#drew starkey x you

[simpforboys]

surprise!

drew starkey x fem!singer!reader

summary: ever since the reader started blowing up, all the interviews and promotions that would ask her who her celebrity crush is, she always had the same answer. so when Jimmy Fallon invites her on his show, he might have a surprise in store…

warnings: fluff!! second hand embarrassment, reader gushes about Drew, she’s just a fangirl at heart

‘perfume’ by del water gap mentioned <3

2020

“Who’s your celebrity crush?”

“Drew Starkey, he plays Rafe in Outer Banks.”

“Do you have a celebrity crush?

“Yeah, Drew Starkey from Outer Banks.”

“Are there any people you would hope to collab with or meet?”

“Definitely Drew Starkey from Outer Banks.”

2021

“Last year you said multiple times Drew Starkey is your celebrity crush, is this still true?”

“Yeah, he’s still my main one.”

“Are there any guys you’re interested in?”

“My dream guy is Drew Starkey, if that’s what you mean.”

“What’s your type in a man?”

“Umm… probably Drew Starkey.”

2022

“Update us on all the boy drama! Anyone interesting?”

“Just waiting for Drew Starkey.”

“You look stunning! Are you here with anyone tonight?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Your crush around Drew Starkey, is that still a thing?”

“It still is… have you seen his new movie ‘Hellraiser’?”

2023

“Your new EP just released, are any of the songs about Drew Starkey?”

“Not on this one, no. Maybe the next one.”

“Are you seeing anyone? Has Drew Starkey called?”

“No, not yet. Maybe next year.”

“Have you seen season three of ‘Outer Banks’ yet?”

“Yes, oh my god! Drew looked so good.”

2024

“Your new song ‘Perfume’ is an absolute hit! Is it about Drew Starkey?”

“Omg, no, but it should’ve been.”

“You’ve quickly risen to fame! Has Drew Starkey noticed you yet?”

“Unfortunately, no. He’s probably hiding.”

Ever since your career started, in every single interview you get the question regarding celebrity crushes, the answer was always the same.

Drew Starkey.

It became a known meme revolving you and your fans, along with the media. Practically every interview just loved to teased you about your known celebrity crush.

Your popularity rose more in 2023 to 2024, so, when Jimmy Fallon reached out to you to have you on his show, your agency immediately agreed.

Standing behind the curtain wearing a tight brown suit, the pants wide-leg. Black boots were your choice of footwear, your makeup done perfectly to match the outfit.

“Ladies and gentlemen, bring your hands together for Y/n L/n!”

When Jimmy announced your name, you came out from behind the curtain, a big smile on your face as you waved to the audience.

Shaking hands and hugging some of the crew members before you finally hugged Jimmy, settling down in the blue chair.

“How are you doing tonight?” Jimmy asks with a warm smile.

“I’m doing good! Pretty nervous to be honest, this is my first talkshow.” You answered sincerely.

The audience clapped and Jimmy sunk back in his seat a little more.

“Well, I’m glad to be your first one! So, your new song ‘Perfume’ recently came out, congratulations on 200 million streams.”

“Thank you so much, really.” Your hands were shaking as you fidgeted with the brown fabric on your knee, one leg crossed over the other.

“So, you’ve been singing since 2020?” Jimmy asks.

“Yeah, I started posting videos on Tik Tok but my career really took off at the end of 2023 and now here we are.” You smile, the whole experience still so surreal.

“Your voice is phenomenal, seriously. I’ll need to have you come back and sing on the show for us.” Jimmy says, causing the audience to erupt into cheers.

You laughed a little, nodding your head. “Of course, anytime.”

Jimmy continued to talk to you for a few more minutes about your career, the conversation flowing smoothly as you cracked some nervous jokes.

“So, I have to ask, Y/n. Since your career began you’ve said your celebrity crush is Drew Starkey, can you tell us more about this?”

You felt your face get a little warm as you shifted in your seat, an anxious smile on your lips.

“I dunno, I guess I’ve just always found him attractive. He’s insanely talented and just seems like a very genuine soul.” You say sheepishly, avoiding looking at the camera.

“He’s also becoming more and more popular right now, with season four of ‘Outer Banks’ that came out in October and November along with his new movie ‘Queer’.” Jimmy adds on.

“Yeah, I’m a pretty big fan so I’ve been following along with it. I’m very proud of him, in like a supportive-fan way.” You say, making the audience laugh at the last part.

You were completely oblivious to Jimmy looking behind you, motioning with his hand underneath his desk.

“So it’s not just his looks?” Jimmy teases.

“I mean, he’s a very beautiful man. He looks good with any haircut especially that mullet he had last year — and oh my god, he just looked so good in season four of ‘Outer Banks.’ Plus he has these big biceps that just bulge out of any shirt.”

You hadn’t even realized you were gushing over your celebrity crush until you finally caught yourself, hearing the audience laughing.

“Oh, gosh. You are really into him, huh?” Jimmy teases.

“What would you do if he was standing right behind you?” The host asks.

If you weren’t so nervous from being on a national talkshow you probably would’ve understood his message.

But your brain caused you to miss it, being as oblivious as ever.

“Probably pass out.” You answered, hearing the audience giggle more. Jimmy had an amused grin on his face.

“Please don’t pass out.”

Your posture immediately straightened, body tense as you stood up from the seat.

Turning around, your heart dropped to your stomach when you saw Drew fucking Starkey standing there.

The audience’s laughter grew as well as Jimmy’s, clearly satisfied with the surprise.

Your hands went to cover your mouth, face feeling hot like you had a fever. You just gushed about this man practically to his face.

“Hi, Y/n. I’m Drew.”

You couldn’t respond, just in pure shock as you stare at the tall man.

Drew also looked a little sheepish, his cheeks pink as he grinned at you.

“Did you— did you hear everything?” You finally managed to choke out.

“Maybe.” Drew chuckled, scratching the side of his neck.

“How do you feel after hearing all that, Drew?” Jimmy chuckles.

“I’m honored,” Drew replies.

You hated the way he fucking said that and the way you understood that reference.

Drew held his hand out for you to shake, but your heart was beating too fast and your brain was turning into nervous mush that you just embarrassed yourself in front of your dream man.

“Are you going to shake his hand? Hug him?” Jimmy chuckled.

“I’m… scared.” You murmured, the audience swooning and giggling over your shyness.

“Can I hug you?” Drew asked.

Stunned, your head slowly nodded. His strong arms wrapped around your body, your forehead resting against his shoulder.

You couldn’t even hug him back properly, just too much in shock. He smelt like cologne and it made your knees weak.

“I love your new song, by the way.” Drew murmured softly in your ear.

“Yeah?” You whisper, feeling like an idiot for the way you were reacting in front of him.

Drew just nods and hums, soothingly caressing your back in an effort to calm you down.

“Ladies and gentlemen, give it up one last time for Y/n L/n and Drew Starkey!” Jimmy has to end the segment.

The audience cheers as Drew continues to embrace you.

He had known about you for the last few months, having a few of your songs in his playlists.

He was just constantly busy so he never really got the chance to reach out, but when Jimmy’s team contacted him about surprising you on the show, he was excited.

And nervous.

“Sorry about surprising you like that.” Jimmy comes over, causing you and Drew to finally pull away.

“You gave me trust issues for talkshows now.” You said jokingly, finally calming down a bit.

Drew and Jimmy both laughed softly.

The film crew told you and Drew that the commercial break would be ending soon so to step off stage.

You did your signature on the wall dedicated to Jimmy’s guests, feeling familiar blue eyes gazing at you.

After thanking each crew member and shaking hands or hugging, an assistant pointed you and Drew towards where a car will take you both back to your perspective hotels.

“You ready?” Drew asked you.

You nodded, feeling nervous due to the fact that you were about to be alone in the back of a car with your celebrity crush, other than the driver in the front.

Drew opened the door for you as you climbed in, hyperaware of how he slid in behind you onto the leather seat.

It was quiet for a few moments, you nervously fidgeting with the rings on your fingers.

“So… you like my new song?”

You finally manage to choke out.

Drew smiled softly, turning his head to look at you. He was still a little flustered at everything that happened, but also very amused.

“I do, yeah. Are you going to shoot a music video for it?” Drew asked.

You nod, making eye contact with him.

“Yeah, my idea is to tell a story about these two lovers who move to like a quieter part, I was thinking either the forest or a desert, that live in poorer conditions but are completely happy and content because they have each other. I want it to be full of love, so kissing, affection, a sex scene.”

You rambled on to him, your eyes falling to your hands as you played with your rings.

“Oh, wow. That sounds cool as fuck.” Drew murmured, also watching your hands fidget. He thought it was cute.

“I’ve had the idea in my head for a few years, actually. I started writing ‘Perfume’ in like… 2021? So, I just want everything to be perfect.”

You added on, looking back at him. He had his left leg crossed over his knee, his body language towards you.

“Well… if you need a male costar, I would love to do it.” He gave you a smile.

A small grin curled onto your lips, stomach hurting at realization of what he just implied.

“Yeah?”

He nodded, licking his lips.

“Mhm. I told you, I love the song. Plus, your idea sounds amazing, and if you want me to, I would love to be apart of it.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat when it finally hit you that Drew fucking Starkey wanted to be your on-screen lover.

“You’re not just fucking with me, right?”

You had to ask, blurting it out of your nervous mouth.

Drew just snorted, shaking his head in amusement. “No, I’m not.”

“Okay… I’ll have my manager reach out to your’s about details for when we start shooting. I appreciate it a lot.”

You were unaware the car finally came to a stop, parked outside your hotel, fans and security guards waiting for you.

“Yeah, I’ll definitely be there. Have a good night, Y/n.”

Drew smiled at you, your heart fluttering.

“You too, Drew.”

You got out of the car, letting the security guards guide you inside the hotel. You tried your best to take photos or sign autographs for your dedicated fans, something Drew admired as he watched from the back of the SUV.

By the time you finally got back into your hotel room and kicked off your boots, you started taking off your jewelry.

Flopping down onto the bed, you grabbed your phone.

It felt like your heart dropped to your stomach when one notification specifically caught your eye.

@/drewstarkey started following you back

[rafecameronssl4t]

Actors on Actors || Drew Starkey x actress!reader

Summary: Actress!reader and Drew partaking in Variety's Actors on Actors!!

Warnings: not proofread sozz

Word count: 3,057 loooong one

A/n: damn I felt like I was in the interview room for this one

MASTERLIST

Drew couldn’t keep his eyes off you as the crew flitted around, prepping for the Actors on Actors interview with Variety. You were standing just a few feet away, laughing lightly at something one of the staff members had said, your head tilted back, eyes sparkling. To him, you looked utterly breathtaking—ethereal, even. Everyone knew Drew Starkey had the biggest crush on you.

He was never subtle about it, often caught in candid interviews or behind-the-scenes clips praising you, his admiration so obvious it became a running joke among his friends and colleagues. But right now, as he adjusted his mic and watched you from the corner of his eye, he wished he hadn’t been so vocal about it. His nerves were getting the best of him.

What if he said something dumb? What if you already thought he was just some lovesick fool? He swallowed hard, trying to calm the fluttering in his chest as you walked toward the set, your heels clicking softly against the floor. “Drew Starkey,” you greeted warmly, a radiant smile lighting up your features as you settled into the armchair opposite him.

You sat first, crossing your legs effortlessly, the picture of poise. “Y/n,” Drew smiled back, leaning forward slightly to kiss both of your cheeks. The casual intimacy of the gesture sent his pulse racing, but he played it cool as you let out a soft laugh, your perfume lingering faintly in the air.

“How’s it going?” he asked, his tone steady, though there was a barely perceptible edge to it—a nervous undertone that betrayed just how much this moment meant to him. His gaze lingered on yours, longer than what might be considered polite, but you didn’t seem to mind. “I’m good, and—” You paused mid-sentence as Drew suddenly leaned forward, his brows knitting together.

“Sorry—hold on,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower, softer, as his fingers reached toward the hem of your dress. “You’ve got a little something.” Before you could respond, he gently plucked a stray piece of lint from the fabric, his fingertips brushing ever so lightly against the material.

The touch was fleeting, almost inconsequential, but it sent a quiet thrill up your spine, one you quickly masked with a polite chuckle. “Oh��thanks,” you said, your voice airy as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re welcome,” Drew replied, his lips curving into a shy grin, his usual confidence momentarily replaced by something more boyish and endearing.

For a moment, you could swear his ears turned a little pink. You leaned back, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you studied him. Of course you knew Drew Starkey had a crush on you. It wasn’t exactly a secret.

But there was something undeniably flattering about it—something that made you feel just a bit lighter, a bit more self-assured. However, you'd be lying if you said you didn't have a crush on him. It was Drew Starkey after all.

Your eyes met again, and the silence between you stretched into something that felt almost electric. Both of you wore soft, bashful smiles, the moment teetering between unspoken words and playful tension. Finally, you broke into a small laugh, breaking the spell, and Drew looked away, scratching the back of his neck, his own smile lingering despite himself.

“You know,” you began, shifting slightly in your seat, “it’s kind of funny. We’ve both been at so many of the same events, but we’ve never actually talked until now.” Drew chuckled, his posture relaxing just a little. “I know, right? It’s crazy. First time was… the Glass Onion premiere, wasn’t it?”

You nodded, humming in agreement. “Yeah, I was there supporting Madelyn," Drew spoke. "Ugh, I miss Maddie," You give a small pout as Drew chuckles. “And then Immaculate, I remember standing right behind you in the photo line.” You laughed, your cheeks warming at the memory.

“Oh my god, yes! And somehow, we still didn’t even say hi.” “And then the Queer premiere a couple weeks ago,” Drew said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Right,” you said, leaning forward slightly as your laughter softened into a chuckle. “It’s wild how we’ve been orbiting around each other this whole time.”

“Crazy, huh?” Drew murmured, his voice lower now, his eyes soft as they lingered on you. The way he looked at you was different—not just admiration, but genuine warmth, curiosity, and something else you couldn’t quite place. “How’s everything been?” Drew asks, leaning back in his chair, his voice warm but tinged with curiosity, as if he genuinely wants to know every detail.

“It’s good,” you reply with a soft smile, shifting slightly in your seat. “I’m here in LA, which is nice—” Before you can finish, he interjects, his brow arching in curiosity. “You’re from New England, right?” You click your tongue playfully, tilting your head at him. “I see someone’s done their research, Mr. Starkey,” you tease, flashing him a playful wink.

Drew’s grin widens, and he throws his head back in laughter, the sound rich and easy, like he’s completely at ease for the first time since the cameras started rolling. “I had to, didn’t I? You’re not exactly an open book. I had to dig deep.” “Oh, is that so?” you challenge, your voice lilting with mock skepticism.

“Well, since you’re so curious, tell me—what do you know about New England?” you challenge, leaning forward slightly. He grins, but it’s a little sheepish. “Not much, if I’m honest. You’ll have to fill in the blanks for me. What’s it like there?” Your eyes widen in exaggerated disbelief, your hand fluttering to your chest like you’ve been insulted.

“Wait—you’ve never been? My goodness, Drew! Come with me, and I’ll show you around properly,” you say, your tone teasing but full of warmth. His smile softens, and he leans in just a little. “I’d like that very much,” he says, his voice carrying a quiet sincerity that makes your breath hitch for a fraction of a second. “Well then,” you reply with a chuckle, regaining your composure.

“I think we can organise something. You’re from North Carolina, yeah?” Drew hums in confirmation, his grin widening. “Born and raised. But I gotta admit, New England sounds pretty tempting now.” “It should,” you quip, pointing at him playfully. Then, after a beat, you lean in slightly, an amused gleam in your eye.

“Can I just say—and I’m sure you get this a lot—I’m a huge fan of Outer Banks.” Drew raises an eyebrow, his grin turning slightly bashful as he rubs the back of his neck. “Oh no, don’t tell me you’re team Pogue,” he jokes, but his eyes are fixed on you with a playful sparkle.

You snort softly, clasping your hands together in your lap. “Not quite. But I’ve gotta say, you play Rafe so convincingly. How do you approach a character like Rafe? I mean, you’re, you know… the complete opposite of him.” You chuckle, your words carrying a mix of admiration and disbelief.

Drew leans back in his chair, rubbing his chin thoughtfully before clearing his throat. “Well, Rafe is a challenge, to say the least. He’s not your typical villain. It’s easy to hate him on the surface, but if you dig deeper, he’s this broken guy with so many vulnerabilities. That’s where I try to focus—on making him human. I want people to see why he makes those awful decisions, even if they don’t agree with them. It’s all about balance.”

You nod, your expression softening as you listen. “That’s fascinating,” you say earnestly. “It’s definitely what makes him such a compelling character.” Drew smiles, but you notice something different about his gaze. He isn’t just answering your question—he’s watching you, his eyes holding a softness that makes your heart skip a beat.

Before the moment can linger too long, Drew shifts the focus back to you. “And your character in Ghosted,” he says, his voice warm and curious. “It’s so different from anything you’ve done before. How did you prepare for that role?” You smile at the question, grateful for his genuine interest.

“It was a lot of emotional work,” you admit, leaning back slightly. “She’s so different from me in so many ways. I spent a lot of time understanding her motivations, her fears, and what drives her. It’s a very internal role, so the process was… draining, to say the least. But also rewarding.” Drew’s lips curve into a soft smile as he leans forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees.

“Sounds intense,” he says, his voice quieter now. “I’ve always wondered in the film how you guys manage to keep it together when the emotions run that deep.” You shrug lightly, a thoughtful smile tugging at your lips. “It’s not easy, but that’s the beauty of the craft, isn’t it? Tapping into those emotions and channelling them into something real.”

Drew nods, his expression softening even further. There’s something unspoken in his gaze—something that lingers longer than words can express. “Yeah,” he says finally, his voice dropping just a fraction. “I get that. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re incredible. I’ve seen your work—it’s inspiring.” His words hang in the air, heavy with sincerity, and you can’t help the rush of warmth that floods your chest.

A small, genuine smile spreads across your face. “I could say the same for you,” you reply softly, your eyes meeting his. For a moment, it’s like the rest of the room fades away, leaving just the two of you, sharing something unspoken yet deeply understood. Drew shifts in his seat, leaning forward slightly, his curiosity evident. “So, let’s talk about Saltburn. You played Venetia Catton. How did you even begin to prepare for a role like that?"

You smile, the mention of Saltburn immediately bringing back memories. “Honestly, Venetia was one of the most challenging but rewarding roles I’ve ever taken on. Emerald Fennell has such a sharp, specific vision as a director, and she brought so much depth to every single character. Venetia wasn’t just the surface-level socialite that she might appear to be at first glance. She’s deeply entrenched in this world of privilege, but there’s a kind of desperation underneath it all—this need to hold it all together, to maintain this facade of control.”

Drew nods, his expression thoughtful. “I feel like Emerald has this incredible knack for creating characters who feel both larger than life and painfully real. What was it like working with her?” “Incredible,” you answer without hesitation. “Emerald is so collaborative and detail-oriented, but she also gives you the freedom to bring your own interpretation to the role. She’s this powerhouse of creativity, and you always feel like you’re in safe hands with her. She’s also hilarious—like, incredibly funny—so even on the more intense days, there was always this underlying sense of ease on set.”

Drew smiles at that, clearly invested. “And then there’s the cast. I mean, Rosamund Pike, Barry Keoghan, Jacob Elordi—they’re all such giving actors. What was it like working alongside them?” You exhale softly, recalling the dynamic energy of the cast. “It was surreal, honestly. Rosamund Pike is… well, she’s Rosamund Pike. She’s this commanding presence on set, but she’s also so warm and generous as a scene partner. Barry, on the other hand, is just a chameleon. He’s fearless in the way he approaches his craft, and watching him work was like taking a masterclass every day.”

“And Jacob?” Drew asks, his tone light but curious. “He’s been everywhere lately.” “Jacob’s amazing,” you reply with a smile. “He’s so grounded, which is kind of funny considering the larger-than-life characters he’s been playing lately. But on set, he’s just this really laid-back, thoughtful guy. We had a lot of fun with our scenes together—he brings this kind of effortless charisma that makes everything feel natural.”

Drew leans back in his chair, letting out a low whistle. “That’s a stacked team. No pressure at all, right?” You laugh, shaking your head. “Oh, no pressure whatsoever. Just casually working with some of the most talented people in the industry.” “Well, you pulled it off,” Drew says sincerely. “Venetia felt so fully realised—like, even in her silences, there was so much going on beneath the surface. It was fascinating to watch.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, his compliment catching you off guard. There’s an earnestness in his voice that makes your heart skip a beat. “So,” you say, shifting into the next topic, “you’ve played a lot of interesting characters—Rafe Cameron, of course, but also roles like Zach in The Other Zoey and the projects you’ve got coming up. Do you feel like people expect you to stick to certain kinds of roles because of how iconic Rafe has become?”

Drew’s smile fades just a little, his expression turning thoughtful. He seems to appreciate the question, his blue eyes searching yours for a moment before he answers. “Yeah, there’s definitely that expectation sometimes,” he admits. “Rafe is such a big character, and I think when people see you in one role, they assume that’s all you can do. But as actors, we want to stretch ourselves, you know? Surprise people.”

He pauses, his gaze never leaving yours. “It’s kind of like you, actually,” he adds softly. “You’ve done dramas, you’ve done comedies… you’ve proven that you’re not just one thing. I think that’s what makes people really root for you—you're versatile. You don’t let them put you in a box.” The sincerity in his tone catches you off guard, and you can feel heat rise to your cheeks again. You shift slightly in your seat, trying not to let his words completely throw you off balance.

“That’s… really nice of you to say,” you murmur, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I think that’s the beauty of what we do, right? Showing people different sides of ourselves, through the characters we play.” Drew nods, his eyes softening. “Exactly. You just said it better than I could.” You smile, letting the moment hang between you for just a beat longer than it probably should.

You adjust in your seat, leaning forward slightly as you shift the focus of the interview. “Alright, let’s talk about Queer. You play Eugene, and from everything I’ve heard, it’s such an emotionally rich and complex role. What drew you to it, Drew?" You smile as he laughs. “Honestly, it was the script. You know with it being based on William S. Burroughs’ novel, and the way it explored themes of longing, identity, and self-destruction… it was just so raw. Eugene is such a fascinating character because he’s flawed, but you can’t help but empathise with him. It felt like a challenge I couldn’t pass up.”

You nod, smiling softly. “It sounds like it required you to really dig deep emotionally. Was it intimidating stepping into a story like that?” “Completely,” Drew admits with a laugh. “But it was also the kind of role that forces you to grow as an actor. I had to be vulnerable in a way I hadn’t been before, which was scary but also freeing. And having someone like Luca Guadagnino directing—it felt like a safety net, you know? He creates such a safe, collaborative environment.”

“Luca’s brilliant,” you agree, your voice filled with admiration. “And then there’s Daniel Craig. What was your experience working with him? I mean- I remember working with him on Glass Onion and being blow away by how meticulous he is." Drew grins, a flicker of boyish excitement crossing his face. “Oh, he’s incredible. Daniel is one of those actors who’s just so present in every scene. He has this intensity, but he’s also really generous as a scene partner. He listens, reacts—he makes you feel like what you’re doing really matters.”

You smile, nodding your head, "He's also got such a great sense of humour!" Drew laughs, nodding. “Exactly! Like, he can go from delivering this super heavy, emotional scene to cracking a joke that has the entire crew in stitches. It’s such a unique balance, and it keeps the energy on set really light, even during the intense moments.”

“Do you have a favourite memory with him from filming?” you ask, genuinely curious. “There’s this one scene we did that was really emotionally charged—like, full-on tears and everything,” Drew begins, his smile softening. “After we wrapped the take, I was still kind of in that headspace, and Daniel just clapped me on the shoulder and said, ‘Well, that was bloody exhausting, wasn’t it?’ It snapped me out of it, and we both just started laughing. It was one of those moments where you realise, ‘Okay, this is heavy, but it’s also what we love to do.’”

You laugh at the image of Daniel’s bluntness, shaking your head. “That’s so him. He has a way of grounding you, doesn’t he?” “Completely,” Drew agrees. “And honestly, having him on set made me feel like I had to step up my game. He’s such a pro, and you can’t help but want to match that level of commitment.”

You tilt your head, studying him for a moment. “It sounds like Queer really pushed you as an actor, in the best way.” “It did,” Drew says earnestly. “And, you know, hearing you talk about working with Daniel—what was it like for you? I mean, I imagine Glass Onion had a very different vibe, but I’m sure he brought that same energy.”

“Oh, absolutely,” you reply. “Daniel has this way of making everyone feel like they’re part of something special. And with Glass Onion, there was this playful energy because the story is so twisty and fun, but Daniel was always so focused and intentional with every scene.” Drew leans in slightly, clearly fascinated. “Did you ever have one of those moments with him where you just stopped and thought, ‘Wow, I’m working with James Bond’?”

You laugh, nodding. “More than once! It’s impossible not to. But then you get to know him, and he’s just… Daniel. Down-to-earth, funny, and incredibly kind. It makes you forget about the whole ‘James Bond’ thing—at least for a little while.” Drew grins. “That’s good to know. I feel like we’ve both been lucky to work with him, even if I’m still a little starstruck.”

“That’s what Daniel Craig does to you, ladies and gentlemen,” you teased, your laughter light as you pointed at the camera, winking playfully. Drew’s amused chuckle followed, a soft sound that matched the warmth in your tone. The atmosphere of the interview had shifted, the playful banter between the two of you creating an easy camaraderie as the conversation drew to a close.

“Well, I think we’ve discovered we have a lot in common after all,” Drew said, his smile widening as he turned toward you. His eyes glinted with a mix of amusement and genuine appreciation. “This has been a great pairing, truly.”

Your smile softened as you met his gaze, the connection between the two of you almost palpable. “I think so too,” you responded, your voice light and sincere, a soft chuckle escaping you as your gaze lingered on him. “Very great pairing,” you added, your words more than just agreement—there was an unspoken understanding, a mutual respect that hung in the air.

Drew’s smile widened slightly at your reply, the chemistry between the two of you becoming more evident as the final moments of the interview came into focus. Despite the cameras and the public personas, there was something undeniably real in the exchange, something that hinted at more than just a professional connection.

[er1nne]

nobody else sits shotgun besides you, and rafe knows that but...

(do not copy or plagarize, original work)

The sleek black Range Rover sat parked under the soft golden glow of the setting sun, its glossy surface gleaming like liquid ink. The car was pristine, as always—because Rafe Cameron wouldn’t have it any other way. The sharp scent of leather and the faint trace of his cologne lingered as you walked up to the passenger side, the low hum of the engine vibrating softly through the quiet evening air.

You paused for a moment outside the car, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you adjusted your purse. Rafe’s head was tilted down, scrolling through his phone with the same casual confidence he carried everywhere. His other hand rested on the steering wheel, the gold watch on his wrist catching the fading light. He didn’t look up, but even from here, you could feel the magnetic pull of his presence. You smiled to yourself, anticipation bubbling at the thought of spending the afternoon being spoiled—because when Rafe decided you deserved it, he always went all out.

But as you reached for the door handle, something caught your eye. The passenger seat—your seat—was wrong.

It wasn’t just wrong; it was offensive. The seat had been pushed back, too far for someone of your height. It was subtle, but it struck you immediately. You froze, staring at the seat as unease prickled up your spine. Rafe always made sure everything was perfect for you, and this? This was not perfect.

You opened the door slowly, climbing in and surveying the situation like a detective piecing together a crime scene. Your seat, your perfectly adjusted, exactly-the-way-you-like-it seat, was ruined. Someone else had been here. Someone who wasn’t you. You frowned, settling into the seat with a huff as you quickly adjusted it back into place.

“Rafe,” you said, voice tinged with irritation but calm enough to be dangerous.

He glanced up from his phone, his sharp blue eyes flicking to you with a faint smile. “Hey, baby.” His gaze softened as it lingered on you, but then he caught your expression. His brow furrowed slightly. “What’s up? Why do you look like that?”

“Like what?” you shot back, already feeling defensive. You shifted in your seat, crossing your arms and staring out the window as you adjusted the air vent slightly—anything to avoid his gaze.

“Like you’re pissed at me,” he said, his voice tinged with confusion. He tossed his phone into the cup holder, his full attention on you now. “What happened?”

You stayed silent, your lips pursed in a pout as you watched the world pass by outside the window. Normally, Rafe’s presence in the car was all you needed to relax—his hand on your thigh, the low rumble of his voice, the way he effortlessly dominated every space he was in. But tonight, his hand felt absent. Distant.

And he noticed.

“Alright, what’s going on?” Rafe’s tone was firmer now, his hand reaching across the console to rest on your thigh. His thumb brushed gently against your skin, a small, familiar gesture that usually drew you closer to him. But tonight, it didn’t. You stayed quiet, your arms still crossed as you leaned further into the door, your head resting against the cool glass.

Rafe’s frown deepened as the silence stretched between you. He turned back to the road, the engine humming softly as he pulled out into traffic. The Range Rover glided smoothly onto the main street, but his gaze kept flicking to you every few seconds, sharp and assessing. Normally, your presence filled the car with a lightness he loved—your chatter, your laughter, the way you’d steal glances at him when you thought he wasn’t looking. Tonight, though, you felt far away. Closed off.

His hand stayed on your thigh, the warmth of his touch steady, but it didn’t ease the tension buzzing in the air. He drummed his fingers lightly against your skin, a quiet rhythm that matched the faint beat of the music playing through the speakers.

“You’re awfully quiet,” he said after a while, his voice soft but probing. “That’s not like you.”

You didn’t respond, your gaze fixed on the blur of buildings passing outside the window. The streetlights flickered over your face, casting shadows across your features, and Rafe caught the way your lips stayed in that same faint pout. Normally, his hand on your thigh would’ve earned him some kind of reaction—a glance, a soft smile, maybe even that playful laugh of yours that he liked more than he’d ever admit. Tonight, though, you stayed stiff, unmoving, your arms still crossed like you were guarding yourself.

Rafe sighed, his thumb pausing mid-circle. “Baby. Talk to me.”

Still, you didn’t answer. Instead, you shifted slightly, pulling your leg away from his touch just enough for him to notice. The motion was subtle, but it sent a clear message: something was wrong.

“Okay, what the hell is going on?” His voice was sharper now, laced with frustration, though his eyes stayed on the road. His hand returned to the steering wheel, his grip tightening as the car slowed behind a line of traffic. “You’ve been in a mood ever since you got in. What happened?”

You huffed softly, the sound barely audible over the hum of the engine, but it was enough to make him glance at you again. Your jaw was set, your fingers gripping your purse in your lap like it was the only thing keeping you grounded.

Finally, you spoke, your tone clipped. “Why was my seat pushed back?”

His brows shot up in surprise. “What?” He faces you now seeing the totally serious pout on your face.

“My seat, Rafe,” you said, gesturing dramatically to the space around you. “It was pushed back. Too far back. Someone’s been sitting here.”

He stared at you for a moment, like he was trying to figure out if you were serious. When he realized you were, his lips curled into a faint smirk. “You’re mad about the seat?”

“Yes, I’m mad about the seat,” you said, your voice rising slightly as you sat up straighter. “This is my seat. My spot. And someone else sat here. Why would you let that happen?”

Rafe blinked at you, caught somewhere between amusement and disbelief. “Baby, it’s just a seat—”

“It’s not just a seat!” you cut him off, your hands flying up in exasperation. “This is the one place where I get to sit and feel like I belong. And someone else—someone else—ruined it.”

“Sweetheart,” Rafe said slowly, dragging the word out like he was trying to soothe a feral animal. “You’re being a little dramatic.”

“No, I’m not!” you snapped, glaring at him. “You wouldn’t understand. This is sacred ground. You don’t let people mess with sacred ground.”

He laughed then, a short, disbelieving sound that only irritated you more. “You’re actually serious about this?”

“Yes, Rafe, I’m serious,” you said, your voice dripping with indignation. You turned back to the window, your arms crossing again as you sank into your pout. “It’s disrespectful.”

Rafe let out a long, exaggerated sigh, his hand slipping from your thigh to rest on the console. “Unbelievable,” he muttered, shaking his head. “You’re actually mad at me over this?”

“You let someone else sit here,” you said, your voice softer now but no less accusing. “This is my seat, Rafe. I belong here. Nobody else.”

For a moment, the car was silent except for the low hum of the engine. Then, Rafe reached over, his fingers gently tilting your chin until you were forced to meet his gaze. His blue eyes were sharp, but there was a flicker of something softer beneath the surface—something like amusement mixed with fondness.

“You’re impossible,” he said, his voice low and steady. “But fine. Nobody else gets the seat. Happy now?”

You hesitated, your pout faltering as you searched his face. “You promise?”

He smirked, leaning in closer until his lips brushed against yours in a brief, teasing kiss. “I promise.”

You huffed, your irritation melting under the weight of his touch. “Good. Because this is my seat. Don’t forget it.”

“I won’t,” he said, his smirk widening as he leaned back in his seat. His hand found its way back to your thigh, his thumb resuming its slow, hypnotic circles. “Now, can we go? Or are you gonna keep holding me hostage over a seat?”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Fine. But don’t think I’m letting this go.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Rafe said, his voice laced with amusement as he shifted the car into gear.

“Actually,” you said, your voice cutting through the quiet hum of the engine. He glanced over at you, his brows raising slightly in curiosity. “I want my name stitched into the seat.”

Rafe blinked, his lips parting as if he hadn’t heard you correctly. “What?”

“You heard me,” you said, crossing your arms again as you turned to face him fully. “I want my name stitched into the seat. That way, everyone knows this spot is mine.”

For a second, he just stared at you, his sharp blue eyes searching your face like he was waiting for the punchline. When it didn’t come, he let out a low laugh, shaking his head. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely,” you said, your tone leaving no room for argument. “You promised, Rafe. This is my seat. I don’t want there to be any confusion in the future.”

He tilted his head, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “You’re insane, you know that?”

“And yet, here we are,” you shot back, the faintest hint of a smile creeping onto your face. “Now, are you going to do it or not?”

Rafe sighed dramatically, his free hand running through his hair as he muttered something under his breath about how you were going to be the death of him. But the amused glint in his eye betrayed him, and you knew you’d already won.

A few days later

When you climbed into the Range Rover for another one of Rafe’s spontaneous outings, you paused, your eyes catching on the passenger seat. There it was, stitched into the leather in elegant, looping script: Your Name.

You turned to look at him, your lips parting in surprise. He just leaned back in the driver’s seat, his smirk as smug as ever. “Told you I’d take care of it.”

For once, you didn’t have a snarky comment. Instead, you leaned over, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You’re the best,” you murmured, your voice soft with genuine affection.

“Don’t forget it,” he said, his hand already finding its way back to your thigh as he started the car.

[goldsainz]

# DREW STARKEY — ACTORS ON ACTORS !

MASTERLIST !

001. SUMMARY !

✯ drew and you participate in variety’s “actors on actors” series.

002. WARNINGS !

✯ cursing, talking about nude scenes, probably inaccurate acting experiences.

003. NOTE !

✯ sorry to all the actors i stole roles from😭 also zendaya is used as a face claim for the social media but the writing is inclusive and has no descriptors of physical appearance… or at least i hope so.

word count : 5,4k (chat i got carried away)

The cozy studio was bathed in warm light, designed almost as if to feel like a welcoming living room. Two plush chairs faced each other, separated by a low coffee table adorned with a few carefully placed books and a small vase of fresh flowers. Everything about the space was crafted to exude intimacy and warmth, inviting open conversation.

Drew Starkey entered the room first, his usual calm confidence mingled with a tinge of nervous energy. He smoothed his shirt absentmindedly and scanned the setup, trying to ground himself in the moment. He was used to being in front of cameras, but this felt different. This wasn’t just about promoting a project or answering rapid-fire questions on a press junket. This was you.

“Hello,” Drew started, a smile gracing his features as he took in the fact that he was sitting right in front of his number one celebrity crush. His hand hovered awkwardly in a small wave, as if he couldn’t believe this was real.

“Hi,” you said back, a giggle falling past your lips when you noticed his sheepish look. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” he said, his voice just a little higher than usual. Drew cleared his throat, laughing at himself, which made you laugh too. “Sorry, I’m… a little nervous.”

“Oh, don’t be,” you reassured him with a warm smile. “I promise, I don’t bite.”

“Good to know.” He chuckled, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “How are you doing?”

“I’m great, thank you. What about you?”

“Pretty good, can’t complain.” A laugh bubbled out of him, and subsequently, you. The way he rubbed the back of his neck made you think he was still pinching himself that this was happening.

The cameras rolled, capturing the easy charm and immediate chemistry between the two of you. 

Drew’s grin widened as he began. “First of all, let me just say—I’m completely starstruck right now. I mean, the way you completely own every role you take on... it’s incredible.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, a bashful laugh escaping as you waved off the compliment. “Oh, stop it. You’re making me blush!”

“I’m serious,” he pressed, leaning forward slightly. “You’re like… the blueprint. If I ever get even halfway to where you are, I’ll consider myself lucky.”

“Well, now you’re just flattering me,” you said, your voice teasing but your cheeks undeniably warm. “But thank you, that’s so sweet. And honestly, you’re being way too hard on yourself. You’re incredible in Queer. You’ve got this natural charm that just lights up the screen.”

“Natural charm, huh?” He smirked, pretending to preen, which made you laugh again. “I’ll take that.”

“Good,” you replied, smiling. “You should, because it’s true.”

Drew’s gaze softened, the teasing giving way to something more earnest. “That means a lot, really. Especially coming from you. You’re like… Hollywood royalty to many.”

You tilted your head, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “To many, huh? And are you part of this many?”

Drew’s eyes widened, and he laughed, a little caught off guard. “Oh, absolutely. I’ve got a lifetime membership to the fan club.”

“Good to know,” you teased, crossing your legs and leaning back in your chair with an air of mock superiority. “I’ll have to start charging you membership fees.”

“Totally worth it,” he shot back, his grin widening.

“Well, thank you,” you said with a soft laugh, “So, we’ve both got some things in common, which I think is pretty cool.”

“Like working with Daniel Craig?” he asked.

“Yes! Honestly, I still reminisce about our time on set… he’s genuinely incredible, isn’t he?”

“He is, yeah. I found myself just admiring him and sort of forgetting I had to act too. He’s just… he’s on another level, for sure.”

“Daniel’s a master of his craft… Most of my scenes as Paloma in No Time To Die were with him, and at first I was so nervous because, like, what if I messed up in front of the Daniel Craig?” Drew let out a laugh at your words, and you couldn’t help but laugh too. “But when he noticed I was nervous he reassured me that it was all good. He’s just the best.”

“You’ve worked with so many high-profile actors.” You nod slightly at his words, as if it were the most common thing in the world. “Are you always nervous when meeting them, or was it just a Daniel thing?”

“It wasn’t just Daniel, no, but I think it depends. For example, when I did Oppenheimer with Cillian Murphy, for some reason I felt more relaxed… even though I had some nude scenes with him.”

“Nude scenes just make you connect, don’t they?” he joked, leaning back with a sly grin.

“They do, actually,” you replied, leaning into the banter. “You’d think they’d be worse, but honestly, with the amount of seriousness and concentration they take, it’s like you don’t have time to be nervous.”

“You clearly pulled it off flawlessly,” Drew said with mock solemnity. 

“You did too in Queer.” You compliment him, “I watched it a few days ago, and the chemistry you had with Daniel was just off the charts.”

Drew’s face lit up, a mix of pride and bashfulness crossing his features. “Daniel’s an amazing scene partner. He really made it easy for me to tap into everything.”

“Well, it shows,” you said. “It was such a raw and beautiful performance. I might’ve shed a tear or two.”

“Okay, now you’re just trying to make me blush,” Drew teased, pointing at you with a playful squint. “But seriously, that means a lot coming from you.”

“Hey, give credit where it’s due,” you shot back with a grin. “You’ve got this way of making everything feel so real. Like when you’re in pain, we’re in pain. When you’re in love, we’re falling right alongside you.”

“Wow,” he said, shaking his head as if to clear it. “I don’t know what to do with all these compliments. This is the best therapy session I’ve ever had.”

You laughed, crossing your legs and leaning forward slightly. “Well, I’m glad I could help. But now I’m curious—how did you prepare for a role like that? I mean, it’s so emotionally intense, no?.”

“It was a lot of journaling, a lot of talking with Luca about backstory and motivations,” Drew explained, his tone more thoughtful. “And honestly, I kind of drew from real-life experiences. Not the exact ones, obviously, but just feelings of vulnerability and… wanting to be understood.”

“That’s beautiful,” you said softly, your smile turning tender. “It’s amazing how much of ourselves we pour into these characters.”

“Exactly,” Drew agreed. “And sometimes it’s terrifying, but when it resonates with people, it feels worth it.”

“It definitely resonated with me,” you assured him. “And I’m sure with countless others too.”

“That’s really nice to hear,” he said with a soft smile.

“How was it for you to work with Luca? Because I remember it being one of the highlights of my career.”

Drew’s eyes lit up at the mention of Luca Guadagnino, and he leaned forward slightly, as if the memory itself was a magnet pulling him closer. “Oh, working with Luca was… incredible,” he said, his voice laced with awe. “He’s got this way of creating such a safe, open space on set. It’s almost like he’s not just directing—he’s inviting you into this world he’s building in his head.”

You nodded eagerly, your own memories of working with Luca bringing a nostalgic smile to your face. “I know exactly what you mean. He makes it feel like you’re collaborating on this deeply personal piece of art, rather than just executing someone else’s vision.”

“Exactly!” Drew said, gesturing animatedly. “And he has this way of pulling things out of you that you didn’t even know you had. Like, he’ll ask you one simple question, and suddenly you’re diving into this emotional rabbit hole.”

You laughed, tilting your head in agreement. “He asked me once, ‘What would this character, Maren in my case, dream about?’ and it completely changed how I approached the next scene.”

Drew’s mouth dropped open in mock surprise. “He asked me the exact same question!”

“No way!” you exclaimed, your laughter spilling out in disbelief. “I love that! It’s honestly such a deceptively simple question, but it opens up so many layers.”

“It really does,” Drew said, chuckling. “And then you’re sitting there like, ‘Okay, now I have to rethink everything I thought I knew about this character.’”

“It’s kind of genius, though,” you added. “He makes you work harder, but not in a way that feels forced. It’s like… he trusts you to figure it out, but he gives you these breadcrumbs to follow.”

“Exactly,” Drew said again, his tone growing softer. “I think that’s why his films feel so intimate, he gets the human part so right.”

You smiled, letting his words settle in the air for a moment. “I think that’s what makes working with him feel like such a privilege. It’s not just about telling a story—it’s about feeling it.”

Drew nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “And those are the moments that stick with you, you know? The ones where you felt something real, even if it was just for a moment.”

“Completely,” you agreed, your voice soft with sincerity. “Those moments are why we do this.”

For a moment, the two of you sat in companionable silence, the weight of the conversation settling in the cozy studio. Then, Drew broke the quiet with a grin. “Okay, but did Luca make you do those impromptu rehearsals at, like, the crack of dawn?”

“Oh my God, yes!” you burst out, your eyes widening. “I’d just roll out of bed with zero coffee and somehow be expected to pour my soul into a scene.”

Drew laughed, his face lighting up. “Right? It’s like, ‘Good morning, here’s your emotional breakdown for the day.’”

You laughed along with him, the shared experience adding another thread to the easy camaraderie forming between you. “But honestly, I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.”

“Same,” Drew said, his expression softening again. “For Luca? Anytime.”

“Absolutely,” you agreed, your eyes locking with his for a moment before the warmth of the studio light reminded you both that the cameras were still rolling.

Drew shifted in his seat slightly, his expression thoughtful. “You know, it’s kind of wild—hearing you talk about all these incredible experiences. You’ve been doing this for so long, and yet it’s like you’re just getting started.”

You tilted your head with a small smile. “That’s sweet of you to say. But yeah, I guess I have been in this industry for most of my life. It’s all I’ve ever really known.”

Drew’s eyebrows lifted. “That’s crazy to think about. I didn’t even consider acting until after college. You must’ve been, what, ten? Eleven?”

“Eight, actually,” you corrected with a chuckle. “My first role was in this little indie film. I was basically just the kid who ran around in the background eating ice cream, but I thought it was the coolest thing ever.”

He laughed, clearly amused. “That’s adorable. And now you’re the Hollywood It Girl. No big deal.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, your laughter light. “Oh, stop it. But yeah, it’s been a journey. Growing up on sets definitely shaped me, for better or worse. Sometimes I wonder what it would’ve been like to have a more ‘normal’ childhood.”

Drew’s smile softened. “That must’ve been such a whirlwind. I can’t even imagine starting that young. I didn’t even think about acting seriously until high school.”

“Oh, I’ve read about that!” You said, your voice lighting up. “You were all about sports growing up, right?”

“Yeah,” Drew admitted with a chuckle. “I was your typical small-town kid—baseball, basketball, you name it. I was convinced I was going to go pro in something, but clearly, that didn’t pan out.”

“Well, I think acting suits you pretty well.” 

“Thank you,” he says with a soft laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “But yeah, the real shift happened in high school when I joined a drama class. It was all Samuel Beckett and absurdist plays, which at the time I thought was the coolest thing ever.”

You leaned forward, intrigued. “So that’s what pulled you in? Drama class?”

“Pretty much,” he said with a nod. “And then I went to Western Carolina for college. I double-majored in English and theater, thinking, ‘If this acting thing doesn’t work out, I’ll at least have a backup plan.’”

“That’s so realistic of you,” you said with a laugh. “Meanwhile, I was ten, telling anyone who’d listen that I was going to win an Oscar one day.”

“And look at you now,” Drew said, gesturing to you with an almost reverent smile. “You made it happen.”

You chuckled, a bit flustered by his admiration. “Well, not quite, just an Oscar nominee for now. But thank you. You know, I think your journey’s pretty incredible too. A double major? That’s no joke. And starting later in the game like you did… it must have felt like a slow burn, but it’s clearly paid off.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Drew said thoughtfully. “It was definitely a slower burn for me. I didn’t land my first real gig until I’d been auditioning for what felt like forever.”

“I think that makes your journey even more special,” you said, your tone sincere. “You came into it with all this life experience and maturity. It shows in your work, you know? There’s this depth to your performances that’s just… rare.”

Drew’s ears turned a little pink, and he laughed softly, glancing down at his hands. “Wow, you’re gonna make me blush over here.”

“Good,” you said with a teasing smile. “It’s only fair after all the compliments you’ve been throwing my way.”

He looked up, his grin sheepish but warm. “Touché. But seriously, hearing that from someone like you—someone who’s been at this for so long and is so insanely talented—it means a lot.”

“Well,” you replied with a playful tilt of your head, “I think it’s safe to say we’re officially mutual fans.”

Drew laughed at that, the sound easy and genuine. “I can live with that.”

The conversation shifted into more comfortable territory as the two of you shared experiences, trading stories about acting and the film industry. Drew, now feeling at ease, leaned forward with renewed interest.

“You know,” he began, a thoughtful expression crossing his face, “I've been thinking about how different TV shows and movies are, especially when it comes to the pacing and character development. Like, in a show, we have to maintain this ongoing energy for the characters over multiple seasons. But with movies, it’s a totally different vibe, right?”

You nodded, understanding immediately where he was going. “It’s definitely a huge shift. With TV, you’re given time to build on a character slowly. Every episode is another chapter, so you can explore new facets of them and keep the audience hooked for longer periods of time. But movies, they’re this intense sprint. You have to get everything across in just two hours or so, but in a way that feels just as layered and satisfying.”

Drew's eyes lit up with excitement, clearly passionate about the topic. "Exactly! You have to balance the action and suspense while still giving the characters these moments of vulnerability. Over multiple seasons, you can really let them grow and change. It's like a slow burn. But when you're doing a movie, you don’t have the luxury of that buildup. It has to be this concentrated emotional punch right from the start.”

“That’s one of the biggest challenges of film, for sure," you agreed. "In a film, every second counts. You can’t afford to waste a moment. But I think what’s also interesting is how both mediums can explore a character’s journey from different angles. TV shows can dive into their backstory in more detail, but movies... they really need to hit those emotional beats and leave an impact without dragging it out."

Drew smiled, clearly engaged in the discussion. “In TV shows you need that perfect balance of suspense, character development, and personal growth. And then, at the end of the season, you drop a huge bombshell that leaves people wanting more.”

You laughed, raising an eyebrow playfully. “Sounds like you’ve been doing some serious thinking about it. What’s the secret to keeping the audience hooked without losing the depth of your character?”

He leaned back, his expression thoughtful. “Well, I think it’s about letting the characters evolve with the story. You need to make sure the audience sees the human side of your character, even when they're in these crazy situations. It’s what keeps people invested in the long run.”

“You’ve really got the process figured out,” you said with a smile. “But you’re right—it’s a different rhythm for TV. With a movie, you get to go deep quickly, but with a show, you have to keep it dynamic and varied. And let’s not forget, you need that cliffhanger at the end to make people binge-watch the next season.”

Drew’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “You’re giving away all the secrets! Next thing you know, people will be expecting a cliffhanger every time they watch a movie."

“Well, movies and TV are both art, but they demand different approaches,” you said, “and you’re doing an amazing job balancing both. I’m honestly so excited to see where your career goes next. Both worlds are lucky to have you.”

He chuckled softly, clearly humbled. “Thanks. I think I’m just lucky to be a part of both. I mean, who wouldn’t want to be in a show that gets people talking for days?”

“Right? You’ve got Outer Banks, which has such a dedicated fanbase, and then movies like Queer that touch people in such a different way. It’s amazing to watch your versatility.”

He leaned in slightly, a playful glint in his eyes. “I’m just trying to keep up with you. Honestly, your transition from action to more emotional roles is inspiring. I hope I can pull off something even close to what you’ve done with your career.”

Your smile softened, your voice sincere. “Well, you’re already doing it, Drew. You’re already there. It’s not just about the roles—it’s about the heart you put into them. And you’ve definitely got that.”

Drew’s smile faltered for a moment, the weight of your words sinking in. His gaze softened, as if he were truly reflecting on what you’d said. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms but keeping his eyes on you, his expression thoughtful.

“It's crazy, isn't it?” He began, his voice a little quieter now, “The idea of giving so much of yourself to something that feels so... intimate. But when it works, when the audience feels it too, there's nothing like it.”

“Exactly,” you agreed, your voice a little quieter now. “That's the real magic, when the audience feels like they know the characters, like they're right there with them. It’s not about the plot twists or the fancy sets—it’s about the emotions that we build and share with them.”

Drew nodded thoughtfully, his gaze drifting away for a moment before returning to you. “Speaking of emotions, I just saw your new movie, We Live In Time,” he said, his voice taking on a softer tone. “It’s one of those films that stays with you, you know? It’s raw in a way that makes you uncomfortable, but it’s also beautiful. How did you tap into that for Almut?”

Your expression softened as you thought back on the experience. We Live In Time had been a journey—a raw, almost therapeutic one. “It was an emotional rollercoaster, honestly,” you said, leaning back slightly, letting the memory settle in. “I think the hardest part was showing that moment where her whole world shifts. It was such a raw, profound type of emotion I had to channel in order to do justice to the character and her experiences.”

Drew sat back, letting the weight of the conversation settle. “I think that's what makes your career so incredible. You never just play a character. You become them. And you take us with you. Every heartbreak, every triumph, every moment of doubt... we feel it all with you. That's what makes your work so powerful.”

You met his gaze, feeling the depth of the conversation linger between you both. “It’s all about connection, right? Connecting with the character, with the audience, and with the emotions that we all share as humans. Because at the end of the day, we’re all just trying to make sense of time, love, and the moments we get.”

Drew smiled, his expression genuine and soft. “Well, you’ve definitely made sense of it for me. We Live In Time—it’s not just a movie. It’s a reminder to cherish what we have. And that, in itself, is something special.”

You smiled back, your heart full as you let the words sink in. “Thank you, Drew. That’s really sweet of you.”

You both shared a comfortable silence for a moment, before Drew broke it with a playful grin. “You know, it’s clear you’ve mastered the art of vulnerability on screen, but I can’t help but wonder—did you ever have moments on set where it was just... impossible to take things seriously?”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Oh, absolutely. In fact, as a kid, it was all impossible to be serious,” you admitted, shaking your head at the memory. “I remember this one time during a scene on set when I was probably around 9 or 10. We were supposed to be doing this emotional scene, and I had to cry on cue. But instead of crying, I couldn’t stop giggling. It was a dramatic moment, and my co-star was all serious and trying to get through the scene, but I just... lost it.”

Drew raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Giggling during a dramatic scene? What happened?”

“Well, my director, bless her heart, kept trying to give me these 'serious actor' looks. She was this no-nonsense kind of woman, and she had this way of narrowing her eyes when things weren’t going well. I tried my best to hold it together, but then my co-star—who was way too good at being serious—looked at me and just gave this super intense stare, and that was it. I burst out laughing right in the middle of the take.”

Drew chuckled, shaking his head. “I can just picture that. You were probably trying to hold it together, but it must have been so hard with all that tension in the air.”

“I swear, the more I tried not to laugh, the harder it became,” you continued, grinning at the memory. “It was one of those moments where you’re like, 'Why am I even here? I can’t do this.' But somehow, I got through it. The director had to take a deep breath, and we did a few more takes. Eventually, we got it done, but I think we all were on the verge of cracking up the whole time.”

Drew let out a laugh, clearly imagining the scene. “I can’t blame you. I feel like as a kid, you have no filter. Everything feels like a joke, and it’s so hard to be serious when everyone else is trying so hard.”

“You have no idea,” you said, your voice still light. “There were so many times I’d be doing a serious scene, and I’d start thinking about something random, like a certain meme or a funny sound someone made on set—and then, bam, it was game over. I’d be holding in a laugh like my life depended on it.”

Drew smirked, leaning in a little. “I totally feel that. I mean, as an adult, I still have moments where I struggle to keep a straight face. I once had a scene where I was supposed to be super intense, but the prop guy was standing just out of frame, and he made this ridiculous face at me—completely threw me off. I couldn’t stop laughing, and it ended up taking hours to finish the scene because we kept cracking up. Honestly, I think the crew started to get annoyed with us after a while.”

“See?” you said with a grin. “It never really changes. Truthfully, the older you get, the harder it becomes to hold it in. But then you look at the footage and realize how much fun you actually had, and that makes it all worth it.”

Drew nodded thoughtfully, a playful twinkle in his eyes. “Yeah, that’s the thing. Sometimes it’s the moments you didn’t plan for that end up being the most memorable. Like when you have a laugh on set, and suddenly you feel closer to everyone, even though you’re supposed to be in character.”

“Exactly,” you said, your smile widening. “There’s something so beautiful about those unscripted moments. It reminds you that acting is, at its core, about connecting—whether that’s through laughter or the heavy stuff. And even though I had my fair share of giggling fits as a kid, I think those moments taught me just as much as the serious ones. Maybe more.”

Drew leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “It's funny how those little moments—like a laugh in the middle of a serious scene—can end up being the ones you remember the most. I think those are the ones that make the work feel real, you know?”

You smiled, your gaze distant as you reflected on the years of working on sets. “I know exactly what you mean.”

“Yeah, like those unscripted moments,” Drew added, his voice quieter now, as if the weight of the sentiment lingered in the air. “They give the performance an authenticity that you can’t get from just following the script to a tee.”

You nodded, the words hanging between you like a shared understanding. “Exactly. And as a kid, I was so focused on getting it ‘right’—on being perfect—that I missed the beauty of just being in the moment. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized how important it is to let go of the idea of perfection. It's in those mistakes, the wrong takes, the bloopers—that's where you find the truth.”

Drew's expression softened, his eyes meeting yours with a sincerity that made your chest tighten. “I think it’s key not to be afraid to show the mess, the imperfect parts of a character, because that’s what makes them human.”

A small chuckle escaped you, the warmth of the moment filling the studio. “Right? We’re all just a little bit of a mess, trying to figure it out, but that’s what makes the journey worth it. We’re constantly learning, constantly evolving, and we bring that to our work. The growth, the mistakes—it all shapes us.”

Drew nodded, his gaze shifting as if reflecting on those same ideas. “Yeah, and the growth never stops, does it? Just when you think you’ve figured it out, something new happens, and it challenges you again.”

“That's the beauty of it,” you said, your voice quieter now, the bond between you both deepening. “The challenge is what keeps it exciting, keeps you moving forward.”

Drew grinned, a playful spark lighting his eyes once more. “Well, I guess we’re both lifelong students of this thing called acting, huh?”

“Absolutely,” you said with a laugh, the lightness returning. “And just like any good student, we’ll always be learning. Who knows, maybe we'll even get better at not laughing in the middle of dramatic scenes.”

Drew let out a hearty laugh, nodding enthusiastically. “I think that’s going to take years of practice, honestly.”

You both shared a moment of genuine laughter, the warmth of your conversation filling the space around you. You leaned back into the chairs, the laughter still lingering in the air, a sense of camaraderie that made the space between you feel comfortable and open. You continued sharing stories, moving seamlessly from one experience to the next.

The conversation began to slow, the easy flow of stories fading into a comfortable silence, as you both shared an unspoken understanding. The light laughter that had filled the room now felt like a warm, lingering hum between you.

Drew shifted slightly in his chair, his gaze turning toward you with a subtle, thoughtful expression. “You know,” he began, his voice softer now, “I really hope we get to work together sometime. I think it’d be incredible. It’s the kind of thing where I can already imagine what it’d be like. Just... easy, real. Like this.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but you kept your composure, offering a smile that spoke volumes. “I’d love that. If you receive a call from your manager these days… maybe I had something to do with it, so be prepared.”

The air between you both was charged, the quiet intensity of the moment not lost on either of you. There was something unspoken, something deeper that neither of you addressed outright but that seemed to hang there all the same. The connection was undeniable, yet it lingered in the silence, unspoken, but clear.

Drew finally broke the spell with a playful grin, his eyes flicking back to yours. “Oh, I’ll be ready. Can’t wait to see what magic we create together.”

You returned his smile, your heart racing ever so slightly, though you kept it hidden behind the ease of your words. “I’m sure it’ll be something incredible.”

As the interview wrapped up, there was a lingering sense of something unspoken between you both, an attraction that neither of you had to mention but was so clearly felt. The kind of connection that could only be hinted at, but would never truly fade. It was the kind of moment that would stay with both of you long after the cameras stopped rolling.

“Thank you,” you said softly as the final moments of the interview started to loom, your voice carrying a depth that reflected everything unsaid between you. “This has been amazing. Honestly, it feels like we’ve been talking for hours, and yet it still doesn’t feel like enough.”

He nodded, his expression soft but genuine. “I feel the same way. This has been one of the most honest and open conversations I’ve had in a long time.”

The crew began to pack up, signaling that the interview was at its end, but neither of you seemed in any hurry to break the moment. The usual chatter and movement around you felt distant, as if the two of you were in your own world for just a little longer.

“You know,” Drew said, his voice quieter now, a hint of sincerity threading through, “I think we make a pretty good team even just sitting here talking. Imagine what we could do with a whole script.”

Your smile softened, and you nodded, the words feeling right, but the undertone of something more—something unsaid—hung in the air. “Yeah, I think we’d be unstoppable.”

The moment stretched between you both, filled with the kind of comfortable tension that comes when you realize you’ve shared something real. Something that felt like it could turn into something more.

You both stood up, a final, lingering moment before the usual goodbye. Drew extended a hand, his gaze holding yours a beat longer than necessary.

“Take care, okay?” he said, his voice warm, like the words carried more than just a polite farewell.

You shook his hand, the warmth of his touch lingering just a moment longer than expected. “You too, Drew,” you replied, your voice soft yet carrying an undercurrent of meaning that mirrored his own.

As you turned to gather your things, you couldn’t help but glance back over your shoulder. He was still standing there, watching you with that same thoughtful expression, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. The faintest smile curved his lips, as if he were replaying the conversation in his mind.

“See you around,” he called out, the words simple but loaded with promise.

“Yeah,” you said, meeting his gaze one last time. “See you around.”

Walking away, you felt a peculiar lightness, as though something intangible had shifted, leaving you both exhilarated and curious. It wasn’t every day you met someone who made you feel seen in such a profound way, and as you left the studio, you found yourself smiling, a quiet hope blooming in your chest.

And for a fleeting second, you allowed yourself to wonder what could come next.

[lizziesangel]

thinking of reader wearing her glasses around rafe for the first time

SUMMARY: based on this request

WORD COUNT: 672

GENRE: fluff

it was the perfect kind of evening—warm, cozy, and full of comfort. rafe’s bedroom was dimly lit, the only light coming from the tv as it flickered with previews for the movie you were about to watch. you snuggled up on the couch, a blanket draped over both of you, the scent of freshly popped popcorn filling the air. it was the kind of night you had been looking forward to all week.

you were sitting cross-legged on his soft bed, nervously clutching a bowl of popcorn as the opening credits of the movie start rolling. your heart flutters when rafe plops down next to you, his broad shoulders brushing against yours. it’s been about a month since you started dating, and although he’s been nothing but sweet to you, there’s still a shy part of you that’s worried about how he sees you—especially tonight.

your vision had been getting worse lately, and the need for glasses had become more pressing. you were determined not to let it ruin the night, but as the movie started, your eyes began to strain. you only really needed them for things like driving or watching tv, but the idea of wearing them in front of Rafe made you self-conscious. what if they made you look… goofy?

rafe noticed immediately. he always did. "you good, princess?" he asked, his voice laced with concern, glancing over at you from the corner of his eye.

“yeah,” you reply quickly, but he doesn’t seem convinced. you didn’t want to admit that your eyes weren’t as sharp as they used to be. but the discomfort was becoming too much.

during the beginning of the movie, the words on the screen are a blur, and you know there’s no getting around it. slowly, you reach into your bag, pulling out the slim case that holds your glasses. you hesitate, stealing a glance at rafe, who’s too focused on the screen to notice.

you didn’t want rafe to think you were less than perfect.

with a quiet breath, you slip the glasses on.

“okay, better,” you mutter under your breath, settling back into the couch.

but suddenly, the room feels quieter. you turn to find rafe staring at you, the movie forgotten. his blue eyes are wide, and his lips part as if he’s about to say something, but nothing comes out.

your stomach flips. “what?” you ask, adjusting the glasses nervously.

he blinks, then runs a hand through his hair, a crooked grin spreading across his face. “nothing, i just… damn.”

“damn?” you repeat, your voice unsure.

“you look so cute,” he says, the words tumbling out as if he can’t help himself. he leans in closer, his gaze flickering over your face. “like, really, really cute. the glasses suit you.”

your cheeks heat up instantly. “stop,” you mumble, covering your face with your hands.

he gently pulls your hands away, holding them in his own. “i’m serious, though. i’m mad you didn’t tell me you’d look this adorable. it’s not fair.”

you roll your eyes, but a laugh escapes you, the tension melting away. “you’re ridiculous.”

“ridiculously into you,” he counters without missing a beat. then he leans back, his arm wrapping around your shoulders to pull you closer. “now, come on, we’ve got a movie to watch. but don’t blame me if i can’t concentrate.”

“you look,” he repeated, his voice now softer, almost in awe, “so freaking cute."

your face flushed deeper. “rafe, stop,” you muttered, trying to hide behind your hands.`

he shook his head in disbelief, staring at you as if you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. “i swear,” he chuckled, “you’re like a total vision in those.” he scooted closer, giving you a playful nudge.

“i didn’t think you could get any cuter. but here we are.”

and just like that, the movie plays on—but all you can think about is the way he keeps sneaking glances at you, the soft smile on his face proving just how smitten he really is.

MASTERLIST

[coryndoll]

content: rafe cameron x reader, fluff, angst, heavy inspo if not me shamefully imitating stefan & elenas scenes i fear LMFAO, secret relationship, past & future, time skip

authors note: guys omg my finals week is over n i get a month n a half break BLESS. but i still dont know if ill be totally active like i used to be. ill update u guys if that ever changes !!

main masterlist

your relationship with rafe had always been easy, natural in a way that almost felt inevitable. you’d known each other for years, if not all your life, your families orbiting each other like planets in the same solar system.

your parents met his dad in college, you think. all you knew was that every holiday, every long weekend, every summer, the camerons were there. sarah and wheezie were like sisters to you, and rafe . . . well, rafe had always been different.

you’d grown up side by side, bickering and teasing like it was second nature, but somewhere along the way, the dynamic shifted. you weren’t sure when it happened, only that it felt right. a few months ago, he kissed you for the first time, and it was like something clicked into place. since then, everything had been smooth sailing—well, as smooth as things could be when you were secretly dating your best friend.

you’d both decided to keep it quiet, at least for now. your families were too close, too intertwined, and the thought of all the questions, the teasing, the pressure . . . it was easier this way. for now, it was just yours, something special you didn’t have to share.

tonight was no different from the dozens of christmases before. your parents were hosting, the camerons were invited, and everything was perfectly predictable. your dad was in the dining room with ward and rose, sharing some expensive whiskey that probably had a story behind it. sarah was in the kitchen helping your mom, wheezie trailing behind her like a shadow. you and rafe were in the living room, curled up on the couch by the fire, a blanket draped over your lap.

your head rested on his shoulder, the soft glow of the fireplace making the whole scene feel oddly intimate. rafe’s hand was hidden under the blanket, his fingers lightly resting on your thigh. it wasn’t obvious—he wasn’t obvious—but it was enough to make your heart race. you pulled the blanket tighter around you, leaning into him as the sound of the tv filled the room.

“sarah asked me about you,” rafe said suddenly, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

you lifted your head, intrigued, your fingers idly playing with his under the blanket. “oh yeah?” you murmured, a faint smile tugging at your lips.

“yeah.” he glanced down at your intertwined hands, then back at you. “she asked if we were together.”

you snorted softly, amused. “and what’d you say?”

“what do you think i said?” he asked, raising a brow.

you just shook your head, letting the silence hang for a moment. then, rafe gave you a look, one that made your stomach flip in a way you’d never admit. “we should start a fight,” he said, completely deadpan.

you blinked at him, pulling your head back to study his face. “what?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

he shrugged, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “might throw sarah off our scent.”

“you’re so stupid,” you muttered, shaking your head, but there was no bite to it.

“i’m serious,” he said, leaning back against the couch. “we get into some dumb argument, everyone’s gonna think we’re just . . . you know, being us.”

“but it’s christmas,” you said. “we’re supposed to be in the christmas spirit, not the . . . i don’t know. hateful one.”

“fine, fine. not hateful,” he conceded, tilting his head slightly. “okay, what about this—” you watched him, waiting, your fingers still tangled with his. “—when i say, ‘you always have to get the last word, don’t you?’ what i’ll really mean is, i love you.”

you stared at him, a smile creeping onto your face despite yourself. he was so stupid. so him.

“okay,” you said slowly, your voice soft. “then when i say, ‘only because you never know when to stop talking,’ that’ll mean i love you back.”

rafe squinted at you, his lips twitching into a smirk. “oh, i don’t know when to stop talking?”

you nodded, a playful glint in your eyes. “yeah.”

“yeah?” he echoed, leaning in closer.

“yeah,” you murmured, your voice barely audible now.

before you could say anything else, his lips were on yours, soft but firm, shutting you up in the most effective way possible. it was quick, but it was enough to leave you breathless, your heart pounding as he pulled back, a smug smile on his face.

now the dining room buzzed with the usual holiday energy—silverware clinking against plates, the hum of casual conversation, and the faint scent of rosemary and cinnamon wafting in from the kitchen.

your dad was deep in conversation with ward, their low voices occasionally punctuated by laughter as they sipped their whiskey. rose stood nearby, her forced-polite smile unwavering as she chimed in here and there, while wheezie flitted around, setting plates at each spot on the long, polished table.

you lingered near the head of the table, your fingers brushing the back of one of the chairs as you debated where to sit. rafe stood just a step behind you, his presence unmistakable even without looking.

sarah appeared in the doorway, carefully balancing a steaming casserole dish in her hands, her gaze scanning the room before landing on the table. rafe must have noticed her at the same time because, without warning, his shoulder bumped into yours—not hard, but enough to make you stumble a step forward.

“move,” he muttered, his tone sharp enough to catch your attention.

you blinked, caught off guard, before turning to him with a raised brow. there was amusement in his eyes this time, but his expression remained serious. you knew exactly what he was doing.

“excuse me?” you shot back, your voice dripping with mock irritation as you planted your feet firmly where you stood.

“you’re in my way,” he said, gesturing toward the chair you were closest to as if you were blocking his path.

“i’m in your way?” you retorted, crossing your arms over your chest. “you’re the one taking up half the room with your oversized ego.”

his lips twitched, but he kept his composure. “and you’re taking up the other half with your big mouth.”

he did not.

you stared at him, fighting every urge to laugh. your lips twitched as you bit down on the inside of your cheek, trying to keep it together.

for a second, you thought he might crack. his lips pressed together, his shoulders stiffened, but he stayed in character, his determination to fool sarah unshakable.

meanwhile, the room carried on as if nothing was happening. your parents barely spared you a glance, too engrossed in their conversations. it was clear they were used to your bickering—it was just background noise to them at this point.

but sarah wasn’t as quick to dismiss it. she paused mid-step, her eyes flicking between the two of you as she set the dish down on the table. her brows furrowed slightly, and you could feel her studying you, trying to piece something together.

you didn’t miss a beat. “you always have to make everything about you, don’t you?” you said, stepping aside just enough to let him pass but not without bumping his arm in the process.

rafe moved into the space you’d left, pulling out a chair with an exaggerated huff. “you always have to get the last word, don’t you?”

i love you.

your gaze narrowed, and a small, knowing smile tugged at your lips. “only because you never know when to stop talking,” you replied, your tone quieter now but no less pointed.

i love you back.

the corners of his mouth twitched into a smirk, but he didn’t respond. instead, he sank into his seat, leaning back with an air of triumph.

you moved to the opposite side of the table, pulling out the chair directly across from him. sarah, still watching, shot rafe a glare. “you’re such a jerk,” she muttered under her breath before disappearing back into the kitchen.

the second she was gone, your eyes flicked back to rafe. he was already looking at you, his smirk softening into something more playful. he winked, the gesture quick and subtle, and you had to bite down on your bottom lip to keep from smiling.

you and rafe had navigated the evening like it was your own secret game, your relationship hidden in plain sight.

now, just a year later at the same christmas dinner, the only thing hidden is the sharp ache that settles in your chest whenever you catch sight of him.

the breakup isn’t totally fresh—weeks and weeks have passed, long enough for the initial sting to fade into something duller, quieter. still, the weight of it lingers, like the ghost of a bruise. you tell yourself you’re over it, over him, that whatever you’d felt has burned out long before the end. but being here, in the same room, breathing the same air, makes it harder to convince yourself of that.

you sit through dinner with practiced ease, smiling at the right moments, laughing when it feels appropriate. rafe, seated across the table, seems to be doing the same. his face is unreadable, his attention focused on his plate or the conversations around him, but you can feel his presence like a steady hum beneath your skin.

after the plates are cleared and the wine glasses refilled, you slip outside. you sit on the front step of the porch, knees pulled to your chest, arms wrapped loosely around them, and you stare out into the quiet, your thoughts drifting aimlessly.

the sound of the door creaking open breaks the silence. you don’t turn, but you know it’s him before he even steps outside.

rafe lingers in the doorway for a moment. he looks down at the drink in his hand, his thumb brushing idly against the rim of the glass. then, without a word, he walks over and sits down beside you. the step creaks faintly under his weight as he sets his drink down beside him.

for a while, he doesn’t say anything. neither of you do. the silence isn’t comfortable, but it isn’t unbearable either—it’s just . . . there.

you keep your gaze fixed on the horizon, the faint outline of trees against the dark sky. rafe sits with his hands loosely clasped between his knees, his shoulders hunched slightly forward. the space between you feels like miles, even though he’s close enough that you can feel the faint warmth of him against the cold night air.

rafe breaks the quiet. his voice is low, almost tentative. “sorry about the, uh . . .” he gestures vaguely to his shirt, where the faintest stain from earlier is barely visible in the dim light.

it takes you a second to catch on, but then you remember: during dinner, his drink had tipped—his fault entirely—and splashed across the front of your sweater and slightly his own. there’s a faint smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

“don’t worry,” you say lightly, turning your gaze back to the houses across the lots. “you saved me from wearing that thing ever again. it was time to let it go.”

he huffs out a small laugh, looking down at his hands. “yeah, well. still.”

for a moment, it feels like the edges of the past have softened, like you’ve both stepped into some neutral ground where the weight of everything isn’t crushing you. but the moment doesn’t last. something itches at the back of your mind, a question you’ve thought about too many times to count but never dared to ask.

you turn your head slightly, just enough to face his direction, though your eyes stay fixed on the porch railing. your voice is quieter now, more careful. “why did you . . . ?”

you don’t finish the question. maybe you don’t know how to, or maybe you’re afraid of the answer. but rafe knows. he always does.

he exhales slowly, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “why did i what?”

“you know,” you murmur.

he’s quiet for a moment, and when he finally speaks, there’s a weariness in his voice that mirrors your own. “i guess, i didn’t know what else to do. after everything, i just—” he stops himself, shaking his head. “i thought maybe if i kept moving, kept doing . . . something, it’d feel less like everything was falling apart.”

you nod slowly. because you’d noticed, of course, the way he threw himself into everything—work, parties, anything to fill the spaces you used to occupy. you’d wondered if it was his way of coping or if it was just his way of running.

“and did it?” you ask, finally glancing at him.

he looks over at you, his blue eyes shadowed in the dim light. “did it what?”

“feel less like everything was falling apart.”

his lips press into a thin line, and he looks away, his gaze falling to the ground. “no,” he admits, so quietly you almost don’t hear it.

you nod again, your fingers picking idly at the hem of your new sweater. “me neither,” you say softly, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

he looks at you then, really looks at you, like he’s trying to read the things you’re not saying. but you don’t meet his gaze, keeping your focus on the dark horizon instead.

“i didn’t think you’d leave,” he says after a moment, his voice rough around the edges.

the words hit harder than you expect, even though you’ve thought about this moment a thousand times. “i didn’t think i would either,” you confess.

and there it is, the unspoken story between you—the weight of everything you’ve been through, the cracks and fractures that finally gave way. you don’t say any more, and neither does he.

so your hand moves before you even think about it, reaching across the space between you. his hand is resting on his thigh, fingers loosely curled, and you gently wrap your own fingers around the back of it, curling into his palm. you don’t say anything—there’s nothing to say, not really—but you squeeze once, firm enough to tell him without words that you’re here, that you’re still here, even if it doesn’t feel like enough.

he doesn’t look at you. his eyes stay fixed on the grass in the front yard. for a second, you think maybe he won’t respond, maybe he won’t let you in. but then his hand twitches beneath yours, his fingers shifting to squeeze back, just once. it’s a quiet thank you, a wordless acceptance of something neither of you can name.

you feel a lump rising in your throat, the vulnerability in his silence cutting through you in a way nothing else could. you know he doesn’t want to talk about it, so you say the first thing that comes to mind, something stupid, something that might make him laugh.

“i just, you know, didn’t think you’d ever play basketball with topper again,” you say, your voice light, almost teasing. “i mean, didn’t he break your nose last time?”

you glance at him, hoping for a smile, for something to break the tension. and for a second, you think it works. his lips twitch, the corner of his mouth lifting into a bitter smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. he just stares at the grass, his fingers tightening slightly around yours before letting go.

the silence stretches again, thicker this time, and when he finally speaks, his voice is low, almost a whisper. “you always have to get the last word, don’t you?”

your chest tightens, the words hitting harder than they should. it’s not just what he says—it’s how he says it. your expression hardens, the realization sinking in like a stone. he’s not talking about the joke. he’s talking about you. about this. about the way it all ended, the way you ended it.

the code you made up a year ago flashes in your mind, unbidden. you always have to get the last word. it was supposed to be a joke after that, a way to tease each other when you argued over stupid things, but now it feels like something else entirely. something sharp and unforgiving.

i love you.

you don’t say anything at first, the guilt settling heavy in your chest. you know he’s right. you know what he’s trying to say, even if he won’t come out and say it. but what can you do? what can you possibly say that will make any of this better?

finally, after what feels like forever, you whisper, “i know.”

you can’t bring yourself to look at him, but out of the corner of your eye, you see the way his jaw clenches, the way his head dips lower. the dim porch light catches on his face, and you realize his eyes are glossed over, though he doesn’t let a single tear fall.

he doesn’t look at you, and you don’t blame him. you can’t bring yourself to look at him either. you just sit there, side by side, the space between you feeling wider than ever.

[rafestyles]

celeb crush | drew starkey smau

part eleven (づ￣ ³￣)づ

masterlist

10 | 11 | 12

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: 　　:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

a/n: oh! hi! so sorry it's been almost a week - it's been so busy with the holiday coming up!!! i'm really trying not to let these two be all **love at first sight** buuttttt it's also precious. there will be some angst coming up - but i promise it will be short lived!!!!!!! i want them to be fluffy, because this is entirely self-indulgent BUT i also love some good angst >:) ANYWHOOO i love u guys so much. blown away by the amount of love i've received on this silly little series. i am kissing u all. ALSO - from here on out: if you want to be added to the taglist PLEASE send me an ask. tyyyyyy :) PLS REBLOG!!!!!

taglist: @aariahnaa / @rafegf-real / @frankoceanluvr11 / @percysley / @rafesdrew / @simpfomarvel / @sovuckie / @wh0re4drewstarkey / @ethanthequeefqueen / @rafeycameronsgf / @simpfomarvel / @ilovefiction4lmen / @girl-detective16 / @scream4mami / @missamericanablog / @littlefreak-liz / @obx-archives / @purplerose291 / @realizemandi97 / @tqd4455 / @xoxo-ada / @angelicameron / @ursogorgeous13 / @katiebby04 / @rafecamerons-national-anthem / @lilyhyperfixates / @louxmcl / @luvhsien / @wdwbts101 / @amel1ee / @wcnorris / @1998xoxoamber

[bettys-redwinesupernova]

I THINK HE KNOWS

drew starkey x fem!reader

(mood board does NOT depict reader’s appearance!)

SUMMARY: daniel craig introduces his daughter to his co-star drew starkey at the after party for the ‘golden globes,’ and they do more than just hit it off.🫣

based on this ask !! i got a little carried away with this one and i could genuinely write a WHOLE fic with drew x daniel craig’s daughter😫 i have so many ideas for this pairing, so lmk if you wanna see more !! i hope you enjoy this @drewstarrrkey <3

WARNINGS: fluff & smut (18+, MDNI!), cursing, alcohol consumption, flirty!reader, cursing, p in v, fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before ya tap it😣), switch!drew (mostly dom), like one (?) use of ‘good girl,’ body worship, LOTS of foreplay😝. (lmk if i missed anything!!)

WORD COUNT: 5.2k (i got REALLY carried away😭)

THIRD PERSON +

The energy of the Golden Globes after-party was electric. The clinking of glasses, low hum of laughter, and faint music filled the space. Celebrities mingled under the soft glow of chandeliers, conversations buzzing with excitement about the evening's wins.

Drew Starkey sat at the bar nursing a glass of champagne, still slightly stunned from his earlier win. He'd barely had time to process the moment—his first major nomination and now his first big award.

The crowd was overwhelming, but his co-star, Daniel Craig, had insisted he celebrate properly. Drew watched as Daniel cut through the party with his unmistakable presence, shaking hands, embracing friends, and flashing that rare smile that could light up a room. Behind him, someone followed, and Drew's attention lingered just a little too long.

"Starkey!" Daniel's voice carried above the noise. Drew straightened instinctively, placing his glass back down as Daniel approached.

"Hey!" Drew smiled. "Congrats again. Well deserved, man."

"Thank you. Same to you." Daniel clapped him on the shoulder before stepping to the side. "I want you to meet someone."

Stepping forward with a confident stride was a young woman, poised but relaxed in a way that suggested she belonged in a room like this. Daniel turned to her with an almost affectionate roll of his eyes.

"This is my daughter, Y/N."

Y/N smiled and offered her hand to Drew. "Hi. I've heard so much about you."

Drew shook her hand, his mind scrambling for composure. "You too. I mean—I haven't heard about you in that sense, but your dad's mentioned you. Not in a bad way—uh, I mean—" He stopped, exhaling with a self-deprecating laugh. "Sorry, I'm a bit flustered. It's nice to meet you."

Y/N grinned. "Quite the introduction, Drew."

Daniel raised a brow at them both, clearly amused. "Well, I'll leave you two to it. I see a few friends I need to go bother." He glanced at Drew. "Behave yourself."

Drew let out an awkward laugh. "Of course. Always."

Daniel walked away, disappearing into the crowd. Y/N turned back to Drew, tilting her head slightly as she observed him. "He's very fond of you, you know."

"Is he?" Drew replied, trying to play it cool. "He's great. Working with him was... surreal, honestly."

"I'd imagine. I've seen the movie, of course. You were phenomenal." Her tone was warm, genuine, and Drew found himself smiling at her praise.

"Thank you. That means a lot."

She leaned against the bar, signaling to the bartender for a drink. "You look surprised."

"I guess I just... still don't know how to take compliments," Drew admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's all been a bit overwhelming."

"You shouldn't be so modest. Your performance was stunning. And you've got the trophy to prove it." She shot him a teasing smile. "Don't let it go to your head, though."

Drew laughed, finally feeling himself relax. "I'll try my best. And you—your dad said you're an actress as well? And a model?"

"Here and there. I've done some niche indie films—ones that play in small theatres no one ever goes to." Her voice was light, self-deprecating but playful.

"Niche or not, that's impressive." Drew met her gaze. "What kind of roles?"

Y/N paused as the bartender slid a glass of wine her way. "I guess you could say I play a lot of brooding, lost souls. The ones who always seem to sit by windows and stare out dramatically."

"Ah, very serious. Lots of silent contemplation?"

"Exactly." Y/N laughed softly. "But enough about me. Tell me about Queer. It must've been... intense to film."

"It was." Drew nodded, leaning his elbow on the bar as he turned toward her. "Luca Gaudagnino has this way of making you feel completely vulnerable. It was a challenge, but I trusted him. There's this scene—I'm sure you remember it—where my character completely unravels."

"How could I forget?" Y/N said softly, her eyes locked on his. "You were so raw in that moment. It was almost uncomfortable to watch because it felt so real."

Drew blinked, feeling his ears heat. "That's what Luca wanted. He kept pushing me to 'stop acting,' as he put it. He'd say, 'Feel it. Don't pretend to feel it.' I'd never worked like that before."

"Well, it paid off. Watching you was like watching someone break open right in front of me. Vulnerable, stripped back..." She paused, taking a sip of her wine. "And now here you are, Golden Globe in hand."

Drew looked away, smiling sheepishly. "I'm still processing it."

"You deserve it," Y/N replied firmly. "And no one here is going to let you forget it."

Drew looked at her again, unable to ignore the spark in her gaze. She was bold—not just in what she said, but how she carried herself. It was disarming. "You've got a way with words."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Y/N smiled mischievously. "So tell me, Drew Starkey... how's the fame treating you?"

He groaned playfully, shaking his head. "You're going to make me sound insufferable."

"On the contrary, I think you're handling yourself rather well."

"You say that now," Drew teased. "Talk to me in six months when I've gone completely Hollywood."

"Mm, I don't think that's in your nature." Y/N tilted her head thoughtfully. "You seem far too grounded for that."

"You don't know me yet," Drew countered.

"Well, I'm a very good judge of character. Comes with the territory of being Daniel Craig's daughter—lots of egos to sift through."

Drew raised his brows, amused. "Is that right?"

"Absolutely. I'm rarely wrong." She gave him a sly look. "And my read on you so far is: humble, charming, and maybe a little too hard on yourself."

Drew chuckled, caught off guard. "You're bold."

"Life's too short not to be."

Drew shook his head with a small smile. "And what's your read on yourself?"

Y/N leaned in slightly, her voice dropping just enough to feel conspiratorial. "That would spoil the fun, wouldn't it?"

Drew swallowed, the teasing lilt in her voice setting him slightly off balance. There was a beat of silence between them, the kind that crackled with unspoken tension. He cleared his throat, reaching for his champagne. "You're a mystery, Y/N."

"And you're still a little flustered," she teased, her grin widening. "Do I make you nervous, Drew?"

"Maybe." Drew gave her a crooked smile, holding her gaze. "But I think you like that."

Y/N laughed, the sound light and rich. "I do. I'm not afraid to admit it."

Drew shook his head in disbelief. "You're something else."

"So I've been told." She took another sip of wine, her expression softening just a touch. "But really—what's next for you? After all this?"

Drew shrugged, glancing around the room as if the answer might be hidden somewhere among the guests. "I don't know. This feels like such a huge moment, you know? I almost don't want to think about what's next. I just want to enjoy this."

"As you should." Y/N nodded approvingly. "Don't let anyone rush you."

"I won't." Drew paused, meeting her eyes again. "But... I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little scared of what comes after. What if I can't live up to it?"

"You will," Y/N said softly, her tone sincere. "You've got the talent, Drew. The rest will follow."

Drew studied her for a moment, his chest feeling strangely warm. "You're very good at this."

"At what?"

"Making people feel seen."

Y/N smiled, her expression unreadable. "Maybe you just needed someone to see you tonight."

Drew felt his heart skip, the weight of her words settling between them. Before he could respond, Y/N placed her empty glass on the bar.

"Come on," she said, standing. "You're far too interesting to spend the whole night glued to this bar stool."

"Where are we going?" Drew asked, standing to follow her.

Y/N looked over her shoulder with a mischievous smile. "You'll just have to follow me."

And he did. Without hesitation. A “Yes, ma’am,” slipping from his lips.

Drew followed Y/N as she led him away from the bar, weaving effortlessly through the crowd. She moved with a sort of practiced ease, as if she'd spent her whole life in rooms like this—grand, glittering, and full of famous faces. Drew, still buzzing from the champagne and the residual adrenaline of the evening, was mesmerized.

"I'm dying of curiosity here, where exactly are we going?" Drew asked, his voice tinged with amusement as they turned down a quieter hallway leading away from the main party.

"Somewhere a little less chaotic," Y/N replied, glancing back at him. "Unless you'd rather keep bumping elbows with half of Hollywood."

"No complaints here," Drew said, matching her steps. "I think I've shaken enough hands tonight to last me the rest of the year."

Y/N pushed open a door at the end of the hall, revealing a small terrace overlooking the city. The night air was cool, crisp against their skin as they stepped outside. The noise of the party dulled behind them, replaced by the distant hum of Los Angeles and the quiet rustling of trees in the breeze.

"Better?" Y/N asked, turning to face him.

Drew exhaled, his shoulders relaxing as he looked out over the skyline. "Much better. Thanks."

Y/N leaned against the railing, watching him with an unreadable expression. "You looked like you needed an escape."

"I guess I did." Drew joined her, leaning beside her, their arms nearly brushing. "It's a lot, you know? I'm grateful—don't get me wrong—but... I don't think I'm cut out for the whole schmoozing thing."

"Most people aren't. They just pretend they are." Y/N's lips curled into a small smile. "Besides, you've already done the hard part tonight. The rest is noise."

Drew glanced at her, the city lights reflecting in her eyes. "You're good at this—reading people."

She shrugged lightly, her tone playful but laced with truth. "It's my party trick."

"Anything else I should know about you?" Drew teased. "Other hidden talents?"

"Plenty," she replied with a grin and a cheeky wink. "But I'm not about to give them all away at once. That would ruin the mystery."

Drew shook his head with a laugh, tucking his hands into his pockets. "You're impossible."

"I get that a lot," she said, unfazed. "But you haven't run off yet, have you?"

"No," Drew admitted, his smile softening. "I haven't."

Y/N's gaze lingered on him for a moment before she looked back out at the city. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Did you ever think you'd end up here?" She gestured vaguely to the world around them. "Holding a Golden Globe, being the name on everyone's lips?"

Drew was quiet for a beat, choosing his words carefully. "I don't think it ever felt real enough to imagine. I wanted it, of course—I worked for it—but this? This feels like someone else's life."

"And yet, here you are."

"Here I am," he echoed, looking at her. "What about you? You've grown up in all of this. Does it ever lose its shine?"

Y/N's expression faltered, just for a moment, as if the question touched on something deeper. "Sometimes," she admitted. "It's easy to feel like you're just a part of the machinery—another face in a sea of them. But then you meet someone who reminds you why you love it, why it's worth it."

Drew tilted his head slightly, his curiosity piqued. "Is that why you act? Because you love it?"

"Because I can't not do it," Y/N said simply. "Even when it's thankless, even when no one's watching... I need it."

Drew understood that. It resonated deep within him—the need to create, to express, to push boundaries for reasons that weren't always tangible.

"I get that," he murmured. "The best moments are the ones no one else sees. The ones you do for yourself."

Y/N turned to face him fully, her eyes sharp and intent. "Exactly. And that's what makes what you did in Queer so powerful. It didn't feel performative. It felt real, like you gave a part of yourself away for it."

Drew swallowed, her words hitting him harder than he expected. "I'm honoured. That's... the best compliment I've ever gotten."

"It's true," she said softly. "And for what it's worth, I think you're just getting started."

Drew looked at her, something shifting between them in the quiet. He felt seen—more than that, he felt understood. Y/N Craig, with her razor-sharp wit and unwavering confidence, had peeled back his layers in a way no one else had managed all night.

"You really don't hold back, do you?" Drew said, his voice low.

Y/N smirked, stepping closer. "Why should I? Life's too short for subtlety."

Drew's breath hitched as the space between them narrowed. She was close enough now that he could catch the faintest trace of her perfume—something heady and elegant that suited her perfectly.

"You're dangerous," Drew said, his voice a little unsteady.

Y/N arched a brow, clearly amused. "Am I?"

"Yeah." Drew's lips curved into a small smile. "The kind of person who makes you forget to play it safe."

Y/N tilted her head, her eyes locking with his. "And do you always play it safe, Drew Starkey?"

Drew hesitated for just a second before answering. "Not tonight."

Y/N's smile widened, a knowing glint in her eyes. She reached up, her fingers brushing the lapel of his suit jacket. "Good."

The air crackled between them, thick with unspoken possibilities. Drew could feel his pulse quicken, every sense heightened as Y/N held his gaze. She was testing him, waiting to see what he'd do.

And for once, Drew didn't think—he just acted.

"Do you want to get out of here?" he asked, his voice low and rough.

Y/N's smile was slow and deliberate. "I thought you'd never ask."

Drew grinned, a mix of nerves and excitement flickering across his face as Y/N tugged him by the hand, leading him back through the terrace door. The pair slipped back into the hallway unnoticed, the music and chatter of the afterparty drowning out their hasty footsteps.

"Are we seriously sneaking our way out right now?" Drew whispered, though the grin he wore betrayed any hesitation.

"Unless you'd rather stay and talk to George Clooney about his favorite vineyards," Y/N teased, looking back at him with a mischievous smile. "Then we need to make haste!"

Drew huffed a quiet laugh. "Okay, fair point. Let's go."

They moved quickly, dodging small clusters of guests and waitstaff like a pair of teenagers sneaking out of school. Every time their eyes met, a fit of laughter threatened to spill out of them.

"Act natural," Y/N mock-coached as they passed one of the party coordinators.

"Yeah, because that's going well," Drew shot back, trying to suppress his smirk.

Finally, they pushed through a side exit and found themselves in the cool night air, away from the golden haze of the afterparty. The parking area was quiet, save for a valet who barely looked up as Y/N called for a car.

"God, I feel like we just got away with murder," Drew muttered, running a hand through his hair as he stood beside her.

Y/N grinned up at him, her cheeks flushed. "Feels kind of good, doesn't it?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah... yeah, it really does."

The car pulled up, and Y/N wasted no time climbing into the backseat. Drew followed, sliding in beside her and shutting the door. The silence in the car was loaded, broken only by the faint hum of the radio and the distant sounds of the city.

"Your hotel, I assume?" Y/N asked, glancing at him.

"Yeah." Drew cleared his throat, suddenly feeling the weight of what they were doing hit him. He glanced at her and added softly, "If that's okay."

Y/N gave him a teasing look. "Wouldn't be here if it wasn't, would I?"

Drew felt the heat rise to his cheeks, and he covered it with a laugh. "Right. Fair point."

The ride to the hotel felt like a blur, the two of them making light conversation as they both tried to ignore the electric undercurrent running between them. When the car finally pulled up to Drew's hotel, he shot Y/N a nervous glance.

"You sure about this?" he asked quietly.

Y/N's lips twitched into a smirk as she leaned closer, her voice low and teasing. "You're not getting cold feet, are you?"

"Definitely not," Drew said quickly, earning another quiet laugh from her.

They hurried through the lobby—heads down, hands brushing but never fully touching. Drew felt like his heart was pounding in his ears as they reached the elevator. The moment the doors slid shut, Y/N let out a giggle, biting her lower lip.

"We look so suspicious right now," she whispered.

"You look suspicious," Drew shot back with a grin. "I look like someone trying not to have a heart attack."

She rolled her eyes playfully, stepping closer to him. "Relax, Golden Globe winner. No one's paying attention to us."

"That's the problem," Drew muttered under his breath, earning another soft laugh from her.

The elevator dinged, and they stepped onto Drew's floor. He fumbled briefly with the keycard as Y/N watched, clearly entertained by how flustered he'd become.

"Need help?" she teased.

"I've got it," Drew replied quickly, finally getting the door open. He held it for her as she stepped inside, and he followed, shutting it behind them.

The hotel room was simple and sleek, the lights dim as Drew tossed his keycard onto the desk. He turned to find Y/N standing near the window, looking out at the glittering cityscape. She turned to face him, her expression softer now, though still full of that familiar mischief.

But it was like something had switched in the air. Drew leaning back against the door as he studied her.

"So," he began, his voice quiet but laced with an edge that made her stomach twist, "I bet you think you're calling the shots tonight?"

Y/N raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest. "I mean, I guess we'll see who's running this show, won't we?"

Drew pushed off the door, taking a slow step toward her. His movements were deliberate, almost predatory, and Y/N found herself instinctively taking a small step back. But she wasn't about to let him see her falter. She leaned forward slightly, her lips quirking into a smirk.

"You walk like you own the place," she said, her tone teasing. "But I bet you're all talk."

Drew stopped just inches away from her, his breath warm against her skin. He lifted a hand, brushing a strand of hair away from her face, his touch surprisingly gentle for someone who seemed so intent on dominating the situation.

"Careful, Y/N," he warned softly, his voice almost a whisper. "You might be surprised at what I'm capable of."

His fingers trailed down her neck, and she shivered despite herself. What is this? she wondered, her earlier confidence beginning to waver. There was something magnetic about him, something that pulled her in despite her best efforts to maintain control.

"Or maybe," she countered, tilting her chin up defiantly, "you're just trying to scare me."

Drew's lips twitched into a smile, but there was no warmth in it. "Maybe I am," he admitted, his voice dropping lower. "But why don't we find out?"

Before she could respond, his hands were on her hips, pulling her closer until their bodies pressed together. Y/N gasped softly, her pulse quickening as his proximity overwhelmed her senses. His lips were so close to hers, his breath mingling with hers, and she couldn't help but tilt her face upward, drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

"You're playing a dangerous game," he murmured, his voice rough and intimate. "And I'm not one for playing games."

Y/N swallowed hard, suddenly very aware of how much taller and stronger he was than her. But she wasn't about to back down. "Good," she said, forcing herself to meet his gaze. "Because I like a challenge."

Drew's eyes darkened, and without warning, he dipped his head, capturing her lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was commanding, urgent, and left no room for doubt about who was in charge. Y/N's hands flew to his shoulders, gripping tightly as she tried to steady herself against the wave of desire that washed over her.

His tongue traced the seam of her lips, demanding entry, and she parted them instinctively, allowing him access. The kiss deepened, grew more intense, and Y/N felt her knees weaken. Drew held her firmly, his hands sliding up her sides to cup her face, angling her head to deepen the connection.

When he finally pulled away, Y/N was breathless, her cheeks flushed and her chest rising and falling rapidly. She blinked up at him, dazed and disoriented, and realized with a jolt that she'd completely underestimated him.

"As wonderful as that was," Drew said, his voice husky and raw. "I think I need to go slower. Test your limits."

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as she stared up at him, realisation dawning. He's not bluffing, she thought, her earlier confidence faltering. Drew was lethal, charming, and utterly in control, and she had walked right into his trap.

"What do you want from me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Drew's lips curved into a wicked smile as he leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. "Everything."

His hand slid from her hip to the small of her back, pressing her closer against him. The heat between them was electric, a palpable tension that threatened to ignite at any moment.

Y/N's breath came in short bursts as she tilted her head up, her lips parted in anticipation. He's not going to kiss me, she thought, not yet. But the way his eyes darkened, the way his fingers flexed against her skin, told her she was wrong. He was going to do exactly what he wanted, and she was going to let him.

"Tell me what you want," he murmured, his lips hovering just inches from hers. "Tell me how much you like this."

She hesitated for a split second, but only a split second. Her boldness was ingrained, a survival mechanism honed by years of attention and expectation. "I like it," she said, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her. "I like that you're taking control."

Drew's smile was slow, predatory. "Good girl," he said, the words soft but laced with authority. He kissed her then, a deep, bruising kiss that left no room for doubt. His tongue swept into her mouth, demanding, exploring, claiming. Y/N melted into him, her hands gripping his shoulders for balance as the world around her dissolved into sensation.

When he finally pulled away, they were both breathless. Drew stared down at her, his blue eyes gleaming with something that made her stomach twist. "You're not in control here, sweetheart," he said, his tone conversational but firm. "Not anymore."

Y/N swallowed hard, her earlier confidence faltering. He's right, she realised. I walked into this thinking I could handle him, but he's handling me. And God, it was intoxicating.

Drew didn't wait for her response. Instead, he turned her gently, positioning her with her back to him. Her heart raced as she felt his body press against hers, his chest warm and solid against her spine. His hand cupped her breast, thumb brushing over her nipple through the fabric of her dress. She gasped, arching into his touch.

"Do you trust me?" he asked, his voice rumbling against her ear.

She nodded quickly, too caught up in the sensations to form words.

"Good," he said, his grip tightening momentarily before he released her. Y/N blinked, confused, as Drew stepped back. He moved to the bed, sitting down and leaning back on his elbows, his legs stretched out in front of him. His gaze was intense, predatory, as he watched her.

"Take off your dress," he said simply.

The command hit her like a bolt of lightning. Y/N hesitated, her hands moving instinctively to the zipper at the back of her gown. She glanced at Drew, expecting... something. A smile, maybe, or a reassuring word. But his expression remained unchanged, a mask of calm dominance.

He's serious, she thought, her pulse quickening. He wants me to do this for him.

Slowly, deliberately, she began to unzip her dress. The fabric slid down her shoulders, pooling at her hips. She shrugged it off, letting it fall to the floor in a heap. Beneath it, she wore only a lace bra and matching panties, the delicate garments doing little to conceal her arousal.

Drew's eyes roamed over her body, lingering on the curve of her waist, the swell of her breasts, the slight tremble in her thighs. "Beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with approval. "But not enough."

Y/N's brow furrowed. "What—"

"Shh," he interrupted, raising a hand to silence her. "Don't talk. Just listen."

Her breath caught in her throat as Drew leaned forward, his movements fluid and precise. He reached out, his fingers brushing against the strap of her bra. With a flick of his wrist, he sent it sliding down her arm. Her nipples tightened immediately, peaking under his scrutiny.

"Perfect," he said, his voice a low purr. He cupped her breast in his hand, squeezing gently. Y/N bit her lip to stifle a moan, her legs trembling beneath her.

Drew's free hand reached for the waistband of her panties, tugging them downward until they clung to her hips. He paused there, his fingers tracing the edge of the fabric before hooking his thumbs into the sides and pulling them down her legs.

Y/N stood before him completely exposed, her cheeks burning with embarrassment and arousal. Drew's gaze was relentless, unapologetic, as he took in every inch of her.

"Turn around," he commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.

She obeyed, her movements stiff with nervousness. When she faced away from him, Drew's hands returned to her body, one stroking down her spine while the other traced the curve of her ass.

"So beautiful," he whispered, his breath hot against her skin. He pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck, his lips lingering as his hands explored her body with increasing boldness.

Y/N's knees nearly buckled beneath her. This is happening, she thought, her brain struggling to keep up with the intensity of the moment. He's really doing this.

Without warning, Drew spun her around and pushed her backward onto the bed. Y/N landed with a soft thud, her heart pounding as she looked up at him. Drew loomed over her, his expression dark and commanding.

"Spread your legs," he ordered, his voice sharp and clipped.

Y/N hesitated, her mind racing. Is this what I want? The question flashed through her mind, but the answer was already there, buried beneath the haze of desire clouding her judgment.

She spread her legs, her breathing shallow and uneven. Drew's eyes flicked down, noting her readiness with a smirk.

"Good girl," he said, the words dripping with approval. He knelt between her thighs, his fingers skimming the inside of her knee before moving upward. Y/N's breath hitched as his touch neared her core, her body tensing in anticipation.

And then, quite suddenly, he stopped.

"Wait," he said, his voice firm.

Y/N blinked up at him, confusion and frustration warring within her. "What?" she managed to whisper.

Drew's smile was wicked, almost cruel. "I need to hear you say it."

"Say what?"

His fingers pressed against her inner thigh, applying just enough pressure to make her squirm. "Tell me what you want," he demanded. "Tell me how much you need this."

Y/N's cheeks flushed crimson, her confidence faltering under his unrelenting gaze. "I... I don't know," she stammered, her voice barely audible.

Drew's expression hardened, his hand withdrawing from her thigh. "Then we're done here."

"No!" she cried, desperation clawing at her throat. "Please, Drew, I—"

"Say it," he interrupted, his voice a low growl.

She hesitated, her pride warring with her need. But she needed this, more than she cared to admit. "Please," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I... I need you to fuck me."

At her admission, Drew's control snapped. His hands and lips were everywhere, leaving no part of her untouched, no moment unexplored.

And within a split-second, he pushed into her, filling her completely. She gasped, her body adjusting to his size, her muscles tightening around him. Drew began to move, his rhythm slow and steady, building the tension once more. He watched her face intently, reading every twitch and moan, adjusting his movements to maximise her pleasure. It was as if he could feel every sensation she was experiencing, as if they were connected in a way that went beyond the physical.

He leaned down, capturing her mouth in another bruising kiss. His hand found her clit, his thumb circling it in time with his thrusts.

The cacophony of sounds filled the room: slick skin connecting, Y/N's breathless whimpers and cries of pure pleasure, Drew's soft moans. But to them it sounded like a symphony; a truly bewitching one.

"Y/N," Drew said her name like a prayer, his voice ragged with volatile emotions. "Look at me."

She obeyed, meeting his gaze as tears of ecstasy blurred her vision. This was it, she realised. This was what she'd been missing. The raw, unfiltered connection, the trust, the surrender.

"Don't look away," he commanded, his voice fierce but tender. "Stay with me."

She nodded, her breathing shallow as she clung to him, her body tense with anticipation. And then, as if on cue, her climax hit her like a tidal wave, her entire body convulsing with pleasure as she screamed his name.

Drew followed soon after, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he poured himself into her, his body shuddering with release. For a moment, they lay there in silence, their hearts pounding in sync.

"So," she said quietly, breaking the silence. "Not a bad way to celebrate your first Golden Globe win, is it?"

Drew let out a soft laugh, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Not bad at all."

Y/N grinned, lifting her head to look at him. "Good. Because I plan on reminding you about this night for years."

Drew rolled his eyes, though he was smiling. "You're never going to let me live this down, are you?"

"Not a chance."

Drew shook his head, pulling her closer. "You're the worst."

"And yet, here we are," Y/N teased, settling back against him.

Drew couldn't argue with that. As he lay there, listening to her quiet breathing and staring up at the ceiling, he couldn't help but think that this was, without a doubt, the best night of his life.

(dividers by @kodaswrld !!)

betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

i had SO much fun writing this request and i REALLY got carried away XD i hope this wasn’t too long, and was exactly what you wanted my lovely :) request are going to be open for the next 24 hours so get some in if you have anymore everyone !! <3

thinking of starting a tag list if anybody’s interested? as always, hearts and reblogs are always appreciated <3

[shrimpybbq]

a timeline of rafe cameron and obx actress!reader’s character’s relationship (+ their real life one) pt 1

anon request: do you think you could do little headcannons or like a timeline of each season of their relationship or her character’s involvement in the show? i’m OBSESSED💜

season 1: the set up

introducing, the pogues. all the usual suspects are shown, but the second episode of the season introduces iris. a pogue somewhat mixed up in both sides. she was three years older than the rest of the group, but knew them well as she was jj’s neighbour, and luke always made her babysit jj as a kid, even though she had no clue what to do

iris went to kildare academy on a scholarship and she was always treated awfully for it. she took on a job at a men’s boutique in town too, needing to help pay the bills at home. she also worked as a waitress at the wreck during summer

she’s beautiful though, and as much as she hates the attention, it helps her get extra tips at work

rafe was in her year at the academy, but often got suspended (before ward paid the school off), and the pair never really talked - except for one time

rafe was having a coke-induced panic attack outside the school, crouching down and clawing at his throat as he was convinced no air could get through. he barely even comprehends when iris crouches next to him, soothingly telling him to breathe, allowing him to follow her in-out breathing pattern. he doesn’t realise it’s her until the attack begins to subside and he’s so embarrassed, but mumbles a thank you anyway. he rudely demands she not tell anyone and to his surprise she nods and says “Why would I tell anyone, Rafe? Everyone struggles sometimes and they shouldn’t have that held against them,”

that’s the only proper conversation they have

however, rafe did think she was super hot, but made himself a promise that he’d never stoop so low as to fuck a pogue, and so refuses to give her any more of his attention

after high school, everyone expects iris to go off to college on a fancy scholarship, but her mom gets sick and she stays on the island, doing her best to take care of her. she’s working almost full time at the men’s boutique, which is where she starts to see rafe more and more

the pair strike up an odd relationship - they’re amicable but never too friendly. she just views rafe as an old (overly classist and rude) classmate, but to rafe’s chagrin, he begins to develop a small crush on her

her role in the first season is almost adjacent to the rest of the pogues, with her not doing much as part of the main plot until midsummers. rose hired her to attend the party and supervise wheezie the whole night, so that’s what she’s doing until jj runs into her. as she watches him being chased, she follows the boys down the hall only to see the kooks beating on jj. rafe is surprised that he finds himself ashamed of her seeing him acting like this,

“Come on Iris, get out of here! You don’t need to watch this shit!”

“Let him go, Rafe! What the hell!”

rafe also finds himself gawking at the sight of iris all dressed up, unable to tear his eyes away from her

after that debacle, she’s joining the pogues at the lighthouse once wheezie goes to bed, sighing when she hears of their antics. they don’t ask her to help them, but she tells them to let her know if they have any clues they need solving - she misses using her brain

there’s a scene between iris and rafe once he’s been kicked out, with iris going to barry’s trailer to buy painkillers for her mom. he’s all pathetic and desperate but he doesn’t want her to see him that way, lying that he left home. she doesn’t believe him, but the pair share somewhat of a moment before she goes,

“Stay safe, Rafe… he shouldn’t treat you like that,”

“What?”

“Your dad. He’s not right about you, I can tell. Don’t let him get to you,”

she’s 100% with the pogues when they go to pawn off the gold, jj claiming that she is a good negotiator and they need her skills. barry curses to himself when he notices she’s with them as he holds the group hostage, knowing she’s too good to be stuck in this situation

barry and iris have struck up some sort of weird friendship over the years. they've definitely smoked weed together more than once

when barry rants to rafe about the hold up, he doesn’t notice the way rafe tenses up at the idea of her (and his sister) being hurt

she’s not there on the tarmac when rafe shoots peterkin, but he does come across her at the boutique when he’s hunting john b down. iris hadn’t been told anything by the pogues yet though, so she talks with him as normal, stating that the younger boy couldn’t have murdered the sheriff. she's known him for years

rafe tells her to stay safe and watch out, hoping somehow that she won’t get caught up in all of the drama. he even demands her phone, putting his number in it for her to call if she needs help

“Just, y’know, reach out if something doesn’t feel right, ‘k?

she does use her car to drive the pogues to the warehouse upon request from jj to help get the phantom ready, only for the group to be intercepted by rafe and barry. it’s there she learns that it was in fact rafe who shot the sheriff, and he doesn’t take her reaction well

she’s shocked and horrified, staring at rafe frightened, trying to stay far away from him. he doesn’t notice the concern that filters through her expression, her knowing that there’s more to this story. she knew rafe - not well, but enough to know he wasn’t eagerly and ruthlessly murdering people

she’s still frozen and staying far away until he’s beating her friends once more. only then does she try and pull him off of them, but she doesn’t stop pope from hitting him

rafe is losing his grip as he realises iris has left with the pogues, and probably hates him now. he finally had found someone he thought understood him, and now she had been poisoned against him

iris ends up at the tent with the younger pogues, watching hopelessly as sarah and john b drive into the storm. it's her and jj who console each other as kiara and pope cry with their families. jj has always felt like her little brother, and so iris and jj cry against each other

season one: behind the scenes

season 1 has drew and obx actress!reader living in the same building, next door to each other, for the duration of filming. it’s covid times and so the cast spend a lot of time together, resulting in strong bonds

from the start, it’s clear that she and drew just mesh well together. obx actress!reader and madelyn cline are immediately best friends, and the three of them hang out together everyday. those ig lives are literally just the three of them chit-chatting and talking about everything and nothing, but it’s where fans first start to think drew and obx actress!reader would be cute together

drew constantly features in her instagram stories, and once they can all go out again, all the fan pics posted have the two sat next to each or walking side by side (literally always to be point where it can’t be a coincidence anymore)

the fans don’t appreciate that drew hasn’t reached his peak hotness yet (which is criminal bc he was so hot in season 1), and so a lot of fans ship obx actress!reader with rudy for a while

drew doesn’t want to acknowledge he’s somewhat jealous, but it’s simmering under the surface

the pair don’t share any actual romantic scenes in season 1, but it doesn’t stop them from sharing a tipsy kiss one night at a bar for jd’s birthday. they both really liked it, but pretend that it didn’t happen so as not to ruin their friendship

there’s an absolutely iconic pic of drew and obx actress!reader dressed up for midsummers, posed together like a couple going to prom, and fans still share it at the time of season 4

ya know that short concept film that rudy, drew and elaine did? miss girl obx actress!reader had to do her best not to drool over drew as he filmed that. she helped out with some of the scenes and was barely holding it together at the sight of his biceps

obx actress!reader is 100% the driving force behind the greasy bangs. drew mentions he needs a haircut and so she does it in her apartment bathroom for him, demanding he let her style it too. she had a vision and once she saw it come to life, she sent a pic to the directors and suggested it as rafe’s new look for the second season

drew took obx actress!reader back to his home for the holidays too, not wanting her to be stuck in charleston alone. she spends the time with him and his sisters, hanging out and by the time the pair leave back to resume filming, she has the whole family on instagram and they're all planning to catch up again. his parents love her and invite her to come back with him next time too

the pair go to the gym together too, helping and spotting for each other. obx actress!reader deeply enjoys watching drew get more buff

they do a few interviews together with the rest of the cast after season 1 airs and even there, the cameras pick up on the flirty vibes. soon, their chemistry has fans spiralling and everyone is so eager to see them in season 2

ps. this is the style of photo they post for the bts midsummers photo

[starkeyvhs]

no. 1 party anthem — chapter I

PAIRING: drew starkey x tennis player!reader 

CHAPTER WARNINGS: high school au; banter between drew and reader; one (1) suggestive joke (? if it even counts lol); reader and drew love frank ocean lol; minor swearing

WORD COUNT: 2.4k

EDITH SPEAKS: I hope you all enjoy reading this! let me know any thoughts you may have :) I hope this chapter gives a good insight into what reader and drew’s dynamic is like LOL, anyways all kinds of reblogs and feedbacks are always highly appreciated!

series masterlist / join my taglist 

— APRIL, 2012

The chatter fills the inconveniently tiny dressing room, students in extravagant costumes and extravagant makeup to match their clothes frantically running around, trying to get everything ready at the last minute. Some are mumbling their dialogues over and over under their breath as if it’s some mantra, some are practicing their specific actions for their role, and some are simply chill. 

Like Mr. Joseph. 

Drew sits in front of his vanity flipping through his script casually, as if he really doesn’t have the most important role in the play, the warm glow of the bulbs around the mirror only highlighting his makeup more.

“Romeo!” 

He looks up, his lips morphing into a smile on their own when he sees you. 

You reach up to him and give him a firm slap on his back – something he’s used to, and would never admit to your face that it’s actually hard – a big grin on your face. 

“Here to wish you to break a leg,” you say, resting your arm on his shoulder as you look at him sitting as you stand next to him. 

“Yeah thanks,” he smiles back, keeping his script on the table in front of him. 

“You excited? You’re playing your dream role,” you say back, looking at his reflection in the mirror of him, eyeing his Romeo outfit. 

“Uh huh yes I am,” he says, looking at his reflection too, and once running his hand through his hair to fix it. 

“Bet you’re excited more about kissing Ms. Cindy on the stage,” you tease, flicking his ear. 

His smile falls and his cheeks begin flushing a pink at your words, and what sucks even more is that he can’t even deny it. 

“Shut up,” he mumbles, distracting himself with his script again. 

You laugh, snatching the script from his hand and ignoring his protests by keeping it out of your reach. 

“Oh come on,” you drawl, “I know you are.” You move closer to him, your lips almost brushing his ear as you grin wickedly at his reflection. “You know, even some girls wouldn’t mind getting a taste of her,”

“Yeah okay that’s enough,” he says almost immediately, abruptly standing up from his chair as he clears his throat. 

You can’t control your laughter as Drew begins to make his way towards where all the actors required for the first act are assembling, you right on his heels. 

“Okay leave that,” you say, “but did you even think about how your parents, and all your little siblings are out there, and are going to watch you get a lip action with Ms. Queen Bee?” 

Drew’s walking immediately stops and he turns around to look at you. He can’t get mad at you; ever, actually, but there’s something about that annoying smirk on your smart mouth that’s getting to him. 

You can see he’s getting flustered, so you take the bait, of course. “You didn’t, did you?” And you laugh that same laugh each time you tease him: which is almost every minute of every hour you spend together. 

“Ugh shut up,” he groans, shutting his eyes and tipping his head back. “You know those little nasty buggers won’t ever stop teasing me, ever,” he mumbles under his breath. 

“I know, that’s why I’m going to feed this bit of information that it’s also your first kiss to them,” you grin. 

Drew’s eyes widen, a fair hint of warning in them, but before he can say or do anything, you’re rushing to the exit of the dressing room. 

“Alright that’s it, good luck!” You say out loud, your voice carrying a sing-song tone as you slip out the door. 

Drew takes a moment to regain himself, shaking his head at your antics. He knows you like to mess around a lot, and he also knows about how much you value loyalty in friendships, so even though you said you’ll tell his little siblings about his first kiss being on the final play of his senior year in front of a massive crowd, you actually won’t do it. The thought relieves him immensely, before he redirects his focus back at what he’s actually here for. 

He can hear the chatter of the crowd reducing and slowly reaching a bare minimal level, meaning the play is about to start. 

Their teacher gives them some final instructions, giving them all words of encouragement as her last words, before allowing the first act to begin. 

Drew lets out a deep breath. 

Alright, here goes nothing.

⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹

“There he is! Our superstar!” 

Drew’s family’s cheers only get louder as they watch him come into the crowd from the backstage. All the actors are with their families now, greeting them and receiving gifts and compliments, and Drew definitely isn’t going to get something less. 

He laughs as he joins everyone, his parents being the first ones to hug him. 

“You kissed a girl on stage,” his youngest sister teases, a big grin on her face and his other two siblings giggle with her. He rolls his eyes at them, grumbling a small ‘shut up’ under his breath. 

His eyes find yours, seeing you silently laughing at the entire scene. He shakes his head at you and sticks his tongue out, walking closer to you. 

“Joseph that was great,” you smile, and you give him the bouquet you got for him. 

“You got me flowers?” He grins, taking the bouquet of fresh white lilies and sniffing them. “Why, aren’t you a softie?” 

“Shut up,” you mumble, smacking his arm playfully. He only laughs at you. 

“Well, thank you sweetheart,” he grins, the nickname slipping out with a gentle ease. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, it just always seems so natural the way it rolls off his tongue. 

You only playfully roll your eyes at him, ignoring the gentle tingling feeling in your tummy from how perfect that nickname sounds in his voice. 

After that, he’s quick to be by your side, his arm around your shoulders as you two walk out the theatre. 

“So, you up for a drive?” He asks you, “I talked to mom, she’s okay with it,” 

“Oh yeah,” you say, “sure,” you smile. 

You walk out to the parking lot, where your car is parked. You toss your keys to Drew and he sits in the driver’s seat, you next to him in the passenger’s seat. He drives out of the parking lot of the school, making his way onto the main roads. 

You and Drew like to take drives together often. He takes control of the wheel and just drives around roads, your favourite music playing and you both talking about everything. Or sometimes, instead of talking, you opt to stay quiet, which is needed at its own times.

“So, tell me,” you say, your car’s windows rolled down, allowing fresh air to whip past you two inside. “How was your experience playing Romeo and kissing Cindy on stage,” you grin. Your phone – which is connected to the car’s speakers – plays Blonde, right from the first track. 

Drew groans, his focus on the road in front of him. “You know, you really need to drop that entire Cindy thing. It was just a peck,” he says. 

“Peck? A peck? Mister you were making out! You weren’t starring in some adult version of Romeo and Juliet mind you,” you shoot back, but your grin doesn’t wipe off. 

“Ugh whatever,” he mumbles, his gaze not wavering from the view in front of him. You sigh quietly, relaxing against the seat. 

“No but seriously, Drew,” you begin speaking, your voice taking a softer tone, “you were really good. Like, seriously, you were… amazing. That was really some Broadway level acting right there,” 

Drew remains quiet and you look at him, watching how his lips slowly curve into a small smile. 

“Is that so?” He asks, his own voice slightly soft. 

“Yeah,” you smile, “I was… amazed. You’ve done so many plays for the school and I always tell you how good you’ve been, but this one… you were exceptional,” 

A bashful expression takes over Drew’s face, and you watch how a soft blush sprinkles his cheeks and a gentle smile only widens on his lips. 

“I… I worked hard for this one,” he says, taking a glance at you before focusing back on the road, “like, I really did. We used to have 5 hour rehearsals for days on end and…” he lets out a deep breath, a small silence falling over you two, only Frank’s voice to accompany you, “yeah.” He chuckles softly. “It was draining, but it was fun,” 

“You know what I think?” You begin speaking, and he hums in response. “I think you can make it. Like, to Hollywood, or Broadway, or maybe both. I really think you can,”

Drew lets out a small laugh at your words. “Hollywood? Broadway? I have a one in a million chance to make that, you know,” he chuckles. 

“I know, and I really do think that one chance is all yours,” you speak. Drew can hear the conviction in your words, the way you’re still saying how you believe he can make it even when he made a small joke to lighten the mood. 

Drew catches another glance of you before focusing back on the empty road in front of him. “You really think so?” He mumbles softly. “I can make it? I can be a Hollywood star?” 

There is a hopeful glint to Drew’s voice, as if what you say is what always turns true. 

“Yeah,” you smile softly, “I really think you can. Just think: Joseph Starkey, biggest actor of all time. I can imagine your face plastered on billboards everywhere,” 

He laughs at your words. “Joseph Starkey sounds dorky. I think I’ll let my name be Drew Starkey instead,” 

“Okay okay, Drew Starkey does it too,” you laugh. “But, whatever the name will be, trust me, if you work for it, you’re gonna get it,” 

Drew smiles at you, and you lean back against your seat, looking out as you watch all the houses and trees whip by, Solo playing on the speakers. 

“You know,” he begins speaking after a moment or two of silence, and you turn your head to look at him, “you’re probably the only one who really believes in me that way. I mean, yeah, my family does too but, it’s different with you,” he says softly, “which, is why I want you to be the first person who I tell this to,” 

You furrow your brows at his words and sit up straighter in the seat, looking at him. “Yeah what is it?” You ask. 

“When the play finished and all of us were backstage,” he begins, and you watch him speak from his side, “Ms. Lydia bought this man there. He is the owner of this huge film camp that he organises each year for the summers, and… along with a select few, I was offered to attend this camp,”

Your eyes widen at his words. “What? Oh my god dude that’s insane!” You exclaim. “Tell me you’re going, you have to go!” 

Drew softly laughs at your excitement, catching a glimpse of your elated expression. “Well, missy, it’s not here, it’s in Boston, so that means I’ll be away for the entire summer,” 

For a moment, Drew doesn’t hear anything from your end. He turns to look at you, and when he does, he realises he can’t really pinpoint the expression on your face. Your lips are slightly parted: but besides that, there’s no other emotion present. 

“What?” He chuckles, now looking back at the road. “Don’t go all mute on me, say something,” 

“So that’s… three months in Boston,” you say slowly, almost cautiously, as if you’re testing the words on your tongue. 

“Yeah, three months in Boston,” he repeats. “Oh come on, don’t say you’ll miss me or some shit. Such a sap,” 

“What? No, who said that?” You retort back immediately, and Drew chuckles at your attempt to deflect facing your actual feelings. “It’s that I’m worried, you know?”

“Uh huh, how so if I may ask?” He asks amusedly, shaking his head at your antics. 

“I’m worried ’cause uh… A: you’ll be going so far from home on your own for the very first time,” you begin, “and… and B, you won’t know how to do your… laundry,” you finish lamely. 

“Laundry?” Drew chuckles amusedly. “I know how to use a washing machine, you know? I think me and my laundry will be absolutely fine,” 

“Okay, well that’s… that’s good to know you have all that in check,” you mumble under your breath, turning to look back out the car. You can hear Drew silently laughing to himself at your ‘concerns’ regarding him, and you force yourself to keep on ignoring it. 

“Well,” Drew is the one to break the silence. Your ears perk up at his voice but you don’t turn to look at him. “I’ll miss you, a lot,” He says, and his voice is toned down, and is incredibly tender. 

Drew knows what you’ll do: you’ll take his words and turn them into your advantage, a sinister smile curving your beautiful lips, and you’ll laugh that pretty laugh, and call him a ‘softie’ or a ‘sap’ and tease him endlessly. 

But, you don’t. 

“I’ll miss you too,” are the words which leave your lips instead, and Drew is taken aback. He keeps his emotions in check though, keeping a straight face as he keeps on driving. 

You both fall silent yet again, and all that’s accompanying you this time is Self Control playing. The melancholic rhythm along with its soulful lyrics and Frank’s voice really isn’t doing much to subdue the sudden awkward silence between the two of you. 

“But…” Drew begins to speak, “I still don’t know if I’ll attend it, you know? I mean, I still have to consider it with my parents and… and yeah, all that jazz,” he says with a short chuckle. 

“Uh yeah, yeah yeah that makes sense,” you say, trying to uplift the mood in the car. “But… you should go, it’s a very good opportunity for you,” 

Drew catches a glimpse of you and passes you a small smile, which you return. He focuses back on the road, and you opt to look back out of the car, your head resting back against the seat. 

Usually, he sometimes yearns for this kind of silence with you, because it’s comforting, and even when he knows something’s bothering him, realising you’re by his side automatically makes the problem seem smaller. 

Each other’s presence, the weight of the unsaid words and Frank’s singing is all you have with you, as Drew continues to drive on your usual route. 

⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹

taglist: @oxpogues4lifexo / @inthelibrarybtw / @mileyraes / @totalswag / @chenslucy / @mariamadison6-blog / @snowtargaryen / @htlkira / @wearemadeofstardust0 / @percysley / @acidfeens + let me know if you want to be tagged for the future parts!

tagging a few moots: @runningfrom2am / @zyafics / @ilyrafe / @nemesyaaa / @ladyinbl00d / @jjsbank444 / @b1mb0slvt / @maddsxfall / @congratsloserr / @oceandriveab

[rafesbabygirlx]

6 𝑫𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 🎄

𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝙲𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚗 | 𝙳𝚛𝚎𝚠 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚢

12/20 - 𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 - 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚎. 𝙸𝚗 𝚊 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚜, 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚎 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍.

12/21  𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙷𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚜 - 𝙳𝚛𝚎𝚠 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚢 𝚡 𝙶𝙵!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙳𝚛𝚎𝚠 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚝𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚙𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍. 𝙰𝚖𝚒𝚍 𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜, 𝙳𝚛𝚎𝚠’𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎.

12/22 - 𝚂𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝙸𝚗 - 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙿𝚘𝚐𝚞𝚎 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚂𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚜𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚖, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚗, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚑𝚘𝚠𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚢-𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚌𝚘𝚊 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 "𝚃𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚛 𝙳𝚊𝚛𝚎" 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚒𝚡 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚒𝚌𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙰𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚙 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚗𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐.

12/23 𝙼𝚒𝚍𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝙴𝚟𝚎 - 𝙳𝚊𝚍!𝙳𝚛𝚎𝚠 𝚡 𝚆𝚒𝚏𝚎!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙾𝚗 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝙴𝚟𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚕, 𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚞𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚏𝚝 𝚐𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚘𝚏 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚍𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙳𝚛𝚎𝚠 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖, 𝚊 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜. 𝙵𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚛𝚊𝚙 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚝.

12/24 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝙶𝚊𝚕𝚊 - 𝙳𝚛𝚎𝚠 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚢 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙰𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙷𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚢𝚠𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝙶𝚊𝚕𝚊, 𝙳𝚛𝚎𝚠’𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚢 𝚓𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚎𝚗. 𝙰𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛, 𝙳𝚛𝚎𝚠 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢, 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍, 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚕𝚞𝚡𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖, 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚎, 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚕𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍, 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚗𝚘 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚎.

12/25 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝙳𝚎𝚋𝚝 - 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙶𝙵!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚡 𝙱𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢 

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚘𝚗 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝙴𝚟𝚎, 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝙱𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢’𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚊 𝚍𝚎𝚋𝚝, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚢 𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙱𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚖𝚜 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚞𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚜. 𝚃𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝙱𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎, 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜.

𝙸𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 @rafeyscurtainbangs 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕. 𝚆𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 ♥️♥️♥️

[smokingsoothesthesoul]

# DREW STARKEY — LIVE TALK SHOW

ִֶཐི༏ཋྀ ────୨ৎ──── drew’s first time on a talk show, which just so happens to be jimmy fallon’s and he’s known for scheming. he surprises drew starkey with his celebrity crush. which just so happens to be you.

ִֶཐི༏ཋྀ — pairing: actress!reader x drew starkey !

author’s note: please show some love, also this is my first time posting on here, and i don't know how good my one-shots are. enjoy!

word count : 1.8k

you were known for being one of the most famous actresses sought after. they’d been right for it, your acting was phenomenal. as much fame as you had, you never really let it get to your head, knowing where you had come from was the most important thing to you. 

not only that but you were also known for the activist and humanitarian organizations you’d created or supported alongside other celebrities, like angelina jolie, phoebe tonkin, daniel craig, etc.

so when daniel craig’s managers reached out to you it wasn’t a big surprise, apparently they had been reached out to by a talk show if they could invite you along as well. knowing daniel was more than glad to pass the invitation along, you accepted. 

you wondered why they’d want you there seeing as queer had just premiered, and that had nothing to do with you

—

drew had been nervous, he’d be on a talk show, but nonetheless he was a wreck. it took him forever to decide what he’d be wearing, ultimately deciding on a charcoal grey, and white tux with a black tie. he hoped his outfit would be fine for the show.

as he waited backstage for his introduction he paced around nervous, spinning his gold ring on his finger, an anxious tic he had. 

before he knew it, he heard jimmy fallon, “ladies and gentleman, let’s welcome the man everyone's been talking about, he’s rising to fame, the one and only drew starkey!” he announced as drew walked out and shook hands with the bodyguard on his way to the main set. 

hearing the loud cheers and roars of everyone was amazing and he couldn't help but be shook to his core, never in a hundred years would he have expected this. 

he waved to everyone as he made his way over to jimmy and shook his hand, before he proceeded to sit down in one of the couches.

“so drew we’re glad you accepted our invitation, isn’t that right?” jimmy asked the audience, before they all roared in agreement.

“i’m honored, thank you for inviting me.” drew replied confidently, knowing he was nervous inside.

“so we know you’ve been chasing gold for about four years, and now you’re in a queer relationship with daniel craig, james bond, which has premiered if i’m correct?” jimmy asked, knowing the answer but trying to build up the conversation.

“yes, out in theatres about a week ago.” drew replied. 

“how did that transition work, you know, from filming a show where you don’t really have a romantic relationship until recently to a full blown queer relationship?” jimmy asked curiously.

“honestly, a bit overwhelming and a lot of anxiety from my part. not more so because of the transition but just because i knew i had to ace this role. getting the opportunity to work alongside daniel craig and for luca guadagnino was truly the opportunity of a lifetime. whatever time it was, i knew i had to give it my all. sometimes i doubted my performance but daniel helped me and gave me advice whenever i needed it,” drew replied, while he felt himself relaxing a bit as he got comfortable enough to share personal details.

“there was even a time where,” drew began before lightly biting his lip amused at the story daniel shared with him, before continuing, “daniel told me of an experience he had with another co-star. basically when you first film scenes and most of all when they’re scenes like we were filming, the first day on set really is just practice. not reading lines, but actually practicing how certain scenes will go. in our case mature scenes were what we focused on at the beginning seeing as we’d be testing out our chemistry.”

“anywho the point is that once we were literally in the middle of a bed scene, nothing too explicit, and daniel chuckled when i fucked up a line because instead of saying ‘we can’t be doing this’ i said ‘we shan’t be doing this.’ he literally rolled out of bed and said he had to take a breather, i was confused, i mean we fuck up lines sometimes but never enough to call break,” drew explained.

“yeah normally that doesn’t happen, i would’ve been nervous,” jimmy commented.

drew laughed and nodded his head, before continuing, “i was dying of anxiety in the inside, i was like did i fuck up this badly. and i guess daniel could see it written on my face, which is when he walked over and explained how in his last role the same thing had happened with his co-star. and i couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief and literally said, ‘thank fuck’ to which he laughed at as he walked away to get a water.”

jimmy let out a chuckle at the ending of his story, and said, “oh my god i would’ve died of laughter too.” 

drew nodded as he swiped his backhand on his nose, a reflex of his, before replying “yeah i definitely would’ve too but honestly i was too nervous at the time, now i think back on it and laugh about it.”

“actually there was something i was looking forward to, with you here, let’s show this clip,” jimmy said motioning towards the tv for the audience.

before they knew it, drew was being interviewed by a reporter who asked who his celebrity crush was, ‘y/n y/ln’ he answered without falter.

as the video ended drew couldn’t help but let out a chuckle and turned to jimmy while he began, “is that still true?” 

drew knew the answer to that, and nodded, “yeah it is,” he replied confidently.

“we have a surprise for you if you look at the monitor,” jimmy said before motioning towards the tv.

if the world could swallow drew up whole, he’d let it. at that moment. because then and there on the tv, where times he’d stated his celebrity crush was y/n to interviewers and it was playing in chronological order.

as the video ended jimmy looked at him and playfully asked, “anything to comment?” 

drew couldn’t help but cover his mouth with one hand before sliding it down to reply, “genuinely that’d be mine if i could somehow reach her.”

“well who knows maybe one day you will,” jimmy commented supportively.

“unless i get the courage to actually dm her, it’ll be a pending matter,” drew replied.

“why the need for a dm? i’m right here,” you said after making your way quietly behind him signaling the audience to not spoil it.

at that moment, drew froze up, and instantly rose up from his seat but slowly turned around, not knowing if it was real.

as he slowly turned, you waved at him and slightly giggled at his nervous reaction. you waited for him to say something before you said anything else.

as you stood there waiting, drew finally caught a grip and let his charm play out even if he was a train wreck inside. 

“i’m drew starkey,” he introduced, stammering quite a bit. 

“i know,” you replied smiling.

hearing that drew’s brows rose in confusion, he didn’t expect that. he was a nobody and you were everything.

“i was invited to your premiere but i ended up in the er or else i would’ve been there, apologies,” you said, genuinely honest.

drew was lost for words, yet jimmy asked him, “drew you still there or are you too starstruck?” 

“mhm,” drew nodded, not necessarily indicating which one but they could all guess.

he couldn’t get over the fact you’d just apologized for not attending his premiere, gosh he was literally about to faint before he talked to himself in his head ‘get your shit together before you scare her’ which he proceeded to do, and extended his hand for her to shake.

“none of that, my mama taught me better than that” you replied before walking closer to him and pulling him into a hug.

drew couldn’t believe this was happening but reacted fast enough to not make it seem awkward for the audience, at least that's what he hoped and reciprocated the hug. wrapping his hands around your body.

as they pulled apart, you walked up to jimmy and shook his hand seeing as there was a literal desk between you both and greeted him. 

“jimmy it’s been a while,” you commented.

“glad to have you back on here,” jimmy replied genuinely.

“now that we’re dealing with a starstruck man, we actually have a few live questions, if you don’t mind answering them?” jimmy asked.

“of course, ask away,” she replied amused, wanting to know what was being asked.

jimmy read from his phone, “how does it feel to be drew starkey’s celebrity crush?”

“well honestly, and i quote, from the man himself, ‘i’m honored,’” you replied knowing drew was known for his replies of being honored.

next to you drew couldn’t help but smile amused knowing he said that quite a lot, he hadn’t been lying he really was honored. but to hear that you were honored he thought of you a certain way, well that was the most fucking honored he’d be in his life. before, now, or after.

“what do you think of drew starkey and his roles?” jimmy asked, reading off the second question being asked by the audience.

“well honestly, i’m definitely an outer banks fan. i’m glad he’s finally getting the recognition he deserved, i’ve been there since season one, people now are barely catching on,” you started.

as you replied, drew couldn’t help but feel touched at what you were saying. he really had just risen to fame this past year, with the new season of outer banks even though he’d been there since day one of the show.

“i’ll admit this new season and the past one that came out, i couldn’t help but feel a tad bit jealous that our local psycho was tied up and locked in with someone,” you admitted lightly, chuckling amused.

“for me this is a situation where i love the actor but hate the character unfortunately, because rafe deserved better, in this season four that came out. sofia betrayed him and genuinely frustrated me,” you explained.

drew couldn’t help but feel touched at how you were talking about his character, because it was something he’d poured his heart into. 

“one last question for both of you before we go,” jimmy asked before a drum roll sound came on to build anticipation.

“have we created a successful cupid match?” jimmy asked, to which the audience cheered curious, as well.

at that moment both drew and you gazed into each other's eyes, “only time will tell,” you answered truthfully, ‘but maybe we’ll get there’ you tried to communicate that through your gaze with drew. 

the cameras cut and now there was a rising to fame actor, holding out his hand for a famous actress to take. 

and that she did.

[rafecameronssl4t]

Trust who? || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader love island au

A/n: during this I was thinking of that one kordell and Serena edit with this song and the beat drop is literally when reader sees the clip of Rafe and the casa amor girl during movie night!!!!!!!! ALSO im so sorry for this to take so long to be posted :/

Warnings: just angst

Word count: 2,937

MASTERLIST (love island au masterlist)

The night was heavy with unspoken tension. Movie night, usually a time for lighthearted fun or harmless drama, was anticipated by everyone in the villa. You sat stiffly on one of the large outdoor sofas, flanked by a couple of the girls who were clearly trying to be there for you. The two Casa Amor girls were off to the side, Nakia sitting beside the other girl, her eyes flickering to Rafe every so often, like a lioness watching her prey.

Across on the other lounge were where the boys were sitting. Rafe's face was unreadable—stoic, like a statue—but he hadn't glanced your way yet. The screen flickered to life, and the names of the clips appeared in bold text, each one more unsettling than the last: Temptations and Betrayals, Crying Angel, and The Dark Nakia Rises were only some of them.

“Oh, this is going to be amazing,” you said, your voice heavy with sarcasm, though a hint of venom lingered beneath the surface. The girls around you laughed nervously, their giggles thin and hollow against the weight of the moment. No amount of levity could mask the tension that thickened the air. Nakia shifted in her seat, throwing you a smirk before turning her attention to the screen.

“I’ll pick Crying Angel,” she said, her tone deliberate, as if the title alone wasn’t designed to cut you open. The video played, and there you were, seated in the glam room, your face buried in your hands. The sound of your muffled sobs filled the air, and your voice, shaky and broken, cut through the villa like a blade. “I don’t want to be here anymore,” you admitted through your tears.

“I thought he cared about me. I really did.” One of the girls wrapped an arm around you in the clip, murmuring softly, “You’re stronger than this. Don’t let him break you.” But you shook your head, your anguish palpable. “I stayed loyal to him. I could’ve coupled up. But no, I waited for him because I thought we had something real. And then he walks in with her like I never even mattered. I’m done! I’m so done.”

As the screen went dark, the silence that followed was deafening. The air felt too thick to breathe. A few gasps rippled through the group, and some of the boys shifted uncomfortably in their seats, casting sideways glances at each other before stealing sympathetic looks your way. You sat still, your face a perfect mask of indifference.

Not a single muscle twitched as you kept your gaze fixed ahead, refusing to let them see how deeply those moments of vulnerability still stung. Across the firepit, Rafe was motionless, his jaw clenched so tightly that you could see the tension rippling through his neck. His blue eyes were glued to the now-black screen, his face unreadable but undeniably stricken.

~

When Sofia’s turn came, a flicker of mischief danced in her eyes. She leaned forward, her lips curving into a smirk, and you caught her gaze, exchanging a conspiratorial glance. You straightened slightly, the faintest hint of a smirk playing at your own lips as you braced yourself for what was coming next. “I’ll pick The Dark Nakia Rises,” Sofia said, her voice light with faux innocence.

The group erupted into a mix of cheers and nervous laughter, all eyes shifting to Nakia, whose face had drained of colour. You broke the tension with an almost unnervingly calm tone, delivering your jab with a straight face. “Oh, Nakia. I bet you’re absolutely shitting yourself, babe.” Nakia forced a laugh, her discomfort palpable. “I’m not,” she said weakly, glancing toward Rafe for reassurance.

But he didn’t meet her gaze. His eyes were locked on the firepit, his face a storm of emotions he was trying—and failing—to suppress. The clip began. The sound of the kitchen in Casa Amor filled the room, and Nakia was standing with a few of the other girls. Their voices could be heard in the background as they gossiped, oblivious to the camera that had captured their every word.

"So what do you think of him?" One of them questions Nakia as she smiles, looking over her shoulder to where Rafe was working out. “I mean, I’ve heard about his dad,” she said with a casual shrug, her tone dripping with entitlement. “And I know they’ve got money. Like, serious money.” She leaned back, twirling a strand of hair around her finger, clearly basking in the attention.

“He’s not exactly ugly either, is he? Could be a good setup if I play my cards right.” The other girls laughed, egging her on. “Yeah, but do you even like him?” one of them asked, her tone teasing. “Like him?” she repeated, laughing. “I mean, he’s alright. But come on, this isn’t about feelings. This is about strategy. And if he’s dumb enough to fall for it, that’s on him.” The clip ended, leaving the villa in stunned silence.

The clip ended, and the silence that followed was deafening. No one spoke at first. Your heart sank as you glanced from Rafe, his face pale, his jaw clenched in fury, to Nakia, whose confident smirk had vanished completely. Her face was a mask of panic, eyes darting around as the weight of her words settled over everyone.

You could barely breathe as you stared at her. “Holy fucking shit, dude,” one of the boys muttered, breaking the silence as he turned to Rafe, who hadn’t moved an inch. He was staring at the ground, seething, his fists clenched at his sides. “Nakia, what the actual fuck?” another girl asked, her voice filled with disgust as she turned to face her. The room was heavy with the collective judgment.

Everyone was watching her now, and Nakia could do nothing but stammer, her voice high-pitched and defensive. Your words hit harder than you expected, and Nakia shrank back, her face flushing with embarrassment. “That is so fucked up,” one of the guys added, his tone harsh as he shook his head in disbelief.

Nakia opened her mouth to respond, but her words faltered. She looked on the verge of tears, her confidence completely shattered. The air was thick with tension, and everyone could feel it—Rafe’s rage, your frustration, Nakia’s panic. “You’re really going to sit there like that?” you finally said, your voice steady, but there was a bitter edge to it. “Like you didn’t hear her?”

Rafe’s head snapped up, his expression unreadable. But you could see the storm brewing in his eyes. “Don’t start with me, Y/n,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. You raised an eyebrow, unfazed by his warning. “Oh, I’m sorry. Am I not allowed to call out the fact that this whole thing is a fucking joke to you?” Your voice was sharp, cutting through the stunned silence of the villa.

You gestured towards Nakia without sparing her a glance. “That I’ve been here crying my eyes out, while you’re over there being a pawn in her game?” Nakia stiffened, her face pale. “That was taken out of context!” she stammered, her voice high-pitched and defensive. “I was just joking—” “Oh, you were joking?” you snapped, cutting her off, your voice rising with every word.

“You thought it was funny to admit you’re using him? That his feelings don’t matter to you as long as you get what you want?” You shook your head, your voice dripping with disdain. “That’s not just a joke, Nakia. That’s manipulation. Plain and simple." “That is so fucked up,” one of the guys muttered, breaking the tense silence.

Nakia’s gaze darted around the group, her eyes glassy as though she was on the verge of tears. You let out a dry, bitter laugh and leaned back on the couch, Sofia's hand finding yours. “I just can’t believe I was crying my heart out over this shit,” you muttered, your voice shaky. You leaned back against the cushions, exhaling deeply to steady yourself.

~

“Alright, my turn. Let’s go with Betrayals and Temptations,” One of the boys announced, his tone a mix of excitement and dread. “Of-fucking-course,” you muttered under your breath, rolling your eyes. You already knew what this clip would show. The title was self-explanatory, and the dread in your stomach only grew as the screen lit up.

The scene began with Rafe and Nakia in the Casa Amor pool. Nakia sat perched on the edge, her legs skimming the surface, her posture relaxed and confident. Rafe stood in the water, gazing up at her like she was the only person in the world. “So, would you say you’re closed off, or…?” Nakia asked, her voice playful as she tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with mischief

Rafe shook his head, a chuckle escaping his lips. “No—no. That would be stupid of me to do that to myself,” he replied casually, his eyes locked on her. “Really? So, am I your type?” she questioned, a coy smile playing on her lips. “Hundred percent, babe. Hundred percent,” Rafe said with a laugh, his hands resting on her knees as he grinned up at her.

The tension between them was palpable as they stared at each other, the moment thick with anticipation. Nakia leaned forward, closing the gap between them, and kissed him. “I can’t get out,” Rafe whispered against her lips, his tone teasing but laced with something deeper.

“Why?” Nakia breathed, her brows knitting together in faux confusion. Rafe chuckled, glancing downward, murmuring something too low for the clip to catch. Nakia’s eyes widened before she burst into laughter, her head falling back. “No fucking way,” she giggled, clearly pleased with herself, as Rafe pulled her closer.

The screen went dark, the villa erupted in hushed murmurs and gasps, but the damage was already done. Your vision blurred as tears welled up, spilling over despite your desperate attempt to keep them in check. Your head spun, the voices around you muffled and distant. “Fuck this,” you muttered, your voice thick with emotion as you shot to your feet and stormed off, your sobs breaking the suffocating silence.

Sofia hurried after you, her heels clicking against the wooden planks as she tried to keep pace. Meanwhile, Rafe sat frozen, his face buried in his hands as he let out a loud, frustrated exhale. “Mate, what the hell were you thinking?” one of the boys hissed at Rafe, his tone laced with disappointment. Rafe didn’t answer immediately.

He sat motionless, his face buried in his hands, his breaths uneven. Finally, he stood abruptly, his chair tipping slightly behind him. “Fuck, I need to talk to her. Right now,” he muttered, his voice thick with frustration and guilt. As he made his way upstairs, the sound of your muffled sobs grew louder, each one hitting him like a blow to the chest.

He hesitated outside the glam room, his hand hovering over the door. Finally, he knocked, his voice tentative. “Y/n, can we talk?” There was a pause, and then the door creaked open to reveal Sofia. Her expression was a mix of anger and disdain as she stepped into the doorway, her voice icy. “She doesn’t need to hear your excuses right now.” She brushed past him, leaving the hallway in silence.

Rafe swallowed hard and stepped inside. You stood near the vanity, your back to him, shoulders trembling. When you finally turned, your tear-streaked face was a mix of heartbreak and fury, your mascara smeared like dark shadows under your reddened eyes. “What can you possibly say to me to make this better?” you demanded, your voice bitter and raw.

You glared at him, your anger barely concealing the hurt threatening to consume you. Rafe faltered, his mouth opening as if to speak, but no words came out. He raked a hand through his hair, his usual confidence replaced with visible unease. “I—” “You what?” you snapped, cutting him off. “You didn’t mean it? You were caught up in the moment? Save it, Rafe. I’ve heard enough lies for one night.”

“I wasn’t thinking,” he finally said, his voice quiet but filled with desperation. “It didn’t mean anything, Y/n. None of it did.” You let out a sharp, humorless laugh, shaking your head. “It didn’t mean anything? You kissed her, Rafe. You flirted with her. You made me look like a fucking idiot in front of everyone.” “I fucked up,” he admitted, his tone softening as he took a step closer.

“I know I did. But I never stopped thinking about you. You’re the one I—” “Don’t,” you interrupted, your voice cracking. “Don’t you dare try to spin this like you cared. If you cared, you wouldn’t have done this. If you cared, you wouldn’t have disrespected me while you had your fun.” The room fell silent except for the sound of your laboured breathing.

Rafe looked at you, his expression filled with regret, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. “I think you should leave,” you whispered, turning away from him. Your shoulders sagged, the weight of everything crushing you. Rafe hesitated, his hand twitching as if he wanted to reach out to you, but he didn’t.

Finally, he stepped back toward the door, his voice barely audible. “I’m sorry.” The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you alone with the shattered pieces of what once was.

[donttxtathebeach]

Y/N Williams’ No-Makeup look| Vogue Beauty Secrets

words: 1.6k

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masterlist

The camera fades in to reveal a serene, sunlit room. The soft glow of candles flickers against the neutral-toned walls, which are adorned with tasteful beach-inspired decor—lush plants in woven baskets, a few minimalist artworks, and delicate seashell accents. A gentle breeze wafts through the open windows, carrying the scent of the ocean. The sounds of distant waves crash softly, adding to the calm ambiance.

Y/N is standing in her master bathroom with a sweater over her dress in order to make sure nothing comes in contact with it. . Her skin glows with a fresh-from-the-beach radiance, and her hair is naturally tousled as if the breeze had just kissed it. The room feels peaceful and bright, reflecting her coastal, laid-back lifestyle.

She smiles warmly at the camera, looking directly into it as if inviting you into her world.

“Hey, everyone! Welcome back to Vogue Beauty Secrets. It’s Y/N here, and tonight I am out at my Charleston home with a close friend. We’re keeping it low-key, cooking dinner, and enjoying each other’s company. So if you happen to hear him in the background, just ignore him. Nothing too special... but I thought I’d share my skincare and no makeup, makeup routine with you tonight. I usually like to go for something super natural and fresh.” She smiles, her tone warm and relaxed. “Let’s start with skincare because everything begins with good skin, right?”

Step 1: Cleaning

Y/N reaches for Renée Rouleau AHA/BHA Blemish Control Cleanser, a gentle yet effective cleanser that’s a staple in her routine. She dispenses a generous amount into her hands and lathers it up.

“So, first, I always start with cleansing. I’ve been using this Renée Rouleau AHA/BHA Blemish Control Cleanser for a while now, and it’s just perfect for me. It’s super creamy, and it doesn’t strip my skin, so it feels hydrated after I wash it off. It’s gentle enough for everyday use, and I love how soft it makes my skin feel.”

She massages the product into her skin in soft, circular motions, her fingers gliding over her face easily.

“The texture is so creamy and luxurious, and it helps to remove dirt, sunscreen, and any makeup leftover from the day. The key for me is always to feel like my skin is clean but not tight or dry. That’s why I love this one.”

After she rinses, she gently pats her face dry with a soft towel, taking a deep breath as if enjoying the calm moment.

Step 2: Toning

Next, Y/N grabs Fresh Rose Deep Hydration Facial Toner. She pours a little onto a cotton pad and sweeps it gently across her face.

“This toner is my absolute go-to. It’s hydrating and calming, which is perfect for me because my skin tends to get a little dry. I love how it really preps my skin for the next steps—leaving it feeling soft, fresh, and ready to soak up whatever comes next.”

She swipes the cotton pad across her forehead, cheeks, and neck, letting it absorb naturally.

Step 3: Serum

After the toner, Y/N reaches for her Caudalie Vinosource S.O.S. Thirst Quenching Serum, applying a few drops into her palm before pressing it into her face.

“Now for serum. I’ve been using this Caudalie serum for a while, and it’s so great at adding that extra layer of hydration. I tend to get dry patches, especially around my nose and chin, so this is a lifesaver. It absorbs quickly, and I love how it leaves my skin feeling smooth and plump. Plus, it’s got this nice calming effect, which is key for me.”

She presses the serum into her skin, working it in slowly as she looks in the mirror.

Step 4: Eye Cream

Y/N then picks up Dr. Dennis Gross C+ Collagen Brighten & Firm Vitamin C Eye Cream, applying a small amount underneath her eyes.

“Eye cream is something I never skip. I tend to get dark circles from long days or jet lag, so I love this one. It’s brightening and firming, which helps with puffiness and dark circles. It’s lightweight, so it doesn’t feel heavy under makeup either.”

She gently taps the eye cream into her skin using her ring finger, pressing it delicately into the delicate under-eye area.

Step 5: Moisturizer

Next, she grabs Dr. Jart+ Ceramidin Cream and massages it into her skin.

“I’ve been using this moisturizer for a few months now, and I really love it. It’s rich, but it sinks in quickly and gives my skin that smooth, plump feeling without being greasy. It’s the perfect base before makeup. And since I’m going for a natural glow tonight, this one is perfect.”

She massages the product into her face, making sure to get her neck as well, working it in gently with upward strokes.

Step 6: Sunscreen

Even though she’s staying indoors, Y/N applies Supergoop! Unseen sunscreen SPF 40.

“SPF is a must for me, no matter what. But I’m not modeling. I’m home and in the sun a lot, so skin protection really no matter where you are is something that means a lot to me, even with how nicely my skin tans. I just don’t want to have any risks. This one from Supergoop is so lightweight and doesn’t leave any white cast. It gives my skin the protection it needs without weighing it down, and it’s so smooth under makeup. You really can’t skip this step.”

She massages the sunscreen into her face, giving her skin a final layer of protection for the night.

Step 7: Lip Balm

Finally, Y/N applies a light layer of Laneige Lip Sleeping Mask to her lips.

“I can’t go without this lip balm. It’s so hydrating, and it keeps my lips feeling soft all night. Plus, it has this really calming, fresh scent that I love.”

She gently presses the balm into her lips, making sure they’re moisturized and plump.

Y/N takes a moment to admire her fresh, dewy complexion, smiling softly as she looks at herself in the mirror.

“Okay, that’s my skincare done! My skin feels so refreshed and hydrated, which is the perfect base for a simple, fresh makeup look.”

Makeup Routine

Now, she reaches for her makeup products and begins with Saie Slip Tint, a favorite of hers for its lightweight, natural coverage.

“Alright, let’s move on to makeup. For the no-makeup look, I’m all about using minimal products that enhance my natural skin. This skin tint is perfect—it’s super light, has SPF built in, and gives just enough coverage to even out my complexion.”

She dispenses a small amount onto her fingers and applies it gently across her face, blending it in with light taps of her fingertips.

“I don’t want to cover everything—I just want to perfect my skin and keep it looking fresh and natural.” “My skin is actually super sensitive, and I have found whenever I had shoots, they would put foundation on my skin. I would break out really heavily, and so I like stuff that’s lighter on my face just because I try to go for a more natural look all the time, and I’m not always wearing make-up."

Step 1: Concealer

Next, she grabs Glossier Stretch Concealer and applies it to areas she wants to brighten: under her eyes, around her nose, and any spots or redness.

“A little concealer under the eyes always makes me feel more awake. This one is great because it’s creamy but doesn’t feel heavy. It blends beautifully and covers just enough to give me a fresh look.”

She blends the product in with her fingers, focusing on areas that need a little more attention.

Step 2: Bronzer

Y/N picks up Dolce Glow Contour Self-Tanning Sculpt and applies it to her cheeks, jawline, and forehead.

“For a natural look, I love using this contour stick. It’s really easy to blend and gives me just enough warmth to define my face. It’s subtle, but it really adds a nice, natural-looking contour but while also enhancing my tan.”

She blends it in with her fingers, making sure the contour looks soft and seamless.

Step 3: Blush

She then grabs MERIT Flush Balm Cream Blush in “apres” and applies it to the apples of her cheeks, tapping it in gently.

“Blush is essential for that ‘I’ve been in the sun’ look. This shade is perfect—it adds a soft flush of color with a bit of shimmer, so it looks like you’re glowing from within.” "I don’t know how popular this is, but during the summer I actually don’t use blush, I just use cherries. Whenever I was growing up and we were in Greece, my mom would always have cherries on hand, and she was like, These are great for blush, and me being me. I wanted to do whatever my mom was doing, so that’s like a staple I use during the summer."

She smiles, adding just a hint more to get that perfect, radiant flush.

Step 4: Brows

For her brows, she grabs a spooly and runs it through her brows to define and shape them.

“Brows are really important for a natural look. And because of my mom’s genes, I have a lot of eyebrows, so I just brush them and not really do anything to them. I just shaped them with this call it a day."

Step 6: Eyes & Lips

Y/N finishes off with a sweep of YVES SAINT LAURENT Lash Clash Extreme Volume Mascara and Kylie Cosmetics lip liner in "cinnamon" and Clinique almost lipstick in “black honey,” giving her lashes a natural lift and her lips a glossy, plump finish.

“A little mascara and lip liner, and we’re done! The mascara is just to lift my lashes and open up my eyes, and the liner and almost lipstick give my lips that soft, shiny look that I love.”

Final Look

She smiles at her reflection, clearly happy with the natural, radiant look. “And that’s it! Simple, fresh, and effortless—just the way I like it.”

Y/N grabs her phone as it buzzes, smiling softly as she looks down. “Someone over their is a little impatient. so I’m going to get cooking!” She stands, carefully taking off her sweater.

“Thanks for hanging out with me tonight, guys. I hope you found some inspiration in this simple, natural routine. Remember—skincare is key, and feeling comfortable in your own skin is the most important part of beauty.”

“See you next time.”

The screen fades to black, leaving the peaceful vibe lingering in the air.

[rafecamerons-national-anthem]

I’LL MAKE YOU MISS ME-DREW STARKEY

You never thought it would end like this. Not when it felt like you had everything, everything with Drew. The late night talks, the stolen glances when no one was watching, the quiet moments that felt louder than any words could. You had convinced yourself that love would keep you tethered to him, but now, as you stood at the edge of everything you knew, you realized just how much you had underestimated the distance between you and him.

Drew Starkey had always been a force. There was something magnetic about him, something that drew people in, especially you. From the first moment you met, you both knew there was an undeniable connection. He had that quiet confidence, that wild energy you couldn’t resist. He was the kind of guy who made you feel like the only person in the room, even when he was surrounded by a crowd.

But somewhere along the way, you lost sight of the spark that kept things alive. Somewhere, between all the good moments, there was a growing silence. Words unspoken. You both tried to pretend everything was fine, but you knew it wasn’t.

Now, as you stood in front of Drew’s house, about to walk away for good, you could feel the weight of everything crashing down on you. He was inside, and you knew he was thinking about you, wondering what you were doing. You could almost hear him saying your name, that familiar way he always did, soft but powerful, as if he was trying to make you believe in the moment just as much as he did.

But it was too late for that. Too late to go back to the way things were.

“I’ll make you miss me,” you whispered to yourself, your hand gripping the strap of your bag tightly as you took one last look at the place that had once felt like home.

It had been weeks since you and Drew had last spoken. The distance between you both had grown, but it didn’t matter. You had made the decision to leave. You had made the decision to let him go, even if it meant you’d never stop loving him.

The night you left, you tried to convince yourself it was for the best. You told yourself you didn’t need him, that you’d be fine on your own. But the truth was, it wasn’t just about needing him. You wanted him. You wanted the way he looked at you, the way he made you feel like the world could fall apart and he would still hold you together. But somehow, it all got lost. The chemistry, the magic, everything faded as you both walked farther apart.

And Drew? He thought he was fine. He had this way of pretending like nothing bothered him. He was the one who moved on, or so you told yourself. He was the one who acted like nothing was wrong. He had his friends, his life. He’d find someone else, someone who would fit into his world better than you ever could. At least, that’s what you told yourself to make it easier to walk away.

“You’ve always been so good at this,” Drew said, his voice cutting through the silence of your memory.

You blinked, coming back to the present. It was late, and you were sitting on the porch of his house, just a few feet from the door where you had once walked in and out of so easily.

You hadn’t expected him to show up. Not like this, not after everything. But Drew had a way of being where he needed to be. He always did.

You stood up, trying to keep your composure, but your heart was racing. You hadn’t seen him in so long, and yet, here he was, standing right in front of you, that same look in his eyes. The one that always made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered in the room.

“You’re here,” you said, barely a whisper, unsure if you should say anything more.

“I’m always here, aren’t I?” Drew replied, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. But it wasn’t the same. The playfulness was gone, replaced with something raw, something vulnerable. “I should’ve been there, Y/N. I should’ve fixed this. I should’ve known.”

“You never saw it coming, did you?” you asked, your voice thick with the weight of all the things you couldn’t say before. “I don’t want you to be proud of me, Drew. I just want you all on me, like it used to be. That’s how it used to be, right?”

Drew didn’t answer immediately. He just looked at you, like he was trying to figure out the puzzle in front of him. He had always been good at reading people, but you knew you were a puzzle even he couldn’t solve.

“You think I don’t miss you?” Drew’s voice was quiet now, tinged with regret. “I think about you all the time, Y/N. Every fucking day. You think I don’t feel this? The ache? I tried to act like I was fine. I did. But the truth is…I’m not. I’m not fine without you.”

You turned away from him, taking a step back. His words were breaking you down, and you couldn’t let that happen. You couldn’t let him see how much his confession had affected you. You had to stand strong.

“You’re fine,” you muttered, trying to convince yourself as much as him. “You’ve always been fine. You’ve got your friends, your life. You’ll be fine without me.”

“Stop lying to yourself, Y/N,” Drew said sharply, his voice tinged with frustration. “We both know that’s not true.”

You swallowed, taking a shaky breath, your eyes flicking up to meet his. There was a glimmer of something in his gaze, something familiar, something you had missed so much.

“I don’t want you proud of me,” you repeated, this time more forcefully. “I don’t need that. I just want you…all on me. Like it used to be. But you’ve moved on. You’re not the same anymore.”

Drew closed the distance between you, his hand reaching out to touch yours, the contact burning through your skin. You could feel his heart beating in the palm of your hand, and for a moment, you wondered if this was it. The moment everything would change again. The moment you’d finally break free of this cycle.

“I haven’t moved on, Y/N,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t know how to let you go. Not like this. Not like we’re nothing.”

The words were heavy, suffocating in their truth. And in that moment, you realized that neither of you were ready to let go. You couldn’t forget what you had, what you were to each other. You couldn’t pretend that everything was fine when it wasn’t.

“I’ll make you miss me,” you whispered, the words tumbling from your lips like a promise, a declaration, and a curse all in one. “For the rest of your life, Drew. For the rest of mine.”

Drew didn’t reply, but his eyes softened, and for the briefest moment, you both understood. You understood what you meant to each other, what you always would be. The love, the pain, the loss, it would always be there, lingering in the spaces between you, no matter how much time passed.

And as you stood there, hand in hand, staring at the world around you, you knew one thing for sure.

He would always miss you. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥 @nicholaschavezslut69

[lizziesangel]

RAFE CAMERON - not so cocky

F1!driver!rafe cameron x FEM!reader - MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: based on this request

WORD COUNT: +4.9k

GENRE: fluff

CONTENT WARNING: i couldn't help myself and made him drive for ferrari since thats the team i support :P

it’s a tuesday afternoon, and you’re in your pajamas—baggy sweats and an oversized t-shirt you probably shouldn’t still own. you’re curled up on your couch, a blanket cocooned around you as some random show plays in the background. the ice cream in your lap is half-melted, but you don’t care.

then the knock comes. a sharp sound that instantly makes you groan.

you don’t move at first, hoping whoever it is will just go away, but then your phone buzzes: “we know you’re home. open the door.”

you shuffle to the door and open it, blinking into the daylight like a mole emerging from its hole. standing there, arms crossed and looking unimpressed, are your two best friends.

“it’s literally two p.m.,” abby says, squinting past you into your dimly lit apartment.

“yeah? so?” you reply, scratching your head. “it’s only two p.m.”

“on a tuesday.”

you shrug. “time’s a social construct.”

they both push past you into the apartment, already on a mission. jen opens the blinds, flooding your space with light, while abby heads straight to the kitchen. “when’s the last time you ate something that wasn’t ice cream?”

“last night?” you lie.

“we’re ordering pizza,” jen announces. “and don’t even think about arguing.”

you don’t argue. honestly, it’s kind of nice having them here. soon enough, the pizza arrives, and the smell of melted cheese and pepperoni fills your apartment. they bring out sodas, too, and one of them starts rifling through your collection of formula one merch—t-shirts, mugs, even the throw pillow you bought on a whim last year.

“okay, since you’re clearly still in your pity era,” abby says, rolling her eyes dramatically

“never say that again,” jen gapes at her.

abby rolled her eyes at her, “anyway, we’re doing a mid-week f1 sleepover. you’re not getting rid of us.”

you don’t even try to fight it. this has become a weekly-ish ritual at this point—your friends invading your space, throwing on a highlight reel from last weekend’s race, and forcing you to laugh at their awful commentary. by the time the sun sets, the couch is littered with pizza crusts and soda cans, and for the first time in days, you feel something close to normal.

the three of you are sprawled across your living room, pizza boxes open on the coffee table, the tv blaring the sound of engines as the formula one race unfolds. abby is clutching a throw pillow like it’s a steering wheel, yelling at the screen.

“i’m telling you, charles is going to take it this time!” abby declares, pointing wildly at the screen as charles leclerc manoeuvres through the track.

“please,” jen scoffs, leaning back with a slice of pizza. “verstappen has this in the bag, like always. he’s unstoppable.”

“unstoppable until he gets cocky and screws up his pit stop,” abby fires back.

you chuckle, keeping your eyes on the screen. “you two have had this exact argument every single week. neither of you is changing your mind.”

“because she’s wrong,” jen says, pointing at abby with a pizza piece.

“and she’s delusional,” abby fires back, throwing a pillow.

“oh my gosh, both of you, can we just watch without fighting?” you groan, though there’s a faint smile tugging at your lips. this bickering is as much a part of your race nights as the pizza.

jen smirks, not missing a beat. “oh, and you’re one to talk? we all know you’re obsessed with rafe cameron.”

you nearly choke on your drink. “i am not.”

“you literally blush every time his name comes up,” abby teases, nudging your shoulder.

“do not,” you mutter, sinking lower into the couch.

jen sits up suddenly, her face lighting up with an idea. “wait, speaking of him—did you guys hear about that competition? the one where you can win a seat next to him for a day? he drives you around in his race car, and it’s for charity or something.”

“stop.” you wave her off, your voice flat. “just stop.”

“no, seriously!” jen presses, pulling her phone out to look it up. “it’s legit. they posted it on the f1 page. all you have to do is enter, and they pick a winner. imagine sitting next to rafe cameron while he drives at, like, two hundred miles an hour!”

“jennifer, no,” you say, glaring at her. “that’s insane. why would anyone want to do that?”

“why wouldn’t you?” abby jumps in, grinning. “you get to sit in a race car, with rafe cameron. i mean, if i could, i’d already be entering.”

“don’t lie, you’d only go if it was charles doing it,” jen shook her head.

“you guys are ridiculous,” you mutter, shaking your head. “as if we’d actually made a chance.”

“besides” she says innocently. “i’m just saying. you love formula one, and you obviously love rafe. i’ve seen the way you look at the screen when he’s on.”

you groan, tossing a pillow in her direction. “shut up.”

“yeah,” abby chimes in, smirking. “all heart-eyes and ‘oh, rafe is such a good driver.’”

you scoff, though your face is heating up. “i don’t sound like that.”

“you do,” they say in unison, and you hate how much they’re enjoying this.

it’s friday morning when jen and abby show up at your door, both of them practically vibrating with excitement.

“open up!” jen yells, banging on the door.

you groan, dragging yourself out of bed and to the door, still in your pajamas. when you open it, jen is already halfway inside, holding up a bright pink duffel bag. abby’s standing behind her, an equally mischievous grin on her face.

“get dressed,” jen says, brushing past you into your living room. her dark curls are pulled back into a curly bun, and she’s rocking a pastel tracksuit that looks effortless on her. “we’re going out.”

“and not to the grocery store,” abby adds, following closely behind. her straight, glossy black hair is tied in a high ponytail. “but, maybe we should, just in case.”

“what is going on?” you mumble, yawning.

“spa day!” jen announces, setting the duffel down on your couch. “and before you say anything, no, you don’t get a choice.”

“why?” you ask, blinking at them. “i’m good here. i don’t need to go out.”

jen sets her bag down with a dramatic gesture. “girl, no. you’ve been ‘good here’ for three months, and we’re not letting you wallow anymore.”

“we’re going all out,” abby adds, stepping inside. her sleek ponytail swings as she gestures toward the bag. “nails, hair, brows, lashes—everything.”

you blink at them. “why do i need a spa day?”

“because you need to get ready for spa weekend,” jen says, emphasizing the word with a grin.

you stare at her blankly. “what are you talking about?”

abby rolls her eyes and flops onto your couch, crossing her legs. “the belgian grand prix. at spa-francorchamps. your favorite track. we’re going.”

your jaw drops. “you’re kidding.”

“we are not,” jen says, pulling out her phone and waving the email confirmation in your face. “two nights in a cute little airbnb, paddock passes for the race, and the works.”

“we saved for this forever,” abby says. “and let’s be honest, you need this.”

“and you just… decided to surprise me?” you ask, trying to keep calm and collected whilst wrapping your head around the idea of going to a fomula 1 race.

jen smirks. “well, we didn’t think you’d agree if we told you ahead of time. and now, you can’t back out.”

“besides,” abby adds, “you’ve been talking about spa for years. ‘oh, it’s so historic, it’s the best track, the corners are iconic.’ you’re gonna lose your mind when we’re there.”

you can feel your heart racing, the excitement bubbling under your skin despite yourself. you’ve dreamed of going to spa-francorchamps for as long as you can remember.

“so,” jen says, crossing her arms. “are you coming, or are you gonna sit here in your sad little cocoon and regret it forever?”

“obviously i’m coming,” you squeal with delight, a big grin painting your face.

“great,” abby says, hopping up and clapping her hands together. “then let’s get you race-weekend ready.”

the drive to spa-francorchamps is electric. you, jen, and abby are packed into a rental car, your bags crammed into the trunk, the radio blasting a mix of pop music and sing-along songs. every few minutes, one of you squeals about something—whether it’s the scenery, the fact that you’re actually going to spa, or the vip paddock passes tucked safely in jen’s bag.

“can you believe this?” you ask, practically bouncing in your seat. “we’re going to spa. i mean, eau rouge, blanchimont, la source—it’s iconic.”

“we know,” abby says with a grin. “you’ve been talking about it nonstop since we booked this trip.”

“you’re gonna cry when you see it,” jen teases from the driver’s seat. “i swear, you’re worse than those drivers who kiss the track.”

you laugh, but deep down, you know she’s right.

the airbnb is a cozy, modern expensive cottage just outside the circuit. the three of you walk in, and you’re immediately blown away. sleek wood paneling, a spacious living area, and a kitchen stocked with snacks and, most importantly, champagne.

“this is perfect,” abby says, dropping her bag on the floor and kicking off her shoes. “i feel like a celebrity already.”

jen pops open a bottle of champagne while you and abby explore the place, claiming bedrooms and marveling at the view of the surrounding hills. by the time you all settle in the living room, glasses in hand, the excitement is palpable.

“to spa,” jen says, raising her glass.

“to the best trip ever,” abby adds.

“to eau rouge,” you say with a grin.

you all clink glasses and take a sip, the bubbles fizzing on your tongue. for the first time in months, you feel light. happy. like yourself again.

“okay, okay,” jen says, pulling her phone out of her pocket. “before we get too tipsy, there’s one more thing we need to do.”

“what now?” you ask, sinking into the couch.

jen exchanges a look with abby, who’s barely containing her grin.

“we have a surprise,” abby says, pulling her laptop out of her bag. she opens it up and types something in while you watch, confused.

“guys,” you say. “what’s going on?”

jen leans over and taps a key, turning the screen toward you. “read this.”

you blink at the email in front of you. the subject line reads: “Congratulations! You’ve won the Scuderia Ferrari F1 Experience!”

“what is this?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“it’s that competition we entered,” jen says, smirking. “you know, the one to sit beside rafe cameron while he drives you around in his f1 car? yeah, you won.”

your jaw drops. “you’re joking.”

“nope,” abby says, grinning. “you’re meeting him. this weekend. in spa. we didn’t tell you earlier because we knew you’d freak out.”

“i’m already freaking out!” you yell, scrambling to reread the email. “how—when—why didn’t you text me?”

jen laughs, sipping her champagne. “because this reaction is way better in person.”

“plus, we knew you’d try to back out,” abby says. “and there’s no way we’re letting that happen.”

you stare at the email, your heart pounding. rafe cameron. the golden boy of formula one. the guy whose posters are still taped to your bedroom wall. the one you’ve lowkey crushed on for years. and now, you’re going to meet him.

“oh my gosh,” you whisper, looking up at them. “what am i supposed to say to him? what am i supposed to wear?”

“don’t worry,” jen says, smirking. “we’ve got you covered. now drink your champagne and start practicing your ‘hi, i’m not a complete disaster’ speech.”

abby laughs. “yeah, maybe skip the part where you cried during the monza race last year.”

“shut up!” you say, throwing a pillow at her, but you can’t stop the grin spreading across your face. because for the first time in forever, you’re genuinely, wildly excited.

monday morning feels surreal. the entire weekend at spa-francorchamps had been a dream—a whirlwind of roaring engines, flashing cameras, and the electric buzz of formula one. the race had been the highlight: the screams of the crowd as rafe crossed the line in p3, a hard-fought podium for scuderia ferrari. you’d cheered so loud you thought you might lose your voice, jumping up and down with jen and abby as the tifosi flags waved around you.

now, the reality of what’s about to happen is hitting you like a freight train. you’re sitting at the little dining table in your airbnb, staring at a perfectly brewed cup of coffee you haven’t touched. the sunlight filters through the windows, but it does nothing to calm the swarm of butterflies in your stomach.

“you good?” abby asks, leaning against the kitchen counter as she scrolls through her phone. she’s already dressed for the day, her outfit chic and effortless.

“define ‘good,’” you mumble, tapping your fingers nervously on the table. “because I think I’m having a heart attack.”

jen, who’s been rifling through her makeup bag, snorts. “you’re not having a heart attack. you’re just meeting rafe cameron. no big deal, right?”

“yeah, just the literal guy whose career you’ve followed for years,” abby says, smirking.

“the one you’re constantly defending on twitter,” jen adds with a teasing grin. “you’re basically his unofficial PR rep.”

“you’re both the worst,” you mutter, but there’s no real heat in your voice. you know they’re right.

abby sets her phone down and walks over to you, resting her hands on your shoulders. “listen, you’ve got this. he’s just a guy. a really, really attractive guy who drives at, like, 200 miles per hour for a living. no pressure.”

“you’re not helping,” you groan, burying your face in your hands.

jen laughs, zipping up her makeup bag and tossing it onto the couch. “ignore her. just remember: be cool, don’t fangirl too hard, and for your sake, don’t mention that you cried when he won monza last year.”

“i’m never telling you anything again,” you grumble, but the corners of your mouth twitch upward despite yourself.

after going to the ferrari hospitality room the three of you waited until—a knock at the door makes you freeze. all three of you exchange a look.

“it’s time,” abby says, her voice dripping with mock seriousness.

“go get him, tiger,” jen says, giving you a little shove toward the door.

your heart pounds as you open it, and standing there, in all his post-race glory, is rafe cameron. he’s in a casual scuderia ferrari polo, his signature blond hair slightly tousled, and those piercing blue eyes that seem even more intense in person.

“hi,” you manage to squeak out, which is honestly an achievement considering rafe cameron is standing two feet away from you, looking like he just stepped out of a Ferrari promo shoot.

“hi,” he says again, and the way his voice sounds—low, smooth, a little gravelly—sends your brain spiraling. “i’m rafe… uh, cameron. rafe cameron.”

your heart swells, you were sure your face was heating up. hearing his voice in real life was so much different then in screen. you give him a nod as you replied, “i’m y/n.”

“you ready?”

ready? absolutely not. but you nod anyway, because there’s no way you’re backing out now. “yeah, totally. let’s do this.”

rafe chuckles, his smile growing a little wider, and he gestures toward the bright red Ferrari waiting in the driveway. it’s the sleekest, shiniest car you’ve ever seen, and your heart skips a beat just looking at it.

“after you,” he says, stepping aside to let you pass.

you move toward the car, hyper-aware of every step you take, and slide into the passenger seat. the leather feels buttery-soft beneath you, and the interior smells faintly of something expensive and clean. you fumble with the seatbelt, trying to act casual, but the buckle refuses to click into place.

“uh,” you mumble, feeling your cheeks heat up as you wrestle with it. “this is fine. totally fine.”

“need some help?” rafe asks, already leaning over before you can say no.

your breath hitches as he moves closer, his arm brushing against yours. he smells like a mix of cologne and engine oil, and the proximity is almost too much to handle. his fingers brush yours as he takes the buckle, and you swear you forget how to breathe.

“here,” he says softly, sliding the buckle into place with a satisfying click. “got it.”

“thanks,” you mumble, your voice barely above a whisper. you’re hyper-aware of how close he is, his face just inches from yours, his blue eyes catching the light in a way that’s downright distracting.

“no problem,” he says, his gaze lingering on yours for just a second longer than necessary before he pulls back. “safety first, right?”

you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, forcing yourself to focus on something—anything—other than the way your heart is pounding.

“right. safety first,” you echo, trying to sound normal, which is nearly impossible when rafe cameron is looking at you like that.

he starts the car, and the engine roars to life, the sound sending a thrill through you. “ready?” he asks again, glancing at you with a small, knowing smile.

“ready,” you say, gripping the edge of your seat like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to the earth.

but deep down, you know you’re not ready. not for the car, not for the speed, and definitely not for rafe cameron.

the roar of the engine vibrates through the car as rafe pulls out onto the private track, the red Ferrari handling like a dream under his control. you’re gripping the seat, trying to act chill, but the sheer power of the car is making your heart race. or maybe it’s rafe. hard to say.

“so,” he says, his eyes flicking toward you briefly, a small smirk tugging at his lips, “have you ever been in a car like this before?”

“not even close,” you admit, trying not to sound too breathless.

“figured,” he teases lightly, his smirk deepening. “most people don’t have ‘f1 passenger seat’ on their bucket list. you’re kind of unique that way.”

you raise an eyebrow at him, feeling a spark of courage. “unique? is that your way of saying I’m a little weird?”

he laughs, the sound warm and genuine, and it makes you feel oddly triumphant. “no, it’s my way of saying you’ve got good taste. not everyone appreciates what these cars can really do.”

before you can respond, he presses the accelerator, and the car launches forward with a force that presses you back into your seat. a surprised laugh escapes you as the world outside becomes a blur of colors.

“whoa!” you exclaim, gripping the door handle.

“you good?” he asks, glancing at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“i think so,” you manage, your voice tinged with nervous laughter. “just wasn’t expecting that.”

“you’ve gotta trust me,” he says, his tone softening a little. “i’ve done this a couple of times before, you know.”

“oh, really? i had no idea,” you say dryly, earning another laugh from him.

he takes the first corner with surgical precision, the car hugging the curve effortlessly. you can’t help but admire how smooth and controlled his movements are, even at this speed.

“you’re good at this,” you say, half-teasing, half-serious.

“thanks,” he says, shooting you a quick grin. “i try.”

he slows down just enough to let you catch your breath before speeding up again. “so,” he starts, his voice casual, “do you have a favorite driver? besides me, of course.”

you roll your eyes, but you can’t help smiling. “oh, obviously you’re the best,” you say, playing along. “but charles and lewis are up there too.”

“charles, huh?” he says, raising an eyebrow. “i should’ve known you’d be a ferrari loyalist.”

“what can i say?” you reply with a shrug. “i love the drama.”

“well, we’ve got plenty of that,” he says with a chuckle. “but if i ever see you in a lewis hat, it’s over.”

you laugh, the tension in your chest easing just a little. “noted. no lewis merch around you.”

he takes another corner, and you feel the g-force push you sideways. he’s watching you out of the corner of his eye, clearly amused by your reaction.

“you’re handling this pretty well,” he says. “most people scream.”

“i might start,” you say, gripping the seatbelt as he picks up speed again.

he grins, his eyes sparkling. “don’t worry. i’ll slow down if you ask.”

“don’t you dare,” you shoot back, surprising yourself with the boldness in your tone.

his laugh echoes through the car, and for a moment, you forget about the speed, the track, and everything else. it’s just you and rafe, the easy banter between you making the world outside seem far away.

after the ride, your nerves are still humming, but it’s not just from the speed—it’s from him. rafe parks the car back in the paddock with the smooth precision of someone who’s done this a thousand times, then turns to you with that trademark grin that’s equal parts cocky and boyish charm.

“so,” he says, resting an arm on the steering wheel as he looks over at you. “what’d you think? am i as good as the commentators say?”

you let out a laugh, shaking your head. “you’re fishing for compliments already?”

“just curious,” he says, leaning slightly closer. “it’s not every day i drive someone who actually knows the sport. figured you’d have some… constructive criticism.”

you meet his gaze, trying to hold your ground despite the way his blue eyes seem to see right through you. “okay, fine. you’re good. but don’t let it go to your head.”

“too late,” he quips, winking as he steps out of the car and rounds to your side, opening your door before you can do it yourself.

“chivalry?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as you step out.

“what can i say? i’m full of surprises,” he replies, and you can’t help the small laugh that escapes you.

stepping out of the car, you’re greeted by the crew from ferrari, their cameras pointed in your direction. you can see the bright red of the team logo on their shirts, and the reality of the situation hits you again—this isn’t just a dream. this is real. and rafe cameron is standing right next to you, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“so,” rafe says, leaning casually against the car, his arms crossed as he looks at you. “what’d you think? was i as good as you imagined?”

you roll your eyes, but the heat creeping up your neck betrays you. “you were fine. nothing i couldn’t handle.”

he laughs, the sound low and warm. “fine? come on, i saw you gripping that seat like your life depended on it.”

“it was a fast car!” you defend, crossing your arms. “anyone would’ve been nervous.”

“i think my soul left my body at least twice.”

he laughs, leaning casually against the car. “you didn’t scream, though. i’ll give you that.”

“oh, i wanted to,” you say, crossing your arms. “but i figured i’d try to keep a shred of dignity.”

“impressive,” he says, his grin widening. “most people lose it after the first corner.”

“what can i say?” you reply, your confidence bolstered by his teasing. “i’m just unique like that.”

his eyebrows lift with a teasing smirk. “oh, really? i should take those words back considering you couldn’t figure out their seatbelt.”

you groan, covering your face with your hands as the crew chuckles behind their cameras. “you’re not going to let that go, are you?”

“not a chance,” he says, his voice full of playful arrogance. “it’s going in the highlight reel for sure.”

“the highlight reel?” you ask, peeking at him through your fingers.

he nods, clearly loving the way he’s flustering you. “yeah, this is all for ferrari’s youtube channel. fans are going to love it. you’re a natural in front of the camera, by the way.”

the ferrari crew exchanges amused looks, clearly loving every second of the interaction. one of them steps forward, holding a mic. “so, what’s the verdict? would you ride with rafe again?”

you glance at rafe, who’s watching you with a smug smile, and decide to play along. “only if he promises not to tease me about the seatbelt ever again.”

“deal,” rafe says immediately, holding out his hand like it’s a serious negotiation.

you shake it, his grip warm and firm, and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the world fades away.

“all right, that’s a wrap for now,” one of the crew members says, lowering the camera. “great job, both of you.”

“so,” he says, his eyes locked on yours, “any chance you’re sticking around? i owe you a proper debrief. you know, off-camera.”

you laugh nervously, your heart pounding again. “i don’t think i’m qualified for that.”

“sure you are,” he says, that cocky grin firmly in place. “besides, it’s not every day i meet someone who keeps me on my toes.”

you bite your lip, trying to play it cool even as your pulse races. “i’ll think about it.”

“good,” he says, straightening up. “but don’t think too hard. you might miss out.”

as he walks away, the faint smell of cologne and burnt rubber lingering in the air, you realize you’re smiling like an idiot. living in the moment, you remind yourself, and for once, it feels pretty damn good.

you’re pacing the airbnb living room, recounting every detail of your post-drive conversation with rafe to jen and abby. well, trying to, anyway. your thoughts are still jumbled, the memory of his smile and the way he said, “you might miss out” playing on a loop in your head like a song you can’t stop humming.

“wait, wait, wait,” jen interrupts, holding up a hand as she sits cross-legged on the couch, her expression equal parts amused and incredulous. “you’re telling me rafe cameron invited you to hang out after the drive, and you didn’t say yes?”

you stop pacing, throwing your hands up. “i was stressed! it caught me off guard! do you know how many things were going through my head? i literally blanked.”

“girl.” jen’s voice is dripping with disbelief. “how do you blank on that? it’s rafe cameron.” she says his name like it’s your earth’s purpose, as if she can’t believe you’re even capable of such an oversight.

“i know, okay?” you groan, collapsing onto the armchair across from her. “but the cameras were there, and everyone was looking at me, and he was being all… rafe about it!”

abby, who’s been lounging on the other end of the couch scrolling through her phone, looks up with a sympathetic smile. “it’s fine. you’re overthinking it. and, like, you might want to stop, because…” she trails off, her smile growing into something mischievous.

“because what?” you ask, sitting up straight.

“look at your phone,” abby says, her tone light, teasing.

you hesitate, your heart already speeding up. “why?”

“just do it!” jen says, practically bouncing now, her curiosity piqued.

with a sinking feeling in your stomach—and a spark of hope you’re trying to ignore—you grab your phone from the coffee table. as soon as you unlock it, the notification stares back at you, big and bold and impossible to miss.

rafe cameron is following you.

your jaw drops, and for a moment, you can’t even form words.

“well?” jen demands, leaning forward. “what does it say?”

you hold up the screen, and both of them erupt into chaos. jen is practically shrieking, while abby claps her hands together like this is the greatest thing that’s ever happened.

“oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!” jen yells, grabbing your arm and shaking you. “he followed you? this is huge. this is, like, life-changing!”

“it’s just a follow, right?” you mumble, though your face is burning, and you can’t stop the big smile creeping onto your lips. you were scared you were reaching too far.

“just a follow?” abby repeats, her eyebrows shooting up. “girl, this is rafe cameron. this isn’t just a follow; this is game on.”

“okay, but what do i do now?” you ask, your voice edging on panic. “do i follow him back? do i message him? do i do nothing?”

“you follow him back, duh,” jen says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “but don’t message him. play it cool.”

abby shakes her head. “no, you definitely message him. something casual, like, ‘thanks for the drive, it was fun.’ or maybe something flirty, like—”

“no flirty messages,” you interrupt, groaning. “i can’t. i’ll mess it up.”

“you can’t mess it up,” abby says confidently. “trust me, he’s already interested. the ball’s in your court.”

you stare at the notification again, your mind spinning. it’s surreal, like something out of a dream. jen and abby are still debating the best approach, but all you can think about is rafe’s smile, his voice, and the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world.

finally, you take a deep breath and follow him back.

“there,” you say, holding up the phone like you’ve just defused a bomb. “step one: complete.”

“and now we wait,” jen says, grinning. “but don’t worry. he’s definitely going to make the first move.”

abby smirks, raising an eyebrow. “oh, he’s already made the move.”