Harry X Reader - Blog Posts

My absolute fave of yours!!! I’ve probably read it like 14 times🫶🏻🤭🫶🏻🤭🫶🏻🤭🫶🏻

TELLING | h. lewis

summary: you tell all your closest friends and family the news! [9.5k words.]

pairing: reader x bog (W2S.)

notes: loveddd writing this 😭 enjoy!! plz let me know what you thought!! who was your fav?!! and don’t forget to reblog <333

“I JUST DON'T KNOW HOW TO TELL ANYBODY.”

You were standing in your room, biting your nails, suitcase laying open on the bed where Harry lay with a leg hanging off the side. He still had his coat on but his shoes kicked off as you’d both just come straight home from the hospital, where you’d had your first scan at 10 weeks.

“Why are you biting your nails?”

“‘Cause I feel like I'm 14 again and about to tell my Mum I’m pregnant!” You spat, feeling the nerves creep up you.

You had everyone to tell now. Now that you’d had your first proper scan where you can visibly see your babies, told they were as healthy with a steady heartbeat, you had no reason holding you back from sharing the good news.

Especially with a 10 week belly — you’d already began looking a little round in your t-shirts.

“Y/n, I–I don’t know how long I can keep it in. Do you know how hard this has been for me? Do you know how much self-control it has cost me to not blurt something out?” Harry went on a rant as he starred into the abyss, thinking of the last 2 months and the company he’d been in — the company of his best friends almost every single day, keeping this humongous secret.

“But how do we tell them?! Like . .” you stood there, lost, not knowing what to do. “When’s the perfect time?”

“Any time! Look at the size of you already!” Your mouth dropped open offendedly, “they’ll see it before they’re told! They’ll know soon enough if we have to go to one more party and you have to explain your alcohol cleanse or cover your non-alcoholic label on your tin!”

“ . . Harry, that was really mean what you said.”

“Oh for fucks sake!”

The first people you had to tell — was your parents. His parents and yours. Of course it would have to be, could you imagine their reaction if they knew you’d told all your friends before them?! They would be the only people you’d have to do it a certain way — a sentimental, special way . . wasn’t it? You were going to Guernsey anyway for the week, your case half-packed by the time you stopped to scroll through announcement ideas that weren’t too over the top, while Harry proceeded twisting and frowning at the scan, trying to suss out what position who was in and if he was (impossibly) able to identify who was what gender. It really had been the hardest 10 weeks of your lives, for a pair that was open with everyone in their circle, so Harry couldn’t wait to get some relief on his shoulders, while you somehow believed everyone was going to be mad at you.

“Oh my — no, I can’t do this— no—”

“OW Y/N!” Harry’s ripped his arm from your nipped nails, throwing your a glare as he changed gear.

“Sorry! Sorry!” You withdrew your hands to yourself, not meaning to dig your nails into him so hard - you were just nervous and didn’t know what to do with yourself. You were just one lane down the road from pulling up to his family’s home, feeling your fingers shake and your knees weaken as you sat in the front seat, scared to face them. “I’m just nervo—”

“YEAH. I KNOW. I KNOW YOU ARE,” he looked at you between the sudden red light, leaning his head and arm on the window, he could have laughed at your statement. Gosh! Well you don’t say! You’d been a nightmare this ride over. If it wasn’t getting him to pull over every 10 minutes for the toilet, it was criticizing his driving just 10 times more than usual.

“WELL SORRY I’M SCARED. Can’t wait to see you when it’s you telling my dad he’s gonna have a grandchild.”

Do not even remind me, Harry closed his eyes, already on edge as it was driving down the street.

You both had a little white box each, one disguised as a box of cake, the other, a box of cake, just so they didn’t suspect something odd when you walked in with one tied with a little ribbon. “Calm down.”

“NOW DON'T TOUCH MY LEG ‘CAUSE YOU GET ANGRY WHEN I TOUCH YOURS!”

“YEAH! ‘Cause when you touch mine you—” he did it! Slipping his hand right in between your thighs and tickling the inside, under part of it - the most ticklish spot on your body. You jumped and clawed his hand off, feeling the car slightly nudge as he carried on, laughing and smiling proudly, “NOW HARRY, DRIVE THE CAR!” You yelled, trying not to get all flustered as you threw him a look, “—and stop looking so sexy doing it!”

The hormones would be the end of him. He couldn’t hack you having 2 emotions at once. He shook his head at that, his hand at the bottom of the wheel as he carefully turned it to the left as he pulled into his driveway.

Fuck me, you mentally whined, scared the box would drop from your hand. It was only a little announcement: 2 babygrows inside, two dummies in opposite corners and your pregnancy test in the middle.

“Think it’s a bit weird you put the stick you pissed on in it,” Harry pursed his lips as you fixed it neatly one more time.

“Well I think it’s a bit weird I’ve to look your family in the eye and basically tell them you spunked in me, so,” you screwed your face up, not caring what he thought.

Great, now you were walking in with a moody face, his Mum watching you make your way inside from the window, questioning what on earth her son said to you.

But you greeted her with the biggest smile, holding out an arm as you balanced the box in the other, embracing one another in the cutest hug. “Hello my darling!”

“How are you,” you smiled, hearing the door close behind you, “brought you a little cake,” you held the false box up before placing it on the counter.

Harry walked in after, raising the same box to show he had ‘the same’ before crouching to hug his Mum. “Where’s Dad?”

“Right there,” she pointed to him just outside the house, waving in through the window to let you know he would be 2 seconds to come see you both.

“Where’s Josh? And Rosie?” He added, casually leaning on the counter, folding his arms.

“Up the stairs. Any more questions?” She joked, turning on the kettle.

The two of you made eye contact, not knowing when to make the first move.

“What cake did you bring me?”

You made eye contact again, Harry moving out of the way and handing you the box. “Mum, I'll make the tea, you can sit down,” he offered, coming into her space and forcing her out of the corner.

“Oh, alright then,” she sat down at the table, eyeing the box in your hand, “what is it Y/n?”

“I think it’s just a Black Forest gateau,” you opened the lid for her to see it.

“What's the other one?”

“Just . . some buns . .” Harry smirked to himself stirring his mug, “DAD! Do you want a cup of tea?!” He nodded for his dad to come inside.

You nervously tucked your hair behind your ear and reached for a knife to cut the cake, beginning to feel a little sweaty in the kitchen. “JOSH! ROSIE! DO YOU WANT A CUP OF TEA?!” He yelled even louder, shouting at them more so than for them. You worried if he was now a little on edge. You squeezed his muscle and he put his hand on your back for a second, rubbing it as he reached for the milk. “OR CAKE?!”

You heard thumping upstairs in response to that, guessing Josh was now rushing to get out of the shower and Rosie finally bringing all her dishes and bottles downstairs.

He gave you a little nudge at the back of your leg, impatient for the others, feeling like now was the perfect time.

Oof. Here it goes.

Your fingers twitched. “Uh,” you scratched your hair, sliding the box onto the table, “do you want one of these?” You lifted the lid, and her face fell.

It fell . . into complete, and utter — shock.

She starred at the pregnancy test, the first thing to take her eyes. “NO!”

“No?” You squeaked out confused.

“AGH!” She shrieked, standing up, the chair scraping against the tiled floor as her hands flew to her mouth, cupping it in disbelief while her eyes stayed stuck on the box, glossed. “NO!” She refused. There was no way. There was absolutely no way.

That was not yours. This wasn’t serious.

You were both having her on.

“NO!” She repeated again, this time turning her head to you, and to Harry who was giddily laughing at his Mum freak out.

“Yes Mum, I promise! I promise,” he approached her slowly.

“N—” she paused, thinking of what to say, and again, “no!” except her voice croaked this time, the tears in her eyes fully filled to the brim as she shook her head in denial, feeling like she was dreaming. “No, you’re lying to me! They’re yours?” You could barely make out what she was saying, her voice had turned so chokey and dry. You were nodding exaggeratedly, concerned at her face, feeling like you were about to cry seeing her like this.

She was really, really heartfelt. This was too much for her to take. You just kept nodding! “Yes! Yes, they're mine, I took the test!” You assured, slowly reaching your arms out to her.

She was frozen. Her head whipped to you and whipped to Harry, and when she looked at you both, seeing Harry give a little awkward laugh while rubbing your back — she crumbled.

She fell to her seat, hands covering her face and she sobbed. Harry looked at you, completely lost on what to do while you looked at him with tears of your own, your heart bursting for the woman. This was the best reaction. “Mum,” he awkwardly laughed again, “Mum, are you okay?” He placed a hand on her shoulder. Her head raised as she placed her hand over his, wiping her eyes with her knuckles, she couldn’t get the words out. She was honestly awestruck. The lump in her throat felt like a rock, it was too painful to talk. “Mum,” Harry laughed, trying to get her to calm down, looking at you for help. “Mum.”

She held his arm and then stood up, going for the full embrace, she gripped him, hiding her face in her hand as her son hugged her, he was laughing and you were crying, reaching to turn the box for her to look at properly again.

“What’s going on in here?”

Harry’s Dad walked through the back door and at the question, his Mum burst out into proper tears, shrieking she gripped her husband's arm and pulled him over to the box, “H-HONE — LOOK!” She stood behind him as glanced into the box, and you caught how his mouth fell open and he reached to lift the stick at the top.

Harry’s Mum cried aloud, “Oh I can’t, you two!” She wailed, drying her eyes before jumping to you, realising she hadn’t hugged nor congratulated you yet. “My darling!” She cried, wrapping her arms around your neck before rocking you both. Both your shoulders were soaked with the other’s tears. “Are you for real? Are you serious?” She pulled away to hold your shoulders, needing the confirmation although she was already so far gone.

“I’m serious! I promise you,” you nodded again, smiling, and that only made her cry more — because, well just look at you! The daughter-in-law of her dreams!

You led her to the other chair so the two sat down, the box between them. Harry’s poor Mum’s hands were shaking covering her mouth and his Dad couldn’t stop starring and inspecting the contents inside. The smile was stuck on his face. “Is this actually real?”

“Mum, yes!” Harry nearly groaned, completely humored by both his parents’ state of shock. “Actually,” he looked to you confusedly, “do you not have the . .”

“OH!” You jumped to your handbag, pulling out the set of photographs you’d just received a couple days ago to show them. You let the collage fall open so all 5 photos were revealed.

She wailed even more. “PISS OFF!” She cried even more, reaching for the photos, and the pair of them sat starring at those as well, completely shocked that they were them. That they were real. They were yours. You were growing them.

You were growing their grandchild.

She sat crying even more at the table while you and Harry accepted the fact you weren’t getting a ‘congratulations’ until they both calmed down. It was heartwarming though, your heart a puddle as you watched them both take in and struggle to adjust to the news.

You heard a thunder of feet come downstairs and turning the corner into the kitchen, Josh and Rosie poked their heads in suspiciously, wondering what all the racket was about. “What happened?”

Their dad held up the scans and both their faces fell.

Their heads turned to you, and to their brother. “NO.”

“Swear to God,” Harry held up his hands to prove he wasn’t lying, and from the way he smile and the soft, awkward laugh — they knew this wasn’t a prank.

Their brother had really put you up the duff.

“Fuck off!!” Josh jumped into his brothers arms for a quick second like they were Shaggy and Scooby-Doo while Rosie’s hand slammed to her mouth as she rushed to look at the box.

She couldn’t believe her eyes. “NO.”

Oh my God? What was with this family and no? “Yes,” you confirmed, blocking out Josh and Harry jumping up and down in the kitchen.

You hugged Rosie for the longest time, a lump forming in her throat the thought of you making her an Auntie. You. Literally, one of her favourite people in the world - if not the one. The big sister she never had. The one who always treated her like an adult even when she was 15, and invited her around to your house with your friends when her own didn’t bother to ask. Her best friend. Not many could say that about their brother’s girlfriends, but with you — Rosie thought the world of you.

All the family did.

“Oh my God,” she sniffed, smiling through wet eyes, “congratulations?!” She hugged you, and hugged her brother, who rubbed her arm comfortingly. What the hell. Her brother was going to be a dad. He was going to have a child.

“Are you serious?” Josh asked you, coming over to see if you would tell him the honest truth, and while you put your arm around his waist and nodded with your hand on your chest, he still refused to believe it.

“Uncle Joshhh,” you sang, making a breakthrough as the name seemed to bring everyone down to reality.

Uncle Josh. Auntie Rosie. Nana and Grandpa.

Great, just make everyone in the family feel older than they are.

“Oh my God . . . ” their mum finally mumbled into her hand, feeling like she was just starting to come back down to earth.

“Do you know there’s two of them?” Harry tilted his head while flipped the picture to point at the two little circles in the scan.

“TWO?!”

“TWO?!!”

“TWO OF THEM?!”

It was so loud in this kitchen.

“TWINS?!” Rosie twisted her head up in his direction.

“Twins! Two of them!” He confirmed, smiling at the family. “Don’t ask where that came from.”

Nana-To-Be burst into a cry again, her hands back to shaking.

After a cup of tea each and a bit of cake to help ease the nerves, everyone was gathered in the kitchen, having taken almost an hour to adjust to the news but still very much shaken by it. His Mum and Dad eventually ‘officially’ congratulated you both, holding their son extra tight as if it was the last time before he set off on this adventure on his own. They told him how proud they were and how happy, and how there wasn’t anybody else they would pick for either you two to share this journey. They were overfilled with joy.

“I still can’t believe it,” his Mum muttered, tapping her nails to her third glass of tea, “two of them.” Her eyes widened.

“Where the hell did that come from?” Her husband squinted his eyes, his arms folded.

“I dunno,” Harry’s voice raised, “it says tall people have a higher chance and other shit but I am certain Y/n’s gran told me her brother was a twin or or mums brother was a twin.”

“Was he?”

“I don’t know,” you raised a shoulder. “Probably just our ‘luck’.”

“Karma, you mean,” Josh said from the counter, and somebody punched his arm.

“What did you do? How did you find out? Were you planning . . ”

“WAS I PLANNING? WAS I PLANNING TO HAVE A CHILD?” Harry retorted sarcastically, “DO I LOOK LIKE I WAS PLANNING TO HAVE A CHILD?”

Rosie laughed into her arm, feeling sorry for the pair who had her brother to deal with as a dad.

Even his Mum laughed, and Dad. Silly question.

“I found out on my own, he was filming a video.”

“Remember I told you she was sick before I went away?! And you said she’s always sick!”

“She is,” his Mum defended, knowing about your weird tick.

“Well, I knew it was a different sick. I knew something was up with my girl.” He shook his finger, as if warning them to never doubt him.

“So were you not surprised?”

“Fucking sure I was, fucking nearly fainted in the bathroom when I seen the lines. Drove to the chemist right after, bought 4 more.” He crossed his arms as he explained to them all. “Think I was drunk when she told me to be fair.”

“Did you cry?” A foot tapped you with a chuckle.

“I literally sat on our bathroom floor for about 2 hours, being like ‘they’re not my tests though’,” you laughed, “like i’ve peed on them . . but they’re for someone else.”

They laughed at you, seeing it perfectly in their head, you having a dilemma on your own.

The house was content and in silence, everyone thinking their own thing and in their own world, wondering what the house would be like a year from now, and the noise it would be filled with then, with two extra pairs of feet crawling about and squealing to fill the gaps of silence.

“I’m so happy for you two. So bloody happy,” his mum shook her head once more in disbelief, craning it to look into the box once more and feel the soft cotton on the little onesies. Onesies she’d be keeping for her little grandbabies to slip into soon. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

Making your way down the driveway to your house wasn’t that much of a different story.

“Oh your Mum is going to laugh in your face when you tell her,” Harry cackled from the front seat, holding your family’s box on his lap.

The day you had your own child (a daughter especially) was the day your Mum felt like she could kick her feet up and relax and let Karma take its course. It wasn’t that you were some horrifying, demon child to raise — but let’s just say you’d been as headstrong as you were now since you’d been born. You were just like your Mum. Good luck with that, she would say, have fun trying to explain to her why moving to London with a boy you told you’d hated throughout school isn't the best idea when she’s 17 x.

She loved the thought of grandkids though — but the best was the thought of getting to hand them back at the end of the day for you to deal with. Ugh! And she’d be a Gilf.

When you walked in, your Mum caught you on the way to the kitchen, attempting a wave to know she acknowledged you both, balancing her phone on her shoulder and holding the washing basket full of clothes for the washing machine - gossiping down the line to one of her longtime friends. Harry felt like he’d just seen you in 20 years time.

You both went in the kitchen and sat down, waiting for her to end the call as you texted your sister where your dad was. Harry sat at the table quite stiff, his eyes in a daydream and hands awkwardly rubbing the other.

OH! So, he was nervous now!

His mood only worsened when he looked up and saw you trying not to laugh at him.

“Hello my honeys,” she hugged Harry’s head under her arm and then your head as the empty wash basket preoccupied the other, “give me a minute ‘til i leave this back,” you quickly heard her footsteps up the stairs.

Sophie came downstairs with an amused expression, home for the weekend from Uni, holding her pet bunny in hand, “hello,” she greeted, leaving her mug in the sink, “what are you two doing here?”

“We have a surprise,” Harry muffled with his chin on his hand.

Your sister looked to him and looked to you, walking over with a hoaxed laugh as she peaked into the box, “what? A cake?”

You saw it, her reaction and the way her eyes widened as she legitimately opened the the box with the surprise, causing your own eyes to expand, as well as Harry’s as you both realised what she’d just done.

She was frozen, for about a minute, her hand still in place as her mouth hung open. And then they closed, and she shut her mouth, and walked out into the hallway to register what just happened.

She didn’t know what to do.

You didn’t know what to do.

Harry didn’t know what to do.

Then your Dad walked in through the door from work, smile breaking out at the sight of you both sitting at the table, “what’s happening?” He greeted, squeezing your shoulders as he passed by into the kitchen, slapping his hand to Harry’s before shaking it and patting his back.

Harry’s terrified eyes were locked on you as he squeezed your Dad’s hand, suddenly regretting all of his life choices.

“Get the kettle on,” your Mum reappeared as she entered with her mug in her hand, ready for a refill.

“Here,” Harry’s shaking hand held out the box for her to take.

“You cut it,” she encouraged, moving out of his way.

Harry looked at you confused and you didn’t know what to do either, seeing how he just got to his feet and walked to the counter confusedly. “No, Mum—”

“Plates are in the top cupboard now,” she added, stealing his seat. “Well. What have you two been up to? Did you go view that house the other day?”

You paused. Ermmm.

What? What did you do now?

“Here’s your fork,” Harry improvised, handing her the test and turned back around, and your Mum plucked it from his hand with her eyes still waiting on you for an answer.

Woman! Won’t you look!

Upon feeling the odd plastic shape instead of her heavy metal fork, she furrowed her brows at the prank before her mouth immediately went dry and fell open. Her head snapped to Harry, who was shuffled in the corner all awkward and giddy, and then to you, who pinched your lips nervously at her sharp head turn.

And then she looked back to Harry.

And then she looked back to you.

And then she looked back to Harry.

And then she looked back to you.

“ARE YOU GOING TO SAY SOMETHING?!” Sophie shouted from the doorway.

“Surprise . . ?” You raised your brows anxiously at her silent shock.

The test clanked to the table and her hands covered her mouth, her reaction much quieter than Harry’s Mum. “Are you joking?”

You slowly shook your head.

“Are you JOKING?” She repeated more so to herself, lifting a foot up to her seat as she adjusted to the news. “IS THIS A PISSTAKE?!”

“No! No, we promise, it’s for real!” Harry chirped in, trying not to laugh at your Mum’s swearing. “H—” fuck, he had to tell them there were two, “here—” he passed her the box she was originally supposed to look in. Sophie pushed past your both and came to stand next to her Mum, mouth still open as they both peaked into the box. You could see your Mum’s eyes gloss over and Sophie’s brows furrow with disgust as she inspected the stick you’d peed on.

“What’s all the shouting about?” Your Dad came out of the bathroom drying his hands, seeing two of his girls looking down into the cake box. Sophie immediately twirled around and unmeaningly pointed to Harry, “pregnant!” her eyes widened. And then she realised her mistake and moved her arm to you.

Your Dad’s brows were furrowed confusedly when your Mum held up the babygrow, and his gaze softened as he took it from her hands. You looked over at Harry to find him awkwardly picking at breadcrumbs by the toaster, avoiding eye contact.

“Are you both being serious?” Your Mum’s voice was slightly croaked as she lifted from her seat with her empty mug she desperately needed to fill with tea — or wine.

“Yes Mum, I’m being serious,” you almost sighed, wondering why everyone thought you’d be joking about this. “It’s twins!”

“TWINS?!” Glass hit the floor as the middle cracked into 5 big pieces.

“TWINS?!” Sophie shrieked.

“EH?!”

“B–Jesus Christ,” Harry’s hand covered his face as he tried to hold in his laugh at the family.

You looked at them panicked, dropping open the slides of scans you’d kept in your bag. “Yeah.”

They snatched it from you, Sophie handing you her rabbit as she inspected it like a mum does her receipt at Tesco, looking for the two blorbs identified as babies.

“AGH!” Your Mum held her chest, feeling the tears fill her eyes as she took a seat again. “Please. Please tell me this isn’t a prank.”

“Mum, for God’s sake, I’m not joking!” You almost laughed. “I’m really—” you fumbled for the words, “up the duff.”

“Knocked up?”

“Yeah, knocked up,” you scoffed at your sister’s words.

“Oh my God!” Your parents didn’t take as long adjusting to the news as Harry’s, quickly congratulating you with hugs and kisses, although, your Mum’s did come more out like a question, and Harry didn't like answering them with your Dad standing there. “—I mean . . like . . are we calling them a surprise?—”

“Yes. They’re a ‘surprise’,” you gave her a bland look.

“You think they planned them? You think they’re willingly settling down here?” Your sister stifled a laugh that even made your Mum snigger. You mocked her as she approached you. “I mean I'm kidding but . . I’m not really,” she hugged you with a playful smile, “but I am happy for you. And you,” she reached to wrap her other arm around Harry’s waist, “this will be a laugh.”

Harry laughed loudly at that because that was perfectly true.

“My babies. Where did the time go?” Your Mum looked at you both with her head on her hand. “When did you get so old?!” She cried. Where were the cute pair of teenagers who used to trot downstairs between breaks of Eastenders and raid her kitchen cupboards for biscuits? Who called to see what she was making for dinner and what Harry’s Mum was making for dinner to decide on where they would eat?

“And yet they’ve still growing up to do,” Soph mumbled as she finally moved to get her slice of cake.

“Didn’t we all?” your Dad grinned once dropping the broken glass into the bin. “They’ll figure it out. Won’t you?” He came to stand next to you, for the second time, youthful sharing a handshake with Harry to help ease his nerves. He did appreciate the nervousness to him, and the awkwardness he never really had around him. Looking at him brought back memories when it was him telling his father-in-law.

“I hope so!” Harry agreed while you raised a shoulder.

“Now don’t say that,” your Mum stressfully placed her hands on her hair, “last time you said that, they were drunk and lost in Majorca and had no passports—” your Mum began to second-guess everything.

But, despite the jokes made about having to fight with the in-laws now for the Nanny or Granny title, and concerned concepts of what you were gonna do if Harry left them upstairs to watch a match on TV, you felt the love from your household, from even your sister’s spoilt rabbit that looked like he’d melted on you with the way he lay on your chest.

But then the remarks came from your Mum — ‘what about your festivals? Where are they going then?’, ‘Y/n, can you even plait hair?’, ‘Harry when was the last time you woke up at 9 o’clock, nevermind for a night feed?’. She was having a field day. You’d caught her laughing at her phone at her co-workers Facebook post, saying how “thank god I’ll have pretty grandbabies to post.”

“They might be pretty, but they’ll reek of au—”

“I dare you to finish that sentence, I actually dare you,” Harry ticklishly squeezed the back of her neck and Sophie jumped and escaped him with a proud grin and middle finger aimed at him.

“You’ll have to buy 2 of everything! And discuss your parenting tactics!”

You frowned at that, “I think it’s a bit early for that.”

“Never too early for that. You might be surprised by how many differences you have.”

You and Harry both tilted your head at each other, yeah, okay mimicking your gaze. You were one. Your minds were the same.

Your Mum looked at you both mocking her. “Laugh it up, I’m being serious. I could list 5 things right now you’ll disagree on.” She stirred her tea.

Yeah right.

“For one, you gonna use shampoo on their hair?” Harry’s face dropped and he looked at you, as you looked at him, both minds set on an answer but looking at one another — you knew they weren’t the same.

And that was the start of it.

Your Mum left for the living room, sipping her tea with her slice of cake, a smug grin on her face as she left the pair to discuss in the kitchen.

After telling probably the most important people in your lives the news, the ones whose reactions really mattered, you’d have thought the nerves would have eased and the rest would feel much smoother.

Well no. Harry was losing sleep over how he would tell the boys.

“Do I slip it in casually? Do we go out for dinner? Do I tell them separately? Should I just text them?—”

“Do not text them it,” you rolled your eyes, rubbing coconut oil over your slightly popped stomach. “Just . . yeah, do it over dinner. Do it when they're all together, I think that’ll be best. It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

Harry found himself at a shoot; it was only for MoreSidemen, but everyone was together for once, chilling on the sofa, and it’d been a super chill day. There’d been laughs, there’d been plans made, there’d been reminiscing of old times. An easy day of work. It was a very wholesome moment between the group to have been sitting there on the couch, chilling now that filming was done, finishing off whatever drink had been set out for them and simply enjoying the company between one another. Harry was laying in the corner, scratching his hair with a beer in hand, wondering how on earth he said it. It was the perfect moment because he realized he didn’t want it to be a big thing, but JJ was currently talking about an American deal he was about to sign and Simon had just got done telling them all about the perfect spot of land he’d found for him and Talia to start building their dream home.

Jesus. They were so old.

“Boys,” he caught their attention, messing with his hair as he didn’t know what to do with his hands. “I—” well now it was funny, trying to keep a straight face, because if he laughed they’re not going to believe him. “I have some exciting news,” he phrased like he was shooting a video, keeping them on their toes as he gave questionable glances.

“Pregnant.” Ethan stated.

“You single?” Simon guessed.

“D’you get a new car?” JJ wondered, slouched right down into the seat.

“Oo. 1 truth, 2 lies,” he bit his tongue humorously, seeing the anticipation burst through them as they all sat up.

“Are you broken-up?” Vik lightly chuckled, knowing fine rightly that could not have been the answer as he’d been texting you as per usual on shoots.

He shook his head as Josh’s mouth slowey pulled into a grin as he guessed, “ . . so you got a new car?”

He shook his head again.

Everyone was just watching him with delayed reactions, when really their insides were sparking and clanking trying to wrap around what that then meant for the truth.

Eyes widened and jaws went slack, tips of lips turning outward as everyone just froze.

Behz was right next to him, his jaw hanging open to his left that Harry kept looking from him to the others, to him to the crew.

“WHAT?” JJ sat up, his voice high-pitched and on the verge of breaking out into his famous laugh.

Ethan screamed, and he screamed again, hands covering his mouth in between as he took in the news, as he made sense of what he’d just been told.

“Are you serious?!” Simon shouted, leaning forward to touch his knee in a seriously grounding moment, needing the confirmation so he could fully react, and Harry nodded, still trying to hold in his laugh as he bit his tongue.

Ethan screamed again and got up off the sofa, tripping as he turned around and looked at him, his fingers hooked in his mouth. Everyone had the highest grin on their face along with a widely-open mouth, but Harry could clearly see they were seriously too stunned to speak. He laughed at himself, at how he’d stunned them.

“Are you serious?” Kon asked behind the camera, and when Harry nodded again, it was like they’d finally hit the play button.

“You’re lyin’ bro,” JJ rocked back like an egg before standing to his feet to congratulate him in a handshake-hug, “swear down.”

“I swear, mate, I promise,” he laughed giddily, holding his hand clasped as he locked eyes, trying to find any hint of denial and falsehood. “I swear down.”

“Brooo,” JJ squealed, lowering to pull him into the biggest hug, patting his back with a prideful smack, tingles running up his arms.

“BROOO! Ain’t no way!!” Tobi shrieked from his spot, hugging him second. Harry patted his back when Tobi grabbed his arms and looked at him, sincerity dripping in his voice, “Harry I am so happy for you, bro. Are you kidding?”

“Mate I swear,” Harry assured him, patting his side.

Tobi hugged him again, filled with delight, “brother, congrats!! I’m honestly — I can’t even word it. I have so many questions.”

“So do I!” Simon butted in after, looking at his best friend in disbelief as they clapped hands and shook, Simon throwing his arm around him and squeezing him. “Brother! What?! Since when?!”

“Honestly, it’s been a whirlwind of the last few weeks, I can’t even remember,” he awkwardly scratched his head, feeling like a weight was finally lifting off his shoulders. “We just got a scan like, the other day—”

The word scan made it all that more real and harder for the boys to take in, with faces being pulled and hands holding chests, they had to sit back down.

So he meant it.

“Do you have it?”

“Y-yeah, yeah I do!” He searched for his backpack, passing it to Tobi and JJ who immediately hunted to the bottom for it.

Vik’s face was most surprised but he eventually hugged and congratulated his best friend too, expressing his happiness and excitement to be named ‘Uncle Vik!’ which Harry adored, “love you, man. This is amazing.”

Josh hugged him too and ran his knuckles into his hair, expressing his congrats but also questioning him, ”what are you doing?! You’re supposed to be the baby of the group!”

Harry was smiling as he tried to fix his hair, Josh’s arm still around his neck as he looked to the boys who all viewed him the same way.

Eventually he turned to Behz who was sitting with his elbows to his knees, his hand on his mouth, head shaking in utter disbelief. When Harry laughed at him, he bounced up, attacking him with the biggest hug, they almost fell over, laughs unable to be concealed. Ethan picked him up and bounced him in the air, chanting “Baby Bog! Baby Bog! Baby Bog!” ‘til everyone was shouting it and Harry was laughing with sore cheeks. “I was going to tell you first but you was hungover when we planned to go out!” He shoved him.

Ethan held him for the longest time, probably the most excited as he finally had someone to join him on this road to fatherhood after he’d recently just merged onto. And who better did he want with him? He couldn't believe it. Suddenly, he felt less singled out of the group and less lonely in a sense. He was already making a million plans for the future. He gripped his arms and gave him a heart-to-heart convo of how excited he was for Harry and how proud of him he was.

They all were.

“Do you want another surprise?”

Their heads perked up like dogs.

“Do you know what it is?” Josh guessed.

“No. But I can tell you how many there are.”

“HOW!—” Simon stuttered, “HOW MANY THERE ARE?!”

“HOW MANY?!”

“WHAT?!”

He was closing his arms into himself defensively as the boys jumped and celebrated him again, feeling their hands slap him and rustle his hair into a mess again.

“Is that what that other little circle is?!” Tobi pointed to the questionable looking shape.

Harry nodded, Behz’s hands shaking his neck ticklishly as he tried to steal a peak at the ultrasound.

“BRO! Ain’t no way!” JJ exclaimed once again in disbelief while Vik turned his head questioningly at the picture, “twins?!”

“So far,” he confirmed, “u—unless one of them eats the other one.”

The more they talked about it, the more screaming Ethan did and more questions JJ fired. His camera crew congratulated him also, emotional that the baby of the clan they’d been working with for years was finally at the stage in life where he couldn’t be seen as that anymore. They cracked open another case of beer and poured some XIX for celebration, everyone quizzing him on the rundown of things as JJ quickly booked a table at a restaurant for them to all go out to eat.

Harry couldn't have imagined a better reaction, he didn't think he was able to feel this loved and appreciated by people not related to him. But he did, and he loved them as much back, grateful to have each one in his life, who loved and looked after him like a brother. He couldn’t have wished for better friends. Honestly.

You were doing the rounds today, getting up early to go tell each girl individually after plans fell through and they couldn’t find a time to meet up for lunch.

So you started with Freya, the older sister you never had, your London Mum, who’d known you longest since your days when she was blonde and you were a small, newly, love-struck 18-year-old who’d followed her boyfriend to big scary London — where she took you under her wing. She deserved to be told first, so you knocked on the door and sat on the sofa, catching her before she headed out for her hair appointment.

“Hello, babygirl,” she hugged you, welcoming you inside. “What brings you here?”

“I have a little surprise for you,” you proposed, hand lingering on your handbag.

She curled her legs up on the sofa and propped her head on her hand, looking at you oddly, “okay . .”

“Do you wanna guess?”

“No. God. I hate when you do that.”

You laughed at that and nodded. Fair. So, you pulled the row of pictures out so the back faced her, and you watched her increasing confused face turn as you slowly flipped the photos around, seeing the realisation dawn on her.

Freya cried. Her palms covered her eyes as you held her, laughing and slightly crying yourself. “Are you serious?!”

“I swear! You’re the first I've told,” you grinned, drying your own tears.

“My angel,” she clung to you, the pair of you laying down on her couch, crying into one another. “I am so unbelievably happy for you. You were made for this. You will smash this.”

Her words melted your heart to a puddle. “Don’t because I'll start crying again.”

“I can’t stop crying!” Talia wailed from her seat as the mascara ran down her cheeks.

Her hands were shaking with the picture in her hand, her sleeve wet and stained from her makeup as she cried into her sweatshirt, and through your own happy tears, you laughed at her. “What the fuck, Y/n!” She sniffed.

“I know. And two of them,” you widened your eyes.

“Two of them has ended me. How are you going to cope?!” she laughed, before hoarse, “I truly cannot comprehend this. What does Harry think?!”

“Harry’s like an orb just floating through space at the minute. He’s been so chill, I’m waiting for a mental breakdown — no, I'm waiting for a midlife crisis.”

Talia laughed loudly at that while you rubbed her knee, besotted by her response. “I can’t believe this. Why are we all getting so old? Why — how?! How are you going to have a child?! Children!”

“I don’t know. Who allowed this?”

“Sorry but you as a Mum: I can see — Harry? Harry? Harry Wroetoshaw?!”

Yeah, what had you got yourself into. “I’ll be raising triplets, more like.”

“He’ll be great! All the instincts kick in, I’m sure!” Ellie sat across from you with your hands in hers. “You will both be phenomenal, I already know. Those kids are going to be the luckiest babies ever,” she awed, her cheeks sore from the smiling she couldn’t stop doing. “Cutest too!”

“Stop it, you’re making me cry, here,” you fanned your eyes at her sweet words. Wasn’t Ellie the best?

“Do we need another cup of tea? I think we need another cup of tea.”

“I’ll take a cup of tea, babes, yes please,” you grinned as Olive was passed into your arms.

“I’m on it, doll. I have your mug sitting at the front of the cupboard,” Faith left for the kitchen while you kicked the ball for Rolo to chase after whilst bouncing baby Olive in your arms. Faith was picking up laundry on the way and firing it into the wash basket, claiming that she and the house was a mess but you’d told her they were quite literally beyond your daily standards. “What’s been going on? Any biz?” she eventually joined you in the living room.

“I mean, I guess I have some news for you. Might lose your marbles over it.”

“Babe, I am listening. Tell me, I am all ears,” she dropped down onto the sofa, ready to hear all about whatever inside information you had.

“Well, you know what, it’s more so a surprise for Olive,” you smiled, digging into your bag for either the scan and pregnancy test, “. . you know how you said she’s in need of a friend?” The collage of pics fell open.

The tea in Faith’s mouth spilled out onto the sofa.

You couldn’t even get your next sentence out, you were laughing so much, “s—she’s getting two,” your body jerked with cackles, holding out the paper.

Faith screamed snatching it from your hand, and screamed louder as she stood on the sofa, kicking her feet into the cushion. Olive was so unbothered, clearly used to the chaos in this house.

“YOU'RE JOKING ME! YOU ARE JOKING!—”

“I’M NOT! I SWEAR! I SWEAR!”

“YOU'RE NOT!” She looked at the scans, squealing again and clutching it to her chest. “YOU ARE LYING TO ME!”

“Faith, I promise you!”

Incomprehensible sounds left her mouth as she starred at the evidence of truth, seeing Infant, Lewis typewritten at the top that had her smacking her hand to her mouth. You’d thought the girl had gone through 20 different stages of acceptance, from screaming and jumping to curling to a ball on the ground crying, she was in utter disbelief but most definitely the most excited. “No stop it ‘cause I’m already thinking of Mummy Dates,” she cried into her tissue, “the things we can do. Olive! We’ll have someone to join on our walks now when Daddy’s away to work!” She shook her daughter’s tiny hand excitedly. “And– oh my God. I’m gonna have to drink for you like you drank for me when I was pregnant,” she looked at you promisingly, “I stand up to the challenge,” she saluted. And then when you both laughed, she wiped her eyes and leaned over to you, squeezing her arms tightly around you, being careful not to squash Baby O, she hugged you tight. “I love you so much. I promise to have your back – I will look after you when Harry is being a dickhead. I will — I will know the struggle and I will guide you through it. I have you, girl. Whatever you need. Whether it’s to beat up Harry or to shave your legs — I got you.”

“I love you so much,” you embarrassingly croaked into her hair as you (group) hugged. “What did I ever do without you?”

Telling the few of your friends from school/uni was nothing special, but you didn’t want them to find out online so you gave them a call or dropped it in the groupchat which spawned utter chaos. You might not have talked everyday but they were good friends in your youth and they were over the moon at the news, immediately confirming their attendance for whatever baby showers you had coming up.

You both knew Freezy had to be told in a special way, considering, well it was Calfreezy, and he’d probably be annoyed if he didn’t get special treatment. That was Big Bro. “I brought another jar, just in case,” he placed the sauce on the counter with his reusable shopping bag.

You’d all be standing around in the kitchen, waiting for your dinner to cook like old times as you all spoke from different sides of the room. “Bro, baby potatoes are so cute. Baby anything is so cute,” he picked up a baby carrot to crunch on.

Harry looked at you and you looked at him, smugness taking over.

Freezy watched you both. “What.”

You looked at Harry to go ahead and tell him.

“Y/n, why’s he looking at me like that,” Cal looked at you for help when he went quiet, clearly clueless as to how to say it. Maybe ‘hopefully you find Baby Lewis cute!’ or just something.

“We’re having a baby potato.”

You actually had to lean on the counter with your head in your hand.

“W—Well we’re actually having two baby potatoes,” he corrected, seeing your reaction.

Freezy looked around like he was on another planet, “the fuck is he on about?”

Now he was getting flustered and scrambled over to you who was laughing at his failed announcement, laughing, he pulled your jumper up a bit, exclaiming, “look! See?! S—look!”

When Freezy looked at your stomach, just about a bump evident, and stringed together Harry’s previous words, baby potato, we’re having . . a baby potato, his smile dropped. His carrot dropped. “What.”

“Oh my God, I’m pregnant,” you deadpanned, slumping your arms.

“FUCK OFF! YOU’RE NOT!” He leaned on the counter for support before his legs buckled.

Freezy had never felt so old in the span of a minute. Had never felt so drunk whilst being stone-old sober at a time. He felt like he’d just been hit with something, how he felt wobbly all of a sudden.

Looking at the two in front of him, he realised, you weren’t the two teens he once had to look after in your early days of London. Gone were the days when he came to pick you up after your friend’s 18th birthday in Ibiza or buying Harry’s drink when he didn’t have his ID to prove he was of age. You were really grown up. You were having a family. You were adulting in life.

Starting the next gen. “Oh my God.” Suddenly you felt like you were at a wedding as the two boys swayed in a hug in your kitchen, comforting each other as you continued stirring the dinner in the pan, letting them have their moment. Freezy had already claimed godfather title and laughed when it really hit him, unable to imagine his best mate, someone he saw as his little brother — be someone’s dad. Funniest fucking thing. He asked every question there was too, until you physically could not give him an answer because he was beginning to ask the likes of ‘what names we thinking?’

“Mate. They’ve just about grown arms at this point or I'd still class it as my sperm,” Harry childishly laughed across from him at the table.

“Bro. That’s mad,” he squeezed his hair. “I need to phone my Mum. I need to call Chip.”

Chip found out when Harry went out for drinks with the Troops. Harry went out with a few of The Troops too, and such over a pint late at night. “Do you’se want to know something?” He tipsily appealed, as if he was about to rhyme off a riddle.

They all stared at him in silence, egging him to go on.

No build up? No drum roll? Oh. Okay. “Pregnant. Y/n.”

Harry knew they’d be emotional but Jesus Christ, the drink really heightened emotions. But he took all the loving he was getting, drunk or not, he appreciated it. Chip nearly knocked the whole table over when he bounced out of his seat and somehow Theo fell off his chair. He had to call you to get you to confirm which result in Chip smashing his phone when he grabbed it from him.

“NO YOU’RE NOT YOU BIG LIAR. YOU’RE HAVING A — A LAUGH! YOU — YOU MEAN BITCH—”

“Y/N DON’T HURT,” Chris hiccuped into the phone, “DON’T PLAY US LIKE THAT!”

Harry was laughing his head off, especially when the boys were almost shedding a tear when they finally believed you ranting over the phone. They were more than gassed and kept the celebrations going, of course, getting their digs in and firing questions with pints in their hands:

“Oh my God — you got her up the duff!”

“Jesus. Call ChildLine now.”

“How’d you manage that?”

“She fuming?”

“Great. Another weird Guernsey kid,” Chris rolled his eyes and Harry shook him. He knew he was screaming inside.

“Two weird Guernsey kids.”

“Fucking hell! You gonna make them fight for everything?”

Jokes aside, all of them were gassed. Harry was surprised how many of his friends were ringing their mum’s to tell them. It was strangely heartwarming. The night had been so good that they’d almost forgotten all about it. He’d woken up to a text in the groupchat, ‘did harry say the mrs is pregnant or did i make that up’, to which he replied, ‘no, she’s really up the duff’, and the congratulations all rolled in again.

After it felt like you’d told everyone important over the course of the month, going to bed felt even more relaxing after it felt like there were no more secrets to hide. Being in the company of everyone again since passing on the news, you’d been viewed in a new light. The boys were still trying to wrap their heads around it - Freya trailing Josh over to see your little bump and Tobi still stunned but gracefully sharing his apple juice at every party event. Everyone laughed every time at the thought of Harry having to parent, and you couldn’t lie that you didn’t join in with the boys when they patronised him about having to go to parenting classes and play daddy daycare when you went out - because you did.

Your circle was quite some size, but they were people you trusted with your life, so they were all in on the special secret, now understanding and getting virgin cocktails for you — no longer trying to force shots of sambuca down your throat like Chip had done.

You loved them all so much.

Although, you couldn’t deny that there was a nervousness deep within that you couldn’t place was coming from.

“Look how good she looks and she’s a trimester ahead!”

Scrolling through social media and comparing yourself was never good — but fellow pregnant women who were going through the same difficulties as you? Well that was just soul-humbling.

You looked to your right, to your boyfriend laying on his side, in a daydream, looking at your stomach as you sat up against the headboard, judging and listing every pregnancy-related link this girl had to recommend. You looked at him oddly, and when he felt you staring, he looked up. “Mad they’re in there.”

“Mad.” You agreed, mocking his words.

“What’d you say?”

“Look at her,” you flipped your phone to this jaw-dropping woman who made pregnancy look so effortless.

“What about her?”

You looked at him unimpressed. “Why does nobody talk about the shit you go through? I need someone to tell me it’s ok to look like shit.”

“You don’t look like shit,” Harry almost scoffed.

You shot him a look.

“Ok! You look like shit,” he told you what you wanted to hear, turning back to face the TV at the end of your bed.

But you didn’t look like shit. You might have felt like it as you came to the end of your first trimester, but you didn’t look it. You never did, Harry argued, yeah, your hair could be wild and you had a few spots breaking out on your chin, but Harry ate that shit up. Being considered perfect pestered him — seeing you have a matching pimple on your head like him, your nails chewed down and raggedy, or even complaining about needing a tan after both being deprived a vacation, he thought it made you prettier. His pretty, natural girl.

You locked your phone and slipped your arm around the back of his neck, feeling him pat your knee under your duvet as you eyed the screen, mind still on your social media snooping.

“We need to tell the internet.”

“No.”

“Harry,” you groaned at him and sat up, seeing him try not to laugh at you in your slumped position. Yeah, you made pregnancy look so hot, you bet. “Come on. I’m nearly 3 months. Is it supposed to be a secret forever? Are you keeping them in the dark for the rest of your YouTube career?”

“And say what?” He rubbed his head, knowing you were right.

“I don’t know,” you held his face, complaining. You didn’t know how to do it either, “ . . but I want to get sent free stuff.”

You both laughed at each other at that, finding your confession hilarious. I mean realistically, though . . some people got sent free £1,000 prams and everything from big brands! “We have to.”

“Alright. Post what you want. Make everyone feel old.”

“Oh I will,” you stuck your lips to his cheek in a kiss before picking up your phone again, “cHiLdhOOd hErO wRoEtOsHAw iS gONna bE a dAd, AhHh.”

“Shut your mouth.” He tried not to laugh next to you. “What do you say? What did Ethan write? His was a good caption.” He read the YouTube reference.

“What do I write?”

“Dunno.”

“Well you’re great help,” you texted Faith instead.

“Fuck sake. His was so good! What could I say?!” He bit his nail curiously.

You laughed evilly. “I’m captioning mine ‘Faith’s the Dad.’”

“DON'T YOU DARE.”

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wroetoshaw #LucksRunOut #HowMuchIsChildBenefits #Trapped4Life #TwoForOne

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