Drew McIntyre Fics & Oneshots

Small Confessions (SMUT)

"Drew, you big softy," I smiled, hugging him tightly, "I didn't mean that towards you, really. I know you'll always be my friend."

"Always, Y/N," He laid his head on top of mine, swaying softly and offering, "A game's about to come on. Wanna whip something up and watch it? We can also use your gift."

"Let's do it," I smiled, taking the roses as he stepped in, "What is the gift?"

Drew always knew me well, making me laugh while heading to the kitchen island, whipping out my favorite bottle of whiskey, "Great for a game day."

"Should've known," I laughed, heading over to the window where I kept my flowers, making those gorgeous white roses right at home in a vase, taking a slow breath in to smell, hearing behind me:

"Ooh, steak!"

Turning, there was Drew at the stove, eating the steak that I had prepared in the skillet for the sandwiches I was going to make and enjoying himself.

"Can I even make the sandwiches first, Drew?!" I scolded, shooing him away from the stove, "I just worked out and need the food."

"It's good!" He protested, stealing one more piece, "I can't help it."

Shaking my head at him, I went ahead and began to make our steak and cheese sandwiches, this time he helped rather than eat it all, and got us two glasses of whiskey so we could sit at the television and turn on the football game.

Moments like these were the best. Good food, whiskey, and a very good game. Once our food was gone, we were yelling at the television like crazy, whiskey maybe influencing how loud our voices were, jumping at certain times when our team scored.

"Come on! There ain't much time left!" Drew was literally on the edge of his seat, scoffing when I said:

"I don't know if they're gonna get it!"

"Bet ya fifty bucks?" He offered, positive that they were going to score, both of us standing and I agreed:

"Bet! They're not-"

"HELL YEAH!" Drew jumped for joy as they scored, winning the game, "Where's my money?!"

"Your money?!" I played back, pushing him softly, "I don't owe you shit."

"Ah! Ah! We made a bet and-" He began and just for fun, I used the coffee table as a step stool, jumping up and also pushing it so I could DDT Drew onto the couch cushion, rolling away to laugh:

"And I bet you didn't see that coming!"

I had to hold my stomach from laughing so hard but came to a slow stop when Drew picked his head up, giving me eyes like a tiger, even while playing.

"Now, Drew-" I went to deescalate, but there was no deescalating, taking off the second Drew got to his feet.

"Why are you running, Y/N?!" He began to chase, running around the couch at first, till I started booking it to my bedroom so I could try to hide:

"Running? I'm not running!"

Damn it, he was fast and I ended up squealing super loud when he ran through and tackled me onto the bed, beginning to tickle me and then raid my pockets:

"Ya owe me fifty bucks! Kick it up!"

"Drew, stop!" I laughed even when he wasn't tickling me, "I can't breathe!"

"How ya talking then!" He made us laugh more, to the point where we weren't breathing, collapsing on my chest and slapping the bed.

"They call you a Scottish psychopath, when you're really the Scottish goofball," I breathed in deep, looking to see his messy hair and bright blue eyes connect with mine, getting that serious, psychopathic look he could get, but was still playful: