#with drew

This time, he stirred. His brow furrowed before his blue eyes slowly blinked open.

“Hmm? What’s wrong?” he mumbled, still half-asleep.

“I think my water just broke,” you said softly, offering a small, nervous smile.

The words took a moment to register, but when they did, Drew bolted upright.

“What?!” His voice was shock and excitement.

“Oh my god, it’s happening! Are you okay? How are you feeling? Is it bad? What do I do?” He scrambled out of bed, nearly tripping over the duvet in his rush.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his frantic reaction, though it was cut short by another contraction.

“I’m okay, but we should probably get to the hospital soon. Can you calm down, though? I don’t need two emergencies tonight.”

“Right, right,” he said, running a hand through his messy hair.

He grabbed the hospital bag you’d packed weeks ago, holding it like it was the most precious cargo.

“Let’s go!”

“Wait,” you said, stopping him. “I need to change my pants first.”

“Oh. Right.” He was back at your side in an instant, helping you up with his hands steady on your arms.

His gaze was full of concern as he scanned your face.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Does it hurt a lot?”

“The contractions are getting closer, but they’re manageable,” you replied, leaning into him as he helped you change.

“But yeah, we really need to go now.”

At the hospital, Drew took charge, answering questions from the nurse about how far you are, are you on any special medication and filling out the paperwork as you were wheeled into your room.

Once you were settled, Drew pulled a chair next to your bed, gripping your hand tightly.

“How are you feeling now?” he asked, his voice soft yet anxious.

“I’m okay for now,” you said, though the contractions were growing stronger and more frequent.

“I didn’t realize how many needles they’d stick in me during all this.”

Drew gave a small laugh, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead.

“You’re handling it like a champ. I don’t think I’d survive five minutes of this.”

Another contraction hit, and you gripped his hand tightly, your breathing uneven. Drew immediately shifted closer, his voice calm and steady.

“Breathe, Y/N. In and out, baby. You’ve got this.”

Hours and hours has passed, and Drew never left your side. He held your hand through every contraction, rubbed your back when the pain became overwhelming, and even tried to make you laugh to keep your spirits up. When you hit the ten-hour mark, Drew suddenly pulled out the camcorder from his sister Brooke, who had brought it to document the big day.

“What are you doing?” you asked, raising an eyebrow despite your exhaustion.

“Making a video for Rustyn,” he said, grinning. “Something for him to watch when he’s older.”

He turned the camera to himself first, his smile lighting up the room.

“Hey, Rustyn. It’s your dad. It’s 6 a.m., and you’re really taking your time, buddy. But that’s okay, we’re waiting patiently. Well, your mom’s doing all the work.”

Turning the camera toward you, he continued,

“And here’s your mom. Look at her, look how incredible she is. The strongest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. You better treat her like a queen when you grow up, okay?”

Despite the pain, you laughed softly. “Drew, stop making me laugh, it hurts!”

He chuckled, then turned the camera toward Brooke, who was pacing in the corner.

“And here’s your Aunt Brooke, who’s been on the edge of her seat all night.”

“Rustyn, ignore your dad,” Brooke said, rolling her eyes. “I’m much cooler than he is, and I can’t wait to spoil you.”

When the doctor finally announced it was time to push, Drew’s nerves hit an all-time high. He squeezed your hand tightly, his other hand brushing the sweat-dampened hair from your face.

“You’ve got this, Y/N,” he said, his voice shaking slightly but full of love. “I’m so proud of you.”

The first push was overwhelming, and you let out a cry of frustration.

“I can’t do this,” you said, tears streaming down your face. “Drew, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” he said firmly, his eyes locking with yours.

“You’re the strongest person I know. Just one push at a time, baby. I’m right here.”

With each push, he offered constant encouragement.

“That’s it, Y/N. You’re doing amazing. Our boy’s almost here. I love you so much.”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a loud cry filled the room. Tears immediately welled up in Drew’s eyes as the doctor placed your baby boy on your chest.

Drew was trembling as he leaned over, his eyes fixed on the tiny baby in your arms.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Y/N, he’s perfect.”

You stared down at Rustyn, overwhelmed by love and relief. His tiny fingers curled against your chest, his cries subsiding as he felt your warmth.

“We did it,” you whispered, tears streaming down your cheeks, happy tears.

“No,” Drew said, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“You did it. You’re amazing.”

The nurses congratulated you both, while Brooke captured every moment on the camcorder. Drew leaned down, his forehead resting gently against yours.

“I love you so much, Y/N. Thank you for giving me him.”

“What should we name him?” you asked softly, your voice shaky with emotion.

Drew didn’t hesitate. “Rustyn. Rustyn Starkey.”

You nodded, smiling down at your son. “Rustyn. It’s perfect.”

Drew reached out, brushing a finger over Rustyn’s tiny hand.

“Babe?”

Drew’s voice echoed gently through the hallway.

“Rusty says he forgot to brush his teeth, but I told him it builds character.”

You laughed softly, careful not to jostle Lola.

“My god, Drew you’re the worst.”

He stepped into the room and paused mid-stride.

You could feel it the moment his eyes landed on you. The warmth in his gaze.

“You know,” he said slowly, hands in his hoodie pockets, “you look so damn good like that.”

You raised a brow.

“Leaking milk and all?”

“Especially leaking milk,”

He grinned, walking over and crouching next to the rocking chair.

“There’s something seriously sexy about you like this.”

“You’re so weird.”

“Am I though?” His tone dropped a bit, teasing.

“I was thinking… maybe I could have a taste.”

Your jaw dropped in mock offense.

“Drew Starkey.”

He raised his hands in defense, eyes twinkling.

“What? I’ve done it before.”

You gave him a look. “You gagged.”

“Okay, I gagged once. But my palate’s matured. I’m a changed man.”

“Oh really?” you smirked.

“A milk connoisseur now?”

“Exactly. Think of it like a wine tasting. ‘Hints of honey, slight almond finish…’” he pretended to swirl a glass and sniff it dramatically.

You laughed, shaking your head.

“You’re out of your mind.”

“But you love it,” he whispered, leaning closer.

You bit your lip, eyeing him playfully.

“Fine. But you’re not getting it directly from the tap.”

“I could use a cup,” he offered, but his grin said otherwise.

“Thought so,”

You teased, reaching for the pump and prepping a small portion into one of Lola’s bottles. You handed it to him, raising an eyebrow.

“Behold, vintage 2025.”

He took the bottle, looked at it… and immediately handed it back.

“Nope. Doesn’t feel right.”

You rolled your eyes.

“What now?”

He shifted closer, voice low and eyes mischievous.

“It just feels… sterile. If I’m gonna do this, I want the real experience, I mean straight from the source.”

“You mean you want to nurse.”

“Not nurse! Just… taste. In a very manly, experimental way.”

You tried to keep a straight face.

“You want a little sip from Mommy?”

Drew groaned.

“Don’t say it like that, now I’m nervous.”

You giggled, setting the bottle aside.

“You sure? You flinch and I swear-”

“Scout’s honor.”

Lola had finished by then, little lips pursed in sleep, her body warm and limp in your arms. You adjusted your sweatshirt, gently laid her down in the bassinet, and turned back to Drew who was already halfway in your lap.

“You’re really committing to this, huh?”

You murmured, brushing your fingers through his hair.

“Anything for love. And science,” he whispered.

You offered yourself to him, half amused, half endeared. He leaned in, kissed your skin first, slow, soft, reverent then took a small sip.

A beat.

Another.

Then he pulled back with wide eyes.

“…Okay,” he whispered.

“That’s actually kind of amazing?”

You blinked. “Really?”

He nodded. “Sweeter than I remembered. Like warm vanilla oat milk.”

You laughed. “Now you’re just flattering me.”

“Maybe,”

He said, climbing onto the chair and pulling you into his lap instead.

“But you’re kinda magic, you know that?”

You nestled into his chest, your head tucked beneath his chin, both of you watching Lola’s tiny chest rise and fall in the bassinet.

“You know,” you whispered,

“If you start crying during a Starbucks order because they’re out of oat milk, I’m cutting you off.”

He chuckled, kissing the top of your head.

Rustyn, sitting beside Drew on a chair with his little legs swinging, gasped.

“Uh oh, Dada. Mama used your full name.”

Drew swallowed. “I know, buddy. I know.”

You let out a deep breath, trying to relax between contractions, and Rustyn leaned in, giving you a big, bright smile.

“Mama, you’re so strong!”

Despite the pain, your heart melted.

“Thank you, baby,” you said, managing to squeeze his little hand with your free one.

Drew grinned. “Yeah, Mama is the strongest.”

“Stronger than you, Dada?” Rustyn asked, tilting his head.

“Absolutely,” Drew nodded without hesitation.

“She’s, like, ten times stronger than me.”

Rustyn gasped again, eyes wide.

“Whoa.”

Just then, another contraction hit, and you groaned, squeezing Drew’s hand so hard that he made a small strangled noise.

“Okay, okay, definitely twenty times stronger,” he choked out.

Rustyn giggled. “You okay, Dada?”

“Peachy,” Drew wheezed.

A few hours, the most beautiful sound in the world filled the room.

Your baby girl’s first cry.

Tears welled up in your eyes as they placed the tiny, wriggling bundle onto your chest. The moment you felt her warmth against you, every ounce of pain melted away.

“Hi, baby girl,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

Drew pressed a shaky kiss to your forehead, his eyes misty as he stared at your daughter in pure awe.

“She’s so perfect,” he murmured.

Not long after, once you were settled in a recovery room, the door creaked open, and Rustyn peeked inside hesitantly. The second he saw you awake and holding his baby sister, his little face lit up like Christmas morning.

“Mama!” he whispered excitedly, running over.

Drew scooped him up so he could see better, letting him sit beside you on the hospital bed.

Rustyn’s eyes widened as he stared at his sister.

“She’s so small,” he whispered, as if afraid to wake her.

You smiled. “She’ll grow, just like you did.”

He squinted, inspecting her face closely.

“Mama, she has your nose!”

Then he turned to his Dad, Drew. “And Dada’s eyes!”

You laughed softly.

“Just like you, Rusty.”

Rustyn beamed proudly, puffing his chest out.

“I knew she’d be cool like me!”

Drew chuckled, pressing a kiss to Rustyn’s temple.

“Of course, buddy. She’s got the best big brother in the world.”

Rustyn grinned, then suddenly turned serious.

“Mama?”

“Yes, baby?”

“You were so strong,” he said with pure admiration.

“Like… like a superhero!”

Your heart melted into a puddle right then and there.

“That means a lot, Rusty,” you whispered, kissing his cheek.

Drew leaned in, whispering in Rustyn’s ear,

“Hey, you know what we should do for Mama? We should let her pick the name.”

Rustyn nodded eagerly.

“Yeah, Mama should!”

You looked between your boys, then down at your daughter’s tiny sleeping face. The name you had been thinking of for months suddenly felt so right.

“Lola Mae,” you said softly.

Drew let out a soft laugh, his hand resting on your back.

“Lola Mae Starkey. That’s perfect.”

Rustyn gasped dramatically.

“Oooh, I like it!”

Drew pulled you in for a kiss, lingering for a long moment, his thumb gently rubbing circles on your back.

“Thank you,” he murmured against your lips.

“For her. For him. For us.”

Rustyn sighed dreamily.

“Wow, so romantic,” he mumbled to himself, making Drew chuckle against your lips.

You broke the kiss, laughing softly.

“Rusty, where did you learn that word?”

He shrugged. “I watch movies, Mama.”

Drew ruffled his hair.

“Alright, Casanova, let’s let Mama rest, huh?”

Rustyn nodded, carefully reaching out a tiny hand to his baby sister.

“I can’t wait to play dinosaurs with you, Sissy,” he whispered to her.

You held Drew’s hand as you both walked into the small coffee shop, a place that had become a quiet favorite of yours over the past few months. It wasn’t too crowded, the baristas were nice, and most importantly, they made the best iced vanilla lattes.

Drew was half-distracted, scrolling through his phone with his free hand, probably checking a text from his agent.

Meanwhile, you stepped up to the counter, ordering your usual and Drew’s preferred cold brew. He grinned at you, pocketing his phone and wrapping an arm around your shoulder while the barista rang you up.

The moment the drinks were placed on the counter, you thanked the barista, grabbed your cup, and turned to Drew, expecting him to do the same. Except—

He was already walking out the door.

With his drink.

That he did not pay for.

Your eyes widened as you called after him.

“DREW, YOU JUST STOLE THAT.”

Drew, mid-sip, froze in place.

His blue eyes widened in sheer horror as he turned to look at you, then at the store, then at the drink in his hand. You could practically hear the gears turning in his head.

“I THOUGHT I BOUGHT IT.”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing as he stood there, looking like a deer caught in headlights. The barista behind the counter blinked at him, half-amused, half-confused.

“Babe,” you whispered through your giggles, walking toward him.

“You didn’t even take out your wallet.”

Drew’s face turned a shade of pink you rarely saw.

“Oh my god. Oh. my god.”

His voice came out in panicked whispers before he turned on his heel and sprinted, actually sprinted back inside.

What happened next would be forever etched into your memory.

Drew dramatically dug into his pocket, pulled out a handful of bills, and threw them onto the counter.

“I AM SO SORRY,” he announced, as if he had just committed a grand felony.

“I SWEAR I DIDN’T MEAN TO—I WAS JUST—I GOT DISTRACTED AND—”

The barista, bless his soul, simply nodded.

“Happens all the time, dude.”

But Drew wasn’t done.

“I SWEAR I’M NOT A CRIMINAL.”

You lost it.

You actually doubled over laughing, tears pricking at your eyes as Drew continued his over-apologizing spree. The poor barista just gave him a thumbs-up, clearly unsure of what to do with the sixteen dollars Drew had thrown at him for a four-dollar drink.

“Baby,” you wheezed, stepping beside him.

“I think they forgive you.”

Drew exhaled dramatically, running a hand through his hair as if he had just survived a life-threatening event. He turned to you with a sheepish expression.

“I panicked.”

You wrapped an arm around his waist, grinning up at him.

“I noticed.”

He groaned, hiding his face in your hair.

“I can never come back here again.”

The barista, who was definitely going to tell this story later… cleared his throat.

“No worries, man. I’ll just put a ‘Wanted’ poster up with your face.”

You cackled as Drew shot him a look of pure betrayal.

“Bro, don’t do me like that.”

Still laughing, you tugged on Drew’s hoodie, pulling him toward the door.

“Come on, Bonnie, let’s go before you accidentally commit another crime.”

Drew huffed but followed you, his arm slung lazily around your shoulders as you walked back to the car. He glanced down at you, a lopsided smile playing on his lips.

“You’re never letting me live this down, are you?”

You smirked.

“Not a chance, Clyde.”