Behind-the-scenes: Drew Starkey X Actress!reader

behind-the-scenes: drew starkey x actress!reader

the camera’s red recording light blinked to life as you set it up on the tripod, adjusting the angle to capture the perfect behind-the-scenes footage for your latest youtube video. the studio was bustling with activity; lights were being positioned, crew members scurried around, and drew starkey, with his usual charm, was deep in conversation with the director.

you glanced at drew from the corner of your eye, his tall frame and easy smile drawing you in even amidst the chaos. today, you were filming a special behind-the-scenes look at the movie you were both working on. the video was meant to show the fun and excitement of the set, but you had a feeling it would reveal a lot more—especially with drew’s effortless charisma and your growing attraction towards him.

“hey, everyone!” you began, speaking into the camera. “welcome to today’s behind-the-scenes. i’m here with the one and only drew starkey, who’s about to give us an exclusive tour of the set.”

drew’s face lit up as he approached the camera, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “hey there, folks. ready to see what goes down when the cameras aren’t rolling?”

you nodded, trying to keep your composure as he stood just a bit too close. his cologne, a subtle blend of cedarwood and musk, enveloped you, making it hard to focus. drew’s presence was magnetic, and the chemistry between you was palpable, even if it was just a playful, teasing moment on camera.

as drew began showing off the different sets and props, he playfully interacted with you, his touch lingering a bit longer than necessary when he demonstrated something. each casual brush of his hand against yours or the way his fingers gently tapped your arm made your heart race. you tried to keep your tone light and professional, but it was increasingly difficult with drew’s attention so focused on you.

“let’s take a look at the main set,” drew said, guiding you toward the elaborate backdrop. “this is where the magic happens.”

as you walked, drew’s hand brushed against your lower back, sending a jolt through you. you glanced at him, catching his knowing smirk. it was clear he enjoyed the effect he had on you, and you couldn’t deny how much you enjoyed it too. the camera was still rolling, but it was hard to keep up the pretense of professionalism when his touch was so electrifying.

at one point, drew stopped to adjust the camera’s angle for a better shot, his body pressing against yours. his breath was warm against your neck as he leaned in, his voice a soft whisper. “you know, we should probably get a bit closer for this part. it’ll look better on camera.”

you swallowed hard, trying to maintain your composure. “closer?” you asked, your voice barely more than a breath.

“yeah,” he said, his lips brushing your ear. “closer.”

before you could react, drew’s hand slid around your waist, pulling you into a close embrace. the camera continued to record, capturing the intimate moment between the two of you. his touch was gentle but firm, and the way he looked at you made your heart skip a beat.

“see?” he said, his voice low and teasing. “much better.”

as the camera continued to roll, you found yourself lost in the moment, your eyes locked with drew’s. the behind-the-scenes video might have been about the movie, but it quickly turned into a captivating glimpse into the undeniable chemistry between you two.

you finished the segment with a playful smile, the camera capturing your flushed cheeks and the way drew’s eyes lingered on you. the video would undoubtedly leave fans buzzing, not just about the film but about the undeniable connection between you and drew.

and as the recording light finally dimmed, you knew that the behind-the-scenes footage had captured something far more personal and exhilarating—an unspoken affair that had only just begun.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @sunny1616 @willowpains

𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐲’𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐡

pairing: dad!drew starkey x mom!reader

summary: drew and your son, rustyn, team up to make your favorite chicken dish as a surprise, recording everything for tiktok. you sit behind the camera, resisting the urge to jump in and help as chaos and hilarity unfold.

warning(s): english is not my native language. fluff, humor, family bonding, minor kitchen chaos, mentions of food (specifically chicken), and family love.

au: like, reblog and feedbacks are much appreciated. taglist | tagging: @rafeyslamb @tracymbcm @enjoymyloves @akobx @rubixgsworld @xoxohoneymoongirl @mileyraes @maybankslover @noobmazter69 @littlelamy @wearemadeofstardust0 @xoxosblogsblog @saviorcomplexrry @bisexualcvnt @stuffyownswrld @anamiad00msday @httpsdrewstarkey

i can’t add the url link and i don’t know what the freak is wrong with tumblr today but if you wanted to be add in taglist, please visit my pinned post. thank you!! 💗 request are open!

"Hi! I’m Drew, and I’m here with—" Drew Starkey says, his voice full of warmth and excitement as he waves to the camera.

"Rustyn Starkey!" your son chirps in, his little face lighting up as he waves enthusiastically, nearly bouncing on his feet next to Drew.

Both of them turn toward the camera with wide smiles, clearly in sync, even though this is their first attempt at a cooking video. “And we’re here to make Mommy’s favorite dish!” they say in unison, clearly proud of themselves.

Sitting behind the camera, you can’t help but chuckle softly. The two of them are absolutely adorable as they take on this challenge together. Drew is wearing a navy apron that you bought him, while Rustyn sports a matching mini apron you had custom-made for him, though his is already smudged with something suspiciously sticky. You’re determined to let them handle this without your help, even if your fingers are already itching to jump in and offer guidance.

Drew claps his hands together. “Okay, buddy, first things first. What are we making today?”

Rustyn looks up at him with wide eyes and says, "We’re making chicken parmesan for Mommy!"

Drew grins, nodding encouragingly. "That’s right! Mommy loves chicken parmesan, and we’re going to make the best version ever, right?"

“Right!” Rustyn pumps a tiny fist in the air, his excitement contagious.

Drew gestures to the ingredients spread out on the counter in front of them. "So, what do we need first?"

Rustyn, with all the seriousness of a professional chef, peers over the ingredients. His tiny hands hover above the raw chicken breasts for a moment before he declares, “We need chicken!”

Drew laughs, impressed. "Exactly! We need the chicken first." He picks up the chicken breasts, holding them for the camera. "We’ve got these nice, fresh chicken breasts. Rustyn, should we season them first?"

Rustyn nods vigorously, already reaching for the salt. You can’t help but lean forward, your heart pounding as you see him lift the shaker. Oh no, you think to yourself, but Drew’s calm voice pulls you back.

“Okay, Rustyn, just a little sprinkle of salt,” Drew says, his voice soft and patient as he gently helps guide Rustyn’s hand.

Rustyn’s face scrunches in concentration as he shakes the salt over the chicken, a little too much falling onto the first piece. But Drew laughs it off, shaking his head with a grin. “Well, Mommy does like her food seasoned!”

You smile behind the camera, trying not to laugh out loud. That’s one salty piece of chicken, you think, but you know it’ll turn out just fine.

“Next, let’s add some pepper,” Drew instructs, handing Rustyn the pepper grinder. Together, they add just enough to the chicken, and your son is already beaming with pride.

“Now for the fun part,” Drew says, setting the seasoned chicken aside. “We’re going to coat these in breadcrumbs, okay?”

Rustyn’s eyes go wide with excitement. “Can I do it?”

“Of course, buddy! I’ll help you.” Drew sets up a little assembly line, showing Rustyn how to first dip the chicken in flour, then into a beaten egg, and finally into the breadcrumbs.

Rustyn’s small hands eagerly take over, and with Drew guiding him, they begin the process. Flour goes everywhere—on the counter, on the floor, even on Rustyn’s cheek. Drew just chuckles, shaking his head as he watches Rustyn dip the chicken into the egg, his focus intense.

“Great job!” Drew praises as they coat the chicken breasts. He sneaks a glance over at you, throwing a playful grin your way. “Mommy, I can see you’re dying to help over there, but we’ve got this.”

You laugh softly but stay in your seat, biting your lip. They really do have this, you think, even if the kitchen looks like a flour bomb went off.

Once the chicken is fully coated in the breadcrumbs, Drew places them gently into a sizzling pan of oil. The sound of the chicken hitting the hot pan fills the kitchen, and Rustyn’s eyes widen in amazement. “It’s cooking!” he exclaims.

Drew grins, flipping the chicken carefully. “Yep, it’s cooking. We’re almost there. You ready to help with the sauce?”

Rustyn nods excitedly, running over to the small pot where the tomato sauce is simmering on the stove. Drew, ever the responsible dad, holds his hand the whole time, making sure Rustyn is safe as he stirs the sauce carefully.

“Good job, buddy. Now, what’s next?” Drew asks, looking over the recipe card you left for them.

“Cheese!” Rustyn shouts, clearly proud that he remembered.

“That’s right! Mommy loves extra cheese,” Drew laughs, reaching for the shredded mozzarella and parmesan. “Let’s sprinkle it on the chicken.”

Drew and Rustyn, working as the perfect team, cover the golden-brown chicken with a generous layer of cheese before sliding the dish into the oven to finish. The kitchen may be a mess of flour, breadcrumbs, and sauce splatters, but the smell of the chicken parmesan fills the air, and you feel your heart swell with happiness.

Rustyn turns to the camera with a big grin. “Mommy’s gonna love it!”

“I sure hope so,” Drew says, laughing as he wraps an arm around Rustyn’s shoulders. “Now we just wait for it to bake.”

A little while later, the oven dings, and the two chefs eagerly pull out their creation. The chicken is perfectly golden, with melted cheese bubbling on top, and Rustyn’s excitement is palpable as Drew plates it carefully.

“Alright, Mommy, it’s your turn to try,” Drew says, motioning for you to come over.

You set the camera down, walking over to the counter where the finished dish sits. Rustyn hands you a fork, his face full of pride. “Taste it, Mommy! We made it just for you!”

You take a bite, and though the kitchen may be a mess and the seasoning might be a little heavy in spots, it’s absolutely perfect. Not because of how it tastes, but because of the love and effort that went into making it.

“Delicious,” you say with a warm smile, pulling both of them into a hug. “This is the best chicken parmesan I’ve ever had.”

Rustyn beams, and Drew presses a soft kiss to your temple, his arm still wrapped around you. “We did it, buddy,” Drew says, giving Rustyn a high-five.

As you pull back, your gaze shifts to the flour-covered counters and the sauce-splattered stove, but none of it matters. What matters is the beautiful moment the three of you shared. The laughter, the teamwork, and the love.

Rustyn looks up at you with wide eyes. “Can we make it again tomorrow?”

Drew laughs, shaking his head. “Let’s clean up first, buddy. Mommy might need a little break from our kitchen adventures.”

You laugh too, pulling them both in for another hug. “I think I’ll help next time, but you two did an amazing job.”

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

pairing: sweet!rafe cameron x pogue!reader

summary: you and rafe have known each other for years, despite being from opposite sides of the social spectrum on the outer banks. while you’ve always been a pogue and he’s a kook, there’s always been a connection between the two of you, one that has deepened into friendship over the years. but when rafe shows up at your parents’ house one day with a bouquet of your mom’s favorite flowers, asking for permission to take you on a date, it becomes clear his feelings for you run deeper than you ever expected.

warning(s): english is not my native language. fluff, friends-to-lovers, pogue vs. kook tension, supportive parents, a kind and sweet rafe cameron.

au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated, actually i wrote this for drew but i though oh why not a sweet rafe for this. taglist | tagging: @rafeyslamb @tracymbcm @enjoymyloves @akobx @rubixgsworld @xoxohoneymoongirl @mileyraes @maybankslover @noobmazter69 @littlelamy @wearemadeofstardust0 @xoxosblogsblog @saviorcomplexrry @bisexualcvnt @stuffyownswrld @anamiad00msday @httpsdrewstarkey

The Outer Banks was always divided—two worlds coexisting on the same stretch of sand and water, yet so far apart. The Pogues, like you, lived on the south side, where hard work, loyalty, and tight-knit community defined your way of life. The Kooks, like Rafe Cameron, lived on the north side, where money, power, and status were everything. Growing up, those lines were clear, and you were taught to stay on your side of them. Yet, as you got older, you began to realize that not all Kooks fit the mold.

Rafe was different.

He wasn’t the Rafe that the rest of the world saw—the Rafe who threw parties at Tannyhill, who had a reputation for getting into fights or drinking too much. With you, he was kind, thoughtful even. You had known each other for years, despite the social divide. It started with brief conversations on the docks or passing each other on the beach. But somehow, over time, those small exchanges turned into something more. Late-night talks when no one was around, shared glances across bonfires, and moments when it felt like the world around you faded away.

Still, you both kept it platonic—safe, avoiding the possibility of crossing a line that might complicate your lives. After all, what would people think? A Pogue and a Kook? No one would understand. But that didn’t stop the quiet tension that always seemed to linger between you two, the way his hand would hover just a little too close to yours, the way his eyes followed you when he thought you weren’t looking.

You had convinced yourself that Rafe was just being a good friend. That his kindness didn’t mean anything more than that. But everything changed the day he showed up at your parents’ house.

It was a warm afternoon, your mom sat at the table with her cup of coffee. Your dad was nearby, flipping through the latest fishing magazine, savoring the rare quiet weekend. The sound of the doorbell suddenly interrupted the peaceful atmosphere, drawing your dad’s attention.

“Who could that be?” your mom mused aloud, glancing toward the door.

Your dad stood up with his usual slow, deliberate pace, not expecting anyone. He made his way to the door and opened it, only to find Rafe Cameron standing on the front porch. Rafe, with his light brown hair and piercing blue eyes, looked as out of place as ever in your Pogue neighborhood. He held a bouquet of gardenias in his hand, the white petals stark against the casual but expensive clothing he wore.

Your dad blinked in surprise, not expecting to see him here. “Rafe?” he asked.

Rafe smiled, but there was a nervous edge to it. He’d been here before, of course—your parents knew him, albeit from a distance. He wasn’t a stranger, but he certainly wasn’t someone they saw frequently outside of the occasional gatherings. Still, Rafe had always been respectful, polite. And today, something in his expression told your dad that this visit wasn’t just a casual drop-by.

“Hey, Mr. Y/L/N,” Rafe greeted, shifting the flowers in his hand. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

Your dad tilted his head slightly, raising an eyebrow. “Not at all. Come on in, son,” he said, stepping aside and holding the door open.

Rafe walked inside, his gaze sweeping over the familiar interior of your home, which was far smaller and cozier than his sprawling family estate, Tannyhill. The warmth of the space, the lived-in feeling, was a sharp contrast to the cold elegance of his house. That’s what he always liked about coming here. It felt real.

Your mom appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, a curious look on her face when she saw Rafe standing in the foyer. “Rafe Cameron,” she said, her tone lifting in surprise.

“What brings you here? Is everything alright?”

Rafe smiled politely, but you could see the tension in his shoulders, the nervous energy beneath his cool exterior.

“Everything’s fine, Mrs. Y/L/N,” he assured her. He lifted the bouquet in his hands and offered it to her. “These are for you. Y/N told me once that gardenias were your favorite.”

Your mom blinked in surprise, her lips parting slightly before a smile spread across her face. “Oh, Rafe,” she said softly, reaching for the flowers. “You didn’t have to. They’re beautiful.”

Rafe’s smile relaxed, his nerves easing a bit. “I just wanted to bring something.”

Your mom took the bouquet and inhaled the sweet scent of the gardenias. “You’re too kind, Rafe,” she said, her voice full of warmth.

“I’ll put these in a vase. Y/N’s always telling me how thoughtful you are.”

Rafe chuckled lightly, his eyes softening at the mention of you.

“She talks about you all the time too.”

Your dad, who had been observing the exchange quietly, leaned back against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms as he gave Rafe an appraising look. “So, Rafe, what brings you by? You and Y/N got plans today?”

At the question, Rafe’s heart skipped a beat. This was the moment he had been preparing for, the reason his palms were sweating despite his efforts to stay calm. He straightened slightly, taking a deep breath before answering.

“Actually,” he began, his voice steady but filled with a quiet intensity, “I came here to talk to you both about something. About Y/N.”

Your parents exchanged a look, their curiosity deepening. Your mom set the vase on the counter, her attention fully on Rafe now.

“Go on,” your dad said, his tone neutral but not unkind.

Rafe swallowed, his eyes flicking briefly toward the floor before meeting your dad’s gaze again. He wasn’t used to feeling vulnerable like this, but he knew he had to do this. He had to be honest, not just for himself but for you.

“I’ve known Y/N for a long time,” Rafe said, his voice calm but carrying the weight of his emotions.

“And she’s always been important to me. We’ve been friends for years, but over time, I realized that what I feel for her isn’t just friendship anymore.”

Your mom’s expression softened as she listened, her maternal instincts kicking in as she sensed the sincerity in his voice.

Rafe continued, his gaze steady but full of emotion. “I care about her, more than I ever thought I could care about anyone. And I didn’t want to move forward without talking to you first—without getting your permission.”

The room fell into a brief but meaningful silence as your parents processed his words. Rafe stood there, feeling the weight of the moment, knowing that this was more than just asking permission for a date. It was about showing respect—not just to you, but to your family, to the life you had built on the south side of the island, so different from his own.

“I know there’s a lot of history between Pogues and Kooks,” Rafe added, his voice softening, “but I don’t care about any of that. I just care about her. And I promise, if you give me a chance, I’ll do everything I can to make sure she’s happy.”

Your mom smiled softly, her eyes shining with affection. She had always liked Rafe, despite his background. She had seen the way he looked at you, the way he treated you with care and respect. And more than that, she knew you cared about him too, even if you hadn’t admitted it to yourself yet.

“Rafe,” she said gently, “you’ve always been a good friend to Y/N. And I can see that you’re serious about this.”

Your dad, who had remained quiet for a moment longer, nodded thoughtfully. He wasn’t blind to the tension between the Pogues and the Kooks, nor to the complications that could come with crossing those lines. But he also wasn’t blind to the fact that Rafe, despite his wealth and status, had always treated you with kindness. And as a father, that meant more to him than any social divide.

“Rafe,” your dad said, stepping forward, “if you’re sure about this—about her—then you’ve got my permission. But remember, this isn’t just a casual thing. If you’re serious, you’d better be ready to prove it.”

Rafe’s heart swelled with relief and gratitude. He had expected this to be difficult, but the approval in your dad’s voice, the trust in your mom’s eyes—it meant more to him than he could put into words.

“I am,” Rafe said, his voice filled with sincerity. “I’ll take care of her. I promise.”

Your dad extended his hand, and Rafe took it, the handshake firm and full of unspoken understanding. Your mom smiled warmly, her eyes twinkling with affection as she watched the exchange.

Just then, the sound of the front door unlocking echoed through the house. Your parents turned toward the door, and Rafe’s heart skipped a beat as you walked in, the sunlight streaming in behind you. You had just returned from the docks, your hair slightly tousled from the wind and your skin warm from the sun. You kicked off your shoes and set your bag down by the door before looking up.

“Hey, everyone,” you greeted, smiling as you stepped inside. Your eyes landed on Rafe, and your smile faltered slightly in confusion. “Hey, Rafe Cameron? What are you doing here?”

Your mom exchanged a knowing glance with your dad before turning to you with a warm smile. “Oh, nothing, sweetheart. Rafe was just stopping by to chat. Why don’t you two go sit in the living room for a bit?”

Your heart did a little flip in your chest as you looked between Rafe and your parents. Something was definitely up. There was a tension in the air, a kind of nervous energy that made your stomach flutter with anticipation. You had known Rafe long enough to know when he was holding something back.

“Uh, okay,” you said, your voice uncertain as you led Rafe into the living room. You sat down on the couch, motioning for him to join you. The air between you was thick with unspoken words, and your mind raced, trying to figure out what was going on.

Rafe sat beside you, his hands resting on his knees as he took a deep breath. He turned to face you, his blue eyes locking onto yours, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away.

“Y/N,” Rafe began, his voice soft but steady, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

You felt your heart skip a beat as you watched him. Rafe had always been sweet to you, always treated you differently than the other Kooks, but you had never let yourself believe it could be anything more than friendship. After all, you were a Pogue, and he was a Kook. That was just how it was. But the look in his eyes now—it made you wonder if maybe you had been wrong all along.

“I care about you,” Rafe said, his voice low and full of emotion. “More than I’ve ever cared about anyone. And I know we come from different worlds, but that doesn’t matter to me. What matters is you.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you stared at him, your mind reeling. Was this really happening? Rafe Cameron, one of the most popular Kooks on the island, was sitting in your living room, confessing that he had feelings for you.

“I talked to your parents before you got here,” Rafe continued, his hand reaching out to gently take yours. “I asked for their permission to take you out on a date. I wanted to do this the right way.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as his words sank in. Rafe wasn’t just confessing his feelings—he was showing you, in every way possible, that he was serious about this, about you.

“So,” Rafe said softly, his thumb gently brushing over the back of your hand, “will you go out with me, Y/N? On a real date?”

A tear slipped down your cheek, but you were smiling, your heart swelling with emotion as you nodded. “Yes, Rafe. I’d love to.”

Rafe’s face lit up with a smile that could have melted your heart on the spot. He leaned in, his forehead resting gently against yours as he let out a soft, contented sigh.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

As you sat there, your hands intertwined and your hearts beating in sync, you realized something: maybe the lines between Kooks and Pogues didn’t matter as much as you had once thought. Maybe love was bigger than the social divide that separated your worlds.

And with Rafe, you were ready to find out.

𝜗𝜚 ; bf!rafe & reader relaxing after a party at tannyhill.

𝜗𝜚 ~ warnings ; slight mention of sex, no smut! all fluff and rafe being a big ol’ softie for his girls.

𝜗𝜚 ~ author’s note ; hi huns! this is my first drabble, so go easy on me :3 tell me if u like it in the cmmts and feel free to suggest more concepts in my asks! thanks for reading! ᡣ𐭩

there you were. in your boyfriend’s bed after one of his parties he’s most known for. but tonight was different, usually you two resort to sex since the alcohol in your systems made you 10x more horny. but tonight was a night for elation and rest.

“you feeling better baby?” he says softly, looking into your sparkling eyes and gently caressing your leg. he always thought you looked beautiful, even after getting blackout drunk and passing out on the dance floor with your makeup running down your face. this night, you both took the time to clean up. had a nice, calming shower together, sobered up, and got comfy in his king-sized bed. the smell of your vanilla body wash and your nighttime oils and lotions filling his senses and calming his nerves. he loved having you like this, in his arms without a care in the world.

“mhm, you alright?” you hum, looking up into his ocean blue eyes and smiling softly at his relaxed expression. “better than ever.” rafe replies, bringing a hand up to your face and leaning in for a kiss. it was gentle, but passionate. his tongue prodding your lips as a silent ask for entrance. you smiled against his lips and flung your arms around his neck. he grabs your waist and guides to you rest on his lap. you gently pull away and look down at him, with the most beautiful smile he’s ever seen. the glow of the soft moonlight accentuating your already perfect features.

sitting in front of him now was the only thing he could call home. the one person he felt safe with. the girl he loved most. the one he’d never hurt, and never leave. sometimes he’d even shed a tear thinking about how much you mean to him. scared to lose you but sure that he’d never let you go. as your voice woke up from his quick daydream, he was slightly startled and looked into your eyes once more.

“sorry hun, just thinking about how much i love you” he says with a genuine smile. one that only shows when you’re in his presence. “i’m pretty tired, wanna call it a night?” you ask, hoping for a yes. “of course, doll.” he pats a spot on the bed right next to him and watches you shuffle over. he looks at you adoringly as you nuzzle your head in his neck and leave little kisses.

“g’night handsome boy.” you say softly, closing your eyes and dozing off in his arms. he smiles at the pattern of your breathing and the way you don’t twitch like you used to. “goodnight sweetheart.” he whispers, loud enough for it to enter your dreams but not disturb your rest.

shopping trip: rafe x reader

the boutique is one of those upscale places rafe prefers—sleek and modern, where the clothes are as expensive as they look. you’re not sure why you agreed to come,

but rafe insisted, dragging you along despite knowing how his shopping trips go. his idea of shopping is more like a private runway show where he plays the role of a critical, demanding boyfriend and you’re his model.

standing in front of a wall of dresses, you run your fingers over the delicate fabrics when rafe’s hand snakes around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. “pick something already, babe,” he murmurs, his voice low and impatient. “you’ve been staring at the same rack for five minutes.”

“i’m just looking,” you say, glancing over your shoulder. his look is a mix of smirk and dare, challenging you to take your time when you know that’s not his style.

“yeah, well, you’re here to try things on for me,” he says, his tone dripping with arrogance. he walks over to a nearby rack and starts thumbing through dresses with clear disinterest.

rolling your eyes, you pull a few dresses and head to the fitting room. rafe follows, leaning against the wall outside with his arms crossed, his piercing blue eyes never missing a detail.

inside, you close the door, heart racing. starting with a black silk dress, you step out, feeling his eyes on you immediately. “what do you think?” you ask, trying to stay light despite the shiver down your spine.

rafe doesn’t answer right away. he tilts his head, his gaze intense. “turn around,” he commands, his voice firm.

you comply, feeling his eyes roam over your body. when you face him again, he’s frowning. “it’s fine,” he says dismissively, “but it’s boring. you can do better.”

trying to hide your frustration, you slip into a red dress with a deep neckline. stepping out, rafe’s reaction is immediate. his eyes darken, jaw clenching. “mhm,” he hums, “that’s more like it.”

you feel a flush of satisfaction but before you can savor it, rafe pulls you closer, his hand around your wrist. “spin around,” he orders, his voice rough. you turn slowly, feeling his gaze burn into you. when you face him again, his hand slides from your wrist to your waist, pulling you against him.

“yeah, this one’s better,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your ear. “but you know what would make it perfect?”

“what?” you breathe, feeling the heat between you.

rafe’s lips curl into a smirk as he leans down, his mouth grazing your neck. “if we weren’t in this store right now,” he says, voice low and suggestive, “i’d have you take it off.”

you swallow, heat pooling in your stomach. rafe’s never been shy about what he wants. the way he looks at you makes your knees weak.

pulling back slightly, you raise an eyebrow. “oh, really? what if i like this dress?”

rafe’s grip tightens, his smirk darkening. “i don’t care what you like,” he says coldly. “i care what i like. and i like the idea of you in this dress for about five minutes… and out of it for the rest of the night.”

you bite your lip, trying to suppress a grin. rafe’s arrogance is intoxicating, even when he’s being impossible.

“is that so?” you challenge. “maybe i’ll just buy this one and wear it out. alone.”

rafe’s eyes flash dangerously, and he presses you against the fitting room wall, hand gripping your jaw. “you think you’re cute?” he growls. “you think you can tease me and get away with it?”

your breath hitches, but you meet his gaze. “maybe,” you whisper.

rafe’s thumb brushes your lower lip, his eyes dark with lust. “you’re mine,” he murmurs, voice low and rough. “and you’re not going anywhere without me.”

his possessiveness sends a thrill down your spine. despite his arrogance and how he pushes you, you love the way rafe claims you. because, in his twisted way, you are his.

omg could write abt when readers pregnant with rustyn, just everyone fawning over her baby bump and drew being the sweetest 😭😭

𝐱𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐦𝐩

pairing: drew starkey x fem!reader

summary: seven months pregnant with your son rustyn, you and drew spend christmas night with the starkey family. everyone is excited about your baby bump, showering you with attention and love. drew is the sweetest, constantly fawning over you and your pregnancy, proud and protective as he talks about your journey.

warning(s): english is not my native language. fluff, pregnancy, family bonding, holiday themes, mentions of food, and a whole lot of love, drew’s parents does not divorce in this scenario.

au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. taglist | tagging: @rafeyslamb @tracymbcm @enjoymyloves @akobx @rubixgsworld @xoxohoneymoongirl @mileyraes @maybankslover @noobmazter69 @littlelamy @wearemadeofstardust0 @xoxosblogsblog @saviorcomplexrry @bisexualcvnt @stuffyownswrld @anamiad00msday @httpsdrewstarkey

The cold December air nips at your skin as you and Drew walk up the driveway of the Starkey family home. It’s Christmas night, and the house is covered in a warm glow from the twinkling lights that outline the roof. You can’t help but smile as you take in the holiday cheer. There’s something special about Christmas this year—maybe it’s because of how close you are to meeting your baby, or maybe it’s just the warmth of family that makes everything feel a little more magical.

Your hand instinctively goes to your belly, where your son, Rustyn, is nestled safe and sound. At seven months pregnant, you’re definitely feeling the weight of the third trimester, but every little kick and flutter from Rustyn makes the heaviness worth it. Drew, ever attentive, is right by your side, one arm protectively wrapped around your waist as he guides you up the walkway.

“You doing okay?” Drew asks, his voice soft as he glances down at you with those familiar, caring eyes. He’s been extra cautious lately, always checking in, always making sure you’re comfortable.

“I’m good,” you reassure him with a smile, though you can’t help but feel your heart swell at how sweet he’s been throughout the entire pregnancy. “Excited to see your family.”

Drew grins, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead before opening the front door. The warmth of the Starkey home envelops you immediately, and the sounds of laughter and conversation spill out from the living room. Inside, the house is a vision of Christmas cheer—decorated to the nines with twinkling lights, garlands, and the smell of freshly baked gingerbread cookies wafting from the kitchen.

As soon as you step inside, you’re greeted by Jodi, Drew’s mom, whose face lights up the moment she sees you.

“Oh my goodness, you’re glowing!” she exclaims, rushing over to wrap you in a gentle hug, mindful of your pregnant belly. Her hands, warm and soft, come to rest on your bump, and her smile widens even more. “Look at that belly! Rustyn’s going to be here so soon, I can’t believe it.”

You laugh softly, patting her hand affectionately. “Only two more months and few days to go.”

Jodi practically beams, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “You’re carrying so beautifully. I bet you can’t wait to meet him.”

You nod, feeling the familiar flutter of Rustyn’s movements as if he knows everyone is talking about him. “We’re both really excited,” you say, glancing over at Drew, who is standing proudly beside you, his hand instinctively resting on the small of your back.

“I can’t wait either,” Drew says, his voice full of warmth as he looks at you, his eyes softening with every word. “It feels like we’ve been waiting forever.”

Jodi chuckles, giving him a knowing look. “The wait is always the hardest part. But it’s worth it, trust me.”

As if on cue, Drew’s sister appears, Brooke, her eyes going wide as she spots your belly. “Oh my God, look at you!” she gushes, hurrying over to join her mom. “Can I feel him kick?”

“Of course,” you say with a smile, gently guiding her hand to the side of your belly where Rustyn has been particularly active tonight.

She grins in awe, her face lighting up when she feels a firm little nudge. “Oh! He kicked! That’s amazing!” she squeals, clapping her hands together in delight.

“Strong little guy, huh?” Drew says, his chest puffing up with pride. You can’t help but smile at the way he’s been throughout the pregnancy, always so proud of every little movement, every milestone.

You laugh softly, resting a hand on your belly as Rustyn shifts again. “He’s definitely active.”

Drew’s dad joins the group, his usually serious face softening as he takes in the sight of you and your growing belly. “You look wonderful,” he says, giving Drew a firm pat on the back. “You’re gonna be a great dad, son. Your mom and I are so proud of you.”

Drew’s expression brightens even more, and you feel his hand squeeze your waist affectionately. “Thanks, Dad. We’re both really excited for this next step.”

The evening progresses, you’re ushered into the living room, where the Starkey family gathers around the Christmas tree. The house is filled with the sounds of holiday music, laughter, and the crackling of the fireplace. The room is warm, both in temperature and in the way the Starkey family makes you feel—completely at home.

You find yourself settled into a plush armchair, a pillow tucked behind your back for extra support. Drew, ever attentive, hovers near you, making sure you’re comfortable before he sits down beside you. His hand, as always, finds its way to your belly, resting there as if it’s second nature by now.

“You sure you don’t need anything? Water? Another blanket? Pillow?” Drew asks, his voice full of concern as he rubs gentle circles on your belly.

“I’m good,” you reassure him, leaning into his touch. “I’m just happy to be here.”

Drew smiles, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “I’m happy you’re here too. Rustyn and I are both lucky.”

The two of you sit quietly for a moment, watching as the rest of the family chatters and jokes around the room. Every now and then, someone will come by to check on you or ask how you’re feeling. It’s clear that Drew’s family is just as excited about the baby as the two of you are.

At one point, McKayla plops down on the couch next to you, her eyes bright with curiosity. “So, have you guys decided on the nursery theme yet?”

You smile, thinking about the nursery you and Drew have been working on together. “We’re thinking of a woodland theme,” you say. “Something soft and cozy, with lots of little animals.”

“That’s perfect,” she says with a grin. “I’ll have to come over and help you decorate.”

“You’re welcome anytime,” Drew says, smiling as he leans back in his chair, his hand still resting on your belly. “We’ve got most of the basics done, but we could use some help with the finishing touches.”

“Absolutely,” she says excitedly. “I’m so ready to be an aunt.”

After a while, dinner is announced, and Drew helps you up from your chair, always making sure you’re steady on your feet. You appreciate how attentive he’s been—he never lets you lift a finger if he can help it, and he’s always right there to offer you support when you need it.

The dining room is a sight to behold. The long table is set with elegant Christmas decorations with candles, holly, and sparkling ornaments lining the center—and the smell of roasted turkey, mashed potatoes, and fresh bread fills the air. Plates of food are spread out across the table, and everyone takes their seats with excited chatter.

As soon as you sit down, Drew’s mom is at your side, serving you a generous portion of all your favorite dishes. “You need to eat, sweetheart,” she says kindly, her eyes full of warmth. “You’re eating for two now.”

You chuckle softly, feeling grateful for the way she’s been so attentive all evening. “Thank you,” you say, feeling Rustyn shift again as if he knows you’re about to eat.

Drew sits down beside you, immediately reaching for your hand under the table. “Make sure you don’t overstuff yourself,” he murmurs, his voice gentle as he gives your hand a squeeze. “I don’t want you feeling sick later.”

“I’ll be fine,” you assure him with a smile, appreciating how much he cares. “I know my limits.”

The dinner conversation flows naturally, with Drew’s family sharing stories and laughter as they pass around plates of food. You find yourself at the center of much of the discussion, with everyone asking questions about the pregnancy, how you’re feeling, and what you and Drew are most excited about once Rustyn arrives.

Drew is quick to jump in anytime someone mentions the pregnancy, his face lighting up with pride as he talks about you and how incredible he thinks you’ve been. “She’s been amazing,” he says at one point, his voice full of admiration. “I don’t know how she does it, but she’s handling everything so well. I’m in awe of her every day.”

You blush at his words, feeling the love and warmth radiating from him. It’s moments like these that remind you just how lucky you are to have him by your side.

As the meal winds down, the conversation turns to the future—what next Christmas will be like with a baby in the house, how excited everyone is to meet Rustyn, and all the little things Drew and his family are looking forward to once he arrives.

“Just think,” Jodi says with a smile. “Next year, we’ll have a little one crawling around under the tree. It’s going to be magical.”

“I can’t wait,” Drew says, his hand still firmly holding yours. “It’s going to be the best Christmas ever.”

After dinner, you and Drew retreat back to the living room, where the fire is still crackling softly and the Christmas lights twinkle in the dim light. You’re settled back into your comfortable armchair, and Drew is right beside you wih his hand rests on your belly, gently rubbing soothing circles as the two of you sit in peaceful silence.

You sip on a cup of hot cocoa, savoring the warmth of it as you lean back into the chair, feeling Rustyn move inside you. It’s moments like these, surrounded by love and warmth, that make you realize just how special this Christmas is. It’s your last Christmas before Rustyn arrives, and while you’re excited for all the Christmases to come, there’s something undeniably magical about this one.

Drew looks at you, his blue eyes soft in the firelight. “You good?” he asks, his voice gentle as he watches you with concern. “You need anything?”

You smile at him, feeling your heart swell with love. “I’m perfect,” you say softly. “This has been the best night.”

Drew’s face brightens, and he shifts slightly so he’s facing you fully. “I’m glad,” he says, his hand still resting on your belly. “I just want you to be happy and comfortable. You and Rustyn.”

“We are,” you assure him, reaching down to thread your fingers through his hair. “We couldn’t be happier.”

Drew leans into your touch, his eyes closing briefly as he takes in the moment. “I can’t believe he’s almost here,” he whispers, his voice full of awe. “Two more months, and we’ll be holding him in our arms.”

You nod, feeling your throat tighten with emotion. “I know. It’s hard to believe, isn’t it?”

Drew smiles, his eyes full of love as he looks up at you. “It’s going to be perfect. You’re going to be the best mom.”

“And you’re going to be the best dad,” you say softly, brushing a hand through his hair. “Rustyn is so lucky to have you.”

Drew’s face softens even more, and he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your belly. “Hey, little guy,” he murmurs, his voice so full of love it makes your heart ache. “We’re all here waiting for you. But take your time, okay? We’ll be ready whenever you are.”

Rustyn gives a little kick in response, and Drew grins, his eyes lighting up. “Did you feel that?”

“I did,” you say with a laugh, resting your hand on your belly. “I think he heard you.”

Drew laughs softly, leaning his head against your belly again. “He knows his daddy’s voice.”

The rest of the evening passes in a peaceful blur of laughter, warmth, and holiday magic. As the night winds down and the rest of the family heads off to bed, you and Drew find yourselves alone in front of the Christmas tree, the house quiet and still.

Drew pulls you close, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as the two of you sit in the soft glow of the Christmas lights. “Next Christmas, we’ll have a little one with us,” he says softly, his voice full of wonder. “Can you believe it?”

You smile, resting your head on his shoulder as you feel Rustyn shift inside you. “It’s kind of perfect, isn’t it?”

“More than perfect,” Drew whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “You’ve given me everything I could ever want.”

Your heart swells at his words, and as you sit there, wrapped in each other’s warmth, you realize just how much love you have in your life—and how much more love is on the way with Rustyn’s arrival.