drewskitten

[drewskitten]

⋆｡˚୨ breaking in and cleaning ୧˚｡⋆.

You’d never thought your boyfriend, Drew, would break into your place. Not because he was some criminal mastermind or anything, but because honestly? You’re a mess. You leave your apartment looking like a tornado hit it, and Drew, bless his soul, has tried dropping hints. Like, “Maybe put your laundry in the hamper?” or “Have you seen the floor under your shoes recently?” But you? You just laugh and brush it off, because come on, life’s too short to obsess over a little clutter; even if it does look a complete mess.

Tonight, you were out with your friends, glasses clinking, laughter filling the room, and you’re blissfully unaware of what’s going on back at your place.

Until, out of nowhere, the ADT alarm alert sound of your front door opening breaks through your notifications.

“Alright, mission ‘Save My Messy Girlfriend’s Apartment’ is a go,” Drew whispers with a smirk, slipping off his jacket and eyeing the disaster zone you call a living room.

There were clothes on the couch, empty takeout boxes stacked like a leaning tower, and your bed looked like a hurricane had gone through.

“Jesus, babe. How do you live like this?” he teases, eyes twinkling with amusement, speaking to no one other than your camera in the corner.

You roll your eyes when he texts you from the couch, “Your place looks like a crime scene.”

You laugh, shaking your head. You know him too well.

Drew’s hands are already moving, tossing dirty laundry into the hamper like a pro, sweeping crumbs into the trash, muttering, “You know, for all your messiness, you really are lucky I’m hopelessly in love with you.”

You grin reading the message, but then it hits you - you’re missing your boyfriend. The thought of him rummaging through your mess, trying to clean, turns that familiar heat in your chest.

　𓃹

You get home, surprised to find the place spotless.

“Okay okay, what the hell?” you ask, kicking off your shoes as he leans against the kitchen counter, looking impossibly good even with his sleeves rolled up.

“Surprise,” he says, that devilish grin spreading across his face. “Thought I’d make it easier for you to come home tonight.”

You lean in, tugging at his shirt. “You could’ve just asked me to clean.”

Drew’s eyes darken, voice dropping to a low rumble. “Nah, I wanted to see if you’d appreciate me showing up unannounced - and maybe get a little reward for my hard work.”

You smirk. “Oh, really? And what kind of reward are we talking about here?”

He steps closer, heat radiating off him, fingers sliding under your shirt. “Something that involves me, you, and that couch you never clean.”

You laugh, a smile filling your face. “You’re impossible.”

Drew pulls you into a kiss, teasing, “Only for you.”

[drewskitten]

⋆｡˚୨ golf day ୧˚｡⋆.

The thing about golfing with Drew is - well he’s hot, he knows it, and he absolutely uses it against you.

You’re not even halfway through the first hole, and he’s already tossing smirks your way like he’s teeing them up. “You know,” he says, gripping the club with those stupidly large hands of his, “there’s something kinda sexy about a girl in a golf skirt.”

You arch a brow, sunglasses perched halfway down your nose. “You say that like you’re not trying to distract me so I shank my shot.”

He laughs, stepping back so you can line up your swing. “Distract you? Never. I’m just appreciating the view.”

“Of the green?”

“Of you, baby.”

You roll your eyes but you can’t hide the grin. The man has a way of charming you even when you’re trying to focus on not slicing the ball into a sand trap.

Golf wasn’t your thing. Not really. But dating Drew means saying yes to new things - golf included. Especially when he shows up in a fitted ralph lauren polo, aviators, and that backwards cap that shouldn’t be legal on a man that fine.

“You know, this was supposed to be a relaxing day,” you say, planting your feet and exhaling slowly.

“Then why’d you bring me?”

You swing. The ball connects clean - low and fast. It hits the fairway with a satisfying thud and rolls like it knows exactly what it’s doing.

Drew whistles. “Damn. Okay, Tigerette.”

You glance over your shoulder. “Still think I’m a distraction?”

“I think you’re insane.”

He steps up for his shot. You cross your arms, watching the muscles shift in his back as he lines it up. His swing is clean, practiced, way too pretty for someone who claims he ‘only plays on weekends.’ The ball soars.

You whistle. “Okay, showoff.”

He winks. “Let me teach you something.”

“Oh, this should be good.”

Drew drops his club and comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, palms firm but slow. “Grip’s all wrong,” he murmurs in your ear, low and lazy.

“I just hit a perfect shot.”

“Yeah, but imagine what you could do if I had my hands all over you the whole time.”

Your breath catches. You shift slightly, but he just tightens his hold. “You always this helpful?”

“Only when there’s potential for reward.”

You turn in his arms, facing him. “What kind of reward are we talking?”

He leans in, brushing his lips just shy of yours. “You. Backseat. Clubhouse parking lot.”

You grin. “So not subtle.”

“Not trying to be.”

　𓃹

By hole six, you’ve stopped pretending this is about golf as you lean against the cart, sipping your water, watching Drew stretch like he’s auditioning for a calendar.

“You do know I’m not actually here for the golf, right?” you ask.

“Oh, I know,” he says, barely glancing back. “You’re here for the fantasy.”

“What fantasy?”

“Hot guy. Empty golf course. Lots of grass to roll around on. Very high school musical.”

You snort. “Oh, so humble, Mr. Starkey.”

He tosses you a wink. “Come on. Next hole. You can ride with me.”

He drives like a menace - one hand on the wheel, the other on your thigh, thumb brushing back and forth, making plans.

“Hands on the wheel, Starkey.”

“Hands on you, more like.”

The cart skids slightly, causing you to yelp, to which he grins brightly.

You reach over and kill the ignition. “Pull over.”

He does.

“You got something to say?” he asks, leaning back, one brow lifted.

You climb into his lap the same way you’ve done a hundred times. “Not say. Show.”

And then you kiss him - deep, messy, unforgiving. making him groan into your mouth, hands gripping your hips as you roll them just enough to tease.

“You’re trouble,” he murmurs.

“You started it.”

He nips your bottom lip. “Wanna finish it?”

Your hips roll again..he groans. “Backseat. Now.”

　𓃹

The back of the cart isn’t made for this kind of activity, but you two make it work. His polo’s half off within seconds, while yours is bunched around your ribs.

“You always wear this little skirt to play dirty?” he breathes into your neck.

“Only for you.”

Clothes are scattered over the grass. Fingers sliding up and down and all over. Moans echoing across the open field.

“Fuck,” he groans as you sink down on him, your hands braced on his chest.

“You feel so good,” you pant, rolling your hips, chasing that high.

“Ride me, baby. Just like that, my pretty girl.” He purrs out, arms tight around you, head tucked into your shoulder.

　𓃹

After the fourth or fifth climax, you both lie there, breathing hard and naked, and the sun begins to set. “So,” he murmurs, brushing hair from your face, “best golf date ever?”

You smile. “Might be better than sex on a yacht.”

He grins. “Might?”

You kiss him again. “Let’s do hole seven. See if you can top it.”

He laughs. “Challenge accepted.”

[drewskitten]

how babysitter!reader came into dilf!art’s life ۶ৎ

it all started with both tashi and art realising that they’d constantly need help looking after lily, considering how busy they were.

with art being a household name in the tennis world even after retiring, opting to coach university tennis, tashi now coaching patrick and tashi’s mother growing older, they needed someone there full time to watch lily.

tashi had heard of you through a friend of her’s, immediately scheduling an interview; you agreed of course, you studied online so your schedule was flexible, always happy to have a new kid to babysit, it helped that the pay was usually good too.

you weren’t quite into sports, let alone tennis, so hearing the shrill scream of your friend when you’d told her who called you was some revelation, immediately pulling up both tashi and art’s instagrams for you to look at, your friend ranting ceremoniously about how the donaldson’s were the IT couple of the tennis world.

her ramblings fell on deaf ears as that day was the first time you felt your stomach swoon at the sight of art donaldson (and unbeknownst to you, many more moments like these were to come).

the day you had scheduled with tashi finally arrived, all smiles as you properly introduced yourself to both her and lily, surely overcompensating for feeling disappointed that you hadn’t seen or met art yet since you’d arrived.

she asked you all the routine questions, and eventually settled on a test day to see how you’d be with lily; you agreed and as she saw you out, you caught the slightest glimpse of art in their home gym, cursing to yourself for even looking; i mean the man could be your new boss and not to mention he was married! to a very beautiful, powerful and intimidating woman.

after your trial run with lily, the little girl was all too enthusiastic about you being her new babysitter, nonstop talking her mom’s ear off about how much the two of you had that day, getting you into tashi’s good books.

you still hadn’t properly met art, pushing the thought to the back of your mind on your first official day as lily’s babysitter, tashi failing to mention that art had still been home when you’d arrived, collecting the keys by the guard, to enter their home, your footsteps echoing through the empty halls as you made your way to lily’s room.

“tashi that you? you forgot your laptop—“ art’s words died in his throat as he came face to face with you, no not his wife, but instead his daughter’s really young and beautiful babysitter, the very picture of forbidden fruit, clad in a pastel pink baby tee and the tightest low rise jean’s.

your eyes nearly jumped from your skull, face to face with a shirtless art donaldson, nothing but a white towel hugging his hips. you weren’t religious by any means but you felt the need to confess your sins the moment you took your eyes off of him, your mind a messy maze of inappropriate thoughts of mr donaldson.

his soft voice calling out to you snapped you from your daze, his hand reaching out to shake yours as he introduced himself, calloused hand rough against your smooth one, also completely dwarfing your hand with his, the sight lighting a fire inside of art that hadn’t been burning for a while now.

“it’s uhm, it’s a pleasure to meet you mr. donaldson,” you almost squeaked out, fighting the succubus inside yourself threatening to make an appearance, willing yourself to keep your eyes on his face.

“please, call me art,” he hummed, the faintest smile gracing his angelic features, burrowing your nails into your palm as you clenched your fist, trying to keep yourself composed.

you nodded awkwardly, your thoughts catching up moments later, only to find yourself making direct eye contact with his chiseled chest, face burning hot as you redirected your gaze, leaving art to stifle a cocky laugh before speaking up, “i’ll leave you to lily then,” he murmured, the most panty dropping smirk spreading across his lips as he watched you scurry off to lily’s room, committing the flush on your cheeks, the colour of your eyes and the gentle sway of your hips to memory.

oh he was so done for.

۶ৎ next part: dilf!art and babysitter!reader going to lily’s ballet recital together!

۶ৎ thank you for reading 🍰!

۶ৎ tags: @bluemerakis @lacydollette @voidsuites @fawnhart @cherrygirlfriend @nemesyaaa @dulcescorderitas @matchpointfaist

۶ৎ dilf!art and babysitter!reader masterlist

[drewskitten]

‎ SLEEPY KISSES

summary: rafe is extra clingy when he’s half asleep, and he loves to shower you with kisses before going to bed.

he was always so clingy when he was sleepy. his half asleep state was the most adorable thing you´ve ever seen.

he climbed into bed with you, with a soft grunt. his cheek squishing against the pillow, as he stared at you with those sleepy beautiful blue eyes, admiring you silently. "You going to sleep?" you asked, looking down at him, your fingers reaching over and giving his head a soft little massage.

a small hum left his lips as he felt your fingers "yeah." he mumbled, his voice a silent whisper, you let out a small giggle "Goodnight, baby." you said in a loving voice. he frowned "i gotta give you goodnight kisses though." he stated as he propped himself up on his elbows

"you can barely keep your eyes open," you teased, his pout deepened.

He shook his head "don´t matter, baby." he mumbled, his face was just inches from yours.

Before you could respond, his lips found yours in the softest, sweetest kiss. It was slow and lazy, just like him in that moment, warm and full of affection. He pulled back only slightly, his blue eyes fluttering half-open again as he whispered, “Goodnight kiss number one.” he smiled lazily

His lips moving across your cheek, pressing soft kisses all around your face.

he kissed you again, this time a little longer, with his fingers lazily grazing your arm. “goodnight kiss number two.” you chuckled "how many more?" you smiled, as his lips moved over to press more kisses all over your face

"one more." his voice quiet and lazy. He kissed you again, this time more passionate, and longer than the others. "goodnight kiss number three." he smiled against your lips, as he pulled away, and shut his eyes.

he’d already collapsed halfway onto you, his head resting against your chest, his breathing slowing.

His stubbornness gave way to sleep, and you couldn’t help but smile as you ran your fingers through his buzzed hair, whispering, “goodnight, rafe.”

‎‎ ‎‎ 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 , 𝐛𝐞𝐚

𝐚/𝐧 — my shayla :(( i apolgoize for any misspells or bad grammar, english is not my first language.

@marrykisskilled @chrislilcumslvt @sosasturns @cyberskulzzz @slut4chris888 @waitforyrlove @sturnioloangell @slctsblogana @anyaa2s @emely9274 @shadowthesim @frankoceanfanpage @mrsarnold @freshloveee @t0riiiis @jetaimevous @sturn777 @sturniologirlzz @venusbabysblog @ch6rm @sturniolossss @mattsbrowser @sturnlsstuff @chrissweetheart @lizzyzzn @sophand4n4

[drewskitten]

⋆｡˚୨ getting asked on a date ୧˚｡⋆.

You weren’t supposed to meet Drew Starkey.

Well, not in the way you did, at least - not in Madelyn’s kitchen, balancing a glass of cheap sauvignon blanc on your forearm and trying not to look like you’d just sprinted from your car because you were late. Again.

“I’m not kidding, if you ghost on this dinner I swear I’ll block your number,” Madelyn had texted an hour ago. “And you’ll never get your damn Tupperware back.”

So, naturally, you show up - winded, hair slightly wild, phone dead - and stumble into her Hollywood bungalow. What you weren’t expecting was the six-foot-something tornado of denim and charm leaning against her fridge.

You almost drop your wine when you see him.

Madelyn clocks your reaction immediately. “Oh, this is Drew - Drew, this is her.”

He quirks a brow. “Her?”

Madelyn grins wickedly. “She knows what that means.”

You clear your throat, playing it cool even though your palms are suddenly sweaty and your heart is doing that annoying little flutter. “That sounds way more mysterious than it needs to be.”

Drew grins, hand extended. “Mysterious’s kind of my thing.”

You shake it - firm, warm, a lot rougher than you expected. God, you think, he’s got hands like a man who can ruin you in five minutes flat.

“Drew’s crashing for a while,” Madelyn says, already turning back to the stove. “Between places.”

And just like that, he’s in your orbit.

　𓃹

The night goes down easy - wine, pasta, way too many inappropriate jokes - and you find yourself sitting on the back porch next to him, a blanket shared between you, maddie's fire pit flickering in the dark.

“Madelyn wasn’t kidding,” he says, glancing at you over the rim of his beer. “You’ve got a mouth on you.”

You raise a brow. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Oh, it’s not,” Drew drawls. “Just…dangerous.”

You grin. “I’m not dangerous. I’m delightful.”

“I think you’re trouble.”

“Only if you ask nicely.”

He chokes on his beer. You smirk into your wine. Check fucking mate.

　𓃹

After that, it’s casual texts. Memes. Tiktok streaks. Flirty jabs. The occasional FaceTime when he’s bored or on set, which turns into late-night talks that stretch too long.

He learns how you like your coffee. You learn that he sleeps shirtless, hates tomatoes, and has a laugh that could quite literally make a nun reconsider her vows.

You flirt, sure - but it always stops short. Neither of you calls it what it is.

Until one night.

　𓃹

Madelyn’s hosting another 'event' - lowkey this time, just a few people. You were halfway through a gin and tonic when you feel Drew behind you, his voice low in your ear.

“Come outside with me.”

You turn to him with a laugh. “Why? So you can compliment my outfit in private?”

He gives you a lazy smile. “If I start, I won’t stop.”

You blink. That was bolder than usual.

Still, you follow him.

He leans against her fence, arms crossed, eyes on you like he’s figuring out how to say something he’s never said before.

You fidget with your sleeve. “Okay, what’s with the brooding stare? You about to monologue or something?”

He laughs, eyes warm. “Not a monologue. Just a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Do you wanna go out with me?”

You freeze. “Oh like…a date?”

He nods. “Yeah. Like a real one. Where I pick you up. And pay for your food. And kiss you at the end if I don’t screw it up.”

“I- ”

“Unless you’d rather keep texting me emojis and pretending we’re not into each other,” he adds with a grin.

You recover quickly. “Who says I’m into you?”

“Oh, come on. You flirt like it’s your job.”

You take a step forward, emboldened. “And if I say yes?”

His grin softens. “Then I’m yours for the night.”

Your mouth curves. “Only the night?”

“Let’s start there,” he says. “See where it goes.”

[drewskitten]

꒰୨୧◞ 。anaïs⠀.ᐟ⠀infj⠀₊ ˚⊹ recent work

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