasha was your sister in every sense, and she was taken away by fate.

Silently crying, you whisper a prayer off into the night.

“Is this seat taken?” you wiped off your eyes as you heard Joaquin.

He was standing on the attic window, two beers in hand. You shrug as he takes a seat next to you, handing you a beer.

“How did you find me?” you ask him.

“I didn’t actually,” he answers, “I just wanted a place to think for a while.” You notice the tension in his shoulders, he was trying too hard to act cool while something was clearly bothering him.

“Spit it out.” you nudge his shoulder with yours.

His deep brown eyes look at you as you take a sip, and he confesses, “I got a call before I came here. My Abuela.” He takes a deep breath, “She’s cooking up a feast for the local homeless shelter, and I know, I know she’s not well because her voice is raspy and she’s breathing too hard and I begged her to sit this one out, but she’s one stubborn woman, won’t even listen to her only grandson.”

You shock him with a laugh, looking at the dew on your bottle, “Sounds like someone I used to know.”

“Your ex?” he nudges your shoulder playfully.

You laugh, “My sister actually,” recalling flashes of red hair chasing you around the Avengers compound, “yeah, she was a force to be reckoned with.”

“She passed away a year ago.” You admit it out loud, it felt weird to talk about her in the past tense.

You feel his body go rigid beside you, “I’m sorry, I thought…”

“It’s alright.” You look at him, and smile involuntarily, “Natasha was more of a mother to me than a sister, and I can’t believe I’m saying it out loud but… I miss her.”

He acknowledges you silently. But after some time, you hear it in his voice; the moment it hits him, “Natasha… as in… Natasha Romanoff?”

It made you laugh; his jaw wide open in shock, eyes wide. He looked like his eyes would come out of his head. “I don’t go by Y/N Romanoff, for people to react like that.” You point at him and he closes his mouth.

“How… I didn’t know… but you two-”

“- look different?” you bring your knees closer, wrapping your arms around them, “I was adopted.”

“ohhhh.” He drew out the exclamation, taking his sweet time not knowing what else to say.

“She saved me from the Red Room. Took me under the wing, sent me to High School… God knows how that went.” You laughed recalling the absolute menace you were during your teens. “If there was mischief in school, my name was somehow related. And Nat was always there to get me out of it. Except for that one time I blew up the toilets to rebel against the dress code… said I deserved getting suspended.” The fight you had afterwards… Steve and Tony had to interfere or else you both would have torn each other’s heads off.

“My mom once got a call from the local ER when I was twelve.” He spoke up, looking at the stars and a smile spreading on his face, “I drove my bike off of the road and straight into the canal, and hit my head pretty hard. She was mad as hell and Abuela won’t stop fussing about me. I was grounded for the entire semester, but every night we three would sit in the living room to watch whatever was on Cartoon Network.”

There was sadness laced in every word of his, “That was the last summer I had with her. She passed away a few months later.”

You could not say anything.

You knew exactly how he was feeling right this moment, that empty feeling inside your chest left behind after somebody’s gone. You silently hold his hand, acknowledging the hurt he must be going through.

“I must be the last person you want to hear this from, but, know that the hurt you’re feeling right now, y/n,” he gently grasps your hand, “it’s just all the love you have for the person you lost. I don’t want to say it gets easier, but you get better at letting it out over time.”

“Thank you, Joaquin.”

He smiles, taking a sip from his bottle glancing at you. Dark brown pupils looking right into yours.

Damn he’s pretty.

Your heart dropped a beat, a funny feeling in your chest unblurring the next second.

The first thing Natasha and Clint taught you was how to read people. You could tell what was going on in someone’s head just by looking at their subconscious cues. A voice in your head pointing out everything you need to know about them.

It was quite silly to be honest, that voice inside your head that had been quiet for a while now, was screaming at you for not looking at what was right in front of you…

You liked him.

---

“I was not expecting that.” You speak into Sam’s empty room, standing on the doorway with Joaquin.

Cass and AJ had separate rooms, Sarah had hers, and the only empty one was Sam's, which you were to share with Joaquin.

“I’ll sleep on the couch.” He says unprompted.

“No, no, Joaquin, we traveled for the entire day. We’re both tired. We can share the bed.” He was too tall to fit on the couch anyways.

 He picked his bags and settled in, “You sure?”

“Yeah. It’s fine. No worries.”

Worries, y/n, you’re not doing this out of goodwill. I mean… His arms? Just imagine how they would look wrapped around your-

You let out an internal scream and started unpacking your luggage before you did something scandalous, freshened up in the washroom and returned to the room to see him lying on one side of the bed, his back to you, wearing only sweatpants and a white vest. Your eyes were drawn straight to his biceps, they looked like they belonged to some sculpture in the dim lamplight.

Someone works out.

You immediately slapped a hand on your mouth realizing you said that out loud. Frozen with embarrassment, you waited to see if he heard that.

When you were certain he didn’t, you took your place on the other side, and were immediately knocked out by the exhaustion.

---

Next Day

You woke up to the smell of pancakes and the shouts of AJ and Cass from the backyard. You stretched out, thinking of any tasks you had to do today. You'd helped Sarah pack a go-bag yesterday and set up the alarms around the house. The only task left was to have a look at the Attic. The clutter filled there could be the best hiding spot for anyone.

After sniffing the smell of fresh pancakes for the second time, you couldn't resist any longer. You swung your legs over the side of the bed and padded downstairs.

Sarah and Joaquin were laughing in the kitchen, the sound warm and inviting. He was wearing an Air Force t-shirt over his sweatpants, his hair still damp from his shower, and a lazy smile playing on his lips. Of course he's a morning person, you thought, a pang of envy hitting you.

"Good morning sleepyhead," Sarah called out, her eyes twinkling.

Joaquin looked up, his smile widening as he saw you. You realized, with a jolt, that you were still in your Naruto pajamas, your hair a complete mess. Panic surged through you, but when you saw him smiling at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners, you relaxed slightly.

"Morning," you mumbled, taking a seat at the table.

"Joaquin made these," Sarah announced proudly, placing a plate of golden brown pancakes in front of you. "They're incredible."

"They are," you agreed, already taking a bite. "God bless you, Sarah, these are heavenly."

"Oh, that's all Joaquin," Sarah said, pouring you a tall glass of something. "I just made the milkshakes."

"Milkshakes!" you exclaimed, your eyes widening.

"Chocolate and caramel," she said, placing the glass in front of you. "With extra cream."

"Thank you!" You high-fived her, then turned to Joaquin. "And thank you, for the pancakes."

"Anytime," he said, taking a bite of his own pancake. He met your gaze, a slow, appreciative smile gracing his lips. You swore you saw a glint of something in his eyes – amusement? Admiration? Something more? You blinked, suddenly unsure of yourself.

Is my head playing tricks with me? you wondered, your heart pounding a little faster than it should be.

---

“Can I ask you something?”

“Hmm…”

“Uhh… What's the whole deal with John Walker?” Joaquin asked while fixing a sensor on the attic window.

All afternoon you had been setting up sensors anywhere there was a blind spot. You don’t want to scare Sarah, but your gut would not be satisfied until the house was a fortress.

“It’s the government’s doing to be honest. I have a feeling it’s gonna implode royally and they’ll be doing anything to cover it up.” You looked up from your tablet, “including taking down Walker.”

“Damn.” He stopped, climbing down the window still, “you speak like you’ve witnessed this before.”

You let out a dry laugh, connecting the sensor to your tablet, “I saw the Avengers being torn apart from the inside.”

“Wait,” he tilts his head, his hair bouncing while doing so, “you were with the Avengers during the Sokovia Accords?”

“Yep.” You sit along the wall under the open window, with the sunlight pooled into the attic and cool air rushing in, and pat the space next to you, “I was eight maybe, when Natasha and Clint saved me from being an assassin for The Red Room.” You took a deep breath, “Grew up with them, I stayed mostly on the sidelines until the Civil War. Then it was three years of being blacklisted by the government and whatnot.” he takes a seat right next to you, your shoulders touching.

“Enough about me,” you look at him, “What about you? Where are you from?”

“Born in Mexico, raised in Arizona.” He looks at you, his eyes in the sunlight shining bright.

Can eyes sparkle? I’ve never seen someone’s eyes sparkle before.

“Damn. Grand Canyons, huh.” you smile as you imagined him in hiking gear.

“Yeah, I’ve been there many times and believe me… it takes my breath away every single time.”

You huff out, “I always wanted to hike on that trail, never got the chance.”

“Maybe you can come with me after all this is over.” He says coyly, nudging your shoulder, “I can show you around, we can go visit other places, Horseshoe Bend, Havasu Falls…”

Y/n… just say it. He can’t be more obvious than this.

You smirk, “Joaquin Torres,” he looks at you, his cheeks turning red, “are you asking me out on a date?”

“Maybe… if you want to.” He looks at the ceiling, and to your amusement, you realize he was blushing, “And I promise I won’t scam you for money…” you laugh out loud, “I’m always up for hiking the trail, you know, because I work out.”

You groan in between laughing, “you heard that!”

“Yeah, I heard you checking me out…”

“…I wasn’t checking you out!” you fall back on the wall, “You have nice arms. That’s all.” You try not to smirk, but you see him do so from the corner of your eye.

“That’s all? What about my sensor uploading skills?” he wavered his eyebrows.

“10 by 10. You remain undefeated.”

Silence falls over as you keep stealing glances at each other. It’s only broken when he says, “You’re really pretty by the way.”

You laugh, and nudge his shoulder, “just pretty?”

“…and a Geek, you looked great in those Naruto pajamas…”

You hide your face in your hands but he continues, “Where did you get them? Costco?”

“I went on tour to Japan, so…” you look into those chocolaty brown eyes again, his face in the sunlight makes his features stand out, your attention going to his lips.

“Maybe you could take me with you next time.” He says, holding your hand, caressing the back as he looks at your lips.

“Only if you want to.” You whisper, leaning in, praying you weren’t reading this wrong.

Joaquin took hold of your neck, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. He pulled you closer, your lips meeting in the middle with a soft, exploratory touch. His lips were soft, as you'd imagined, and his hands cradled your face, his thumbs gently stroking your cheekbones. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, desperate for more. His tongue darted out, tasting you, a low groan rumbling in his chest that sent shivers down your spine. You wanted him to do more, go further, and you pulled back slightly, your eyes searching his.

Before Joaquin could protest, you straddled him, pushing him back against the wall. His eyes widened in surprise, a predatory glint entering them. You crashed your mouth on his, this time with a fierce urgency. The soft exploration of your first kiss quickly escalated into a desperate demand, your bodies pressed together, a primal need igniting within you.

"Fuck... y/n," he groaned, his hands gripping your hips, his fingers digging into your skin. He pulled back slightly, his lips leaving a trail of hot kisses down your neck, his breath fanning against your skin. He found the sweet spot on your pulse, sucking on it with a possessive intensity that made you arch against him. You gasped, clutching at his shirt, your nails digging into the fabric.

He leaned back, his eyes closed, a blissful moan escaping his lips. "God, you taste incredible," he whispered, his voice rough with desire. He kissed you again, this time a slow, deliberate exploration, his tongue tracing the inside of your mouth, mapping every curve.

Every inch of your body seemed to ignite by his touch, time melting away. There was only him, his hands roaming over your body, his lips devouring yours, and the intoxicating feeling of desire that consumed you both.

High Pitched and Grating, a sensor alarm rang through the attic.

You retreat in shock, like two deer caught in headlights, and Joaquin grabs the tablet and sees where this was happening.

Blood drained from his face as you witnessed at least four flag smashers moving towards the Wilson residence, guns armed, maybe a mile away.

He gets up, “East side?” grabbing the tablet and locking the windows.

“I’ll get Sarah.” You reply, already on your feet rushing downstairs.

---

"Halt," Lucas whispered, his voice a low growl in the pre-dawn darkness. The team crouched low, their figures mere shadows against the backdrop of the dense forest. Sam Wilson's house loomed ahead, a beacon of normalcy in the encroaching gloom.

"I see only two people inside," Matt reported, his voice a whisper cutting through the silence. "No kids." He checked the thermal scanners, the infrared images flickering on his visor.

Artie, his face pale in the moonlight, grabbed Lucas's shoulder. "Karli didn't say anything about kids."

"She told us to bring them alive," Lucas reminded him, his eyes fixed on the house. "And they need to be unharmed for negotiation."

Nadia shifted uncomfortably, her hand tightening around the grip of her revolver. "I don't like this," she muttered, her voice laced with unease. "I didn't agree to harm any kids."

Lucas turned to her, his gaze sharp. "Nadia!" he hissed, his voice low and dangerous. "We're doing this. One way or the other. Stop whining and get to work."

He took a deep breath, the metallic scent intensifying. "One World..." he began, his voice echoing in the stillness.

"One people," his team responded in unison, their voices a low, guttural chant.

With a silent, coordinated movement, they emerged from the shadows, their figures gliding towards the Wilson residence, the air thick with anticipation and a chilling sense of foreboding.

---

"Go, go, go!" you barked, adrenaline surging through you. You snatched Sarah's bag, your fingers brushing against the cool metal of the handgun inside. You grabbed AJ's hand, his small fingers clutching yours tightly, and ushered them towards the waiting car.

Cass and Sarah were already running, their figures mere shadows against the encroaching twilight. You threw the bags in the backseat, your movements a blur, then helped Cass and AJ climb in.

Sarah slid behind the wheel, her face pale. "Y/n, what are you doing?!" she gasped, her eyes wide with disbelief.

"I have to stay here," you said, your voice firm. "Make sure they don't follow you." You shoved your Glock into Sarah's hand.

A roar from inside the house cut through the tension. "Y/n! They're here!" Joaquin's voice, amplified by the sudden silence, echoed through the air.

"Sarah, I promise I'll be fine," you said, your gaze locked with Cass's in the rearview mirror. Tears were streaming down her face, but she nodded, her small frame trembling. "You have to go." You shoved your tablet into her hands, a desperate plea in your eyes. "Remember what I told you earlier. You'll be safe here."

"Sarah, go!" you screamed, your voice hoarse.

You watched as the car lurched forward, disappearing down the dirt road that snaked towards the water. A beep on your watch confirmed her location, a fleeting sense of relief washing over you.

Phase One. Over.

Phase Two. Let's go.

You sprinted through the back door, the house suddenly feeling eerily silent. Joaquin was already there, a grim set to his jaw. He was clad in his SHIELD armor, the sleek black material gleaming in the dim light. Guns and your emergency bag lay scattered across the kitchen table, a grim testament to the impending battle. You stole a glance at the tablet, its screen flickering with life as it ran facial recognition on the figures outside.

"Ready?" you asked, your voice a low growl, as you slipped on the bulletproof vest and began loading the magazines.

"Yeah," Joaquin replied, his eyes scanning the room, assessing the situation.

You looked out the window, the setting sun casting long, eerie shadows across the yard. "Let's hope Sam doesn't sue us for destroying his house," you muttered.

To be continued...

Part 2

A/N - Thank you everyone for sticking with me till the end of this fic! if you liked it please let me know through the asks and the comments. Love y'all, Take Care!

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