minnie 𝜗𝜚

MUGGY. THAT WAS one word you’d use to describe the temperature in Portugal. It was slightly warm, but the air felt thick around you.

The group had started the trip on a negative note already, as Chip had accidentally claimed someone else’s bag and then spent an hour trying to find a decent car rental service.

There was a very amusing statue of Cristiano Ronaldo’s head outside the airport that the boys spent a brief while taking the mick out of before walking across the road to the main car park where the rental car was to be collected from.

Arabella was perched on Alfie’s forearm as he carried her around to stop her from whining about her feet aching.

Chip spoke in the lift, “The journey begins boys, who’s ready to get fucking—“

“I actually am pretty hyped about this one chat.” Alfie put on a funky voice.

“Yuck.” You muttered, causing Greg to laugh.

“For anyone wondering why AB’s mrs is here, it’s because she’s a controlling leech who won’t leave her boyfriend alone. Psycho.” Chip joked, “No, I’m messing. It’s because she wanted to come and they couldn’t leave Arab at home.”

“Buttle family outing.” Greg hummed.

“I’m not even part of the Buttle family.” You scoffed, holding your ring-less finger up to the camera, “Never have kids out of wedlock guys. They take the piss.”

Alfie gave you a dirty look, eyebrows furrowed and head reared back, “Excuse me?”

“You’re excused.” You shrugged before wheeling your suitcase out of the lift behind you once it had come to a stop.

“Top ten coldest Reader moments.” Chip narrated, “Anyway, I’m excited for the vibes. AB’s gonna get his beautiful body out.”

“You’ve been saying this all day on the plane.” Alfie said, sliding his sunglasses on.

“God forbid a white boy try and hype up his boys.”

“You’re not even white.” You chimed in.

“I’ve never had a mate that’s been more attracted to me than you.” Your boyfriend adjusted the backpack slung over his shoulders before jogging lightly to catch up to you.

“Mummy.” Arabella whined, trying to reach out to you.

“What?”

“Hold.”

“No.”

You wouldn’t have been opposed had she not been in your arms five minutes prior and begging to go back to her dad’s.

“Please!”

“Bella, can I hold you?” Greg tried.

The two year old seemed to think about it for a split second before nodding, letting her dad pass her over to his mate.

Alfie began explaining some previous events while taking Arabella’s suitcase from you, “We were getting off the plane and this— the flight attendant goes ‘Can I ask you a question, are you single?’ to Greg, and then he was like ‘I am’ and she went ‘You’re hot’.”

Greg pulled out proof in the form of a brown napkin with a number written down and the words ‘I think you’re really cute, never done this before lol’.

“How cute.” You smiled, raising your shoulders before dropping them.

“Oh, yeah, Reader’s fuming ‘coz the other one tried it on with AB even though he was carrying Bella’s bag and she was carrying her.” Greg laughed.

“That was ballsy.” Alfie nodded before holding his hands up, “Wasn’t a fan. Don’t appreciate the attention. I’m a taken man.”

“I’m not fuming.” You said, “I’m slightly annoyed.”

“I’m fuming for you.” Chip said, “I want his sexy body all to myself.”

“… What?”

“What sessy?” Arabella asked, face screwed up to block the sun from getting into her eyes.

“Alright, that’s enough of that.” Alfie grunted as he slung his backpack forwards to retrieve her little white sunglasses with flowers on the side from the front pocket. “What do we say?”

“Thank you, Daddy.” She grinned as he put them on her face.

“Very stylish.” Greg hummed in approval.

“Sylis.” She tried to replicate the word.

“Yep.”

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“I reckon I can touch this.” Alfie announced once you were under some shade.

The roof was quite high up, and as tall as he was already, you highly doubted he could touch the surface. He’d be lucky if his fingers grazed it at all.

“No, no jumping.” Greg spoke like a wound up parent, “Let’s do something proper.”

Alfie swung his arms back before leaping upwards and managing to touch the ceiling.

Once he’d done it, you ordered for him to lift you up so you could do it too. You grinned as you flattened your palm to it before he lowered you back down, patting your bottom lightly.

You looked straight at the camera, “Editors, make it so I did that all on my own.”

The boys then began discussing the plans of the day, going through the details of their gym session that would inevitably be happening because they made sure to rent a house with a gym inside of it.

“I can do arms. I can do arms.” Chip said when Alfie denied his ability to work out due to his ‘boob job’. “Speaking of my boob job, I need help tying it up.”

“I’m not tying up your corset, bro.” Alfie shook his head, “That’s where I draw the line with friendship.”

Chip suddenly lifted his shirt, showing off the strange, corset-like binder he was wearing underneath to support him after the surgery.

The spontaneous rapidity of his movement caused you to burst into laughter, leaning on the handle of your suitcase.

“You laughing at my boob job? Fine, but let me laugh at yours.” Chip said.

“What? I didn’t get a boob job.”

“He’s saying ‘coz your boobs got bigger.” Alfie chuckled.

“Yeah, Chip, breast feeding will do that to you.” You kissed your teeth.

It was an undeniable fact that your boobs had grown in size since having Arabella, and though they’d shrunk down a little since you’d stopped breastfeeding, they were still a cup or two bigger than before.

“This might be a, uh, personal question, feel free not to answer on cam, have you made love with that corset on?” Alfie asked.

“Yep— Errr, to who? My hand?”

“To someone excluding you.” Greg added.

“Yes.”

“Wow. That’s true love.” You hummed.

“You wouldn’t have sex with Alfie if he got his boobs removed?” Chip turned it on you.

“Me and Alfie have never had sex.” You shrugged, “And never will.”

Everyone went quiet as the camera panned towards Greg, who was still holding Arabella, the living proof that your declaration was a lie.

“I’m joking. I actually like his boobs.” You reached out, squeezing at his pecs, “Honk honk.”

“Bro!” Chip laughed loudly.

Alfie slung his arms around you, jolting you to the side aggressively and cupping your tits before squeezing at them and making the same sound.

“Alfie!” You screeched.

“You two are so strange.” Greg stared in bewilderment.

“Mummy boobs.” Arabella giggled, stretching an arm out herself.

It caused a wave of cacophonous laughter from everyone, including Frampton as the camera began shaking from it.

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Chip was doing a car reveal for the video when an elderly couple walked past, the woman taking a second to wave and coo at Arabella. The toddler beamed, waving back.

“You have a very beautiful baby.” She spoke to you and Greg.

It caught you off guard for a split second before you realised how this looked to any outsiders. With you being the only girl with a group of boys, and Greg being the one holding Arabella, any strangers didn’t have a much better conclusion to come to.

“Oh, no she’s not mine.” Greg laughed before turning to Alfie, “She’s his and hers.”

“Oh, right! Sorry.” The lady laughed, “It’s just because you were holding her.”

You snorted, looking towards Alfie, who was standing there awkwardly.

“Either way, she’s very beautiful.”

“Say thank you, baby.” You whispered.

“‘Hank you.” Arabella smiled, squishing her eyes shut.

Once the couple had walked off, she prodded at Greg.

“Down now.”

“Yeah? You walking?” He hummed, lowering her so her feet were on the concrete and she was making her way towards Alfie.

“Y’alright?” He blinked at her.

“Hi daddy.” She grinned.

“Hi.” He chuckled, “What you doin’?”

“Walk.”

“I can see that.” He nodded.

“Big legs.”

“… What?”

“Make big.”

Alfie grinned at the sight of his daughter trying to explain what she was doing, “Stretching your legs?”

“Yes.”

“Good, you should.” He hummed before pointing to you, “Go walk to mummy and back.”

Arabella did as he said, toddling over to you, losing a bit of balance but clutched onto your leggings for stability.

You let your hand drop down and rest on top of her head.

“You okay?”

“Mhm.” She muttered, focusing on her feet as she manoeuvred the other way around and stomped back over to her dad.

“In you go!” He grunted as he picked her up and moved to put her in the booster seat.

She let out a loud scream, clutching onto the outside of the car, “No!”

“What the fuck was that?” Chip mumbled.

You peered your head around the back of the car.

“Why you screaming?” Alfie frowned.

Arabella started crying out of nowhere, clutching her dad’s shirt for dear life, “No alone!”

You huffed, walking around and crouching in front of her.

“You’re not sitting alone. We’re all getting in the car. Stop screaming and stop crying.” You gritted out, wiping his cheeks with your hand, “You’re being silly.”

She nodded, sniffling, “Silly.”

“She alright?” Greg asked.

“She’s being dramatic. It’s because she’s hot. She’ll cry at anything.” Alfie explained.

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In the car, thankfully, Greg managed to have her in a laughing fit as he spewed off random words that sounded German. You weren’t sure if they were actual German words, or he was just putting the phonetics of the German language together, but it had Arabella cackling like a witch in her booster seat.

Cameras had been stuck to the front window so that Frampton didn’t have to film in the car journeys, and he could just sit in the back row chilling. You and Alfie were on either side of Arabella, while Chip was driving and Greg was in the front.

It took Chip far too long to figure out how to get out of the car park, but once he had, the drive was smooth, which you were overly thankful for because you didn't want to deal with Arabella vomiting.

“Look at this plane tryin’ to land.” He pointed out.

“Ah, yeah,” Alfie faked enthusiasm to peak Arabella’s attention, “Look Bells.”

She craned her neck forward, looking through the skylight “Plane.”

“That thing looks like it’s about to go down.”

“Chip!”

“Sorry.” He paused, “Did you guys ever used to lips up your own hand before you’d ever kissed a girl back in the day?”

“Yeah …” Alfie seemed unconvinced, “It’d be good if you didn’t swerve when you did that and wipe out my whole family.”

“Yeah, sorry, bro.”

You placed your hands over Arabella’s ears for your next sentence, “I never made out with my own hand but I used to practice giving head when I ate a banana.”

“What the fuck?”

“Did you know about this?” Greg turned to Alfie.

He nodded with pursed lips, “Told her to drop the banana and come give some real slops.”

Thankfully the conversation came to an end just as Arabella began whining about having her ears covered, pushing your hands away.

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Upon entry, the house was lovely. The floors were a chilling cold which felt amazing considering the heat outside, and there was so much space in every room.

The gym had to be one of the largest rooms there, and was undoubtedly going to be the one the boys spent the most amount of time in. You couldn’t say the same. You wouldn’t say your ideal habitat was in a gym room with four men while your daughter did god knows what halfway across the house.

“Look at the basketball chair. This is the only reason I wanted this gaff.” Alfie grinned, sitting down in the chair that was indeed shaped and styled like a basketball. “Bells, come.”

Arabella waddled toward her dad, “Ball.”

“Yeah, big basketball chair.” He hummed, picking her up and setting her in his lap, “Reader.”

You lifted your head out of your phone, looking at the sight and then awing before getting a picture that would undoubtedly be used in an Instagram dump on one of your accounts.

“Yeah, you’ve been messing with basketball chairs the whole time I’ve known you.” Greg played along, “And now you’re getting your offspring on it. I rate it.”

Alfie pulled a face, “Offspring?”

“Yeah, Arabella’s your offspring.”

Alfie adjusted, swapping places so Arabella was sat alone on the basketball chair and he was free to test out the gym equipment and darts board.

He wasn’t very accurate with his throwing, but he towed you into a bet of giving him head tonight if he got a bullseye.

He didn’t, in fact he missed one of the shots and the dart clattered to the ground, but he still glanced at you expectantly.

“You missed.”

“I won’t miss tonight.” He jeered.

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After a game of crocodile dentist, which was won by your boyfriend, he got to pick the biggest room to stay in, and that had you feeling like a smug winner by association as you unzipped your suitcase.

“Reader making herself right at home.” Chip commented.

“My fella won, I get to reap the benefits of that. Cry about it.” You gave him a fake smile.

The boys all cuddled together on the bed, Alfie uncomfortably sandwiched between the two of them, to which you stared blankly while Arabella stood at your feet.

He saw them out so the three of you could get well settled in the room, waving them off.

“I’ve got a rule for this room; no dirty piggies allowed.”

Greg burst out laughing while Arabella giggled from the bed, snacking on her fingers.

“Ah!” You snapped at her.

Sheepishly, she pulled them away, knowing she’d been caught doing something she wasn’t allowed to do.

You and Alfie had been trying to get her to stop gnawing on her hand whenever she got bored or fidgety, because quite frankly, it was gross and no one in public wanted to see a toddler’s slobber everywhere.

“I might as well just fucking wait for everyone to pick and you lot let me know which one I’m in.” Greg huffed as you all made your way down the stairs, “You fuckin’ muscly, stupid football playing charity match prick.” He aimed at Alfie as he followed right behind him, “Get here, I’m gonna fuck ya!”

“That’s my job, Greg.” You sighed, shaking your head.

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On the way to the restaurant you were having dinner at, Greg grabbed a ‘traditional Madeiran hat’ from a shop and refused to take it off throughout the whole meal.

The American diner was great, it was well decorated and the seats were comfy. The boys seemed to be umming and arring over the quality of the food, but you didn’t think it was too bad, and neither did Arabella.

She was back on Alfie’s lap as he tore up little pieces of the chicken tenders and blew on them so they were an appropriate temperature for her to eat.

She took the torn off piece and leaned forwards, stretching across the table to dunk it into the pot of sauce that Chip had acquired.

“Bella!” You gasped at her audacity to just take from someone else, “You have to ask, baby.”

She blinked from you to Chip and then down to her chicken covered in sauce, “Have please, Uncle ‘Ip?”

The boys weren’t half as bothered as you were, finding the situation rather funny instead.

“Yeah, ‘course you can.” He nodded, nudging the pot further in her direction.

“‘Hank you.” She beamed, continuing to eat.

You shook your head at her as she waved lightly at you.

“You have … sauce all over your hand.” Alfie grimaced, grabbing a napkin and wiping his daughter's hand over, twisting at her fingers to make sure they were properly clean.

“It’s literally just chicken in cornflakes.” Greg shrugged.

“Yummy.” Arabella spoke with her mouth full.

You gave her a stern, disappointed look, and she glanced up to her dad, expecting him to say something in her defence. Alfie shrugged and then held his finger to his lips, shushing her, to which she copied.

“I might’ve had a slight fumble here.” Chip admitted.

“Definitely.” You agreed.

“Nuh uh!” Arabella, once again, spoke with her mouth full.

“Bella.”

She stared directly at you and began purposefully babbling loud, disruptive noises while smacking her lips excessively.

You shrugged, “Alright.” and then turned your body fully away from her, having your plate in your lap instead.

“Uh oh, Bella’s in trouble.” Chip sang teasingly.

“No, mummy!” Arabella hit your back.

“Oi!” Alfie lifted his daughter, manoeuvring her to face away from you, “What you doin’?”

“Mummy—“

“No. You don’t hit people.”

“Y’know, it’s mad weird watching AB be a proper dad.” Greg spoke to the camera, while Alfie continued to scold Arabella gently, “Like, not ‘coz I expect him to be bad at it, it’s just … I dunno.”

“Mummy.” Arabella patted your back softly.

You turned back to face her.

“Mummy, hug?”

“Are you sorry?”

She nodded and you opened your arms for her. She beamed brightly, wrapping her tiny, pudgy arms around your midsection.

“That was good, bro.” Chip said to Alfie, slightly shocked by the way he handled the situation so maturely.

Alfie shrugged, “Dad life, ennit?”

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The evening was beautifully chilled. You and Alfie were lounging in your bedroom while Arabella sat on the floor (by choice) in her pyjamas, while watching a childish YouTube video on her dad’s phone, something about surprise toy eggs covered in Play-Doh.

Somewhere between talking casually and doing nothing, your lips had found his and had begun moving the rhythmic dance that was to blame for starting the very activity that was the reason you were parents at such young ages.

You couldn’t help but grin into the kiss, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks while his fell to your waist, slowly but surely turning his body until he was hovering on top of you.

It was when his fingers snuck round your front to slide beneath the waistband of your leggings that the both of you had to pull away and stop yourselves.

“Not while Bella’s in the room, Alf.”

He closed his eyes, groaning in annoyance before spontaneously standing up.

Downstairs, Chip was still filming for the video, talking mindlessly to the camera beside Greg while the football played on the large TV.

It was a very amusing clip to see Alfie come jogging down the stairs carrying his two year old, rambling off the title of some YouTube video for her to watch, dumping her on the couch and then legging it back upstairs.

Chip got a shot of him and Bella in the frame together, staring at each other through the camera, though he knew it wouldn’t be half as funny in the video because his editors were going to have to blur her face, so the viewers weren’t able to see the humorous blankness of her expression.

“Well, now we’re watching a … I don’t know, actually.” Chip hummed, panning the camera to the TV, which was now displaying a video for Arabella.

She was watching it very intently, despite having barely a clue as to what was happening in it. He supposed she was just very enticed by the bright colour of the Play-Doh and the cute toys that came out of the plastic egg.

He then turned the shot to include Greg, who was sitting on the other side of Arabella, phone face down and also very attentively watching the YouTube video.

“Doggy.” She giggled as a plastic doggy was opened up from a blind bag.

“Do you know what sound a doggy makes?” Greg asked her, “Sound, AB?”

“Woof woof!” She mimicked what she knew.

“Yeah, high five!”

Her palm smacked against his, and he pretended that she was far too strong for him, clutching his hand to his chest and making her cackle heartily.

“Just me and Window Kid entertaining little AB while big AB and his mrs have a shag up there— They’re definitely doing that by the way.”

“What, shagging?” Greg tilted his head up.

“Yeah.”

“Hundred percent, bro.”

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After yours and Alfie’s … strenuous activities, you hopped in the shower together, in which he handed you his razor and encouraged you to help him shave as neatly as possible. Once that was done, he then offered to do yours, and in response you blinked and told him you didn’t need help with that, but he insisted (“Nah, girl, I can get all up in there, trust. Spread ‘em.”).

You threw on one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers to head downstairs and join everyone else while he settled on a simple towel.

Chip already had the camera on and recording as you descended, the pair of you looking like you were doing the infamous walk of shame.

“First of all, bro, I just did, like, a half an hour shave of my whole shit.” Alfie laughed breathily, “Gave Reader the razor and told her to give me a low taper ‘coz I was bored.”

“Nah, your boy does a full shave for a Chippo vid.” Chip mocked.

“Your boy has an everything shower.”

“Your fella begs to shave your bush.” You added, startling them both.

“What?! AB, what the fuck!”

“Nah, nah, I don’t support deforestation ‘n’ that—“

Chip wheezed, “—Deforestation—“

“—But she did mine, thought I’d be gentlemanly and offer to do hers.”

“Right, well, enough of that. Go in there. Go in there,” He pointed to the bathroom, “It stinks so bad.”

You stood far back, picking Arabella up off the sofa and holding her in your arms while Alfie walked towards the downstairs bathroom, going over Greg’s ‘overflowing/ flooding shit’ story.

“Mummy.” Arabella said quietly through a yawn.

“I know, baby. Bedtime, okay?”

She whined in protest, but still buried her face in your neck.

Just as Alfie poked his head into the bathroom, he gagged, coughed and immediately walked away, ignoring any of Chip’s pleas for him to come back and do it again.

“Reader, smell it! Smell it!” He said excitably.

“Shh!” You shushed the man while walking back and forth with your daughter, hoping that soothing movement would lull her to sleep, “Also, no. I’m not smelling Greg’s literal shit.”

On the way up the stairs, Alfie paused to talk to Greg, who was fully naked in his bathroom with just his head poking out of the door frame. While they were talking, Chip zoomed in on Alfie’s chest, the camera picking up all the little hairs growing across his pecs.

“Did an everything shower but couldn’t sort your chest out?”

“What are you doing?” Alfie giggled.

“Couldn’t sort the chest out?”

“Bro, trust the process with the chest.”

“Oh, you tryna grow something new?”

“Reader likes it, so I keep it.” He gave an unbothered shrug.

“Alfie.” You hummed, looking down at where Arabella was drooling excessively while gnawing on her fingers.

“Alright, another one of those nights.” He sighed heavily, “Let’s just get her down and see if she sleeps through it.”

“What’s this?” Chip asked.

“She’s got her last baby teeth coming in and they really hurt at night. I apologise in advance if she wakes you up by screaming and crying.”

“Shit, it’s one of those?” He winced.

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Thankfully, she had gone down without much of a fight, and you both tucked her in to the little cot in the corner with a kiss on the forehead and making sure that her cow plushy was hugged tight to her chest.

Back downstairs, Chip thought it was funny to walk around, fully bent in half with his hands clutching his ankles. He looked like something out of a horror movie, especially in the low light of the living room only being illuminated by the football back on the TV.

“Eugh!” Alfie groaned, pointing at him.

He’d put on a pair of adidas shorts for now, which you knew would be coming off when you went to bed.

“Imagine he starts running like that.”

You gasped, sitting up.

Alfie looked at you, “No, no, no.”

“I can run in a back bend.”

“No way!” Chip cackled, standing up straight now, “Do it, do it.”

You stood, tucking the shirt into the boxers so you didn’t flash anyone, and arched backwards until your hands were on the floor whilst your head was upside down. You then began moving at an extremely fast pace around the living room.

Greg screamed, tucking his knees to his chest on the sofa while Chip writhed uncomfortably and bounced from foot to foot.

“Stop, man.” Alfie chuckled as you came right up to him, “Bare weird, girl.”

“That’s fucking disgusting.” Greg cackled, “Please teach Arabella to do the same and then both freak AB out at the same time.”

“Bro, no!”

It was like perfect timing, because the moment you stood back to full height, Arabella began shrieking upstairs.

“There we go, that’s the teeth.” You huffed, already making the move to go upstairs.

“Does she get nightmares?” Greg asked, scratching at his beard.

“Uhhh … not really?” Alfie replied, “Only sometimes but a quick cuddle and she’s alright.”

“Bella.” You cooed, flipping the light switch on and crouching in front of her bed.

“Mummy daddy!” She sobbed loudly, crawling towards you while suckling on the ear of her stuffed cow.

“I know, I know.” You whispered, lifting her up, “Alf!” You called out.

“Comin’!”

By the time he’d wrapped up downstairs with the boys and scaled the stairs, you’d gotten comfy against the headboard of your own bed, Arabella pressed up against your chest while still wailing.

You were trying to lull her back to sleep, shushing down her ear while stroking at her back and head.

She kept rubbing her jaw against your collarbone, seemingly trying to soothe the pressuring ache inside of her mouth.

“Hey.” Alfie spoke softly, closing the door behind him and crawling into bed beside you.

Her harsh waterworks restarted at the sight of her dad, craving comfort from the both of you.

He snuggled closer, resting his cheek on your bicep while stroking his thumb over her cheek, wiping her tears as they fell.

“Daddy, hurt.” She cried.

“I know it hurts, Bells.” He frowned in defeat, “I know.”

She reached out for his finger, trying to put it in her mouth.

“No, we’re not allowed to do that, remember? No fingers and hands in mouths.”

The rejection only hit her harder as her face screwed up in distress.

You sighed heavily, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and adjusting so that you were sat better up straight.

A knock came from the door, and Alfie let the person know they were okay to enter.

It was Chip, and he was holding one of Arabella’s dummy’s.

“This was downstairs, I dunno if it’s gonna help.”

“Cheers, bro.” Alfie took it from him with a nod.

“We’re all coming bed now though— No pressure, don’t rush her to stop crying, just thought I’d let you know we’re shutting off.”

“Alright, see you in the morning.”

“Night Chip.” You smiled tiredly before whispering to Bella, “Wanna say night night to Uncle Chip?”

Instead of speaking, she raised an arm and waved as much as she could through the concentrated pain in her jaw.

“Night, Arab.”

And then the door was closed again.

Alfie tried to slide the rubber end of the dummy between Arabella’s lip, but she was having none of it, instead deciding to rear her head back with a sobbing whine.

“Bella, please, baby.” You muttered, “It’ll help, okay?”

She clung to you tighter, squeezing your shirt in her fist.

You gave Alfie a nod, signalling for him to try again.

This time, he was successful, and Arabella’s wails were dulled to a light sniffling and the occasional dribble of tears.

“There we go, darlin’.” He smiled, taking her off of you and proceeding to pace the floor to help her doze off.

She’d worn herself out with all her crying, so it didn’t take long for her eyes to shut and her soft snores to fill the room.

Once she’d been put back down in her cot, Alfie clambered back into bed in his boxers, wrapping you up in his arms tightly and dotting kisses along your hairline.

“G’Night.”

“Night.”

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In the morning, Alfie had been the one to bathe Arabella while you stood in front of the large bathroom mirror, doing your makeup and occasionally pulling faces at your daughter through the reflective glass.

She giggled loudly at you before swiping a hand out and covering Alfie’s cheek in soap suds.

“Bella!” He groaned, wiping them off using his shoulder.

“‘Oap!”

“Yeah, I know, girl. But, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t get it all over my face.” He muttered, tilting her head back and pouring water in little splashes over her hair to rinse it free of shampoo.

Once she was done and bored of splashing about, he heaved her out of the bath and wrapped her in her dressing down.

“Cold, daddy.” Her lips trembled as she hugged her hands to her chest.

“I know, let’s go get dressed.”

When you finished your makeup, you returned to the bedroom, finding your daughter in a pair of denim dungarees that had little butterflies stitched on, and a baby yellow t-shirt on underneath.

“Good fit?” Alfie asked while tugging a t-shirt on.

You hummed and nodded, pleased by his choice before rummaging around through your own clothes to find something to wear.

You decided on a pair of tiny shorts and a retro Adidas shirt that was striped with green and cream. The fabric was relatively thick too so it wouldn’t leave you too cold.

“Socks and shoes, baby.” You crouched in front of Arabella, shoving some socks onto her feet.

“No!” She whined, throwing herself backwards and trying to kick them off.

“Bella.” You said, tone firm but trying to be patient, “Stop kicking please.”

“Off! Off!” She screamed, fighting back as you pushed her foot into her shoe.

“What the fuck is going on?” Greg poked his head in whilst shrugging a plaid shirt on.

“She doesn’t wanna put shoes on.” Alfie huffed, sitting on the bed and pulling Arabella into his lap to hold her in place while you wrestled with her feet to cover them up.

She wasn’t just screaming anymore, she was bawling.

You pursed your lips, keeping quiet and ignoring her protests as you did the velcro strap and put her feet down.

“No!” She cried, tears streaming, “Don’t want!”

“You’re not walking around the streets barefoot, Bella.”

Alfie lowered her back down to the floor, and she dramatically threw herself onto it, rolling around and wailing.

Instead of giving her any form of attention, you walked around her and unplugged your phone from its place on charge at your bedside. Alfie sat on the edge of the bed, staring at her with a blank expression along with Greg.

“Daddy, off!” She tried, kicking her feet into his shin.

“Oi!” He snapped, reaching down and taking a hold of her ankles, “Do not kick me. Understand?”

“I want off!”

“You can’t. We’re going out. I’ll say it again, do not kick me. It hurts, it’s not nice.”

It didn’t hurt. She was only two. But he had to find some way to acknowledge her bad behaviour.

“Alfie, don’t shout at her.” You whispered while putting earrings in, “It won’t help.”

“I know, I know.”

She thrashed her legs again, and this time, Greg crouched down to her level.

“AB, look, mate.” He pointed to his shoes, “Look at my shoes. Aren’t they cool? We can both have our shoes on.”

“I don’t like it!”

“Yeah, I don’t like wearing shoes either, but we can do it together, yeah?”

She thought for a moment, and then began shuffling toward Greg, and then curled herself up in his arms.

“Aw, this is nice.” He grinned, “Thank you, AB.”

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In the car, Arabella was still in a mood with Alfie for shouting at her, and demanded that Greg sit in the back with her. She held his hand the whole time, babbling his ear off in short bursts all while he nodded along.

“Let’s go back to parrots, has anyone deeped how they can actually speak English?” Chip asked from the driver’s seat.

Alfie sighed, “They can’t, though.”

“Yes they can.” He mocked the sound of a parrot, making Arabella laugh.

“No, they can’t. They just mimic, like, the pitch— I can’t remember how it works but they can’t actively speak English, they can just mimic noises and how words sound. That’s why they only say words they hear a lot.” You explained, peering your head around the seat to talk to Chip.

“Didn’t realise we had David Attenborough in the car, fuckin’ hell.”

“I remember— ah, have I said this before? I don’t even wanna say it.” Alfie shook his head.

“Nah, just say it now. You can’t start and then not finish at all.”

“We watched the Romeo and Juliet film in English, um, like Leonardo DiCaprio one, and um, like, in lesson, I think there was a bit of boob on show at one point, and the second I got home, I bought that film on YouTube and I paused on that and just went nuts on it.”

“Alfie!” You groaned, your expression one of utter disgust as you shook your head.

“And I told my mates ‘coz I thought they’d find it funny and I’m pretty sure next time we were with a group of girls they went like ‘Oi, y’know AB fuckin’ wanked over Romeo and Juliet’ and they were all like ‘Ewwww’.”

“Good. That’s what you get for being with other girls before me.” You sneered jokingly.

“Fuck, she’s got you there.” Chip murmured.

“That’s actually quite romantic, bro.” Greg spoke up.

“Me wanking to Shakespeare or my mrs being mad I spoke to gal before her?”

“I mean,” He scoffed out laughter, “Both. I rate you for the wank, and I rate her for the possessiveness.”

“10/10 couple.” Chip added on.

“Yeah, 10/10 but they can’t get their daughter to wear shoes.” Greg joked, making Arabella give him a high five. “Wait, you know how girls, like, uh, read erotic books and toss themselves off—“

“A Court of Thorns and Roses.”

“Ball knowledge.” You smirked at Chip’s mention.

“Do you think some lads read books and wank?”

His question caused a wave of laughter and a light debate started before Frampton added in his own thoughts.

“My mrs is obsessed with Draco Malfoy and Hermione fan fiction.”

“Oh God!” Alfie groaned and laughed.

“That’s actually crazy, bro.”

“That’s like … that’s peak teenage girl fan fiction.” You giggled, starting to reminisce yourself “Like, pulling all nighters during summer just to read— Wow, what a time.”

“You used to read that?!” Greg exclaimed.

“Okay, personally I never indulged in a Dramione fanfic—“

“—Dramione—!”

“— But the first fanfic I ever read was a Ron Weasley one and I still remember it to this day.”

“What did you read it on?”

“Wattpad.” You shrugged.

“Aren’t there shit about me on there?” Alfie turned to you.

“I dunno, probably. There’s loads of Sidemen fanfics on there.”

“Really?!”

“Yeah.”

“Probably all for Wroetoshaw, mate.” Chip guffawed.

“Harry.” Arabella cooed from the back.

It went silent for a little until everyone began laughing again.

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Out of the car, there was a long trek down to the restaurant you were going to for brunch, and on the way you discovered that there was a car park further down, which would’ve saved you the entire journey.

Arabella whined at the sloping concrete, tugging on the bottom of Alfie’s shorts.

“What, Bella?”

“Up.”

“Oh, what, now you like me?” He sassed.

“Daddy, up.” She whined, burying her face in his leg.

“What do you say?”

“Please.”

After she used her manners, Alfie caved, lifting her up and settling her in his arms to carry her the rest of the way.

In the restaurant, one of the men that worked there recognised Chip through his collaborations with the Sidemen and then saw you all to a table. They pulled up a special highchair for Arabella so she didn’t have to perch on yours or Alfie’s lap the whole time.

The food you’d ordered was good, and you were relatively surprised when Alfie actually ate most of what he’d ordered, though you’d spent half of your meal trying to encourage Arabella to eat and your own food had gone cold.

“Reader, swap.” Alfie motioned, moving to take your seat so that he had the responsibility of feeding your daughter and not you.

“Are you sure—“

“Sit down and eat, please.”

There was an entire fish on the table that everyone was taking the mick out of, including Chip, who decided it would be funny to mimic a Jamaican accent while toying with it just as the waiter approached again.

“Sorry about my mate using it as a Jamaican puppet.” Alfie said, causing you to bark out laughter.

Towards the end of the meal, Frampton ended up losing the drone to a ridiculously tall tree. You all ventured down to the tree line and Alfie tried numerous different tactics to get the drone down, including shaking the tree, throwing more sticks up at it, and even attempting to scale the entire thing at one point.

“Alfie, get down!” You exclaimed.

“Why?!”

“Because I need you alive?!” You scoffed, “Seriously, come down before you fall down.”

Unfortunately, Frampton didn’t get his drone back, but the restaurant did give you all the meal for free, which was very lovely of them to do. So you returned to the car with full bellies and more cash in your wallets than you’d expected.

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The next adventure for the day was a cable car journey up a section of Madeira, and then to get back down you’d be put in little wooden sleds and pushed down sloping roads with two residents guiding you.

Chip upgraded you all to glass floors, which meant the entire cable car was made of glass and gave you a completely unfiltered view of the city around you.

Arabella kicked up a fuss about it, freaked out about being able to see the drop beneath her, so she sat on your lap and kept her gaze on the window looking outwards rather than down.

“AB, look, it’s fine.” Greg said, stranding on the glass floor and walking back and forth.

Of course it caused the cable car to shake a little, and Arabella screamed in terror, diving back into your neck and sobbing.

“Fuck, I thought it would help.” Greg put a hand to his mouth and sat back down.

“Bro.” Alfie laughed, shaking his head.

“Arab, it’s okay, I don’t like it neither.” Chip muttered, stroking her cheek.

“Want out!”

“I know, I’m sorry. It is my fault. I upgraded without thinking about it.”

“Should I lay my jacket out on the floor?” Alfie asked.

“No, just pass it over here.” You motioned.

He chucked it over, and you spread it out, covering the top of Arabella’s head so her view is restricted to you only. Her cheek rested against your chest, feeling for your heartbeat to soothe herself.

“This is the bread and butter of Madeira.” Chip commented, gazing out of the window once he was a little more comfortable, “Ronaldo would’ve just been living up in a house like this, then he probably went to that football pitch to kick ball.”

“Apparently he used to do keepie-uppies inside his … when he was a kid, on his way up to the mountain.” Greg gestured to the outside.

“Used to play crossbar challenge in that diner as well.” Alfie added with a little smirk, making you chuckle under your breath and shake your head.

“Do you reckon Ronaldo’s been to that diner?” Chip asked seriously.

“I … I think it’s a slim chance.”

Halfway up the mountain, Greg and Chip began farting continuously, being amusing to only them as you and Alfie sat shoulder-to-shoulder, jokingly covering Arabella like she was about to be attacked.

“Why we doing that? Why we all farting?” Alfie scratched his ear.

It was then that a little ‘poot’ came from your lap.

The boys went quiet as you lifted Alfie’s jacket from Arabella’s head, only to find her giggling to herself.

“Whoopsy mummy.” She whispered with her hand over her mouth.

Your head reared back in hysterical laughter while Alfie chuckled and pinched his nosebridge.

Greg was leaning forwards on his knees, tears pricking in his eyes as Chip clutched at his stomach.

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At the top of the mountain, Greg paid for a print out of the photo you’d all taken, and then got a round of drinks that he thought was going to be alcoholic based on the presentation of them.

They’d carved out a pineapple and filled the inside with a drink. Chip and Greg were sharing while you and Alfie did too.

Once you’d all finished your drinks, and taken a load of pictures together (mainly of you and Alfie, sometimes with Arabella) you ended up walking through a little museum that was surrounded by rainforest-like trees.

Arabella insisted on walking by herself, so you put her down and she waddled her way through the museum, stopping to look at only the most intricate of paintings.

The contemporary, modern pieces didn’t interest her in the slightest, but all the large ones with numerous colours had her looking at them in awe.

You stayed close to her while the boys lingered behind, doing a few bits for the video before continuing on outside.

“It’s butt plug man.” Alfie sniggered while pointing his camera at a statue of a man with a tear-drop shaped head.

“Where’s your one, Alf?” You hummed.

“I don’t have one.” He scoffed.

You looked at him sceptically, as if you knew otherwise.

“Where’s yours?” He retorted.

“In your boxers.”

“That was cold.” Chip chuckled, nodding in approval, “That was fucking cold— Y’know what?” He gave you a high five and you shrugged nonchalantly.

“I’m here all day. It’s just what I do.”

“We could be in Thailand. This looks like the places those monkeys, like, steal your shoelaces and shit.” Alfie explained, filming the area for his own vlog, “D’you agree, girl?”

You hummed and nodded, “I know what you mean, it does.”

“Yes.” He hissed, pumping his fist, “Mrs approval, that’s all I want.”

You all walked around outside for a little while longer, and you grabbed a few photos of Arabella staring out at nothing, along with a few of her next to her dad, before venturing into the next part of the museum which was designated to crystals.

You had to remind Arabella that she had to hold Alfie’s hand throughout the entire time, and if she let go then she’d have to be carried for the rest of the day. You didn’t want to risk her touching things and damaging them, so instilling this rule was your safest bet.

The boys weren’t too arsed, except for Chip, whereas you were mesmerised by all the beautiful colours and intricate designs.

“Isn’t it mad that nature can just do this.” You whispered, looking at the camera Frampton was holding, “Bella’s dossing about with her dad ‘coz he doesn’t give a shit but this is so cool to me.”

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Unfortunately, the queue for the sledding down the hill was ridiculously long, so you all made the unanimous decision to come back in the morning before it got popular.

There was a little convenience store around, so you all grabbed some snacks and drinks.

The monsters they had were tiny, just about the size of Alfie’s head and he could hold one between his thumb and first finger.

You would be lying if you said the size comparison didn’t have your tummy doing little flips, but you were also in public, so that was a thought you were going to have to keep to yourself.

Until Alfie looked at you, noticing the look in your eye and laughing, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“You little fuckin’ freak.”

“Did I miss something?” Chip frowned.

“Nah, nah.”

You giggled, unfurling yourself from his arms and going to get some stuff for yourself.

When you returned with a bottle of Dr. Pepper and a small tub of Texas BBQ Pringles, you found Alfie holding the tiny can to his mouth and uttering about wanting to ‘fuck it’.

You blinked, expression blank.

“Your mrs caught you, bro.” Chip cackled.

“Nah,” Alfie whispered, turning to you, “Nah, you too, girl. C’mere.”

“No. I see how it is.” You shrugged, “You’d rather make love to a can of white monster than the mother of your child. Fine.”

“I made love you last night, is that not enough?”

“I knew it!” Chip gasped, “I fucking knew it.”

“Mummy?” Arabella came waddling over to you holding a KitKat, “TeeTat please?”

“No, you’re already having Magic Stars.”

“Please!” She begged.

“No.” You repeated.

“I love the way you talk to her like she’s 20.” Chip chuckled, “Just straight up ‘no’.”

You shrugged, “If I baby talk her, it makes her think she’s close to getting her way.”

“Daddy.” She pouted, “TeeTat.”

“I know.” He hummed, “KitKat or Magic Stars?”

She huffed at being given an ultimatum, before shuffling off.

“AB.” Greg whispered to her at the counter.

She perked her head up, watching as he gestured for her to hand it over. A triumphant grin took over her face as she passed it to him, observing as he paid and then slid it into his pocket.

“I’ll give it to you later, don’t tell mummy or daddy.” He winked, ruffling her hair.

She giggled, stomping her feet excitable and nodding before running back to you, only to stack it right at your feet.

“For God sake.” You huffed as her lower lip trembled and tears brewed in her water line.

Alfie took your snacks from you so he could pay and give you the room to pick her up.

You were lucky to make it outside before she started properly wailing.

Finding a bench, you sat down with her on your lap and checked over her body, making sure she hadn’t cut herself anywhere or hit her head off the shelf.

“Oh, Bells.” You frowned as she cried, “You’re okay, chick. Big fall, hm?”

She nodded, coughing and leaning into your chest.

“Mummy’s here, you’re alright.”

“Hurted.”

“I know.” You cooed, wrapping your arms around her tighter.

She managed to calm herself down after you placed a soothing hand on her back and rubbed back and forth.

Alfie came out the shop with a white plastic bag, carrying everything for the three of you.

“Bells, we’re going hat shop. Wanna go get a hat?” He cooed, tickling under her chin.

“Daddy.” She sniffled, reaching for him.

“Oh, I know, darlin’.” He sighed, handing you the bag so he could carry your daughter around.

In the hat store, Greg got another hat and Alfie got a red bucket hat. Arabella ended up picking out a purple cap with little yellow flowers dotted all over it.

“That’s pretty, baby.” You grinned as they walked out in their new hats.

She grinned at the compliment, giggling shyly.

The walk back to the car was leisurely, the journey even more so as you pulled into the car park of where you were headed next.

“Ask me about my fit!” Alfie said to Chip.

“Oi, tell me about your fit.”

“Pwwwww … what?!” Alfie blew out air dramatically, causing a lot of chuckles and head shakes.

“I thought you were gonna run through it!”

“Ah, yeah yeah yeah,” Alfie nodded, “Head—“

“If you’re offering.” You smirked.

He pointed to you, “Behave. Head, CR7 bucket hat, priceless—“

“Boring!”

“Reader, shut up, man!”

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The water was fucking freezing. You had no doubts that it probably would’ve been lovely had the weather been above mediocre, however it wasn’t. The sky was grey and cloudy, and the water you were standing in shot goosebumps up your skin.

Arabella stood on the side in a little one piece that had a frilly skirt around the edge. She stared at the water like it might reach out and bite her.

“You coming?” You hummed, reaching out for her.

Alfie sat down entirely, submerging his full body apart from his head in the water, deciding to just soak himself to get over the constant shivers.

“Scared, mummy.” Arabella sniffled.

There was a little red mark on her knees from where they’d made contact with the floor of the convenience store earlier, and the physical evidence of her hurt made your heart weep, but you knew this was just what came with being a toddler. You were sure there were numerous times where you would’ve injured yourself in public and won’t remember it anymore.

“I know, it’s a little scary, huh?” You spoke with a light tone, trying to encourage her to get in, “But look, me and daddy did it. Do you wanna join us?”

“Bells, come join me, darlin’.” Alfie beckoned her closer.

“Bella, Bella, Bella.” Greg chanted for her.

She also had inflatables wrapped around her biceps, making her arms stick out a whole lot more than usual. It made her look kinda silly, but you were okay with her looking slightly ridiculous if it meant she’d be alive.

“Otay, I come.” She finally agreed, stepping one foot into the water before screaming at how cold it was.

You all laughed heartily at her reaction.

“Daddy’s coming to get you.” Alfie stood up to his full height, water dripping from his swimming trunks.

“Daddy, too cold!”

“Nah, you just gotta get used to it, Bells.” He said, picking her up under her armpits and holding her to his chest before sitting back down in the water.

Her cheeks puffed out immediately, and she flapped for a while before finding her dads shoulders and latching onto them.

“Good girl, baby!” You cheered, clapping.

“Fuckin’ell, she’s braver than me!” Chip guffawed, finally finding it within himself to submerge below his stomach.

“Let’s go swim, yeah?” Alfie kicked out into the deeper end, treading water and holding Arabella out by her hands, “Kick, okay? I wanna see big splashes from your feet.”

She grunted while trying to hold her head above water, but kicked as she’d been taught in her swimming lessons, creating a splash that would’ve been considered dramatic and big for anyone her size.

“If I let go, will you swim to mummy?”

Arabella nodded.

Alfie slowly let go of his daughter's fingers, however he kept his arms outstretched in case it all went wrong and he needed to intervene as soon as possible.

“Look at that!” Greg exclaimed as Arabella basically doggy-paddled toward you.

“Yay, Bella!” You beamed at her, lifting her into your arms once she reached you.

She coughed and wiped her face, squeezing her eyes shut before opening them again.

“Too cold, mummy.” She whimpered, lips chattering.

“Okay, we’ll get out.” You kissed her cheek, rising from the shallow end and stepping out, “I’m proud of you, though.”

You found her pink and orange towel poncho amongst the other items you’d brought out and left near the sun loungers, putting it over her head until she was wrapped and warming up again.

“Where’s she gone?” Chip threw his hands up.

“It’ll be too cold for her.” Alfie tutted before flipping off of a surface into the deep end.

Once she’d warmed up again, she wanted to go back in.

“Why doesn’t Uncle Chip hold you, yeah? Because he can’t go in properly?” You proposed the idea.

“Sounds good.” Chip nodded, taking Arabella from you.

He remained on his knees in the shallow bit, holding onto your daughter like his life depended on it, occasionally bringing her up and down out of the water to make little splashes.

You and Alfie had ventured far off into the deep end at this point, swimming around each other with teasing grins. The sensual looks were merely because you’d noticed his eyes giving your body a whole lot of attention, and he could say the same about you.

“You look so fit right now.” Alfie sighed, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Mmm, careful. We’re in public.” You tutted, your hands clasping at the back of his neck.

“I would literally fuck you right now if it was sanitary and you didn’t care.”

“In front of our daughter and your friends? Very classy, Alf.”

“Okay, maybe if they all fucked off, yeah.”

It caused you to laugh audibly and lean further into his touch, resting your cheek on his shoulder.

“Maybe you’ll get lucky tonight.” You murmured.

“Really? Two nights in a row?”

Teasingly, you shrugged, “I said maybe.”

“Fuck … you’re actually a nightmare.”

You scoffed, reeling back and slapping him playfully.

“Nah, a good nightmare. My favourite nightmare.”

“Okay, ew, cringe.”

“Bro!” He huffed, “Can’t a guy compliment his mrs anymore?”

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After another battle with another car park and struggling to get out, you managed to make it home safely. The boys gave a quick scan of the shitty bathroom that had been contaminated before getting changed to go out.

You sighed, shaking your head as you held Arabella on your chest on the sofa.

“Bro, just leave her here and come with us.” Chip suggested jokingly, “She’ll be fine.”

“Chip, I’m not leaving my two-year-old at home by herself so I can go out drinking. Besides, even if I did, I would be shitting it the entire time I was out. It’s okay. Have fun, me and Bella will have a little girls night at home.”

Alfie came jogging down the stairs in his new outfit, fitting a cap over his head and adjusting the belt that was holding up his black denim jeans.

“I’ll see you in a bit. Call me if you need me, I love you.” He rambled, pressing a kiss to your forehead and lips twice.

He felt guilty about you not being able to come out and drink with them on the strip, and he really did want you to come along with them. However there was a two-year-old that needed managing and Alfie was there for an actual video shoot with Chip, meanwhile you were technically only there because of him and his inability to leave you and your daughter alone for longer than three days at a time.

“Bye, love you too.” You grinned, kissing him once more before they left.

Indeed, you and Arabella had a lovely girls night in.

You put on some random cartoon for her to enjoy while you ordered some food.

You went through the photos you’d taken throughout the day, favouriting the ones you were going to use in your Instagram before looking back and finding your daughter passed out, drooling onto a pillow.

You smiled softly at the sight of her asleep, and reached over, caressing her cheek and dotting kisses along her face.

She truly was your peace on Earth and the reason you woke up in the morning.

Her being unconscious only encouraged you to wrap up downstairs and go up to bed. You switched off the lights, although you knew the boys were likely to return in the early hours of the morning and cause some sort of ruckus, and took yourself and your daughter upstairs for bed.

When Alfie came home that night, he immediately made his way toward your shared bedroom.

He knocked at first, just to give you a warning of another presence, before walking in. He half expected to find you awake and doomscrolling, but what he did find was even better.

You had completely passed out, sprawled across the mattress next to your two-year-old (despite her having her own bed in the room). And to make things better, you were in nothing but one of his shirts.

It was moments like these that really reminded Alfie of why he kept going, of why he did the things that he does.

It was all for you.

He shifted Arabella out of your bed and into her own before stripping down into his boxers and sliding into bed beside you.

With a whine, you ended up snuggling right up to him, latching onto his bare torso.

“Alright, girl?”

Your response was a muffled nothing, something you gave him whilst being in the space between half-asleep and full unconsciousness.

He snorted, letting you curl yourself fully around him before returning the favour, making sure everything was perfect in the little space of his family before letting his eyes shut for the night.

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As promised, in the morning of your last day, you got in the car and went straight to the basket ride down the mountain.

On the way there, you, Alfie and Arabella made sure to call his mum to wish her a happy birthday. She was elated to see her son and the family he’d created, uttering an emotional ‘thank you’ before letting you go to queue up and resume filming for Chip’s channel.

You were a massive fan of Alfie’s outfit today. It was just something about your man in a crew neck jumper that really did it for you.

He had Arabella in his arms again, being cramped into a little basket next to Chip with her in his lap was rather humorous to you as you giggled before being shoved next to Greg.

“Well, this is cozy.” You commented mindlessly.

“Reader, don’t say that. You’ll make me feel like your mistress.” Greg joked as the men on the back of your basket began pushing you down it.

“Mistress?!” You guffawed, cheeks beginning to hurt from how much you’d smiled already this morning.

“I don’t know what it’s called! What’s the male version of mistress?”

“Greg.”

“Ooo, yeah, true.”

Halfway down the road, you managed to pick up quite a bit of speed, which spooked you a little and you couldn’t help but wonder how Arabella was doing ahead of you.

You couldn’t hear her crying, which was a good start.

In fact, she was having a whale of a time. She was clinging tight to her dad while giggling down his ear, enjoying the feeling of the wind in her hair.

At the bottom of the hill, you all got out and reunited.

Arabella was beaming.

Her eyes were half shut and there were tears streaming down her cheeks from the wind hitting them, but she was grinning like the Cheshire Cat nonetheless.

“Fun?” You gasped at her.

“So fun!” She giggled, dancing around your feet.

There were some pictures to collect that had been grabbed on the way down, so once those were paid for and in your possession, you moved on to finding somewhere to grab a drink.

There was a vending machine nearby, to which Chip grabbed an original, and a white Monster, whereas you grabbed a diet coke for yourself and water for Arabella.

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You ended up going for brunch in a little cafe where all the boys ended up ordering far too much for themselves, especially Chip, who was already groaning despite there being half a plate of food left for him to devour.

Arabella was shovelling porridge into her mouth, rather strategically flicking the banana slices to the side and ignoring them.

“Eat them, please.” You said, picking up on her habit.

She whined but slid it onto her spoon with her fingers anyway.

“Thank you.”

“Here.” Alfie coughed, sliding one of his sausages onto your plate.

You gave him a bamboozled look, but the way he was leaning back into his chair and groaning told you that his eyes had been bigger than his belly once more. You rolled your eyes at him but indulged in the food he’d given to you anyway, cutting it up beforehand.

It was then that you noticed Arabella shifting uncomfortably in her seat and tugging at the hem of her skirt.

“Alfie, can you take her to the toilet please?”

He sighed and stood from the table.

“Don’t huff at me.” You retorted.

“Wh— I didn’t!”

“Daddy.” Bella slid off the chair, trotting from foot to foot excessively.

“Alright, I know. Let’s go.” He guided her towards the restroom after taking the bag you’d packed in case of any emergencies or accidents.

“He listens to you so well.” Greg cackled, “Honestly, I’ve never seen a man be more obedient.”

“Good.” You shrugged, “I didn’t carry our child for nine months and tear my vagina for him to sit around and do nothing.”

“Fairs. I hear it.” Chip nodded, reluctantly taking a bite of toast as to not waste so much food.

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The CR7 was not your first choice of afternoon activity, and it wasn’t entertaining to you or Arabella in the slightest, however, you did have a very amusing time taking the piss out of all the statues for looking nothing like Ronaldo in the slightest.

It was funny how an entire building dedicated to one person could get so many things about his facial symmetry and harmony wrong.

The only thing that did seem to catch your daughter's attention, was the massive statue of Ronaldo made from chocolate.

“Look at that Bells, all chocolate.” Alfie hummed.

“Yummy.”

“Yeah, but you can’t eat it.”

“Otay. No hungry.” She turned her back on both Alfie and the statue.

“Okay, you’re not hungry anyway, that’s good.” He chuckled as Greg keeled over, watching the two year old walk away from her dad like he meant nothing to her.

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Going back to the house and mucking about by the pool might’ve been the highlight of your trip. Just you, your daughter, your boyfriend, and his mates splashing about and cracking jokes left right and centre.

“Alfie!” You screamed as he jumped in right next to you, sending a tidal wave your way.

Greg, for some reason, had brought all the hats he’d acquired down, and was swapping between wearing them all in the pool.

Arabella was sitting on the side, her little legs dangling into the water, feet swaying back and forth as she watched you with a smile.

Chip was reclined back on a sun bed, still wearing his entire outfit (shoes included) and blowing into the air holes of her armbands, filling them up so she could put them on and go for a swim.

“Arab, here!” He exclaimed once they were done.

She toddled over to him, cautious of the wet decking around her and let him slide the rings onto her arm.

And then she was in; swimming around her dad, clambering up his torso and splashing you.

“Under!” She begged.

“No, you can’t. It’s not safe.” Alfie shook his head.

With a huff, she turned her back on her dad in the water, but still let him hold onto her.

“Hold onto my arm, here.” He patted his forearm.

Once she was latched on, he held his arm out and spun around, making her squeal in joy at the water coating her face.

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The time spent by the pool was brief, because Chip had other plans of going to see a statue designated to Jesus.

The skies had cleared up by the time you reached the monument, and a few jokes about God being the reason why were passed between your group.

You’d wrapped your hand around the meat of Alfie’s bicep, vlogging for him as he held Arabella in his other arm. Her legs were far too tired from all the kicking and swimming, and she was adamant about being carried for the rest of the day.

If anything, this trip had taught you that maybe paying the extra fee on a plane for a pushchair is worth it, and you’ll definitely be doing so next time you go away, because although Alfie had no issues hauling his daughter around all day, it did feel a little unfair to you that he didn’t have full mobility.

Unfortunately, all the boys were still super gassy, and Chip began chuckling loudly after an audible fart.

“You can’t fart on Jesus, bro.” Greg groaned.

“Wait, did you just emote on him?” Alfie chuckled, “Ah, so much of this is gonna be a toss up of who—“ He waved his hands up and down in a motion that had Arabella giggling, “Oh yeah, six sevennn.”

She cackled loudly, repeating the action.

“Your baby’s brainrotted, bro. Two years old and doing 67. Cooked.” Chip tutted, shaking his head.

You spent a few minutes taking photos, laughing as Chip did some rather questionable poses while Greg held his phone.

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The wind was mental, and you weren’t even properly on the coast.

You were stood on a hilly section as Chip and Frampton went back and forth about which Star Wars scene was filmed here, and whether it was actually here, or on a separate island just off the coast.

“Mummy, cold.” Arabella tugged on the sleeve of your shirt.

“I know, it is chilly, isn’t it?”

One look at Alfie and he was making a trip to the car and back, returning with a little blue GAP hoodie, zipping it up at her front so she was warm enough to still stand there as Chip got some content for his video.

You did end up making your way further to the edge of the hill, so much so that you could taste the salt in the air from the ocean.

Greg had snuck Arabella the KitKat he’d bought her yesterday, and she was currently sitting amongst the grass, breaking it up herself and making her way through it.

“Bella, wanna get a picture with mummy?” You cooed, sitting next to her and pulling out your phone.

She grinned at the camera as you snapped a few photos before putting it away and staying in your position on the grass, enjoying the view from the floor. It was also good to rest your feet for a little while.

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For dinner, everyone had relied on Alfie finding a good spot, and judging by the looks of things on the menus, he hadn’t done too bad. There were some good pasta options for Arabella and yourself, and the boys were most definitely eyeing up all the meaty options.

Frampton ordered a pizza, Chip a chicken parm, Greg some bolognese (matching with Arabella) and Alfie was sharing a large pizza with you.

The food was very good, and you were very pleased with Alfie’s decision.

Despite having a good meal, once you were all back at the house, your boyfriend was stuffing his face with dry cereal on a sun lounger hole while Greg splashed about in the pool again.

“Despite not doing much stuff, and it’s all been a little bit weird, I’ve had the best time of my life.” He said, leaning on the decking to talk.

“Well, ladies and gentlemen, on that note, we say goodbye to Madeira, and we say goodbye to you.” Chip spoke to the camera.

“Bye!” Arabella yelled obnoxiously while throwing one of her barbie dolls in pool.

“Yeah, she’s far too hyper, I’m not happy.” Alfie shook his head, watching his daughter mess about.

“It’s gonna be awful putting her to bed.” You commented.

“Oh, don’t even!” He groaned, throwing his head back, “Bells, do you wanna just go to bed now?” He tried, despite knowing it wouldn’t even remotely work.

“No!”