#my sister had her baby and it really was a girl

[pearlymel]

Sylus remembers clearly the day he found out you were both having twins. Twins, as in two babies as yours and his first children.

How you almost passed out when the doctor delivered the news, but he was quick to tell you that everything would be okay.

He's going to be the best husband for you, and for the twins..?

they sure were going to be a handful.

“Sylus!” Sylus' head snapped towards the kitchen, where your voice had come from, “come get your son before i cook him!”

He knew that you were joking. Probably.

the kitchen, one hand holding his little girl's hand guiding her along. "Now, now," he called out as he entered the kitchen, "No cooking the children, sweetie.”

You let out a sigh when you watch the boy run away while letting out giggles, his face and hands full of white flour.

Seeing this, Sylus let out an exasperated sigh as well, his gaze shifting from his running figure to the mess of flour on the floor. "Sorry about the mess he made," he muttered before looking over at you, a sheepish smile on his face. "Go to your brother,” he urges the girl next to him, she nods slowly before running off to him.

“I'll feed him to the ducks one day.” You say with determination, still focused on trying to make this dinner a success after the mess.

But Sylus chuckled at your threat, knowing all too well that you were only half-serious. He could see the twitching in your eyes, but he also knew that you loved both of your children dearly, even if they could be a handful sometimes.

”Though I suspect he would probably find a way to befriend them and make a mess with them.”

“.. why are you right?”

“because i know my children,” he says proudly, then makes slow steps from behind you to not alert you so suddenly, his arms snaking around your waste with his chin resting on your shoulder, “what are you making?”

You smile, “dinner.”

"Smartass," he teased, "I meant what kind of dinner are you making?” he whispers calmly, a soft conversation between you two, with his thumb rubbing ideally on you.

“hm, i could be dinner… but oh well.” you sigh dramatically and he laughs quietly.

You couldn't even continue because you hear a faint “ewwww.” Coming from the corner.

You both glance back at the two heads peeking out from the wall, and you roll your eyes.

"and here I was, having a moment with your mother," he said to them, his voice still low yet amused. "You two really have a knack for interrupting, don't you?”

Your little girl was the first to speak, “it was his idea.” She started quietly, her fingers fidgeting together, but her brother only gasped, “she's lying!”

"Oh, really now?" he’s skeptical, and he approaches both of them with his arms crossed, “Hmm, it's always the innocent ones who lie, isn't it?”

“but I'm not—”

“liar.” The little one huffs and looks away with annoyance, but the minute he could hear his sister im the verge of tears, he knew he messed up.

Sylus was quick to notice her distraught demeanor, his heart clenching slightly at the sight of her on the verge of tears.

"you," Sylus pointed out at the other twin, his voice firmer and authoritative, "did you cause the mess?”

…

Sylus let out a deep sigh, his stern expression softening slightly. He knew he was just being a mischievous little boy, but he also had to nip such behavior in the bud.

"You know better than to blame others for your pranks,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. "Apologize to your sister.”

The girl sniffled, the threat of tears subsiding as she accepted her brother's apology. She wiped away her stray tears with the back of her hand, a small smile forming on her face.

Sylus nodded approvingly, he patted both of them on their head gently. "There we go, now go back and play together.”

This whole time you were watching the scene with the biggest smile on your face, and Sylus was already prepared for your upcoming teasing words.

“and the father of the year goes to.. you.” ... except he didn't expect this rare sweet statement of yours. He's reminded of why he put a ring on it in the beginning.

"What can I say?" he replied, his voice filled with pride. "I have a talent for handling troublemakers." He placed both of his arms on the counter to your sides, boxing you in, "though, to be fair, they get their mischievous streaks from their mother," he added, and you gasp before turning around. burnt dinner it is.

[chleem]

Rest of my life

One shot: bf drew x gf yn

Summary: babysitting drew’s niece leads to the realization that you’re the one for him.  

Genre: established relationship, fluff

Warnings: so sweet u get cavities

⋆.˚ please dont copy my work, if inspired please tag me

⋆.˚ this is entirely fictional, if uncomfortable then don't read

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“Which girl did you knock up?” 

Is the first thing you say upon entering Drew’s apartment, your eyes landing on Drew, who has a baby securely strapped against his stomach in a white carrier, the baby looking over at you with doe eyes. 

Drew freezes for a second, then shakes his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he sets a large bag down on the kitchen table. "Oh, y’know, some girl I met on set."

There’s a reason why you and Drew are perfect for each other; the playful banter comes so naturally between you two that it feels like breathing, like there’s no awkwardness in this situation; finding Drew with a baby you’ve never seen before. 

Although, this baby looks oddly familiar. 

“Remember Lils?” Drew asks, as you walk over to him, setting your own bag on the table as well. 

Your eyes light up at the name, recalling the times Drew would show you pictures of his niece. “Oh hi,” you immediately pitch your voice higher, making it soft and playful. The baby, with her big, curious eyes, reaches out her tiny hand, and before you even know it, she’s grabbing onto your finger. 

Her little grip is surprisingly strong, and you can’t help but smile at how adorable she is. “She grew so big,” you comment, looking up at Drew. 

He’s got a soft smile on his lips. “I’know, and I got her for the whole day.”

Your raise an eyebrow playfully at him, “I thought we’re going to the beach today.”

“Yeah, we are,” he emphasizes on that word, his eyes bouncing back between him and Lil. 

Lil lets go of your hand, so you cross your arms at Drew. You roll your eyes, yet the grin on your face gives away your amusement. “Fine. I won’t rob you of your uncle-niece time.”

A chuckle escapes Drew’s lips, and he brings you closer to him by wrapping an arm around your waist. “Lil says it’s okay for you to be there,” his voice, low and playful, as he plants a kiss on your jaw. “Third wheel, you okay with that?”

“Delightful,” you try to sound annoyed at that idea, but really, you looked forward to it. 

Originally, it was a beach date with Drew, but his sister must’ve had some emergency, leading to the sudden babysit. You had no idea that it was going to turn out like this, but you don’t mind. 

Besides, it gives you a chance to see what uncle Drew is like. 

“Aww, don’t be jealous,” he teases, rubbing your elbow, a habit he’s grown into since knowing you. 

“I could never compete with this girl,” you smile down at Lil, whose lips slowly forms an O. You coo at her, playing with her little adorable fingers.

Drew glances down at his watch, snapping you out of the little world you’ve absorbed yourself with Lil in only a few seconds. “Hotdog stand might close. Let’s go.”

“I’m trying the taco one!” You happily chirp, remembering how the last time you went there, a long argument between the two of you resulted in you getting the pizza flavored hot dog. 

“Alright, alright,” Drew assures, taking both of the bags off the table. 

You make an attempt to grab at least one bag from him, but he declines, carrying it all the way to the car himself. 

——

Unknowingly, the whole day at the beach has passed. 

Drew had been so focused on spending time with his niece, he didn’t even notice the way the sky changed. One moment, they were splashing in the shallow waves, building sandcastles, the next, the sun was dipping low.

He walks back to the beach with hotdogs in his hands; buying the snacks now since the crowd has disappeared. 

He replays scenes of today in his mind, thinking about how easy it’s been today. How effortless it felt, spending time with you and Lil. He’d watched you interact with his niece all afternoon—how you encouraged her to explore the sand, showing her the little crabs skittering along the shoreline etc. 

And now, as he makes his way back, he can’t shake the image of you laughing with Lil, your face lighting up when the baby made a funny sound or reached out for you.

He reaches the blanket that the two of you had spread out earlier on the sand, and he glances over your shoulder, expecting to see you playing with Lil. 

Instead, he freezes. 

There you are, holding his niece in your arms. Lil’s fast asleep, her little body relaxed against your chest. 

Drew’s first thought is how cute his niece is. 

His eyes then drift over to you; And that’s when it hits him.

The realization of this moment, the quiet way you’re holding his baby niece, strikes him. His heart skips a beat as he watches you, a quiet warmth flooding his chest. 

The sight of you with her, so natural, so right, feels more profound than anything he expected.

What is this feeling? He thinks.

He tries to shake it off. It’s not just about Lil. It’s about you, the way you make everything feel so simple, so easy. He never expected to see you like this, to see you so gentle, so present.

Is this what love feels like? He doesn’t know. But in that moment, staring at the two of you, something in him clicks. He doesn’t have a name for it yet, but it’s there—this pull, this feeling that maybe, just maybe, everything he thought he wanted was right here in front of him.

“Drew?” 

Your voice is gentle and soft as you call out for him, afraid to wake the baby up. 

Your gaze meets his, and for a second, the world feels smaller. His heart skips again, mind racing around as he scrambles for words in his mind. 

“Hey,” he manages to breathe out, sitting down beside you. He’s careful with his movements, even when handing you your hotdog to your free hand. His lips curl into a soft smile,  almost shy, “she’s out cold, huh?”

He watches as you completely ignore his words, biting down on the hotdog you’ve been waiting for for the whole day. His smile grows; his mind reminded of how easy it is to be around you. It’s not that you’ve said much or done anything extraordinary—just the way you seem to savor the simple things, like food, time spent together—it draws him in every time.

“Good?” Drew asks, teasing hinted in his voice, yet his eyes soften as he waits for your answer. 

“Strange. The pizza flavor’s better,” you comment through chews. 

Laughter erupts in his chest, making you look confusingly at him. You swallow, looking at him with doe eyes. “Let me take her,” he says, his hands reaching for his niece. 

You let him, mainly because of how hungry you are. The exchange is smooth; he now holds Lil in his arms, and you hold onto the two hotdogs, eating away one of them. 

“Y/n?”

You quickly finish the bite, humming at Drew continue talking. He’s looking at you with a soft gaze, almost smitten. He calls for your name, but doesn’t say anything. 

“You want a bite?” You ask, filling in the silence. 

Drew chuckles, and with his free hand, he pulls you by the back of your neck closer to him. He kisses you, slow and soft. You relax under his touch, letting the warm and bubbly feeling flow through you. 

You eventually pull away, needing to catch your breath. Drew’s lips are apart as he stares at you; the look in his eyes making it hard to steady your heartbeat. 

For seconds that felt like minutes, silence lingers between you two, eyes locked into each others’ as if any move, would disturb the calmness of this moment. 

Well, the moment is disturbed, because the smell of poop enters the air, as well as the sound of crying. 

Lil's awake, and in a stinky emergency.

You’re the first to pull away, chuckling as you glance down at Lil. “Shit.”

“Yup,” he purses his lips. You get ready to put the hotdogs down, wanting to help change her diapers, when Drew stops you. “I’ll do it.”

“Do I even have the appetite anymore?” You joke, the smile reappearing on Drew’s lips after hearing that. 

“When do you not?” He comments, setting Lil down and reaching for the diaper bag. 

You hit his arm playfully again, laughter coming out of you. You turn and look out onto the ocean waves, putting the hotdogs down to the side.

This moment right here? You want to remember it always. Remember this beach, this adorable little baby, this hotdog (just important as everything else), and this man, that you’ve found yourself to rely on more than you should. 

You hope Drew feels the same way too; that this moment right now, will forever be engraved in your heart. 

Little did you know; it's already engraved in his, as the moment he fell in love with you. 

The moment he realized, that you’re who he wants for the rest of his life. 

-------------------------------

word count: 1.5k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: my first time writing something of pure fluff...hope you enjoyed reading! i was in the mode for something sweet, craving a bf real bad T_T

and yes, im a creep that stalked his sister's ig to find the name of his niece. im sorry im sorry im sorry

[shrimpybbq]

green thumb

synopsis: high school gf loves her veggie garden and so does charlie. rafe is clueless and lacks a green thumb, but does his best to be supportive.

The warm sun shone through the windows of the Cameron house, it’s rays casting a golden hue across the spacious living room that currently housed half of the aforementioned Cameron family. The tall frame of Rafe Cameron lay horizontal on the plush couch, his arms wrapped protectively around the small baby atop chest. His sweet little girl had only been born a few months ago, but she was already growing too fast for his liking. Each day was so precious to Rafe, knowing Emmy would never be this small again, so he cherished the mundane moments like this one, letting her use his chest as a mattress for as long as she wished. He basked in the rise and fall of her chest, the little grunts she let out as her dreams took place.

Rafe had been on the couch for an hour or so, letting his wife spend time with Charlie. The young boy loved his sister, but becoming a big brother was challenging. He was no longer the main focus of his parents and growing used to sharing the attention had been troubling for the boy. He would pout when his mother left his side to feed his sister, clinging tearily to her sleeve. It broke both Rafe and his wife's heart, and the pair knew they needed to do something to make Charlie know he was still just as important as before. That was when they noticed how much the little boy loved his mother's veggie garden. He was always trying to follow his mother outside, eager to play in the soil and spend time with his favourite person.

Each morning, the young mother would climb out of bed silently, her footsteps softly padding across the carpet in an attempt to not disturb the sleeping baby in the room. A soft kiss to her daughter's forehead before she disappeared outside to her veggie garden. At Tannyhill, the girl had grown a few herbs - chives, rosemary, thyme - that sort of thing. Rafe had never really noticed until one day he caught her sneaking out, and thinking the worst he followed her. He had frozen when instead of seeing her leaving the property or meeting another man, she had crouched down in front of the old neglected herb garden. Rose had tried to grow some herbs at one point before giving up on her faux housewife act, and Rafe had never really paid attention to what remained. His curiosity peaked as he watched his girlfriend gently water the soil and pat it in place, humming quietly to herself. Content with knowing her whereabouts, Rafe quietly stalked back indoors, tucking the knowledge away in his mind.

When the family moved to their new home, he decided to surprise his now-wife with a special section in the backyard just for her. He'd spent a few hours one morning while she was in town building planter boxes, filling them with soil and setting up a hose nearby. Rafe was so excited to surprise her once she returned home, covering her eyes with his hands as he led her out to the yard. Little Charlie sat on her hip despite her pregnant belly, his hands clinging to his mother.

"Hey-hey! No peeking! Don't you dare," Rafe muttered as she tried to move her head away.

"Just tell me, please?" She begged, growing impatient. It didn't help that Rafe's guiding skills left a lot to be desired.

"Just know that you're gonna like it, 'kay?"

When his hands dropped away from her eyes, she gasped softly. The perfect little garden set-up stood in front of her, all ready to go. Eyes wide, she turned to Rafe.

"Wha- how, I- how did you know?" She questioned incredulously. No-one had ever done anything like this for her. Rafe grinned down at her as his arm wrapped around her shoulders, tugging her into his frame.

"I have my ways," he drawled cheekily, "I did good, huh?"

He watched as she nodded, turning to Charlie, "Should we go have a look?" The little boy nodded and Rafe stood on proudly as his wife and son went to investigate the new garden.

Rafe noticed Emmy stirring, the girl beginning to grumble as her hunger grew. He knew she needed to be fed or soon, the whole neighbourhood would hear the girl's screams. As he slowly pandered out to the yard, his eyes fell upon his wife and the small blond boy crouched at her side. With a watering can in one hand, Charlie gently delivered water to the small carrot and tomato plots. He squealed in excitement as his mother praised him for his effort, gently patting the soil around the growing vegetables as she did the same. Rafe looked at the two proudly, wishing he didn’t need to interrupt them, but alas, little Emmy began to whine loudly, catching the attention of her mother. She turned around quickly to see the small girl baby tucked securely in her father’s arms, and stood up.

“Hungry?”

“Don’t you know it,” Rafe grunted. He handed Emmy over to his wife’s outstretched arms.

“She’s just like you, never full,” she sighed, exasperated, before undoing the oversized button up of Rafe’s she wore.

The pair settled into a moment of comfortable silence as their daughter latched, her little hands reaching to cling to the shirt lapels. Calm spread but only for a moment.

“Daddy! Look! Strawberry!” Charlie shouted. Rafe stalked over to his son and crouched down to match his height. It was almost comical to see such a tall man make himself so small, especially when he couldn’t control the expression of slight discomfort covering his face.

“Wow bud, look at that… did you and your mama do that?” Rafe grinned as Charlie nodded, pleased with himself. Rafe had never fully been able to get into the groove of gardening, finding the waiting too painful to ever properly enjoy the art. But for his son, he would do anything - and so he played along. He would ask questions, get his son to show his new plants, praise his little sprouting vegetables and make sure his son knew he was proud of him. He wasn’t above forgetting which seed plot was which, but he tried. For a few moments, silence blanketed the family as an engrossed Charlie continued to tend to him plants.

“Mama and I have carrots too!” The boy exclaimed.

“Oh yeah? When are we gonna eat them, little man? How much longer until they’re ready?” Rafe asked, reaching his hand out to steady Charlie as he began to lean over the garden. Charlie looked up at his mother questioningly, the woman now seated on the bench nearby. She hummed softly as she thought for a moment,

“Maybe another month or two? We only planted them last week, C.”

The boy returned his gaze to Rafe, smiling at his father. Rafe looked down at his mini-me, sighing as he picked the boy up in his arms, standing and walking over to his wife. She had finished feeding Emmy now, and had the sweet little girl resting against her chest.

“Good thing we still have a grocery store nearby, huh?” Rafe chuckled, “Not gon’ starve.”

He grimaced at the sudden pinching sensation against his bicep, High School Gf sending a glare to him as she pulled her hand away. Shit.

“But hey - once those carrots are ready, we should make a big salad. You know that one you like, bud? We can make it for dinner one night. How’s that sound?” The momentary anxiety was evident in the way Rafe quickly spoke, desperately hoping to avoid a meltdown from the toddler. He was at an age where his sensitivity was high.

“Promise, daddy? And we have ice cream after?”

Both Rafe and High School Gf exhaled with relief. Crisis averted. Rafe nodded down at his son and when the boy extended out his pinky finger to affirm their promise, he grinned.

“Pinky promise, C.”

the pure domesticity of this would be sickening to the old rafe lol

[foreverisntenough]

‘Movie Night’

Summary: If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend.  You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy? 

Index:

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [ smut, slight mention of dv, loss of a parent, drinking - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!

Disclaimer: No one is crazy about him atm, me included, so this is strictly for my readers and my readers only. I don’t condone his behavior at all -Just let me finish out this fic please. Don’t come for me. I’m only a girl with a google doc whose spent hours upon hours and days on end on this fic

Chapter 9 - Waiting | ‘Movie Night'

word count - 11.8k

You could feel the party roaring on, its energy vibrant and chaotic in the distance as you slipped out of the bathroom with Trent, hearts still racing. The hallway was dimly lit, a contrast to the pulsing lights spilling in from the main room. You smoothed your hair and adjusted your skirt, trying to steady your breathing and regain composure, but Trent was having none of it. Walking just a step behind you, he slipped his hand under your skirt one last time, his fingers grazing your thigh before giving your ass a firm squeeze. The touch sent a shiver through you, your cheeks heating as you whipped your head around to glare at him.

"T!" you whispered, half-scolding, though your voice was laced with a breathless laugh. He leaned in, his lips brushing your ear as the noise from the party almost drowned out his words.

"Thank you for conceding. I was dying, baby." He smirked. You giggled, swatting at his hand to shoo him away. 

"Get off," you whispered again, but the playfulness in your tone betrayed you. “You’re welcome though.” You giggled as you walked further down the hallway, closer to where the rest of the party unfolded.

"I'm keeping my eye on you, yeah?" he hummed, his voice low and teasing. He winked, his hand lingering just long enough to squeeze yours tenderly, the contrast between his touch and his earlier intensity making your heart flutter. With a small, knowing smirk, you drifted back into the crowd, feeling his gaze follow you as you melted into the masses. You didn't need to turn around to know he was watching-he always was. Separating in the chaos of the party, it felt like a secret tether still held you together, pulling you back even when you were apart. You spotted Layla across the room, leaning into an intense conversation. Her laughter echoed above the music, but the second she caught your eye, she excused herself and made a beeline toward you, excitement lighting up her face. She didn’t hesitate, grabbing both of your arms.

“Excuse me….Did you actually just fuck Trent Alexander-Arnold in the loo?” she whispered, her grin widening as she looked at you expectantly, a bit in disbelief. You couldn’t help but smirk, trying to stifle a laugh. 

“Mmhm,” you hummed, a guilty glint in your eye. “Layla….It was…” You began to recount the affair but she cut you off.

“Jesus, this is wild,” she muttered, almost to herself, as if processing it out loud. “I can’t believe this. You’re—this is Trent. And you,” she emphasized, poking your arm, “you and Trent were in a bathroom and you’re sucking him off now? How did we get here?” The two of you dissolved into a fit of giggles, the energy between you bubbling over as you shared every hidden detail and guilty laugh. And somehow, between the laughter, you ended up spilling the parts you’d barely even admitted to yourself.

“It’s… I don’t know. There’s so many sides to it with him. There’s this, like, spontaneous, messy, public-side of things where I’m sending him nudes and he’s meeting me in the bathroom for sex. Like you watched it unfold. The tension is so thick.” You blushed, a little buzzed warmth spreading as you recalled the night’s earlier escapade and all the teasing that led to it. “And then, when it’s just us, alone… I don’t think I’ve ever felt so connected to someone. Like it feels so… I feel so… seen.” You told her. Layla raised an eyebrow, her smile softening as she nodded, seeing a depth in your expression that went far beyond the thrill of a secret. 

“Wow… so you’re proper into him, not like the idea… it’s not the years of build up, but like him as a person, right now, you’re down for him,” she said, almost in awe that things had finally come into fruition. You nodded slowly, cautiously realizing it was true. 

“It’s more than just the sex too…” you trailed off, but she finished the thought for you, nodding again.

“Way more.” She told you, confirming she understood. She tried not to pout at you. If you told your younger self this was happening she’d probably scream. You both fell into a comfortable silence, letting it all sink in. But then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw him—Jack, your brother, entering the room, his usual wide grin plastered on his face as he chatted easily with the girl, Megan, he was seeing. The moment you saw him, a pang of guilt swept through you, knocking the breath from your lungs. Jack had been so carefree tonight, so… oblivious. It almost made it worse. He had no idea, and the secrecy felt like a weight pressing down on you. Layla seemed to notice the shift in you immediately, slipping an arm around you in a comforting side hug. 

“You know… he’d want to know,” she whispered, her tone gentle. You looked at her, brows furrowing with doubt. 

“Would he really though? I mean, this is Jack we’re talking about... And me… and Trent.” You wryly smiled. She gave a small laugh.

“Okay, maybe not the details you just gave me,” she admitted, nudging you playfully. “But yeah, I think he’d want to know in general. Especially since you’re saying this isn’t just… bathroom hookups and sneaking around.” You bit your lip, eyes drifting back to where Jack was laughing without a care. The two of you never kept things from each other. And hiding something this big, this serious—it felt wrong. Layla, noticing your conflicted expression, gave your arm a gentle squeeze.

“It’s not like you’re keeping it from him to hurt him, same as you didn’t do that with me,” she said quietly, a touch of sympathy in her voice. “But… you’re really in deep, babe. And if things with Trent are what they seem to be… then Jack probably deserves to know. If only because he’s your brother.” You nodded slowly, her words hitting closer than you wanted to admit. It was true—you didn’t just want the thrill, the excitement of being with Trent. You wanted the real parts too, the ones that lasted beyond the whispers and the hiding. But if that was what you wanted, then hiding didn’t make sense anymore.

Leaving the party felt like slow, deliberate torture. Every step away from Trent was a struggle, a quiet war between what you wanted and what you knew you couldn’t have tonight. The air outside was cool, biting against your skin as you walked toward the car with Jack and Megan, but the warmth of Trent’s hand brushing against yours one last time still lingered like a ghost. Megan gave him a quick hug, her laugh ringing out as she pulled away, while Jack dapped him up with a playful comment about seeing him later. Then it was your turn. His eyes softened when they met yours, filled with a tenderness he couldn’t show in front of your brother. He pulled you into a slow, lingering hug, wrapping his arms tightly around you as if trying to silently convey everything he couldn’t say out loud. You buried your face into his chest for a brief second, inhaling his scent, before forcing yourself to pull back. Jack and Megan were already turning toward the car, their backs to you, but you felt exposed, like the hug alone had been too much. Trent leaned in, pressing a kiss to your cheek, and when you looked up at him, your eyes were glassy, emotions threatening to spill over. He tilted his head, his gaze steady but soft, and mouthed, ‘Go on.’ The words felt heavier than they should have. They weren’t a command—they were permission, an unspoken reassurance that he’d still be there, waiting, even if you had to walk away right now. Your throat tightened as you nodded, stepping back reluctantly and turning toward the car. Every step was agony. You could feel his eyes on you, and you knew if you looked back, you’d break and the secret would be out or worse… maybe he wouldn’t be there. The pull to run back to him, to grab his hand and leave together, was almost unbearable, but you kept moving. The distance between you grew, and with it, the ache in your chest deepened. Sliding into the car beside Jack and Megan, you stared out the window, biting the inside of your cheek to keep your emotions in check. The vibration of your phone broke the silence, and you didn’t need to look to know who it was.

'Call me when you get home. Pls xx.'

The text made your heart ache even more. You wanted nothing more than to be with him, to skip the pretending and sneaking around. But instead, you pressed your head against the cool glass, the world outside shifting into a blur.

You said goodnight to Megan and Jack, leaving them in the kitchen, their playful banter filling the space as they shared slices of late-night pizza. Their laughter echoed down the hallway, warm and light, but it only deepened the ache in your chest. It was a reminder of something you couldn’t have—not right now, not openly. In your en suite, you began the ritual of taking off your makeup, your reflection staring back at you with tired eyes and a growing sense of loneliness. The muffled sound of Megan and Jack’s laughter still carried through the walls, a sharp contrast to the silence of your own thoughts. You felt disconnected, like you were watching life happen around you while standing just outside of it. The ache in your chest swelled, and for a fleeting moment, you wondered if Trent had really meant it when he asked you to call. Was it just something he said to soften the blow of walking away? You tried to convince yourself it didn’t matter. But it did. You wanted him—his voice, his presence, his reassurance. Before you could second-guess yourself, you picked up your phone, scrolling to his name. Your thumb hovered for just a moment before you pressed Call. The line didn’t ring for long before he answered, skipping the formality of a greeting altogether.

“You in bed f’me, pretty girl?” His voice was low, velvety, and full of mischief, but beneath it, there was a warmth that made your chest tighten. The familiarity of it washed over you, melting away the doubt you’d felt just moments before. You couldn’t help but smile, even though he couldn’t see it. 

“Maybe I am,” you teased softly, leaning against the bathroom counter. Subconsciously pushing your boobs together as if for him, as if he was there. 

“Don’t play coy, baby,” he murmured, the sound of his voice alone enough to make you feel less alone. “Tell me. Are you in bed, waiting for me to call and say goodnight?” He asked you sweetly but there was an undercurrent of seduction. The idea of him in your bed had your imagination running wild with the things you wish you could do right now. You let out a small laugh, the tension of the night loosening ever so slightly. 

“Not yet. I’m still getting ready.” You cooed softly.

“Hmm,” he hummed, the sound deep and indulgent. “Take your time, yeah? Then get comfy for me. I’m not hanging up.” His confidence wrapped around you like a blanket, making you feel safer than you had all evening. You leaned against the counter, letting his voice fill the quiet space, hoping this call would stretch long into the night. You kept him on the line, the sound of his voice soothing you as you moved through your nighttime routine. It was easy to let yourself get lost in his casual tone, the way he teased and spoke to you as if nothing about this situation was out of the ordinary. But that’s what gnawed at you—you hated how okay he seemed with it all. The sneaking, the hiding, the distance. It was second nature to him, and it made you feel like maybe you weren’t as different as you thought. Finally, you crawled into bed, pulling the blankets tight around you as though they could replace his warmth. The emptiness of the space beside you felt glaring, and you couldn’t shake the longing. You closed your eyes, willing yourself to be content with just the sound of his voice.

“Y’alright, baby?” Trent’s voice was softer now, his playful edge giving way to genuine concern. You hesitated, trying to swallow the lump in your throat.

“Yeah,” you lied, though your tone betrayed you.

“Don’t do that,” he murmured, his voice a quiet plea. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?” He asked a question he already knew the answer to. You let out a sigh, your emotions threatening to spill over. 

“I just… I hate this,” you admitted, your voice cracking slightly. “I hate that you’re not here. I hate that we can’t just be normal. I hate that I feel like this while you seem… fine.” The line was silent for a moment, his breathing the only sound. 

“You think I’m fine?” he finally asked, his voice tinged with disbelief. “Y/N, I’m trying to keep it together because if I don’t, I’ll go mad. You think I don’t hate this too? That I don’t wish I could be there with you right now?” You swallowed hard, your heart twisting at his words. 

“Then why are you so okay with it?” You snapped a bit harsher than you meant to. Maybe it was the liquor or maybe you genuinely were annoyed. 

“I’m not,” he said firmly. “I’m not okay with it at all. I just—” He paused, struggling to find the words. “I hate seeing you upset. I hate knowing you’re there alone. But what am I supposed to do? Show up at your place with Jack there? Ruin everything?” His voice softened, a raw vulnerability creeping in. “I miss you, baby. So much it’s driving me insane. But this is how it has to be.” He cooed as tears slipped down your cheeks as you clutched the phone tighter. 

“I just want you here,” you whispered. You really weren’t sure if this was fueled by liquor or love. You felt like you could taste the tequila though. You could hear his sigh, feel the shared frustration hanging in the air between you.

“I know,” he whispered back, his voice thick with emotion. “Me too.” The silence stretched between you, heavy with longing and frustration. He tried to comfort you, whispering soft reassurances, but it did little to ease the ache of his absence. Nothing could. You closed your eyes, listening to the steady rhythm of his voice, pretending it was enough. 

“I wish I was with you. You can’t imagine how hard this is for me. Maybe we could’ve just—” He began to talk but you interrupted him.

“But we can’t, we’ve said that… I know” you snapped again, cutting him off harshly though your tone softened immediately after as you added a confessional. “I’d give anything to be with you right now.” You whispered meekly. 

“Well,” he murmured, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver through you, “I’m still here, baby. Maybe not how we want… but I’m not going anywhere.” He reassured you.

“Promise?” you whispered, clutching your phone a little tighter, feeling silly but needing to hear him actually say it. 

“Promise,” he said gently, like it was the easiest promise he’d ever make. A warmth flooded through you at the thought, as though you’d somehow erased the space between you. Even as you said goodnight, you could still feel him with you, his voice lingering in your mind long after you’d both hung up.

Leaving the party separately had been a harsh reminder of what you were hiding, a chasm between the life you had with Trent and the life you wanted. On the outside, you tried to act like it was fine—just some casual, lighthearted fling—but inside, you knew better. You felt yourself slipping deeper into something real with him, you heard yourself admitting things to him over the phone you probably shouldn’t have. That you missed him, you wanted him, all of it and it terrified you as much as it thrilled you. But for Trent, maybe that weight felt different. He was in deep with you too, but he couldn’t shake that you were Jack’s little sister. It added a whole other layer, a silent complicating factor neither of you could ignore. So when you invited him over for a night in, hoping you’d have a rare moment of normalcy, you half-expected him to agree. Just for once, you wanted him to choose you without hesitation. Not have him in control. You wanted to take the reins for a change, feel like equals in this. But that same night, Noah invited the boys for a movie, it was as if all your unspoken fears were confirmed. Trent texted you back, saying he’d already agreed to go to Noah’s. He tried to explain it, to make it seem like he was doing it ‘for’ you but there was no reasoning that made it make sense.

'If I disapear too much the lads will start asking questions, yk?' 'Just trying to keep things lowkey' 'Can't risk you, baby' 'You understand, yeah?'

As much as you tried to rationalize it—remind yourself that he was being practical, maybe even protective—it still stung. You felt like you’d been put back in a box, hidden away for the sake of convenience. The ache of not being chosen sat heavy in your chest, wrapping around your heart as the minutes passed, and you couldn’t ignore the sting of it. You’d never asked for much: just for him to show up, to be with you for one night in a way that didn’t involve excuses or sneaking around. It was sneaking around but at least you were the one orchestrating it. You wanted him to want you enough to choose you over everyone else. Sitting alone in your room, you considered texting him back. Your fingers hovered over the screen, wondering if you should tell him how you felt—that it wasn’t just about wanting his company, but needing him to prioritize you, even if just for a night. But you didn’t. You were too afraid of saying too much, of sounding needy, or worse—of pushing him away. You’d already felt like you’d let him know too much. 

Instead, you set your phone aside, biting back the words that threatened to spill out. The silence felt like it was swallowing you whole, and your room suddenly felt unbearably empty. You laid back against your pillow, staring up at the ceiling, trying to let the quiet lull you into some kind of acceptance. You told yourself he was just being practical, that he was trying to be careful, but it didn’t stop the feeling of being second. You wanted to be the person he chose without having to justify it, without having to feel like an afterthought or a secret tucked away out of convenience.

Hours passed, and the room grew colder, but your thoughts wouldn’t relent. You tried to remember the good moments, the way he held you close when you woke up together, the way he whispered in your ear with that effortless charm. You tried to replay those memories in your head, hoping they’d soften the ache, but all they did was remind you of what was missing right now. It wasn’t just the thrill of sneaking around or the excitement of a late-night rendezvous. It was him—all of him. You wanted his laughter, his warmth, his undivided attention, and his willingness to show up for you without needing a reason or an excuse. It hurt to realize that as much as you both felt something real, this still felt fragile. It was so precious and yet so precarious, a relationship built on stolen moments and hushed promises, kept alive by the hope that maybe one day it would be more. You wondered how much longer you could go on like this, hiding, hoping, feeling torn between the undeniable attraction and the fear that you’d always come second. A pang of hurt riffled through your chest wondering if you’d be strong enough to even get out of this. You wanted to be with him, and you wanted him to feel the same way without holding back. But tonight, lying there alone, you couldn’t ignore the whispering doubts that crept into your mind. Maybe this was all it would ever be—a secret romance, hidden away, safe from the prying eyes but not from the ache of feeling like you were only a part of his life when it was convenient. And as much as you wanted to deny it, a part of you wondered how long you could keep going like this, waiting for the day he’d choose you openly, without hesitation, without excuses.

The silence had grown too heavy, and the second you texted Layla, she was on her way over, sensing the need for support without question. Minutes later, she arrived, all energy and anticipation, ready for a debrief. You couldn’t help but spill everything—how Trent had chosen a night with the boys over time with you, his excuses about ‘keeping things low-key,’ and how much it had stung to feel like you were being hidden, set aside when convenient. Layla’s temper flared but she bit her tongue and let you continue on. But as you wrapped up, Layla’s eyes glimmered with a knowing smirk and a plan. 

“If he wants to pie you off for the lads… remind him of all the ways you aren’t one of them, why you’re the better option. His only option.” She shifted on the bed, crossing her arms as she raised an eyebrow. 

“Lays…” You laughed, but there was caution in your tone as you murmured her name, sensing where she was going.

“Call him right now.” She leaned in, her voice firm and commanding. “He likes games so much—let’s play one,” she added with a mischievous glint, and you couldn’t help the grin that broke out. You adjusted yourself on the bed, propping up your phone as she settled in beside you, giving you a conspiratorial nod. Your fingers hovered over Trent’s name, your nerves buzzing with a mix of excitement and anticipation. You hit the call button, and after a few rings, he picked up. You lounged back against the pillows, your phone resting on speaker between you and Layla. She was biting her lip to suppress her giggles, her eyes sparkling with mischief as you waited for Trent to answer. When Trent saw your name flash on your phone, his heart skipped a bit. He wanted to answer but he couldn’t, Jack was on the other end of the couch. He was swift darting out the room. When he finally did pick up, now safely tucked in the lonely confines of Noah’s kitchen, his voice was soft, quiet, laced with distraction. 

"Y’alright, baby," he greeted, sounding casual, completely unaware of what was about to hit him.

“Hi," you replied, your voice a sultry purr. You knew exactly what you were doing. "I didn’t expect you to pick up with the movie and all…What are you up to?" you asked. 

"Nah, you know I’d always pick up your call," he answered, the faint hum of voices and a movie’s score blaring in another room audible in the background.

"Hmm," you hummed, dragging the sound out just enough to catch his attention. You glanced at Layla, who was already covering her mouth to muffle her laughter. "I've just been lying here... feeling so bored today." Trent didn't pick up on it immediately, his voice still distracted. 

"Yeah? What've you been doing, pretty girl?" He asked aimlessly, just happy to hear you talk. Your lips curved into a devilish smile, and you decided to drop the bomb. 

"Nothing much, haven’t left my bed really" you murmured, keeping your tone soft, teasing. "Just... thinking about you. All day. It's been driving me crazy." You cooed teasingly. There was a pause, a sharp inhale on the other end. 

"What?" His tone shifted instantly, the casual air replaced by something much more focused.

"I've been so horny, baby," you whispered, your voice low, almost a whine. "And now I'm all alone, just... lying here. Thinking about you." You whimpered. “What we’d be doing.” You doubled down and Layla made a face shocked at how easily this all flowed out of your mouth. Trent went completely silent for a moment. You could picture him, frozen in place, probably running a hand over his jaw as he tried to process your words. When he finally spoke, his voice was rough, strained. 

"You can't be saying stuff like this to me right now." He told you as his brain continued to be scrambled. 

"You're not here so I wanted to call. What else am I supposed to do? Just sit here... you know what they say about idle hands," you teased, dragging your words out with a playful lilt.  Layla clapped a hand over her mouth, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter. You glanced at her, grinning, and decided to push a little further. "I even thought about calling you earlier, but I didn't want to bother you while you were with the boys. I mean...” You let out a soft, breathy sigh. "You clearly had other priorities but I just… wanted to be reminded of your voice in my ear." You moaned feigning sexual indignation. That did it. 

"Babyyyy," Trent groaned, his tone a mix of frustration and desire. "Stop playing with me." He ran his hand over his hair trying to not get too excited by your words, his joggers were beginning to tent. He was still at Noah’s house but he was about ready to get in his car right now. 

"Who says I'm playing?" you countered, biting your lip to keep from laughing. "I'm just... lonely. I mean, I'm wearing that little top you like. Or... I was." You told him a blatant lie. Layla’s eyes widened, shaking her head, looking at you fully covered up in a jumper.  You heard him curse softly under his breath, the faintest sound of a chair scraping as he moved. 

"Why are you doing this to me?" he muttered, his voice lower now, raspier.

"I’m not doing anything. You're just not here," you shot back, your tone both teasing and genuine. "And I wanted you to know that I really… really… wish you were." You taunted him.  Trent groaned again, louder this time. You could hear the faint shuffle of movement on his end.

"Where are you?" he asked suddenly, his voice tense.

"I told you, I’m in bed," you replied, leaning back and letting your voice drop dripping with faux innocence. "All by myself. Thinking about you." You confirmed the lie once over as Layla scoffed. 

"Jesus Christ," Trent muttered. You could picture him now, pacing the kitchen, probably running a hand over his hair in frustration. And you were correct. He was doing just that trying to figure out what to do right now. Layla gave you a sly grin.

"Well," you said, dragging out the word, "then I guess I'll just have to keep myself company. Maybe I’ll send you a picture of what I’m up to while you’re at Noah’s?" You suggested.

"Baby" he warned, his voice sharp. But there was a tremor in it, a crack that told you exactly how much he wanted you to follow through. He couldn’t handle this, his head was on mars.

"Oh, but I thought you liked that, when I sent you photos, didn’t you?" you mocked him. If he wanted movie night with the boys so badly, you were going to make it hell. Send him the nastiest picture you had yet while he had to sit there on his hands. It felt good to have the power shifting.  "You don’t want to see me?" You asked feigning innocence.

“Pretty girl, I am dying here…. Please. Don’t do this to me.” He begged you. He wanted a photo of you more than anything in the world. But the idea of having just to sit on it. Doing nothing with it was excruciating. What was he meant to do here? He was on the phone in the middle of the film, if he left now… what would his excuse be but… you were home alone, he wanted to be there. 

"Hmm, maybe. You always ask me to be a good girl for you… Why couldn’t you be good for me once. Just for tonight." You cooed teasingly. That’s all you wanted was tonight- wasn’t too much but now he’d pay.

"I'm always good for you," he shot back without hesitation, the heat in his voice making Layla raise her eyebrows at you in mock disbelief.

"Are you?" you teased, shifting in bed and letting your voice drop to a softer, more tempting tone. "Because if you were, you wouldn't have left me all alone tonight for the boys." Trent groaned again. He really regretted his decision. He thought he was doing this to benefit your relationship. And now he realized that he didn’t give a shit about what the boys thought, he wanted to be there with you. 

“Nah, baby fuck them. I’ll come over right now. Swear. I’m sorry, baby. I want to come be with you. ” His voice had dropped, the suggestion loaded, as if he’d already started picturing it. Layla shot you a look, one that dared you to turn the tables even further. You bit your lip, taking the plunge. 

"Well, it’s too late now. You're with them, and I'm here alone." You dragged out the last word, knowing exactly what it would do to him. Your lips curled into a satisfied smirk. 

“Don’t.” He threatened you. He pretended to hit his head against the cupboard in front of him. He was regretting every decision up until this point. He felt so stupid but he wasn’t keen on letting you play with him like this. 

"Don't what?" you asked innocently, twirling a strand of your hair between your fingers. "Don't tell you that l've been lying here, thinking about you? That l've been imaging all the ways your hands would be on me, all the ways I could’ve been good for you?" You taunted him. Layla flopped on the bed squeezing your leg shocked that you went this far. 

"Baby, you're killing me," Trent muttered, his frustration palpable. Layla shot you a grin and mouthed, ‘keep going.’ 

"I think I'll take a long, hot shower," you mused aloud, your tone thoughtful but teasing. "Let the water run over me, help me relax after such a long, lonely night." Trent cursed softly under his breath, and you could hear the faint sound of him shifting.

"I'm coming over, baby. Enough," he declared suddenly, his tone firm, decisive.

"No, it's okay," you said quickly, trying to sound casual even as your heart raced. Layla gestured wildly, as if to say ’this is what we wanted.’ She wanted you to break him down to a begging point and you’d gotten there, actually coming over though and giving him best of both worlds? Not going to happen. “Seriously, it's fine," you continued, trying to keep the upper hand. "I'll just shower, maybe do some online shopping. Pick out something... special for maybe some upcoming plans..." Trent let out a low, guttural groan that made your stomach flip.  He shook his head to gain some composure. He needed to get a grip but all the visuals you were giving we’re sending him into orbit. He took a deep breath before his next words. His controlled demeanor returning.

"Yeah? How about you get something for when I come over next, hmm?” Trent's voice dropped a little, thick with anticipation. “Be a good girl, I’ll send you my card, just something special only for me?" He murmured, his tone laced with a possessive edge that sent a thrill through you. Layla looked at you admittedly having a hard time turning down the offer. Maybe you could do both. You bit your lip, pretending to consider his suggestion. 

"Maybe," you teased, letting the word hang in the air. "But only if you're lucky."

"I'll make sure I'm lucky," he shot back, his voice thick with determination. "You just wait for me, baby. Then, I'm gonna make you feel like the luckiest girl in the world. Promise." He told you. “Just f’me baby.” He pleaded.  

"Brooo, embarrassing!" Noah teased, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, his grin wide and taunting. Trent froze, his face heating as Noah burst into laughter.

"Fuck off," Trent snapped, his voice sharper than intended as he quickly turned his back to Noah, gripping his phone tighter. He was met with silence from your end, and for a second, his heart sank. He couldn't let Noah know it was you or worse his intrusion derail this moment.

"You're gonna be in my bed tonight, yeah?" Trent asked again, his voice quieter now, more serious, his heart pounding as he waited for your answer. On your end, you paused, savoring the power shift. You finally, for once had the upper hand. He was trying to get it back telling you matter of fact you’d sleep with him tonight but Layla gestured wildly, mouthing say no, keep him hooked, while you bit back a smirk.

"Hmm... I don't know," you mused, dragging the words out just enough to make him squirm. “I'm so tired." You told him. Trent was panicking. He couldn’t focus on the two simultaneous happenings. 

"Nah, nah,  nah, don't do me like that, bab– ," Trent blurted, his voice softening, but then he caught Noah's smirk out of the corner of his eye. He clenched his jaw, stopping himself after the first  syllable of ‘baby,’ trying to reel it back in. Noah raised an eyebrow, looking far too entertained by the scene.

 "Who is that? Who are we calling baby?" he pressed, stepping closer with mock curiosity. "Got you out here begging, bro." Trent shot him a glare but didn't take the phone away from his ear. 

"Nah." he just dismissed quickly, his tone defensive. “Girl I’m seeing.” He clarified waving Noah off, hoping that was sufficient to get him to leave. 

"No, seriously, who’s this? Who's got you acting like this," Noah continued, his grin growing, mocking Trent.

"Seriously, bro, fuck off," Trent repeated, trying to sound firm but feeling increasingly flustered. On your end, Layla was barely holding in her laughter, watching and listening to this unfold like a soap opera. 

"Looks like someone's been caught out down bad," she whispered, making you giggle softly.

"Stop it," you hissed at her, but your voice was playful, your smile betraying you.

"Baby," Trent said again, ignoring Noah entirely now as he refocused on you. His voice was a mix of pleading and frustration. "Don't make me wait. Please." Layla's eyes widened, interested in his response. You leaned back against your pillows, feeling victorious. 

"You seem to have company. You can text me and I'll think about it.” You teased, your tone light but noncommittal.

"Don't think too long," Trent shot back quickly, a hint of desperation slipping through his controlled exterior.

"Bro, she's got you wrapped so tight. I'm actually impressed." Noah, now sitting on a stool at the kitchen island for the show, bursting into laughter again. Trent groaned, running a hand over his face as he tried to ignore Noah. 

"Baby," he muttered into the phone before you hung up abruptly, not giving him a chance to get another word in. 

“Oh boy… You've got him wrapped around your finger, huh, even his boys are calling him on it.," Layla said, grinning, a mutual flare of victory behind her eyes. Noah smirked, watching as Trent tossed his phone onto the counter and leaned against it, visibly irritated and flustered.

"So, who is she?" Noah prodded once over. 

"Nah, mate…None of your business," Trent replied flatly, though his cheeks betrayed him, flushing with heat. 

"Oh, it's definitely my business now," Noah said, his grin widening. "I've gotta meet the girl who's got TAA tripping over himself like this. Jesus mate… Look at you.” He looked at Trent, eyes wide, almost falling into shock at Trent’s vulnerability. 

"Not happening," Trent muttered, already regretting how much he'd let slip. Meanwhile, back at your place, Layla threw herself onto you, giggling.

"Oh my God, that was perfect! Did you hear him?" She asked like a proud mum. You couldn't help but smile, your phone still warm in your hand. 

"Yeah," you said softly, the sound of Trent's voice still echoing in your ears. "I did." 

“Come on… calling her baby? begging her to get in your bed? How leng is she?” Noah asked Trent, laughing. Trent laughed with him but more out of nerves.

 “Yeah, she’s…” Trent paused momentarily really thinking about how to answer this. It was awkward. Noah knew exactly what you looked liked. They’d in fact had full conversations about Jack’s little sister… but that’s not who he was just on the phone with...and yet unfortunately, it was  “She’s my dream girl, mate.” Trent said it aloud, unable to stop the words falling out. The admission a vocal realization of how deep he was in. Noah’s laughter slowed, his teasing grin softening into something closer to curiosity. 

“Dream girl?” he echoed, eyebrows raised. “You’re proper in it, aren’t you?” Trent let out a nervous laugh, running his hands over his face as if to hide. Saying it out loud felt reckless, but he couldn’t take it back now.

“Uh yeah, man, I guess,” Trent muttered, shaking his head as if trying to shake off the weight of his feelings. “She’s… different. I’ve never felt like this about anyone.” Noah leaned back, crossing his arms, his grin lingering. 

“So, what’s the deal then? Why’re you sneaking around like this? If she’s that great, just bring her around.” Trent hesitated, glancing down at his phone. 

“It’s not that simple.” Trent told him ambiguously. Noah tilted his head, his curiosity sharpening. 

“Not that simple? What, is she married or something?” He let out a laugh, clearly joking, but Trent’s silence made him pause. “Oi, you’re serious? What’s going on here?”  He asked. Trent sighed, shaking his head. 

“She’s not married, man. It’s just… complicated. She’s not someone I can just bring around.” Noah studied him for a moment, his grin softening into something more thoughtful. 

“You’re not usually this cagey about girls, bro. What makes her so special?” Trent’s lips curved into a small, involuntary smile as he thought of you. 

“She’s… mate…” He groaned. “She's everything. But like… she knows exactly how to get under my skin, and I can’t even be mad at her for it. She’s just… s different.” He admitted. Noah’s eyebrows shot up once more. 

“Wow. Fuck. Outta nowhere. Sounds like she’s got you good. So, what’s the holdup? The boys’ll rinse you a bit, sure, but they’ll get over it.” Trent hesitated, glancing away. Noah was slightly confused considering Trent hadn’t been seeing anyone as far as he knew. Yet, suddenly the apparent love of his life existed and he was keeping mum. 

“It’s not the boys. It’s…” He trailed off, catching himself before he said too much. “It’s just… complicated,” he repeated. Noah would be lying if he said you didn’t pop into his head, Trent never was this reserved about girls except about you. He’d clam up in conversations just like this but he immediately dismissed the idea. No way. He raised an eyebrow one again, clearly unconvinced but deciding not to push further. 

“Alright, man. Keep your secrets. But if she’s really your dream girl, maybe stop overthinking it. Sounds like she’d be worth it.” He cooed. Trent nodded, grateful that Noah didn’t press further. 

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “She is.” As Noah walked out of the room, shaking his head with a chuckle, Trent stayed behind, his thoughts spinning. He hated how close he’d come to slipping up. The truth about you was something he wasn’t ready to share—not with Noah, not with anyone. He couldn’t. Pulling out his phone, he opened your message thread, his fingers hovering over the keyboard before typing:

'You drove me nuts calling me like that'

'I’m sorry I’m not with you tonight. Let’s change that though'

'I miss you, baby. Please'

'Come over tonight.’

'Pretty girl. WYA '

Hitting send, he sighed, wishing he could call you without all the secrecy. Wishing you were there with him now. You pouted at the messages. As confident as he was with you, as much pull as he had with you, he would go so soft. You frowned looking at Layla showing her the messages. She gave you a sympathetic smile knowing she was going to have to be the backbone here. You didn’t go to Trent’s that night, no matter how many times he asked. Each message pulled at your resolve, every word he sent tempting you to cave. But Layla wouldn’t let you. She sat cross-legged at the foot of your bed, her phone in hand, giving you an almost maternal look whenever you glanced her way.

“Tell him to enjoy movie night with the boys,” she instructed firmly, like she was holding you accountable. “And then put your phone down. He can wait. Let him miss you.” She told you. You sighed, pulling your knees to your chest as you stared at the screen. Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard, trying to find the right words, ones that didn’t feel like a lie or mean. But all you wanted was to give in. To text him back, I’m on my way, and go to him. To be held. To forget all the chaos and just feel normal again.

Instead, you typed:

‘Enjoy movie night with the boys. I’ll see you soon. xx’

As soon as you hit send, you regretted it. The moment felt cold, detached—nothing like what you were feeling inside. And then came the ache, that deep, gnawing ache in your chest that had settled there the first time you realized being with Trent wasn’t going to be easy.

“Good,” Layla said, leaning back on her elbows like she’d won a small battle for you. “Now, let’s watch something. Distract yourself. Get that boy off your mind for a minute” But you couldn’t. Not really. The night stretched on endlessly, punctuated by the occasional buzz of your phone.

'I wish you were here' 'Can we stop this already?' 'Please come over'  'Baby, I’ll make it up to you' 'Please'

Each text was a lifeline, pulling you closer to giving in. You stared at them for so long the screen dimmed, and Layla had to snatch the phone from your hands. 

“You’re torturing yourself. You told him no, and that’s it.” You shot her a look, but you knew she was right. This was the reality you were living now—pushing and pulling, holding back, trying to find some balance in the chaos. It was exhausting. When you finally climbed into bed that night, the ache in your chest still hadn’t faded. You stared at the ceiling in the dark, wondering if Trent was doing the same. The next morning, you woke up feeling groggy, as though you’d hardly slept at all. The weight of the night before hadn’t lifted. You reached for your phone out of habit, not expecting anything. It buzzed just as your fingers grazed the screen, and you nearly dropped it as Trent’s name lit up.

'Wish I got to see you last night.'

'Was going to swing by this morning but didn’t want to press' 'Boarding my flight now. xx'

You sat up, your stomach sinking as realization hit: you’d completely forgotten he had an away game. And now, you weren’t going to see him for days. The message was short, but you could feel the disappointment behind it. He had wanted to see you. Needed it, maybe. And now he was leaving without that reassurance, without that connection that only you could give him. What if he found comfort somewhere else now? What if all these games pushed him into someone else? Your heart clenched as you stared at the words, your thumbs hovering over the keyboard. What could you even say? The whole relationship was starting to feel like a tangled web—secrets, games, hurt feelings. It wasn’t what you wanted. You missed the simplicity of what it had been before. The ease, the honesty, the way you could just be together without second-guessing everything. You typed a response and deleted it twice, agonizing over every word. Eventually, you sent something simple, though it felt inadequate:

'I wish I’d seen you. Safe flight. xx'

As soon as it delivered, your stomach twisted. It wasn’t enough. It didn’t capture how badly you wanted to see him, how much you missed him already. But what else could you say? The distance—both physical and emotional—was becoming unbearable, and you didn’t know how to fix it. You lay back down, holding your phone to your chest. The ache was back, worse than before. You closed your eyes, wishing things could be different. Wishing you could be on that plane with him, just to be close to him, leaving the rest of the world behind.

Leverkusen two, Liverpool nil,… It’d been two days since you dangled yourself in front of Trent like a carrot only to snatch it all away. The problem was… though it felt good in the moment, the aftermath was proving to be worse than you could’ve ever anticipated. You hated that the way you’d left things was in a state of humor, a tease, pushing him away all for a game. When you found yourself in the living room of your house with Trent sat across the room after he’d returned the game you felt sick. His posture hunched and tense, every bit of him radiating frustration and disappointment. All the boys kept making jokes, each one hitting harder than they likely intended. His clenched fists and barely-contained sighs told you just how deep their words were cutting. They didn’t see the way his face fell, the flicker of pain that crossed his eyes with each jab. They didn’t see the way he kept glancing toward you, as though willing you to step in, to pull him out of this moment. You knew he wanted you to see him—to reach him. You wanted to be that person for him, more than anything. You were holding yourself back by sheer force of will, gripping the edges of the sofa with knuckles gone white, willing yourself not to move. Your mind was racing with everything you wanted to say to him, everything you’d have said if you’d just been alone. If no one else was there, you’d already be beside him, leaning into his shoulder, whispering words of encouragement and understanding. You’d have reminded him how talented he was, how one match didn’t define him, how you believed in him more than he could ever know. And maybe you’d even have let your guard down enough to hold him in your arms, the way he’d crave but never ask for. But here you sat, frozen, with your brother on the other side of the room and Jack and Trent’s friends filling the space, each of them blissfully unaware of the silent battle raging between you two. They could never understand the weight of restraint you were feeling. They laughed off his silence as sulking, making exaggerated comments about how he’d ‘bounced back by now’ or joking that he should ‘man up,’ ‘it’s one loss.’  It wasn’t the loss though. They had no idea what was really on the line, how much he was feeling, and how much you were holding back. Every few moments, Trent’s gaze would dart to you, quick and fleeting, with a look that made your stomach turn. It was the kind of look that was desperate, searching, like he was asking if you really cared about him, if you’d be willing to break the unspoken rules to be there for him in this moment. And you wanted to—God, you wanted to reach out and offer him some sliver of comfort. A part of him felt like this was a test, an opportunity. He was beginning to question if this was all a silly game to you. Were you just getting a thrill out of teasing him, making him act like a fool, beg for you, risk things for you… all of these things making him radically weaker. He didn’t want to be weak the way you were making him especially if you didn’t care in these moments. In these moments when he craved you most.  

Finally, he exhaled, a quiet, resigned sigh that felt like a blade slicing through the room. His shoulders sagged as though he’d decided it wasn’t worth hoping anymore, that he’d been foolish to expect more. You felt the shame tighten in your throat, guilt twisting like a knot in your stomach as you watched him swallow his frustration and put on a blank expression, tuning out the laughter and teasing around him. Without thinking, you offered him a small, apologetic smile, a silent reassurance meant only for him. It felt like such a feeble gesture, yet it was all you could give. And as you watched his face fall in response, you realized just how painful that distance was for him, how much he was holding onto every small hint of care you could offer. But it wasn’t enough. Not for him, and not for you. The weight of all the things left unsaid, all the unspoken feelings piling between you, felt unbearable. And in that moment, you knew that this wasn’t just about a bad game or hurt pride. This was about you and Trent, and the boundaries you’d set that had slowly turned from necessary to suffocating. You wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to hide this with you, that you wanted to be there for him no matter who was around, that he didn’t have to pretend everything was fine. But instead, you sat there, lips pressed together, feeling the gulf between you grow wider, the silence stretching and suffocating as you both stayed exactly where you were. You were so scared of Jack noticing the tension but Trent wasn’t even thinking about Jack anymore. He was thinking how when he used to come home after away games, a loss especially… he’d find solace in you. Whether it be a conversation, a cuddle, even a tease and now it had all been yanked away for what felt like in exchange for sex. Yes, the best sex of his life but nevertheless he missed you. His Y/N. You’d bring him comfort that no amount of women he’d fuck out of frustration post match could bring.  Little did you know for years you’d comforted him more after losses than anyone else.

Trent moved purposefully, his posture stiff and unyielding as he walked away from the group. He ignored the teasing laughs, barely acknowledging his friends’ calls for drinks as he made his way to the kitchen, his strides wide and determined, putting distance between himself and everyone else—especially you. His usual confident demeanor was gone, replaced by a heaviness that seemed to weigh down his every step. You offered to help. Your feet padding after him. You followed him, trailing a few steps behind, your heart hammering as you searched for the right words, the perfect gesture to make up for the comfort you’d denied him earlier. But as you reached the kitchen, you found yourself hesitating, feeling suddenly unsure. The kitchen lights cast a faint glow over him, and you caught the slight sag in his shoulders, the way his hands gripped the edge of the countertop, knuckles white with tension. He was trying to hold it together, to keep that wall up, even as everything inside him was breaking down. And for the first time, you saw that hurt so clearly it felt like a knife to the heart. Trent wasn’t just upset about the game, or the loss, or the teasing—he was hurting because you weren’t there. He felt isolated, the pain of the distance between you two evident in his face, like every unspoken word and touch denied had finally hit him all at once. When he turned and met your gaze, it was like every bit of his usual bravado melted away. His eyes were shadowed, raw with emotions he’d held back for so long, and suddenly he looked as vulnerable as you’d ever seen him. And there it was—strong, unwavering Trent, laid bare in front of you, and it wasn’t anger or frustration you saw, but hurt. He was hurt that he couldn’t lean on you, that the boundaries you’d put up for protection had left him feeling like he had no one at all. For years, you had been there for him, in your own subtle ways, always the one who could bring him back after a loss, the one who understood the weight he carried. Now, those small gestures were gone, replaced by a new silence, a void where there had once been comfort. And as he looked at you, you could feel the distance between you two more than ever, the painful shift from confidants to something hidden, fragile, undefined. 

“Trent,” you whispered, the word barely audible, your heart breaking as you watched his gaze fall, unable to meet yours. “I’m… I’m sorry.” For a moment, he didn’t respond, only letting out a long breath, his shoulders sagging further. He finally looked at you, eyes searching, filled with something that was equal parts need and resignation. Your reception was cold when you saw him earlier though . A far cry from what used to happen. You were overdoing the nonchalance  “I don’t know how to be there for you with Jack and them around.” You whispered cautiously looking back over your shoulder. Trent shook his head annoyed by the fear in your volume and posture.

“I always take care of you. Always. And just once I’m asking you to be there for me.”  He spoke to you harshly. His words felt like a yell in comparison to your whisper, though they stayed in the confines of the room. “Please” he muttered out meekly, almost as if he was begging for you and couldn’t stop himself from being so weak for you. His voice tinged with a vulnerability that tore at you. He hated this. Every bit of him ached for you but he was embarrassed by it. Your heart ached, the weight of his words settling over you like a fog, and in that moment, you understood. He didn’t want your apology; he just wanted you. Not in secret, not hidden, but fully and openly. And as the silence hung between you, you felt the depth of his loneliness—how he was standing here, hurting, because he felt he had to keep all of this to himself. It felt like you were choosing everyone else over him. You felt the tension begin to rise. 

“Trent….” You cooed gently, stepping forward. The kitchen island separating you two, worlds apart. He winced at your tenderness before you spoke again. His reaction to your gentleness the unsaid and said words of his, started to spark. Your own emotions about your situation getting the better of you “We’re nothing… How do you want me to act?” You explained trying to make it better. And there it was… nothing. All this fuss for nothing.  Your words cut deep. He let his eyes flutter closed. He felt his blood run cold. He felt like he wanted to be sick. This was awful. How did this happen? His place of comfort, you,  suddenly turned upside down and defined by you as nothing.  Your words hung in the air, slicing through the silence with a weight you hadn’t anticipated. Trent’s expression hardened, his mouth set in a tight line, the softness you’d seen just moments ago completely gone. He looked down, shaking his head in disbelief, almost as if he were absorbing the impact of what you’d just said. You caught yourself and tried to retract. “T… I don’t mean.” You stuttered before he cut you off. 

“Nah, it's cool. Noted. And apparently I’m the one pushing this relationship behind closed doors?” He taunted you. “You just told me I’m nothing to you.” He snapped. You felt like you were going to fall through the floors. His temper flared. Trent had returned. The soft lover boy you made him was gone and he wasn’t about to let you hurt him. “Nothing?” he repeated, almost unsure of the word's definition anymore. “That’s what this is to you?” The words came out with a raw, hurt edge. You could feel yourself faltering, his reaction unraveling the certainty you’d tried to build. There was a fragile tension between you two, a line you both knew you couldn’t keep walking forever, and now it was fraying with every passing second. Your stomach twisted painfully as his eyes flashed with anger, the softness you were so used to seeing in him now buried under layers of hurt. He took a sharp breath, his hands balled into fists as he steadied himself, like he was forcing every word through gritted teeth. “Nothing, yeah?” he repeated, his voice low and harsh, a sharp contrast to the tenderness he usually reserved just for you.

“I just…” you faltered, reaching out toward him, trying to find the words to make it right, but he stepped back, a bitter scoff escaping his lips. “Fucking at parties in the toilet isn’t any sort of commitment, the games… that’s not real. And that’s what it is… to you,” you muffled, recalling every moment you felt hidden away by Trent hammering home how small this must’ve felt to him, but right now, you were learning that wasn’t the case in his mind. 

“You think I’ve been doing all this for nothing?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, but the pain was clear. He seemed to be searching your face, looking for any sign that this hadn’t all been in vain, that he hadn’t been holding on for something that didn’t exist outside of stolen moments. “I’ve tried, over and over, to make you feel like this was real to me,” he murmured, his tone laced with frustration and disappointment. “But every time, it’s like… I’m not enough to make you believe it.”

“Trent, it’s not that simple,” you whispered, your voice cracking under the weight of it all. “I just said, I don’t know how to… be there for you when Jack is around, when everyone’s watching us. It’s just…” you trailed off, hating how small and helpless you sounded, knowing it only confirmed his worst fears.

“Nah, I get it.” His voice was laced with frustration, the pain visible in every gesture, every tightly clenched muscle. “So who’s the one hiding, really?” He was being mildly petty but it was steaming from real hurt. You felt a sting as his words hit you. He was right—he was right in a way that made you feel raw and exposed. You had let your fear take over, let it draw lines around a relationship you were too scared to fully step into. The gravity of what he was saying settled over you, pressing down on you with a weight you hadn’t anticipated. He exhaled, pressing his hands into the countertop, looking down as if trying to collect himself. “I know it’s not simple,” he said, a bitter edge to his voice. “But I just… I thought you felt something. I thought we both wanted this.” You could feel yourself trembling, caught between your fear of losing him and the reality of what being with him meant. It wasn’t that you didn’t feel it—if anything, you felt it so deeply it scared you. But facing that truth meant giving up the safety of your old life, and it was that thought that made you hesitate, that kept you on the edge, unable to fully commit. He watched you hesitate. The pain rifled through his heart. He looked at you and sighed. “Baby…” He pleaded. “Do you have any idea what it’s like, seeing you every day and not being able to act like you’re mine?” Trent’s voice was softer now, almost a plea. “It’s… it’s hell. And I’m trying to be patient, but…” he stopped, his gaze locking with yours, his eyes holding a mix of hope and despair. “But I don’t know how much longer I can do this if I’m the only one who’s all in.” The weight of his words settled over you, making your chest tighten with a longing that threatened to pull you apart. You wanted to reach out, to reassure him, to tell him you did feel it, that he wasn’t alone. But the fear, the reality of what this all meant, held you back, leaving you paralyzed. It was confusing because it was so obvious there was a miscommunication but you couldn’t wrap your head around the idea that he genuinely believed he was the one all in. He wasn’t convinced you weren’t as in as he was. In that moment, standing on opposite sides of the kitchen, you could feel the distance between you both stretching further. Trent turned away slightly, letting out a shaky breath, and when he looked back at you, it was with a resignation that made your heart sink. He was tired of fighting for something that felt so uncertain, tired of giving his all only to feel like he was coming up short. He was feeling out of control.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that,” you whispered, desperate to explain, but Trent only shook his head, looking away as if he couldn’t bear to face you. “T… it’s unfair to say I’m not in this.” You tried to explain. “I don’t understand how I’m meant to show you… or to act differently with you don’t give me the space to do it, when you don’t want it. You don’t want me,” you muttered, you jaw tight. As you continued stating your defense, your reality started to come to light. And it was in sharp contrast to his. “You hiding me like a secret in your bed isn’t being all in.” You tried to explain and he shook his head. He was annoyed that your comment landed and while he understood it but he wouldn’t concede. “I said I’m sorry about tonight but you also could’ve come up to me. You could take what you want… I’m here Trent. I’ve been here.” You hiccuped feeling a lump in your throat form. It felt like you were drawing closer to a stalemate. It made you sick. You could feel it all closing in, what the only resolution would be. “Right now, all I feel is like I’m the one risking everything while you’re here upset at me for following your rules? You pull back the second I want to spend time alone with you, the second the boys might find out but then complain when I’m not on my knees for you, when I’m not a total mess the second you walk in. Waiting.” Your voice broke, and the crack in it cut through you deeper than any argument ever had.

“Maybe… maybe you’re right,” he finally said, the words coming out with a sadness that felt almost unbearable. “Maybe we are nothing.” He threw the word back at you. You felt tears prickling in your eyes, but you couldn’t find the words to make him understand, to make yourself understood. The silence between you grew heavy, and he let out a strained laugh, his voice tinged with bitterness. “You know, I thought you were the one person I could let my guard down with,” he said quietly, more to himself than to you. “I thought you were different. I thought… I thought you felt the same.” Trent felt sick. 

“Trent, please…” you reached out, but he stepped away, running a hand over his face, visibly trying to steady himself. His gaze fell back on you, guarded and hurt, the vulnerability replaced by a distance that made your chest ache. 

“I can’t keep doing this,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I can’t keep feeling like this is all in my head. You’re… You’re fucking with me. You’re hurting me. I just wanted you to be there for me. Tonight, be there for me. Stop toying with me.” He snapped, he seemed to fall back into anger and it made you upset. Toying with you? Was he serious? He couldn’t possibly be serious. 

“I’m fucking with you?” You asked looking for some clarity, to get on the same page but instead everything was blank and all you felt was just anger. The same anger he was feeling. The emotion fell over you fast and hard. He wanted to be done.  If he could accept this. If he could end this… you were in fact like all the others. Disposable. “You want me to be there for you?” You quipped back. Voiced raised. “Everyone thinks I’m obsessed with you, some stupid little girl with a crush on her brother's friend, yeah? That’s what they all think.” You could hear the desperation laced in your tone, the edge of frustration threatening to spill over.  The argument erupted like a dam breaking, years of unspoken words and hidden emotions rushing to the surface all at once. You hadn’t planned for this moment to unfold like this. You hadn’t planned for it at all. But now, the words poured out before you could stop them. Trent’s head jerked back slightly as if the words physically hit him. His jaw tightened, but he said nothing, letting you continue. “And for what? To be pied time and time again? To be hidden away like some dirty little secret?” Your voice broke, and the first tear escaped, but you refused to let yourself falter. “You put me behind closed doors, Trent. Because you’re afraid. So don’t you dare be mad at me for not being able to comfort you. You arranged this.” Trent’s eyes narrowed, his face a mix of hurt and disbelief. He stood rooted in place for a moment, his hands curling into fists at his sides as though he was trying to hold himself back. But he couldn’t.

“Arrange this?” His voice rose, his tone sharp and biting. “You think this is my fault?” He stepped closer, his frame towering over you, the hurt evident in every line of his face. “You kissed me, Y/N. You. Don’t stand there and act like this whole thing—this mess—is all on me.” The memory of that moment—the kiss you’d dreamed of, the one you thought would change everything—now twisted into something ugly. His words were a slap in the face, and the tears came faster now, blurring your vision as you tried to steady your voice.

“Did you not want me to?” you asked, your tone quieter now but no less challenging. Trent opened his mouth, but no words came out. His silence was deafening, a chasm furthering between the two of you. He looked away, his chest heaving, as if he couldn’t bear to meet your eyes. “Did you not want me to?” you demanded again, louder this time, your voice cracking under the strain. He still couldn’t answer. It was hard to put into words. There was a part of him that questioned if he had wanted you to in retrospect. Yes, he wanted to. He wanted to kiss you but if it meant getting to this place. He wasn’t so sure. You began to cry harder. His silence was deafening. And that was when the floodgates truly broke. “So if you didn’t want me to kiss you,” you said, your voice trembling but louder now, “then what is all this? Why drag me along? Why make me think there was something more?” Your chest heaved with every word, the pain of saying them cutting through you like a blade. “I’m not here for a season of yours, T,” you continued, your voice rising with each word. “I’ve been here your whole life. I’ve waited for you. I’ve waited for this. So you tell me, right now, do you just want the attention, or do you want me?” The kitchen fell silent, your words hanging in the air like a loaded weapon. Trent looked at you then, really looked at you, his eyes wide and his expression unreadable. His lips parted as though he was about to say something, but nothing came out. That silence—it wasn’t just awkward. It was unbearable. It was deafening. Finally, Trent exhaled, a long, shaky breath as he looked down, his hands flexing and curling at his sides. He felt like he was going to cry. He’d never made you cry until you started this whole thing and he wanted that back. 

“You’re not being fair,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, but there was no fight left in it. “You’re not being fair to me.” He looked at you honest and terrified. He could feel it all collapsing and there was no way to hold it up. 

“Fair?” you repeated, your voice breaking under the weight of your emotions. “Fair is the last thing this has ever been.” You quipped. Trent’s face twisted into something you’d never seen before—guilt, anger, heartbreak, all mixed into one. His hands moved to his head, dragging down his face in frustration. And then, without another word, he turned and walked away. You blinked, stunned, as you watched him head for the door, his steps heavy, his shoulders slumped “Trent…” you whispered, barely audible, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t want to fight for this version of you anymore.The sound of the door shutting behind him was final, reverberating through the silence like a death knell. The weight of it all hit you at once, your legs buckling beneath you as you sank to the cold floor. Your hands shook as you wrapped them around yourself, the tears coming faster now, sobs wracking your chest. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Trent was supposed to be your safe space, your person. But now, the relationship you’d built together, the moments you’d shared, felt like they were slipping through your fingers, dissolving into nothing. And as you sat there on the cold kitchen floor, your heart shattered, the question lingered, echoing in the silence: Had you just lost him for good?

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter or of what's to come!

Next part -Chapter 10 - So Different xx

[austeenbootler]

My girl.

- Nicholas chavez x y/n

-mention (not really) of fingering 🫣

~~~~~~~~~~

Nicholas 📱: coop can I come over? I don’t feel like driving all the way home 🙃

Cooper 📱: oh yea of course!! Guest room is all clean 🖤

Nicholas 📱: you’re a god send!

~~~~~

Nicholas smiled as he pulled into coopers driveway carefully parking so he wouldn’t block cooper in. He made no note of the strange car as he made his way to the front door unlocking it with the spare. He sighed in relief from the warmth and it smelled really really good. Like someone was cooking. But he knew cooper couldn’t cook to save his life. So he slowly made his way to the kitchen jaw dropping as he saw you. Tight baby blue shorts and an even tighter crop top. He could only see your back side but he just knew you were beautiful.

When you heard someone come closer to you, you whipped around knife in your hand. “Who the hell are you?!” Nicholas yelped throwing his hands up in defense. “N-Nicholas.” Even close to pissing himself he thought you were the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. “Woah you’re beautiful…” you smiled widely, putting the knife down immediately. “Aweee thank you! Want some soup?” It was nearly freezing outside, perfect weather for homemade soup. “God yes please.”

You nodded and poured three bowls setting them at the dinner table taking your usual spot. Nicholas took the spot across from you. “So… how do you know cooper?” You smiled around a spoonful. “We’ve been friends since kindergarten.” Nicholas’ eyes widened. “How come I’ve never heard about you?” Just then cooper came out of his room only in shorts. “Cause I knew you would hit on her. And she’s my little sister basically. So she is off limits.” Cooper missed your pout but Nicholas caught it. “Cooperrrrr… don’t be like they. I-” cooper put his hand up stopping Nicholas. “Did you even ask her name when you came in?” Nicholas sighed. He got him there. “No…” cooper smiled in satisfaction. “Let me guess she had a weapon on you and you called her pretty?” “Beautiful.” “Beautiful.” You both smiled at each other. “Jinx.” Cooper sighed massaging his temples. “Off limits Nicholas.” “Fine fine.”

But you saw that look in his eye. A glimmer of mischief that had your stomach flipping.

~~~~~~~~~

The next morning cooper had to leave for an audition. And you were left with Nicholas. Once you were sure cooper was long gone you giggled and padded over to the guest room knocking.

“Come in!” Honestly Nicholas was expecting cooper coming to say goodbye but he smiled widely when he saw it was you. You couldn’t help but coo at him. His hair was disheveled from sleep and his face a little puffy and red. “Do you care to know my name?” His face got even darker realizing he never asked. “I would honey.” You couldn’t help but blush at the pet name.

“Y/n.”

“Pretty name for a pretty girl.”

You smiled even wider. “Thank you Nicholas. So how do you know cooper?” You came and sat on the bed. “Mmm well we worked on a project together and we’ve been friends ever since. But I hear you take the cake. Little sister.” He had a goofy smirk on his face. “Yep that’s me. Lil sis. So you just visiting or?” “Why you want me to stay?” You jokingly rolled your eyes making him chuckle. “I was just super tired after work and I live far and cooper was closer. I usually do this a lot.”

“So I’ll be seeing you more often?” You internally cringed hearing how desperate you sounded. Play it cool. “Just wondering of course.” Nicholas smirked. “Yea you will. I hope to be seeing more of you.” You couldn’t help but smile at that. “Is that so? I’m usually here like every weekend. It’s like our tradition.”

“Mmm I’ll be sure to be extra tired on the weekends then.”

“Don’t let cooper catch on. I’m off limits pretty boy.” He smiled as you got up to go make breakfast. Your shorts had ridden up showing off your delicious curves. You could feel his eyes on them too. And it only took him about ten seconds to follow you to the kitchen. “Wow ten seconds. That’s a record.” Nicholas let out a soft chuckle, his cheeks heating up. “Didn’t want you to be alone… someone could break in.”

You smirked as you got out everything to make breakfast. “I think I’ll be fine. Had a knife to your throat in five seconds.” Nicholas smiled. “Yes that’s true… so what’s on the menu?”

“Mmmm… meat lovers omelette. Ham, bacon and sausage with cheese and bell peppers.” Honestly Nick was ready to get on one knee right then and there. A girl who could cook was his weakness. Plus you were gorgeous. Double trouble. “God that sounds amazing. Might have to hire you or marry you.” You let out a chuckle as you cut up the fresh bell peppers and sausage. “Woah there cowboy. You just learned my name.” But honestly the thought of marriage was nice… he put his hands up in defense. “My apologies honey. But seriously when did you learn to cook?” “My mama taught me. You know I have a cookbook too.” “Wait for real? That’s so cool!”

As you continued to cook Nicholas went and bought about five books from the website. “So like what’s your favorite thing to cook?” “Mmm I would say it’s a tie between pasta and surf and turf. It’s usually shrimp and steak or steak and lobster.” Oh Nick was already thinking about marriage. Yes he could cook for himself but it’s probably not as good as you could. “God that also sounds amazing.” You smiled and rolled your eyes plating the omelettes, placing nicks in front of him. “Thank you.” “No problem. Want anything to drink?” You were already pouring yourself down apple juice. “I’ll just take apple juice as well.”

You brought over the two glasses before digging in. You let out a chuckle as he groaned after the first bite. And it was an innocent thing but he sounded good. You were in trouble. “Good?” “Good doesn’t even begin to describe it.” There it is… he talks with his mouth full just like cooper. You took a spray bottle squirting him. “Heyyyy!” “Finish your food before you talk. You and cooper both do that. It’s unbecoming.” He quickly swallowed before wiping the water off his face. “Sorry…” “pretty boys always have a flaw. It’s funny how you and cooper have the same one.” He blushed a dark red. Whether from the compliment or embarrassment you didn’t know. “Is it the same thing with pretty girls?” “Oh absolutely. I have short term memory.” “Hmmm… interesting. So like no snoring or not chewing? Just bad memory.” You nodded taking your last bite. “And I guess I eat too fast.” Comparing your empty plate to his half full one… “yea…”

“Wow… I’ve always met girls who eat so slow like a bird.” You chuckled. “Oh never. I always finish my food. Why I look like I do.” “Mmm well don’t ever stop eating.” “Sir yes sir.”

Later that day you and Nicholas were cuddling on the couch watching a movie when cooper came in and suddenly Nicholas was like a wet dog. “Get off of her Nick!! What did I say??” You couldn’t help but laugh at his pout. “Cooperrrrr!! We were just watching a movie!” “Yea that’s how it always starts.” “Cooper it’s okay. We really were just watching a movie. No hidden motives. Plus it’s cold and you have the thermostat locked.” “Yea she was shivering!! I was just being a good friend.” Cooper glared at him. “Sure whatever.” “Coopy… come on. I made your favorite lasagna. Even kept the burned cheese corners for you.” With that all anger melted away. “God I love you.” He gave your head a kiss before heading into the kitchen warming up his plate. You turned to Nicholas smirking. Thank god yall weren’t on the other couch where cooper had a clear view. He would have a heart attack. “Go wash your hands he’s gonna probably sit with us.” He whispered softly to Nick who immediately went to the bathroom. “I saved some cheese in the bag if you want more.” Cooper had already dumped the rest on his slice before coming over. He sat next to you to be the middleman. “Thank you. What are yall watching?” “Family guy. It’s both our favorite show.” Nick came back from the bathroom with different pants, much looser ones as he couldn’t take care of his problem fast enough to not raise suspicion. He held back his grumbles of coopers seat and took the other couch. “How were auditions?” You had the back up water bottle pointed at cooper. “Swallow.” “Hah that’s what he said.” You sprayed Nicholas glaring softly making cooper chuckle. “It was great honestly. Think I did really well.”

“You always do cooper. I’m sure you’re gonna get it.”

Nicholas was pouting at you. He didn’t understand why he was jealous of his friend. Knowing he had a husband. “I have an audition too…” both you and cooper burst into laughter. “I’m sure you’ll do well too Nicholas.” Nicholas smiled widely. You couldn’t help but think that this was the start of something special. You know cooper would soon accept it… hopefully,

~~~~~~

Blah blah blah proper name backstory proper place

This is a little how they met between Nicholas and y/n from the Instagram post 🙂‍↕️

[russo-woso]

Hello , may i request arsenal/lionesses x teen reader who introduces her partner to her big sisters and the players are like not being able to accept that their baby teammate is growing and also giving a shovel talk to her partner and also telling them embarrassing stories of the reader... Just a cute fluffy blurb .

Thank you

Introduction || Arsenal x reader

“Hey everyone.” You said, appearing at the end of the table, a woman around the same age as you standing next to you, her hand around your waist.

“Y/N!” The team cheered, some of them getting up to hug you.

“This is Emma, Emma this is my team.” You introduced, Emma shaking hands with everyone.

You’d been dating Emma for around three months now and you thought it was time to finally introduce her to your ‘big sisters’.

You were only eighteen so it was a big thing to introduce her to the team.

You glared at Leah as Emma went to shake her hand.

Leah was like the big protective sister you never had.

Leah caught your eye, seeing the glare on your face before smiling up at Emma, shaking her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Emma.” Leah said

You mouthed a quick ‘thank you’ to her, before taking you and Emma took your seats, Emma in your left and alessia on your right.

“So, Emma, what do you do? Work wise.” Alessia asked, trying to start a conversation.

“I work part time for a small cafe around the corner from Colney. Hence how we met.” Emma responded with a smile.

“You said part time, you at uni?” Leah questioned, a serious tone evident in her voice.

“Yeah, I go to uni. I’m studying English to become an English teacher.”

“And you make sure you have to for our girl?” Leah asked, using the nickname the team had given you.

“Of course. I’ll always have time for her.” Emma said, connecting your hands under the table.

“Good. Emma, can we have a little chat?” Leah said, Emma tensing up at the idea.

“Le, no, she’s fine.”

“It’s okay, babe. We can have a chat.” Emma said, kissing your cheek and following Leah to the bar.

“You seem nice, Emma, but I just wanna set some ground rules. Y/N’s our girl. She joined Arsenal when she was sixteen. She was young and naive but she captured our hearts and became our little sister. So on behalf of the whole team, I’m telling you that if you ever break her heart, I’ll make your life miserable, deal?”

“Deal. I would never want to hurt Y/N. I really really like her.” Emma told Leah, heart eyes visible in her eyes as she looked at you.

“I can tell. And she does too. Which scares me, because I still see her as this sixteen year old that joined the team. I feel like I have to protect her.” Leah explained, Emma nodding along, understanding Leah’s words.

“I understand, Leah. I promise though, I’ll never hurt her.”

“I know you won’t, kid. You seem like a good one.” Leah patted her back, a genuine smile on her face. “Come on then.”

Emma sat back down at the table, squeezing your hand.

“Did she threaten to kill you if you hurt me?” You sighed, Emma grinning at Leah.

“Something like that.”

“Leah!” You exclaimed

“Right now more shouting. Time for stories! Emma, did you know that when Y/N first joined…” Katie began, your head dropping in embarrassment knowing exactly what she was gonna say.

“Here we go.”

[overnightheartbeats]

"I'm glad to hear, we'll make sure to put it on the calendar." She was smiling as they talked about their future, thinking of their baby girl having the family that they, for one reason or another, didn't always have. "True, first-time experience. Not sure I'm ready, but I'll do my best to not break you in half," she teased with a wink. Although, she knew that this was going to be one of the most difficult things she'd do. It was terrifying, but she felt a smidge better knowing he'd be by her side through it all. Staring at him like it was her full-time job, that had not changed in all these years. Each time, she looked at him like he was the moon and the stars. His smug smile only confirmed that subtly still wasn't one of her traits. Watching him lick his lips was the epitome of unfair, just for a second, biting on her lower lip. "Would we? Could use my pregnancy excuse, or see if the badge gets us out of it." Unlikely, and it also wasn't something she carried around these days. But, as she joked, Laurel dropped her finger and just leaned in for a quick peck. "Kidding babe, I can behave."

She felt a warmth in her chest when he kissed her hand, taking his hand and gently squeezing. "And I love you," pressing a kiss to the back of his hand. Laurel could make no promises that she could stop, no on and off switch there, but she sure as hell would try. Tormenting Eli with this was not what she wanted. She had apologized, he had forgiven her. Like all the other times, they would get through this - something she had to count on. “True, we did find our way with all of that. And, you guys will too. Look at you, fatherhood is already making you wiser,” she commented with a small smile. Baby names were all they had been thinking about lately. They cycled through family names, varying websites, and the books she’d been exchanging with Juju. Yet, nothing really struck them. “Our little Rosebud," the mention of the flower relation to her name brought one of their early memories to the forefront. That afternoon at the diner, talking about her name, and now here they were, talking about their child's. Her face lit up with his suggestions, how had it not occurred to them earlier. "Rosie sounds cute," but it felt like something was missing from it. "I like the road you're going on, Rosie...Rosalie, hm no." Her brows were furrowed in deep thought, all the names they've looked at beginning to blur together. After a minute or two, she finally perked up. "What do you think about Rosaline?" Laurel 's face softened as her laughter filled the space. "Right? I thought Juju was pranking me when she told me, but yup. They found her name, I do know. I wasn't supposed to, but you know Juju and I have no secrets. It slipped by her, I'll tell you but don't tell anyone else." Completely teasing, knowing he wouldn't, but it amused her to say. "They picked Aurora." Like the princess, she just thought.

Laurel leaned into him while she began eating her delicious churro. "Always so generous, just know we love you for it. And, we thank you for your sweets stash." We, the word kept floating in her mind. How their we was evolving and expanding to include their girl. "I hope she never loses that energy. We've known each other that long, a whole lifetime. I can't believe she's all grown up now." Laurel's dimpled smile made an appearance, feeling a warmth rise in her chest. "Almost like she manifested that for me. Took some time, but we got there, and we haven't even told them that piece yet." That was a piece they had chosen to keep as a surprise until his siblings arrived, but with everything that had happened, those news just didn't seem appropriate to share anymore. "She's a gem, I love her. Like my own little sister." Just another thing that she was grateful for, bringing in more family to her life. "It was reminding me of that cabin trip, Less drama that time around, but I guess that's family. Moving to Chicago, that's a long way from here." Moving seemed like such a foreign concept. They both had been in Texas quite some time, but she was curious if his thoughts on moving back home had changed. "But I understand them wanting to be closer, it would be great to have more family here. Do you think they're open to moving out here? Isa might benefit from having them closer, we could help them settle in here if they decide to move. I agree, we owe them a fun time after coming all the way out here. The Italian spot? Their outdoor seating is the cutest, with those standing heaters too. Comfy bench is a bonus too. Oh my god, and they have that tiramisu," okay, she was back on her sweets kick (one she rarely left these days). "I'll call them when we get home to make a reservation.”

The soft napkin on her skin tickled, but she knew. Churros were never a clean operation. HIs stern voice had her shaking her head in between laughter, but he was right. Something she appreciated, the way he looked out for her. Because right now, she could have churros for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. "Yes captain, I promise. Actual food first and treats later, you can keep the churros away from me until then. We should get some for them to enjoy too.” Taking a swig of the water, Laurel saw the Phillips siblings approach the front of the line. At least, the outing had not been a complete disaster. “Here, let’s switch. I get water and you get your churro.”

"Then consider it planned. We'll plan for another soon as she comes out and you're cleared to go." The thought of their baby girl not suffering a fate like them was appealing. Instead of finding a best friend out there she'd already have one. "You say that now but you don't know pain could be way worse than you originally thought and you want to break me in half." It was a joke, though he did think about how much pain she'd actually be in and felt a pang of pain over it. Laurel was about to do the hardest part of the job with no help from him even if he wanted to. A smug little small took over as he noticed her staring and he knew what was going on in her head. She hadn't lost her obvious touch in the years they've known each other and that made a warmth course him. Just to mess with her he licked his lips and made a whole show before he took a sip of the small water bottle. Feeling her finger on his chest made him chuckle and nearly spit out the water. "Careful babe, we may be charged with public indecency."

"Baby, stop. I love you okay?" Eli kissed her hand and smiled. "We came out stronger because of that. Dumb as it was, I feel like it was necessary. Otherwise we wouldn't know how to navigate literally everything that comes our way." He nodded knowing how much love he had. "I know. I love him too. That doesn't stop because we fuck up." The more they talked about baby names the less inspired he felt about finding the one. "She's babygirl but also because you're named after a flower, she's a Rosebud." It dawned on him then, Rose. "Rose. Rosie, Roro. What about R names?" His surprised face greeted her at the fact that the Contreras found a name. "Before us? World record. Do you know what it is or is it a surprise?"

"I'd share my sweet stash with my favorite girls." He sat down next to her and wrapped his free arm around her shoulders while she ate her churro. A part of him looked around and knew their lives would change when they welcomed their daughter into their world. They would no longer be a family of two but of three. That made a silly little smile spread across his features. The talk of Emma brought out a laugh from him as he looked over at the curly hair bouncing across from them. "I don't think she will ever shed that energy off and I love that about her. God, it feels like a lifetime ago that you first met her. She was right, you were going to be her sister in law. She loved you from that first moment. Though I think she liked you because I did so she attached." Letting out a sigh he nodded. "It's been good to have them both here. Feels like our old cabin trip back in college. Except Isa didn't come along but it feels nice to have family around. You know, they want us to move to Chicago so they won't be too far away when baby girl comes. I can see us moving but not to Chicago. I did suggest them move closer to us. I would love for them to be closer and I'm sure Isa would love to have his sisters closer. I think we should do a do over of dinner for them. The last time it got clouded by the argument so I want to give them a fun no drama night. Any thoughts? We could take that to that restaurant you love. They have outside sitting and that comfy bench."

He turned to look at her and chuckled when she had crumbs of cinnamon on her chin. Taking a napkin he wiped it and smiled thinking she was adorable. "I'll get the order to go once we are ready to leave so you can have some more at home. But you gotta promise me you will have actual food first before the treats. If not, no treats for you." He tried his stern voice and laughed. "I got water too."

[cherry-treelane]

I find it so ironically funny when hardcore Debbie defenders use the defense that she was just a victimised teenage girl (agreed) and then proceed to slander Fiona and express their hatred for her character and lack of sympathy

as if being an adult magically absolves an individual of the horrifying trauma that precedes them and screws up their mentality and actions

funnily enough these people get mad at others for "expecting Debbie to be an innocent angel and hating on her for acting out as a result of trauma" (also agreed, debbie does deserve more sympathy, she can't be expected to grow up to be a perfect saint when she's been through so much) yet seem to hold Fiona to the same unattainable standards and put her on a pedestal as if she wasnt a child that was forced to intensely grow up while never actually being raised

like lets put this into perspective and remember that fiona grew up surrounded by corrupt morals and insanely screwed up behaviour yet still emerged as messed up, yes, but surprisingly good considering the situation she was in??? she had to navigate basic things such as morals and being a good, responsible person on her own. imagine how difficult it must be to lead a bunch of kids, including yourself, with no previous role model or good example of your own to follow. most of the time, she always tried to do what she thought was best and would have the most desirable outcome

[cuteniaarts]

@katkastrofa, circa 40-ish hours ago: Hey, what if our newest bunch of OCs adopted a baby from one of the other brothel girls who knew she couldn’t afford to raise one? That would make for some fun shenanigans :D

Me, with a notoriously non existent sleep schedule, instinct of self preservation or concern for my poor wrist: Alright, bet. Watch how fast I can make you fall in love with this hypothetical baby >:)

Daneli as a gentle and loving caretaker-turned-adoptive-mother is something that can be So Personal, actually, and originally I was going to leave it at this quick sketch, but then I got carried away thinking about what this child will grow up to be like raised by this little gang of misfits, so…

Here she is!! A little older and so, so beautiful, I need more of her in my life immediately, she’s way too precious

And, because I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t also add a sapphic element to this absolute cinnamon roll, a small crack ship that I’m only half serious about for when she’s a little older still:

All in all, we may be getting impossibly far from canon, but I for one already cannot get enough of sweet darling Kumisai <3

(I fully drew three pieces from scratch in 9 hours I cannot feel my brain or my hands anymore send help)

[babythegod]

I was out of the loop cause I haven’t been on social media lately but I saw this license plate earlier and I KNEW !!!! RIH &then Pac’s birthday 😇 THUG LIFE ETERNAL 💕

[corfisers]

i really need to finish this one day

[pynkhues]

GOOD LUCK in court!! decimate that shitty sister's ex 💖💖💖

Thank you!! It's been A Lot Already, but it's going okay so far. Day 1 of 4!

[idontliketomatoesleavemealone]

I think my mom doesn’t understand that people grow apart sometimes and that’s okay

[goldoradove]

Cedric's twin Chelsey is doing okay. Katlyn, on the other hand, is really struggling—losing her niece and her closest brother in quick succession.

[harmonizewithechoes]

It’s my middle child’s 3rd birthday today 🥺

3 years ago my partner was deployed overseas and couldn’t come home for the birth because the military didn’t want to spend so much time quarantining their soldiers. Fortunately I had help as my parents were watching my son (at the time just a month shy of 2) for a few days before my due date and we had moved across the street from my partner’s parents when we found out about the deployment. So I had his mom with me at the hospital holding up her phone while we got to have a rare video call with my partner as we welcomed our daughter into the world after a very quick labor. I then had two months with our two very little kids by myself before he came home. It was an incredibly hectic time and I’m still not quite sure how I was able to get through all of that but here we are with the sweetest little 3 year old (let’s call her C) we could have asked for 🥰

C loves to play dress up and she has specific characters she’ll play as where you can’t refer to her as her name or she’ll get mad. She’s not C she’s Dr C or Baby or Baby Kitty or Princess Bucket (this was her first character and yes she does put a bucket on her head as a crown). Her favorite game to play is hide and seek and she loves dance parties and drawing and she’s obsessed with her 1 year old sister. We love C so much and I’m so excited to see how she grows and changes and learns over this next year ❤️

[tvrningout-a]

you ever find a song that you can so perfectly imagine your character's happy ending to??? bc i found kaiya's and i'm not okaY