#Best Drum Kits

[sosouthernbeats]

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[gays-in-space]

why instruments so expensive. why instruments so expensive. why instruments so expensive.

[corrodedcoughin]

I’m absolutely not the person to do it but I feel like there could be such a good steddie Drabble or fic based on spooky by dusty Springfield

The first verse based on how Steve sees Eddie, trying to use his old tactics of playing hard to get when Eddie asks him round to watch the movie he rents from family video. Thinking that if he plays his cards right he might finally get Eddie’s attention. Unsure of how to go about it any other way but absolutely knows with certainty that nobody else is going to compare to the strange and endearing guy who’s had Steve’s attention for far longer than either of them realise.

(But the thing is Dustin told Eddie all of the flirting advice Steve tried to pass on. So when Steve changes his initial ‘no’ to an ‘alright’ with a smirk eddie thinks and hopes and prays he might be in with a chance)

The second verse is Eddie watching steve at work and day to day. Completely unsure of how to take the ex-mr popular, convinced that he’s flirting with everybody that comes into his vicinity and it’s either through mercy or for his sins that Eddie is catching the strays. In two minds about what dustin said, is this part of Steve’s game or is it real? But this time when Eddie gets lost in those spiralling thoughts, Steve grabs his hand and smiles at him. Eddie’s flurry of doubt stops and all he sees is the contradiction of Steve with his neck scar and polo shirts.

Love is kinda crazy with a spooky little boy like you 🎶

[wolfsplosion]

ASA HAVE YOU HEARD THE NEW TWRP SINGLE YET??

YESSSSS IT'S A BANGER!! the concept of it being from the perspective of forgotten tech makes me a little insane /pos like oughh the themes.....

[spaceoddball1969]

There's nothing I can't wait for more than having an apartment with more than one bedroom so all my boyfriend's musical instruments can be put in there instead of in our living room.

[jacobthewilliam]

[SPITCUPS] Old School Hip Hop Boom Bap Beat - by WOKE BOY WONDERS

[nicolejames12]

Finding High-Quality Drum Beats Online: A Comprehensive Guide

When it comes to producing high-quality music, the rhythm and percussion can significantly determine the final outcome of the track. This is where drum beats come into play. With the rise of digital technology, sourcing drum beats has become a convenient process, often only requiring a stable internet connection. A diverse array of drum kits online offers sound samples that can revolutionise your music production. Here's a comprehensive guide to finding the best drum beats online. Visit: https://sites.google.com/view/sosouthernbeats/home/blog/finding-high-quality-drum-beats-online-a-comprehensive-guide

[hiphopdrumsamples]

Best Drum Kit For Hip Hop

Best Drum Kit For Hip Hop

Future Soundwave is dedicated with providing Hip Hop producers with the best drum kits, samples packs, loops & more. Browse their collections of samples today and take your music to the next level!

Featuring an extensive collection of samples in different genres including hip-hop, trap, R&B, and more, this website offers a one-stop-shop for anyone looking to elevate their music game.

[bbhyeoliskooks]

"i'm not jealous!" | bsf!beomgyu

✩ genre: lots of fluff, f2l, mutual pining, musician gyu

✩ warnings: swear words, jealousy

Beomgyu had always loved you. It was quite obvious to everyone that saw the two of you, but somehow your eyes were always clouded to his true feelings. At first he became friends with you to see if he stood any chance- kind of shitty of him to be honest and he knew that- but now, your friendship bloomed into something deeper, a bond that people could only wish they had.

Whenever someone came up to you and Beomgyu, asking if you made it official since the last time they saw you, you would always wave your arms around and shake your head quickly to ward off the idea that you were more than friends. Beomgyu always wanted to say yes; after all, if people saw you two as a couple, then why couldn't you be? He guessed the biggest thing in the way was that you saw him as a best friend only, maybe even as a brother, and the thought hurt him more than anything.

Now you were sitting besides Beomgyu in his studio, as he listened over and over to the new track he made. Both him and Yeonjun were playing with different instruments, the versatile range going from a piccolo to an electric drum kit. They had been at this for hours and you were feeling left out as the friend date went from hanging out to messing around the studio. You could probably contribute more ideas, but sleep was already heavy on your eyelids. You looked blearily at them, clearing your throat in annoyance when their laughs broke the sound barrier yet again that night.

"Guys, I think I might head home. I'm a little tired, and I don't think I'm really necessary for this?" The last sentence might've sounded a little passive aggressive, but you knew they wouldn't take it that way. It was the truth after all: you were too tired and couldn't help much.

You failed to catch the disappointment on Beomgyu's falling face as he turned around to look at you.

"But Y/NNNN," he whined, "we'll be done soon! It'll just take 5 minutes. Plus, I-uh we need you." I need you, he thought silently, almost blurting the wrong words out. The frown on his face was big as he accentuated it to gain pity points. You rolled your eyes, smiling at both his playfulness and how badly he wanted you there.

Yeonjun sat up from his chair and glanced at you as he shuffled his weight to the right side.

"Sorry, Y/N. We got a good idea for a song and can't walk you out now" he paused for a second to look at the glistening watch on his wrist, "but if you want, I could grab you some coffee? That'll keep you up for longer probably."

Yeonjun's kindness and the thought of coffee made you smile. Coffee sounded glorious at that very moment and Yeonjun was an angel for coming up with that idea so quickly. If not, you would definitely fall asleep on the firm and uncomfortable couch you were sitting on.

"Okay, thanks! Just grab my usual, okay?"

He smiled at you, a glint of mischief in his eyes, "of course!" Beomgyu watched the two of you quietly, his eyes glancing between your face and Yeonjun's for a hint of romance or perhaps hopefully that nothing was there at all. Nothing was there, right? He felt sick to his stomach as he heard you humming happily from the grey couch.

The room, now enveloped in thickened silence, surprised you. At this time, Beomgyu would be yapping your ear off about some of the instruments he found in the studio. Now that he was silent, the atmosphere felt incredibly awkward. You stopped humming and looked up to see Beomgyu with a clenched jaw looking down at the floor.

"Gyu," you whispered, deciding to take Yeonjun's seat in lieu of the boy who was grabbing your coffee, "what's wrong? You're never this silent." You smoothed out your bottoms, hoping you'd feel more comfortable. It just didn't feel right that Beomgyu wasn't initiating the conversation.

His face was still unreadable as he looked at the floor, counting the tiles, "he knows your usual? I thought I only knew your usual." His tone of his voice was rough and ragged, a feeling that you couldn't put your finger on. You were more confused than anything.

"It's just coffee, Gyu?" you questioned, tone becoming a bit defensive, "you know lots of things about me that he doesn't know about, if you're worried." In your opinion, it was a silly thing to worry about. Unfortunately for your heart, Beomgyu was your best friend. Since he only saw you platonically, the two of you were great friends. Yeonjun was just a close friend and besides, you and Beomgyu were closer. Why he was upset about this- it didn't make sense.

He gasped exasperatedly, now looking at you. You could see fire behind his eyes as he pursed his lips, "But coffee is a big deal! You don't understand, Y/N."

"... I clearly don't. Why is it a big deal?" You questioned again, but he didn't answer. Well, he didn't want to answer.

You tried again, prodding into him, but he was as closed off as ever. "What is this about?"

Then an idea flew into your head. No way... it couldn't be, but... it was right there all along. You started to laugh to yourself to which Beomgyu cocked his head at. You probably looked insane.

"Don't tell me..." you giggled, feeling giddy, "are you jealous, Gyu?" An inkling of hope ignited in your heart, hoping, praying that maybe he saw you in a different light now.

Beomgyu became defensive, furrowing his eyebrows and pouting. "I'm not jealous!" His voice turned quiet this time, as if he was whispering to the side. "Why would I be jealous?"

You grinned, motioning him to continue his thought process. "I don't know! You tell me!"

Beomgyu sighed, no longer able to fight the battle in his head of whether he should tell you or not. His deep brown eyes, now desperate and searching for yours, told you everything that you needed to know, alongside his faltering, weak voice.

"Because I only want you. Only you. Why can't you see that? I've always wanted you, but you never saw it."

You smiled, feeling adrenaline and excitement rush to your heart. You gently cupped Beomgyu's face in an attempt to bring him closer, his eyes widening as he tried to comprehend what was happening...

That night Beomgyu ended up with way too many kisses that made him super smitten. Yeonjun was incredibly confused when he came back to the studio, seeing Beomgyu in a heap of smiles and imaginary hearts floating beside him, alongside you who kept giggling every couple of seconds seeing your now boyfriend in such weak behavior.

Yes, Beomgyu has always wanted you. But now, he's got you and there was no need for him to be jealous anymore, knowing that you loved him too.

released: August 17, 2024 (12:20am CT)

thoughts: it's been 28 days since i've posted so i decided to hustle and work on anything that came to mind. the ending is abrupt, so i apologizeeee, this was super sweet though, i was kicking my feet while writing teehee

tags:

[merrybloomwrites]

We Know Where We Belong

Summary: When your brother starts working with Harry Styles, you're so excited to see him accomplishing his dreams. What you don't expect is the way this will change your life, and all for the better.

It may take time to get your happy ending with Harry, but when you do, the wait is completely worth it.

Word Count: 9.4K

CW: attempted assault leading to injury that needs surgery, allusions to sex, pregnancy & mention of childbirth

AN: I started this last June and it was originally just supposed to be a cute family story about reader as Mitch's sister, but then decided I wanted to make it a Harry x reader instead.

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Your whole life, you always looked up to your two big brothers. Beckett is the oldest, thirteen years older than you, and one of your first memories is of him getting his first car when he was sixteen. He was always nice to you when he was around, but truthfully that wasn’t a lot. He had his group of friends that he always went to hang out with, and he left for college when you were only five years old. 

Mitch was the opposite, hanging home most of the time, though often hidden in his room. There was always music playing, whether from his radio, or from his guitar. He was always practicing, and you thought he was the best guitar player in the whole world. Sometimes, when Beckett was out, Mitch would play on his drum kit. You were sworn to secrecy, which didn’t always suit you. As the little sister, the baby of the family, you felt it was your duty to stir the pot. But when Mitch promised to teach you guitar in exchange for you staying quiet about the drums, you had to agree. 

The guitar lessons were your favorite activity. Mitch would teach you different skills, always patient when you needed extra help to understand something. Plus, you got to watch him play, and he would test out new song ideas on you. It wasn’t the best idea if he wanted constructive feedback, since you thought everything he played was the coolest thing ever, but it made you feel so special that he trusted you so much.

When Mitch got his driver's license, the first thing he did was take you to get ice cream. Instead of disappearing with friends all the time like Beckett had done, Mitch would take you on some sort of outing each week. But his schedule started to fill up with school, and work, and practicing music with some other boys in the neighborhood. Though he still made sure to hang with you, your guitar lessons and trips to the ice cream parlor started to become less frequent. 

And then he left for college. And you tried to ignore your sadness at how much you missed him. You got into new hobbies which kept you busy and introduced you to new friends. You continued practicing guitar, and all your hard work paid off when Mitch came home to visit and was impressed by your progress. He was always there for your big moments, like when you won the spelling bee and that time your softball team went all the way to states. 

He came back home for a bit after college, but he spent most of his time working and practicing music. You were busy as well, having grown to love your extracurriculars and you had a solid friend group that you were always hanging out with.

But when Mitch announced he was moving to Los Angeles you were devastated. Him going to college was hard enough, and he was only two hours away. But California? This time you didn’t hide your feelings. To fourteen old you, this was the end of the world. Instead of hanging with his friends the night before he left, he spent it at home, having a movie marathon and reassuring you that he’d never be more than a phone call away.

It was hard saying good-bye, but you were proud of him for following his dreams. Your high school years both dragged on and flew by at the same time, and before you knew it you were getting college acceptance letters. While your friends were excited for their Ivy League acceptances or admittance to the biggest party schools, you had your eyes set on one place in particular. 

You called Mitch when the letter came, opening it on Facetime. You screamed in excitement when you saw the words “You’re In!” 

It was official. You were going to UCLA, and were going to live in the same city as Mitch.

Of course your parents worried about their eighteen year old moving so far away, but knowing your brother was close by eased their fears. You flew out that summer, working a waitress job and staying with Mitch who insisted he sleep on the couch so you could have his room. He pretended to be put out and annoyed, but you could tell he was happy to have you there.

And then he got the call. The big break he’d been waiting and working his whole life for. He didn’t tell you the details at first, since you were both busy and didn’t see each other much over those first few days. He mentioned he was working in the studio, but that was all. It wasn’t until Sunday afternoon that you two finally had some time together to hang out. 

“How’s the new gig?” You ask. 

“Honestly, it’s pretty sick. I’m working with Harry Styles,” he replies casually. 

You stare at him for a moment, thinking you must have misheard him. No way has your brother been working with Harry Styles for the past week. 

“Are you serious?” You finally ask. 

“Yea.”

“Harry Styles?”

“Yes.”

“From One Direction?”

“Mhmm.”

“Mitch! Are you serious?”

“Yes, Y/N, I’m completely serious. Why?”

“Why? Because it’s Harry Styles! You’ve met him? You’re working with him? Mitch this is insane! He’s like- he so- oh my god!”

“I’m not following,” Mitch says after your outburst. 

“Mitch, Harry is from one of the biggest boy bands in the world! I was obsessed with them! How do you not know this? And he was always my favorite. And then he grew his hair out and got even hotter.”

“Well, I hate to break it to you but he just cut it.”

“Shut the fuck up. You’re lying.”

“Sorry, but no. He went yesterday, here,” Mitch says and pulls up a picture on his phone. It is without a doubt Harry, his long locks gone. It takes a minute to get used to but you finally reply, “Well, he still looks damn good.”

“Glad to know you’re thirsting over my boss,” he says in a teasing voice. 

“Your boss. That’s so bizarre.”

“You want to meet him?”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. Stop asking that.”

“I mean, obviously I want to meet him!”

“Ok. I’ll talk to him. Maybe you can visit the studio next week.”

“Holy shit. Wait. No. Don’t do that.”

“So you don’t want to meet him?”

“I do! But no! Cause that’s terrifying.”

Mitch laughs at that and asks, “How is that terrifying? He’s super nice. Very chill. I promise.”

“Ok fine. Yes, I'd like to come and meet him.”

“Then I’ll set it up.”

“Can I ask about the music you guys are working on?”

“You can ask. But I’m probably not supposed to say anything yet. Maybe you can get a little preview when you visit,” Mitch says.

The two of you continue to talk, though Mitch is reluctant to share more details about Harry or his work. 

You’re busy with your job most of the week, but somehow manage to get Friday off, which is perfect because Mitch has set it up for you to come visit the studio and meet the others. 

You head over with your brother mid-morning, and ignore the way he’s teasing you. Of course you’re nervous to meet Harry Styles, but does Mitch really need to point that out?

Luckily Harry isn’t there when you arrive at the studio, giving you some time to look around at all the equipment. Mitch asks you to tune one of the guitars for him and you do so happily, enjoying having something to focus on.

When you finish that, Mitch grabs another guitar and the two of you play together for a couple minutes. It feels like all those times back home, and any anxiety you had earlier has melted away.

When you finish the song you’re playing you hear someone clapping behind you. The person then says, “Good to know there’s a backup Rowland if we ever need one.” 

Your eyes go comically wide as you realize the person behind you is none other than Harry Styles. Thankfully your brother decides to have pity on you, and instead of teasing you he simply says, “Harry, I’d like you to meet my sister, Y/N.”

You stand and turn, and Harry says, “Hello Y/N, I’m Harry. It’s nice to meet you.” He puts out his hand and you reach forward to shake it, and reply, “It’s nice to meet you as well.”

“While I’d love to chat a bit more, I had this idea last night and I’m itching to get started. You’re free to hang out. It’s pretty casual here. And then maybe you and Mitch can join me for dinner tonight?”

“Sounds good,” you say. “Thank you for letting me watch today, I’m excited to see what you guys are working on.”

“Of course. It’s good to have an audience, get some feedback.”

With that, you take a seat and spend the next couple of hours watching with fascination as they work. The time passes quickly and before you know it you’re seated with Harry and your brother at a nearby restaurant. 

It’s a great evening, and while you’d been nervous to meet Harry, you quickly discover that wasn’t necessary. He’s so friendly and welcoming, and the two of you keep getting lost in conversation, Mitch occasionally managing to get a few words in. But he doesn’t mind. He’s just interested in watching the two of you interact, keeping a big brother eye out. 

After stretching out the meal as long as possible you and Mitch say goodbye to Harry. You don’t expect the hug Harry gives you, and you really don’t expect it to be so prolonged. But you’re not complaining. 

Mitch, however, has some questions once the two of you get home.

“So, what’d you think of Harry?” he asks.

“He’s nice,” you answer simply.

“That’s all? You don’t have a major crush on him or anything?”

You roll your eyes and reply, “Of course I do. Who wouldn’t? He’s attractive, talented, kind. Pretty much the whole package.”

“I just don’t want you getting your feelings hurt.”

“I know. And I promise this is just a silly crush. I’m not gonna act on it and like, lose my mind and ask him out. Plus I’m sure these feelings will pass if I spend more time with him.”

As it turns out, your feelings do not pass. Over the next couple of weeks you see Harry on occasion, and each time, those feelings only grow. You just love everything about him. And he always makes you feel special, and happy. 

When you move into the dorms to start freshman year, Harry is there to help carry your things inside. He texts you after your first day asking how your classes are going. He checks in, and he sends food to your dorm that weekend to celebrate a successful first week.

And then he leaves. Well, him and his whole team, including your brother, for a two month writing retreat in Jamaica. You’re sad to be left behind and to have to say goodbye to them, but college is keeping you busy. While you miss them a bit, you’re focused on classes and you’ve made a great group of friends, so you don’t really have time to dwell on it.

That being said, you are excited when they come back. 

You spend time with both Mitch and Harry, but midterm season is a lot, so you tend to be hunkered down in the library or your dorm studying.

Even when your exams are finished, you still have one project hanging over you, so you spend one more evening focused at the library. You finally complete and submit it, and check the clock for the first time in hours, surprised to see it’s almost 10PM. 

You quickly pack up your things and head out, not wanting to interact with the library worker who would kick you out if you stay another five minutes.

It’s a quiet night on campus as you walk back to your dorm, and you’re enjoying the fresh air when all of a sudden someone roughly grabs and twists your arm. You turn in shock and the man pulls you off the path and into a dark alley.

Through the panic in your mind, you can’t help but think of how much of a cliched situation you’ve gotten into. But then he twists your arm even harder and you cry out in pain. That’s when his mouth roughly covers yours, both to try and quiet you, and to start what he’s obviously trying to do to you. 

Refusing to give in you do the one piece of self defense you can think of, and knee him in the balls as hard as you can. It works, and he backs away, but not before shoving you back so your head hits the wall. You cry out in pain, and thankfully that is heard by a group of students walking by. 

Two girls rush over to help you while a few boys surround your attacker, ensuring he can’t get away. 

“Hey, let’s sit for a minute,” one of the girls says and helps you to the ground. You can hear the other girl on the phone, presumably to get emergency services there. 

“Is there someone you want us to call?” 

“Uhm, yea. My brother.” You take a deep breath, trying to keep the panic and shock at bay in order to open your phone and click on Mitch’s contact.

It rings, and Mitch answers with a cheerful, “Hey, what’s up?”

For some reason, hearing his voice breaks through the barriers you’re trying to build, and you start to cry, too hard to even get any words out.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” he asks, now clearly panicked. 

Realizing you won’t be able to explain, the girl wraps an arm around you and takes the phone, saying, “Hi, my name is Layla. My friends and I were walking on campus and heard a commotion. Your sister, she uhm, there was a guy. I think he hurt her arm, and uhm-” she stops for a moment and turns to you, asking if you were hurt anywhere else.

“Yea. My head. He hit it against the wall,” you manage to explain.

She nods and turns back to the phone, “She says he hurt her head as well.”

You don’t hear Mitch’s response but then Layla says, “I’ll send you a message with our location, hold on. Okay there, you should be able to find us. We have police and an ambulance on the way. My friends and I will stay with her.”

A moment later the phone is handed back to you. The call is still going so you put it up to your ear to hear Mitch say, “We’re on our way. We’re just down the street, we'll be there soon, I promise.” 

“Okay,” you choke out through your tears. 

It’s relatively calm for a minute or two, and then the scene becomes chaotic. The police and ambulance both arrive, and a moment later so does Mitch. You’re so happy to see him that it takes you a moment to realize Harry is there as well. 

You reach out your uninjured arm to your brother and he quickly sits beside you. He holds your hand and gently strokes your hair out of your face, wanting to comfort you but still way of any injuries you have. 

“Hi, I’m Colleen,” says a paramedic as she crouches down to your level. Before she can say anything else there’s a commotion. The police officers are cuffing your attacker and leading him to the car. 

As this happens, the man looks at you and shouts, “This is all the stupid sluts fault! You bitch!”

You turn to Mitch and tuck yourself into his chest to hide, but still hear the voices around you all yelling at the man to drown him out. One voice stands out, and Harry clearly says, “You’d better stop talking right now, or you’re going to regret it.”

“Harry!” Mitch shouts, calling him off before he can make an even bigger scene. Mitch knows that Harry Styles attacking anyone, even such a lowlife, would not do well for his image. 

Harry quickly walks over and kneels on the ground. You pull away from Mitch a bit and Harry gently places a hand on your cheek and asks, “Are you alright?” The concern is clear on his face, and though you’ve been friends for months, you're still surprised by the intensity of how much he cares for you right now. 

“I’m okay,” you say quietly. “Just wanna go home.”

“I’m sorry,” Colleen says beside you. “By the looks of that arm you’ll need a stop at the hospital first. And I’m told you hit your head as well so we’ll need to check that too.”

Harry steps back to let the paramedics do their work, and you pout at the distance. Your tears return as they splint your arm, and the next thing you know you’re being placed on a stretcher. 

Before they can get you in the ambulance, a police officer walks over and asks for your statement. 

“Does this have to be done right now?” Harry asks.

“We can wait up to 48 hours, but it’s best to do it now. It’s easier to get it done, and the memory is most fresh now,” the officer explains. 

“It’s alright, I’d rather just get it over with,” you say. 

You tell them exactly what happened, your grip on Mitch’s hand tightening as you do so. By the time you’re done explaining, tears are rolling down your cheeks again and your brother gently wipes them away. Harry turns his back to you, but not before you see the angry expression he’s obviously trying to hide.

You look at Mitch and see that his expression is mostly concerned, but he’s definitely mad as well. That’s when you realize that up until now, you hadn’t mentioned the man forcing himself on you. But now that Harry and Mitch know about the kiss, their worst fear is confirmed. This wasn’t a mugging, or someone trying to scare you. No, this man had nefarious plans, and if Layla and her friends weren’t nearby, this would have ended so much worse.

“Thank you,” the officer says, pulling you out of your swirling thoughts. “We have your contact information and we’ll be in touch with any updates or further questions.”

Colleen speaks next, saying, “Let’s get you taken care of so you can get home, hm?”

“Sounds good to me,” you reply, comforted by her calm and straightforward demeanor. 

“Which hospital?” Harry asks, and after hearing the reply, says, “Great, I’ll meet you guys there.”

The next few hours are a blur, and yet also pass in slow motion. Even with Harry pulling strings, it takes forever to get the tests and scans needed. And while you get the good news that you don’t have a concussion, it turns out your arm is worse than expected.

You have what you’re told is called a Galezzi fracture, so not only is the bone broken, but there’s a dislocation at your wrist as well. The worst part is that this requires surgery to fix. But at least it’s considered emergent, and after a few more tests, you’re taken into surgery. 

By that evening you find yourself settling into a comfy bed at Harry’s home. You’re quite fuzzy on the details, since the pain meds in the hospital are rather strong, but Mitch explains that your surgery went great and there was no need for you to stay overnight. And apparently Harry insisted that you all stay with him for a little while, since his place is most secure. 

It’s not even dinnertime, and yet you’re exhausted. Mitch helps you settle in bed and says, “Get some rest. I might run to the store to grab ingredients to make grandma’s soup, but I shouldn’t be gone long, and Harry is downstairs if you need him.”

It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep, and you’re completely unaware of the conversation happening downstairs.

“Hey, can I talk to you for a minute?” Mitch asks, sitting down at the kitchen table across from Harry who’s sipping a cup of tea.

“Yea, of course,” Harry replies.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for all of your help since last night. But you’ve really gone out of your way for me and Y/N. I mean, coming with me, staying with us all night at the hospital, and now having us stay with you? It’s very kind of you, but it’s also a lot. It’s more than I could expect.”

“Mitch, I don’t mind at all. It’s truly not a bother. I have the means to help, and, well I care about you and Y/N.”

They sit quietly for a moment, then Mitch says, “Y/N likes you. The only reason I’m telling you is because those drugs they gave her are pretty strong and I’m almost positive she’s going to spill the beans in the next day or two. But she does. You were her celebrity crush, and she swears that she doesn’t see you the same way anymore. But now I think it’s just a normal crush on a guy she’s friends with. And here you are, as a knight in shining armor, taking care of her after a traumatic experience. I just don’t want her getting hurt.”

“I promise, I would never hurt her,” Harry says emphatically. 

“I know. I also know that I’d kill you if you ever did. I don’t care that you are my friend and my boss.”

“I would expect nothing less,” Harry says, thinking of his own sister and how he’d react in that situation.

“Just, let her down easy, okay?”

Harry is silent again before finally asking, “Can I be honest here?”

“Of course,” Mitch says, curious to hear what comes next.

“I uhm, I like Y/N too. I know that she’s my best friend's sister and all, but I’ve liked her since that first time she visited the studio. But my life is so complicated right now, and I’ve been trying to keep my distance and keep my feelings at bay, but they’re definitely there. I just don’t know what to do.”

“Take me out of the equation,” Mitch says. “I know people say not to date friend’s siblings, but don’t let me hold you back. Obviously I wouldn’t recommend asking her out until she’s recovered from this situation, and you should figure out if it could work with the tour you’re planning. But, I think you’re a good guy. And, uh, I think you and Y/N could be happy together.” 

Silence falls over the pair again. Seeing that Harry is deep in thought, Mitch says, “I’ll let you ponder on that a bit. Is it okay if I run to the store? I told Y/N that you’d be here if she needs anything.”

“Absolutely, of course that’s fine. See you in a bit.”

Harry continues to sit at the table, after Mitch has left, after he’s finished his tea; he sits there and thinks about the conversation with Mitch.

The only thing to break him out of his reveries is the sound of someone in distress. He stands up and immediately heads to the stairs, running up them two at a time when he hears you cry out again. He walks into the bedroom at the exact moment when you finally wake up from your nightmare. 

For a moment he stands there, waiting for you to indicate what you need. At the same time you freeze, reorienting to where you are. Once your brain finally catches up, you reach out to Harry with your good arm. He understands your request for comfort and sits next to you, carefully helping you shift so you can settle in his arms. 

He holds you gently, wiping away the tears that have started falling once again. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “You’re okay. You’re safe. I’ve got you, love.” You slowly relax until you’re able to fall back to sleep, cuddled against Harry. 

When Mitch arrives home he unloads the groceries and promptly checks on you. He’s surprised to see Harry in bed with you and whispers, “Everything alright?”

Harry nods and replies, “Yea, she had a bad dream but she’s good now.”

“Alright, I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”

Mitch leaves, and Harry continues to hold you, imagining what it would be like to be able to wrap his arms around you in better circumstances. 

He desires a relationship with you, has for months now. But he knows it wouldn’t be fair to start something when he’s planning to travel so much so soon. He can’t ask you to leave school and come with him, but he can’t leave you behind. 

As you continue to sleep, he comes to the conclusion that the time isn’t right. He’ll release his album, do his tour, and then he can ask you out.

It’s a smart decision. But it’s one he’ll regret for years to come. 

Early the next year, Harry is busier than ever, getting everything ready for his album release. He’s put together a band that he’s excited to perform with, each member showing extreme talent while still remaining down to earth. 

Your arm has healed, but the nature of the injury has made your left hand weaker. No matter how much you try, you can’t play guitar the way you used to. You simply don’t have enough strength in your left hand to press down hard enough on the strings to make the clear sound needed.

You spend time at the studio, watching the band practice and then practicing yourself when they finish. Mitch stays with you, trying to help you retrain your hand, but even with the physical therapy you’ve been doing, you just can’t get it. 

The others are aware of your struggle as well, and all give encouragement. But it’s Sarah who does more and says, “Have you tried drums? You don't need quite as much strength in your fingers, just need to be able to hold the sticks. 

The three of you stay for hours that evening as Mitch and Sarah work together to teach you the basics. It’s fun, and therapeutic, and you can’t help but feel that you may be playing matchmaker. You know your brother, and it’s easy to see the way he looks at Sarah, how he acts around her. 

And from what you can tell, Sarah feels the same way. You admit you’d love for that to be true. Sarah is so nice, and always makes you feel at ease. You wouldn’t mind having her join the family, and it would be nice to finally have another girl around. 

But as always, the next journey begins. Harry, Mitch, and all the others have a busy year ahead of them. 

They leave to travel the world and play concerts for all of Harry’s adoring fans. You dive into your studies, and by the end of the fall semester of sophomore year, you’re happy to report to Mitch that you have a boyfriend. 

It’s amazing how quickly time can fly. Life has changed throughout your time in college, and you’re now in the fall semester of senior year. 

Mitch has helped Harry with his second album, which will be released in just a couple of months. Just like last time, you occasionally got to hear songs as they were being written, giving feedback but mostly being amazed. 

Unfortunately, your boyfriend was not all that happy with you spending time at the studio. After nearly two years together, his bad side reared its ugly head, in the most unexpected way. The last thing you thought you’d see when bringing coffee to his dorm was him in bed with another girl. And yet, that’s exactly what you walked in on.

The fight that ensues isn’t pretty, and it ends with you single and heartbroken, immediately making your way to the studio where Harry and his band are rehearsing. 

“What’s wrong?” Mitch asks the second you walk in.

“Nothing,” you state, clearly lying.

“Liar,” Mitch replies.

“I broke up with Aaron.”

At this news, Mitch and Sarah sit on either side of you on the couch. The rest of the band heads to another room to take a break. And Harry, well, he seems busy, fiddling with a notebook nearby.

“What happened, love?” Sarah asks as she wraps an arm around your shoulders, God, you’re grateful to have her in your life right now.

“I caught him in bed with another girl,” you explain.

If you weren’t so upset, Mitch and Harry’s reactions would probably be comical. 

“He did what?” they shout in unison, clearly outraged on your behalf. You expected this from your brother, but you’re thrown by how angry Harry is. 

“I was bringing him coffee, because he said he was working on a project. That ‘project’ ended up being named Margo. And it turns out he lied to her because she was very surprised to find out there was a girlfriend. So he’s the only asshole here. Margo punched him in the dick, so that was appreciated.”

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” Sarah says.

You want to brush it off, say you’re fine. But it’s not. “Two years together and he just goes and does this? I mean, I thought he was the one! That we’d get married and have kids and all that shit. And now I have to start over?”

“At least you found the truth now before wasting any of your time,” Sarah says.

“You’re young, you have plenty of time to find someone who isn’t a total dick,” Mitch adds. 

“Ugh, I guess you’re right. But,” you pause, collecting your thoughts before saying, “But why wasn’t I enough for him?”

“Hey, don’t even think like that,” Harry says. “You are more than enough. He isn’t good enough for you, you understand me?”

Once again taken aback by his intensity, you nod to show that you’re listening. 

“C’mon, let’s go,” Harry says.

“What? Go where? You guys are in the middle of rehearsal.”

“We rehearsed all day yesterday, we’ll rehearse all day tomorrow. We can end a bit early today. I bet everyone could use a night off. We’ll go out, get some food, get some drinks, it’ll be fun!” 

And that’s how you find yourself in the middle of an L.A. nightclub on a Thursday night, grateful that your schedule for this semester does not include any Friday classes. Because while the night starts pretty tame, things… escalate.

You’re newly 21, and heartbroken, and you’ve had drinks in hand all night, though you haven’t bought a single one for yourself. It’s the perfect formula for things to get crazy. 

Mitch and Sarah head out after a couple hours. They worry about leaving you, but you reassure them a dozen times that you’ll be fine, and Harry tells them he’ll keep an eye on you. That’s enough for them to leave you alone with Harry. In your tipsy state you admit to yourself that this is, in fact, the desired outcome.

You thought you’d gotten over this crush years ago, but being here with him, recently single and a few drinks deep, you know that was a lie. You’d simply pushed down your feelings, told yourself you only liked him as a friend.

And then a song comes on that you love, and you pull Harry out to the dance floor. He goes willingly, happy that you’re no longer in a relationship and he doesn’t need to feel bad about being attracted to you. He hasn’t had much to drink, since his goal for the night is to make sure you’re safe and having a good time, but he’s had enough to feel a little loose. 

Which explains why his hands find your waist just seconds after yours loop around his neck. He pulls you close, until you’re nearly flush against him. The two of you get lost in the music, moving together to the beat, unaware that you’re pulling each other closer. 

It isn’t until his lips brush against yours that you realize your proximity. But neither of you pull away. Instead, Harry presses forward, his lips meeting yours in a surprisingly sweet kiss. It only lasts a second and then he’s gone, stepping back and saying, “We shouldn’t.”

You know he’s right, and part of you feels rejected. But another part of you rejoices in the fact that he kissed you. Not the other way around. Your mind wanders with possibilities, the possibility that he likes you, that he finds you attractive. Maybe he really does want you, but he’s being a gentleman. Afterall, you’ve been drinking, and you just got broken up with. 

This theory is backed by the fact that he still has a hand on your waist, making sure he remains in contact even just a little bit. 

“It’s getting late. We should get going,” he says next.

You pout and say, “Don’t wanna go back to my dorm.”

“Mitch and Sarah’s then?” He suggests.

“So I can see them being annoyingly in love? I’d rather not.”

“Okay. Do you want to stay in my guest room?” he asks, and you light up at the suggestion.

“Yes, please!” you say excitedly. You’ve spent some time at his place, having slept in that bed before after events at his house, and it’s the comfiest, coziest bed you’ve ever slept in. It’s exactly where you want to end this long, emotional day.

Harry picks up his phone and after a minute, says, “Cars on it’s way. Let’s get some water and head outside.” You follow his lead and soon find yourself next to him in the back of a luxurious car. You’re starting to get sleepy, and without thinking about it, you rest your head on Harry’s shoulder. With your eyes now closed, you miss the warm smile that spreads across his face at the gesture. 

A little while later you arrive at his house, and he wraps an arm around you to help you inside. He briefly ducks into his room and comes back with some clothes for you to wear to bed. 

“Go get ready, I’m gonna grab a couple things and leave them in the guest room for you,” he says. 

You go to the hallway bathroom to get changed and do a cut back version of your bedtime routine. When you get to the room, Harry is there placing water, snacks, and some painkillers on the bedside table. Noticing you look at him he says, “Just in case you need anything,” as explanation. “I’ll be in my room if there’s anything else you need.”

He goes to leave but you ask, “Can you stay? For a little while, I mean. Just until I fall asleep?”

His face goes soft at the request, and he replies, “Of course, love.”

You climb into bed, surrounded by the softest blankets in the world. Harry sits on top of the covers, his hand moving to stroke your hair until you quickly fall asleep. He stays for a little bit to make sure you’re really out, then presses a barely there kiss to your head before pulling himself away and going to his own room.

The next morning you wake up feeling better than you should considering how hard you went the night before. You still eat the granola bar that Harry left and take the pain relievers, downing the rest of the water as you do so. 

You sit there and can’t help but think about all the people who would kill to be in your position. Relaxing in Harry Styles’ bed, having kissed him the night before. God, you cannot believe you and Harry had actually kissed. You’d been single mere hours and already kissed another man. 

You’re conflicted by this. You’d spent years with Aaron, thought he was the man you’re going to marry. But you have to be honest, there was always a part of you that remained attracted to Harry. You know that you probably would have left Aaron if you had any chance with Harry, and that leaves you feeling incredibly guilty. 

Picking up your phone you see a number of texts and missed calls from Mitch. Without even reading through everything you text him saying, “I’m fine, crashed at Harry’s. Can you come pick me up?”

He replies, “On my way,” almost immediately. 

You wait a few minutes before heading downstairs, knowing you’ll see Harry but now knowing what to say. You finally suck it up and leave the guest room, bumping into him almost immediately in the hallway.

“Hey. Good morning. How are you feeling?” he says.

“Good, I’m good. Thanks for looking out for me last night. It was fun.”

“Yea, it was a good night. Can I make you some breakfast?” 

“Oh, that’s okay. Mitch will be here in a couple of minutes,” you reply. 

“Got it. That’s good then.”

The two of you stand there awkwardly, more timid around each other than usual. You can only assume he’s ignoring the kiss that happened just like you are. 

Thankfully your phone dings with a message that your brother is there.

“Guess I should get going,” you say.

“Of course, I’ll let you out.”

Harry walks with you to the front door, but before he opens it he turns to you and says, “I know it’s hard to heal from a breakup, so just, you know- I’m always here for you. If you need anything.”

It’s shockingly earnest, and takes you by surprise. This man who is more busy than anyone you know, willing to help you through a broken heart. You don’t know what to say so you just wrap your arms around his neck in a quick hug. He’s barely returned the gesture when you pull away, thanking him once again and heading out the door and into your brother’s car. 

Mitch waves to Harry as you buckle your seatbelt, and once you’re ready, he starts driving. 

“So what happened last night?” he asks. 

“Nothing.” 

“Y/N.” 

“I mean, not nothing. But like, nothing to worry about. So don’t worry about it.”

“Okay well now I am worrying.”

“It’s fine!” 

Silence falls over the two of you, an awkward air permeating the car. It wears you down, and finally you break and exclaim, “Okay, fine! Harry and I kissed! But just like, a little bit. So tiny. Like, blink and you miss it. So it’s no big deal, got it?”

“Oh shit,” is his only reply.

The silence is back, and has you feeling restless. 

“Mitch?”

“Yea?”

“Are you mad?” you ask.

“What? No,” he answers immediately. “I’m not mad. But you just had your heart broken. And any relationship with Harry would be complicated, especially a rebound.”

“He’s not a rebound! I like him. It was just one kiss. That’s all. I don’t plan on going further, I swear.”

“Okay. Did you have breakfast? I can make pancakes.”

“Pancakes sound good,” you answer, once again grateful for your brother who knows exactly how to support you through anything. 

Pancakes with Mitch and Sarah are just what you need. And when you do go back to campus and tell your friends what happened, they help you even more by cursing Aaron’s name, saying they’ll make sure word gets out that he’s a cheater.

You move on from that relationship, but no one new catches your eye. You’re finishing your second to last semester at college, starting to focus on job hunting, and spending time with your brother, Harry, and the band before Fine Line’s release in December.

They’re busy of course, but take a break for the holidays before picking things back up in the new year. You’re prepared to say goodbye to them for months, so it comes as a shock when a pandemic shuts down the world and leads to you moving in with Mitch and Sarah when your dorm closes. 

After only a couple weeks Harry moves in as well. He’d been living alone in his big house and you all knew it was weighing on him. He is clearly relieved to be staying with people, and the four of you make the most of this time in lockdown. 

Since the house isn’t that big, Harry ends up sleeping on the pull out couch in the living room. This naturally leads to the two of you spending a lot of late evenings together watching movies after Mitch and Sarah have called it a night. You guys both make fun of them for becoming an old married couple, but they clearly don’t mind the teasing.

You and Harry grow even closer during this time. Since your classes have switched to online, and Harry rarely has anything scheduled, you tend to stay up late talking about anything and everything. 

May comes, the world still shut down, and you officially graduate college. Mitch, Sarah, and Harry manage to surprise you with a graduation celebration to mark the big occasion. As always, you and Harry stay up late, talking about hopes and dreams and big plans. All the things that a graduation has people thinking about.

It’s even later than usual, and you and Harry end up sliding closer and closer as the minutes tick by. Just like the time at the club, you don’t notice how close you’ve gotten until you feel Harry’s breath ghost across your skin. 

This time you do pull back, just enough to look in Harry’s eyes and confirm he wants this too. When you see the determination there, you lean in again. There’s a slight pause, just enough to build the tension, and then your lips brush. 

And then you hear a noise, jumping back a second before Sarah walks in the room. The three of you look at each other, no one speaking a word for an agonizingly long time.

“Just grabbing some water,” Sarah says as she walks to the kitchen. 

When she walks back through the living room to go upstairs you feel you need to explain and say, “We were just talking. Lost track of time.”

“I’m sure you did,” she replies with a knowing smirk before she walks away. 

The moment having passed, you say, “I should probably get to bed.”

“I guess so,” Harry answers as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. The gentle contact makes you blush and he says, “Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Harry,” you reply.

You lay in bed, thinking about how close you came to kissing once again. It was clear he wanted it, and there was no alcohol to blame this time. You’ve been single for months, you start a totally virtual job soon, and all the reasons for staying away from Harry in the past, don’t seem like reasons anymore. 

You remember years ago promising Mitch you would never ask Harry out, but now you’re determined to break that promise. Your brother will understand. You hope.

The next day Sarah invites you and Harry to join her and Mitch on a walk. You decline, saying you planned to facetime with your mom. Harry decides to stay home as well, claiming he needs to catch up on some emails he’s been putting off.

You ignore the knowing smirk that Sarah once again sends to the two of you, grateful that Mitch still seems oblivious. 

Once you and Harry are alone in the house he asks if the two of you can talk.

Seated at the kitchen table, mugs of tea in hand, Harry begins. “I don’t really know how to say this. But I feel like I should just be honest.”

He pauses, and your mind swirls with what it is he’s going to be honest about. 

He takes a large breath, exhaling loudly before saying, “I like you. Have for a while. You just- you’re one of my favorite people to hang out with, and you’re so smart, and kind, and funny, not to mention talented and so, so pretty. And if you’ll agree, I’d love to take you out on a proper date.”

You sit there, eyes wide and mouth slightly open in shock. Sure, you were just last night thinking all those things about Harry, but to find out he feels the same way as you? Even with the sweet moments and the chemistry you’ve been feeling, this admission still hits you like it came out of thin air.

Harry starts to squirm and you realize you should probably answer him. You compose yourself and manage to say, “Yes. A proper date. That sounds lovely. And, uhm, I like you too.” The end comes out at barely a whisper, but you know Harry hears it as he smiles so big both dimples appear on his cheeks. 

But then a thought occurs to you, and you ask, “How are we doing a proper date in a pandemic? We can’t go out anywhere.”

“Don’t worry about that, I have a plan,” he says with a pleased expression. 

And that, the fact that he’s obviously put thought into this, proves that he’s felt this way for a while, just like you have. 

“Then I’m looking forward to it,” you reply.

“How about tonight?” He asks.

You’re surprised by that, and he must notice because he backtracks and says, “Or we can wait a couple days. I don’t mean to rush you, I just, we’ve waited so long-”

You cut him off and say, “Tonight is perfect.” You agree, enough of waiting around. 

“Wonderful! Then it’s a date.”

“It’s a date,” you confirm. 

The two of you finish your tea in companionable silence before you get up to actually call your mom as you’d promised her. 

For the rest of the day you can’t help but wonder what Harry’s plan is. He does tell you to get a little dressy, so you spend much of the afternoon getting ready. Harry leaves for a couple hours and goes back to his house, leaving you with a very nosy Mitch and Sarah.

They know something is going on between the two of you, and keep asking questions, but you repeatedly brush them off. Truthfully you don’t have many details to give. 

When Harry gets back he’s dressed in slacks and a blouse, one of your favorite looks on him. It’s the perfect combination of casual and fancy, just enough buttons undone to tease. He’s holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers, which Sarah helps you find a vase for. While the two of you are busy with that, Mitch takes Harry aside to give the typical big brother talk. 

Finally, Harry is leading you out to the car, Mitch and Sarah watching on like proud parents. Harry continues to keep the plan a secret, so you’re curious when he pulls into the driveway of his home. He parks the car and comes to open your door like a true gentleman. 

The two of you walk through the house and out to the back patio, where you see the beautiful surprise Harry has planned for you. He’s decorated the whole area, a bottle of wine ready on the table, and he explains that dinner he’s prepared.

He pulls out your chair and helps you settle in before bringing out appetizers. All of the food is delicious, and you enjoy every minute of the meal. There's a moment as you cut your food that your left hand slips a bit, never having regained full strength after the attack your freshman year. Noticing this, Harry quickly reaches over to finish the task for you before gently reaching out to hold your hand, his thumb stroking over the scar from your surgery. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t bring it up, but comforts you all the same. 

The rest of the meal passes without incident, and the sun sets just as you’re eating dessert. It’s perfect, and romantic, and truly is the best date you’ve ever been on. The night ends in Harry’s bed, both of you too impatient to wait any longer after years of wanting one another. 

Since you and Harry have been friends for so long, it only feels natural to slip into this new relationship status of boyfriend and girlfriend. You start spending more and more time at Harry’s house, which apparently gives Mitch and Sarah more alone time together, since at the end of summer they share the news that Sarah is pregnant. 

The next three years are the most exciting whirlwind for all of you. Mitch and Sarah get married, then have a baby just days after they all perform together for the Grammys. Love on Tour begins a few months later, and you're so excited that your remote job allows you to travel with them for every show. 

Sarah makes sure you know all of her parts, making you her backup in case something happens and she needs to miss a show. You’re confident that won’t happen, and then one night, it does. 

It’s August 2022, night 5 at Madison Square Garden in New York City. Sarah comes down with what seems to be a nasty bout of food poisoning, and you’re asked to perform for her. You sit backstage before show time, an absolute mess of nerves. But then Mitch comes and sits with you, quietly hyping you up. The two of you sit and talk about playing music together when you were kids, and soon enough your nerves switch to excitement. 

Harry asks that you stop by his dressing room before going on stage. When you stop in he wraps you in his arms, telling you how happy he is that you’ll be out there with them. Having him be so confident in you and your skills boosts your energy even more, and you can’t wait to get out there.

The show goes perfectly, and Harry gives you a special shout out during the band intros, thanking you for filling in. Hundreds, possibly thousands of cameras film the interaction, which is why it’s no surprise that people are making theories about your relationship with Harry by the next day. You’d managed to keep the fact that you’re dating a secret for two years now, but the look he gives you on stage is undeniable. The truth that Harry is dating his guitarist/best friend’s sister is out, and honestly, you’re relieved. Especially since people seem to be happy about it, and have apparently some fans even shipped the two of you together before. 

With the success of that show, Harry asks you to fill in for Sarah on the entire Australia and Asia leg of tour. She and Mitch are taking a break, focusing on other projects and giving their now two year old a break from traveling for a bit. 

Now that people know you and Harry are dating, you’re nervous that they might think you got this gig because of that. Luckily it seems most people are just saying that Harry is lucky to have found the Rowlands, since they seem to be a very talented family. And well, that’s the best compliment you could have ever hoped for. 

You now better understand the post-concert adrenaline Harry always has, and truthfully, your sex life has only benefited from this development. 

There’s a part of you that’s sad that you won’t be on stage with Harry for the last leg of tour, but that feeling fades away the second he comes out on stage in Denmark and you get to watch in amazement once again. You’re especially glad to be in the audience for Slane Castle, and Wembley, and most importantly, Italy. 

The pride you feel watching him up there is overwhelming. The years that you’ve been together have been the happiest of your life, and you feel so much love for him. 

Which is why, two days later, when he gets down on one knee and asks you to marry him, there’s no question. You immediately say yes.

While the last two years have been all about tour, the next few years are all about building your lives together. You get married in a small ceremony, just family and close friends. Watching Mitch and Sarah’s son interact with Gemma’s baby girl practically kick starts your biological clock. 

You and Harry make sure to enjoy the honeymoon phase for a while, but the desire to become parents grows more and more every day. When you decide to start trying it doesn’t happen right away, but after a few months, you excitedly call him into your room.

He finds you sitting on the edge of the bed, smiling and holding what is clearly a pregnancy test.

“Is it? Are you?” he asks.

“I’m pregnant,” you confirm and immediately he begins to cry and smile all at once, wrapping you in his arms and holding you tight.

“I love you so much,” he says before sliding to kneel on the floor. He places his hands on your hips and looks at your belly before saying, “And I love you too, little one.” It’s when he places a kiss on your stomach that you finally start to cry happy tears as well. 

Neither of you can wait to tell your families, who are ecstatic by the news as well. The biggest surprise is when you tell Mitch and Sarah, who share that Sarah is pregnant as well. Knowing that your child will grow up with cousins so close in age sends you into another bit of hormone induced happy tears.

The surprises continue when you go to your first OB appointment, and you learn that you’re having twins. And when you learn a couple months later that they’re both girls, Harry quickly settles in his role as a girl dad.

As expected, he is the best partner through all of this. He gets any craving you may have, does the hard work around the house, does anything and everything he can to help you be as comfortable as possible. He never stops telling you how beautiful you are, even when you’re six months along with two babies and feeling like a beached whale. 

You talk to Gemma and Sarah nearly every day, getting advice and reassurance from them, especially as you get closer to actually giving birth. Sarah has her baby just as you get to seven months and holding your new nephew in your arms is like a reality check that you’ll have two of these little ones in just a few weeks.

Harry continues to support you however he can, but as the weeks go by you start to admit that you’re just going to live in this discomfort until the babies are here. You just remind yourself that each day of heartburn and back pain is another day your babies get to cook inside you. 

When you do go into labor at 36 weeks, Harry remains calm and steady. His presence is grounding, and he gives you the strength to give birth to two beautiful and healthy baby girls. 

A few weeks later your house is full, both yours and Harry’s families there to visit. Some people might find it overwhelming, but in this moment, you’re simply filled with joy. You watch as Harry holds his niece, Gemma and Sarah each have one of your babies, and your parents entertain Mitch and Sarah’s sons. It’s crazy, and chaotic, and it’s like a dream you never knew you had has now come true. 

Mitch sits next to you, not saying anything, but putting an arm around your shoulders for a moment. He doesn’t need any words for you to know he’s taking it all in too. You’re grateful to have him by your side. Your big brother, your protector, and most importantly, your best friend. 

Harry hands his niece off to his mother and sits on your other side. Mitch smiles, gives you one last squeeze and goes to play with his toddler. Harry presses a kiss to your head and you sink into his side. You can’t help but feel like the luckiest person in the world to experience all this love.

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AN: Thank you so much for reading! I really loved writing this one. Side note, chose that picture because I love smiley Harry, but also, love smiley Mitch in the background.

[niallerspayno]

About Last Night (Louis Tomlinson x reader) - Fic Request

Masterlist

Anonymous request: Hi!! I was wondering if you could do Louis Tomlinson x fem! Reader who is in the band, her and Louis always had a flirty relationship but always told people it was a joke until one night during one of their tours things get heated between them and they hook up, a few weeks later reader finds out she’s pregnant and doesn’t know how to tell Louis so she goes to her best friend Niall Horan for advice and Louis ends up over hearing them? Smut and fluff please!!

Tags: Louis x reader, friends to lovers, smut, pregnancy, fluff, angst

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

…

The arena hums softly with the buzz of amps and muffled conversations, but your focus is already on Louis, who stands near the drum kit, spinning a drumstick between his fingers with that familiar mischievous glint in his eye. This is how it’s always been with the two of you—partners in chaos, constantly toeing the line of what you can get away with, but never crossing it. The harmless flirting, the relentless teasing—it’s your thing.

“Don’t even think about it,” you call out, a grin tugging at your lips.

Louis turns to you, all innocence and dimples. “Think about what, love?”

“Oh, you know exactly what,” you say, stepping closer. “Put the stick down before you get us all in trouble.”

“Trouble?” he echoes, mock-offended. “I am the very definition of responsibility.”

“You’re the definition of a menace,” you retort, grabbing the other drumstick off the snare. You twirl it between your fingers and smirk at him. “If you’re going to cause chaos, at least make it entertaining.”

His eyes light up at your challenge. “I knew I could count on you, partner.”

Before anyone can stop you, Louis taps the microphone stand with his drumstick, and you follow suit, matching his rhythm with the snare drum. The resulting cacophony blares through the speakers, earning a collective groan from Liam and the sound crew.

“Really?!” Liam barks from center stage, throwing his hands up. “Do you two have to do this every time?”

“Yes,” you and Louis say in unison, both grinning like kids caught raiding the cookie jar.

“Unbelievable,” Liam mutters, shaking his head.

“Oh, lighten up, Payno,” Louis says, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “We’re just making things more fun.”

“Fun is subjective,” Liam replies, deadpan.

Louis doesn’t even acknowledge him, already pulling you toward the piano at the corner of the stage. “Come on, let’s give them a real show.”

You follow without hesitation, laughing as you plop down on the bench beside him. “Alright, Mozart, let’s hear it.”

“Watch and learn, darling,” he says, cracking his knuckles dramatically before slamming his fingers onto the keys.

The result is an aggressively off-key rendition of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, and you immediately burst into laughter, doubling over as he continues his “masterpiece.”

“Wow,” you say between giggles, clapping along. “Move over, Beethoven. Louis Tomlinson has arrived.”

“I know,” he says smugly, tossing you a wink. “Don’t be jealous of my talent.”

“Talent?” you tease, leaning closer. “This is more like a crime against music.”

“Oh, you wound me,” he says, clutching his chest in mock pain. “But I’ll forgive you because you look cute when you’re pretending to be unimpressed.”

You arch an eyebrow, leaning in just enough to close the space between you. “Who says I’m pretending?”

He falters for a split second, just enough for you to notice, before recovering with a smirk. “I knew you couldn’t resist me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you reply, but the playful tone in your voice makes it clear you’re enjoying every second.

The moment lingers, his eyes locked on yours, the air between you buzzing with unspoken tension. But before anything can happen, Liam’s voice cuts through like a bucket of cold water.

“Enough!” he shouts. “Can we please get back to work?”

Louis groans dramatically, standing up and offering you a hand. “Fine, Payno. We’ll behave. For now.”

“Behaving’s overrated anyway,” you say, letting him pull you to your feet.

He grins, leaning in just enough to make your heart race. “Spoken like a true partner in crime.”

You smirk back, the flush creeping up your neck impossible to hide. “You couldn’t handle this partnership without me.”

“Oh, don’t I know it,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, before finally letting you go.

As you return to your spot on stage, his laughter still ringing in your ears, you can’t help but feel the familiar thrill that comes with being Louis’s partner in crime. This is just how it’s always been—safe, playful, and light. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

…

The club is alive with pulsing music, flashing lights, and the hum of conversation. The six of you—plus a few crew members—have commandeered a booth near the dance floor, a place to regroup between rounds of drinks and bursts of reckless fun. The night is supposed to be lighthearted, a rare break in the chaos of touring. But your attention keeps drifting toward the bar, where Louis leans casually against the counter, chatting up a pair of girls who can’t stop giggling at whatever he’s saying.

You take another sip of your drink, the sharp burn of tequila doing little to distract you. It shouldn’t bother you. This is Louis, after all—flirty, charming, and always ready to make someone’s night with a cheeky grin. It’s harmless. Always harmless. Just like it’s always been with you and him.

But tonight, it stings.

“You alright there, love?”

Niall’s voice pulls you from your thoughts, and you turn to find him sliding into the booth beside you, a fresh pint in hand. His blue eyes are sharper than they should be after three rounds, catching onto your mood immediately.

“Fine,” you say quickly, forcing a smile. “Just enjoying the view.”

Niall snorts, following your gaze toward Louis. “Ah. Him.”

“Him what?” you ask, though your tone is defensive even to your own ears.

“You’re watching him like he owes you money,” Niall says, smirking, but his voice softens when he adds, “What’s going on?”

You hesitate, swirling your drink in your hand. Niall’s always been the one you confide in, the one who listens without judgment. But this—whatever this is—feels like dangerous territory.

“It’s nothing,” you lie.

“Sure it is,” he says, leaning closer. “Come on. You’re never this quiet.”

You glance at Louis again, just in time to see him lean in to whisper something in one of the girls’ ears. Your chest tightens, and before you can stop yourself, the words spill out.

“It’s stupid,” you say, setting your glass down with more force than necessary. “I just… I don’t get how he can be like that. Flirting with everyone, acting like it’s all a game.”

Niall raises an eyebrow. “That’s just Louis, though. You know that.”

“Yeah,” you mutter, staring at the condensation on your glass. “But sometimes I wonder if it’s ever not a game for him. If he ever actually means it.”

Niall doesn’t answer right away, his gaze steady and thoughtful. Finally, he says, “And what if he does? Would that change things?”

You laugh, though it’s bitter and hollow. “Not for him. He’d still be Louis, and I’d still be the idiot who gets worked up over it.”

“Hey,” Niall says gently, nudging your shoulder. “You’re not an idiot. You care about him. That’s not stupid.”

You look at him, startled by how easily he’s put words to something you’ve been trying to deny. “I didn’t say I care about him.”

“You didn’t have to.”

His voice is kind, but it hits you like a punch to the gut. You reach for your drink again, draining the rest of it in one go.

“Okay,” you say, standing up abruptly. “I need another one.”

“Hang on,” Niall says, grabbing your wrist before you can escape. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? You’re already—”

“Drinking?” you interrupt, flashing him a wry smile. “Yeah, I know. That’s kind of the point.”

Niall lets you go, watching as you make your way to the bar. You don’t look at Louis as you order another round, but you can feel his presence—his laughter, his charm—like a static charge in the air.

When you return to the booth, Niall’s still waiting, his expression unreadable. “You don’t have to tell him, you know,” he says quietly.

“Tell him what?”

“Whatever it is you’re feeling. If you’re not ready, that’s okay.”

You sit down, your drink clutched tightly in your hands. “What if I never am?”

Niall shrugs, his usual easygoing demeanor softening. “Then that’s okay, too. But just… don’t beat yourself up over it, alright? He’s an idiot, but he’d be even more of one not to see how great you are.”

You manage a small smile, but the ache in your chest doesn’t fade. Across the room, Louis throws his head back in laughter, and you drain your drink, trying not to think about what it would mean if Niall was right.

...

You’re halfway through your drink, the alcohol starting to make the room blur at the edges, when you feel someone slide into the booth beside you. It’s not Niall this time—he’s gone to the bar for another round.

“Having fun, partner?”

You don’t need to look to know it’s Louis. His voice, low and warm, cuts through the haze like a match striking in the dark.

“Loads,” you reply, your tone sharper than you intended. You focus on your glass, not him.

There’s a pause, and then he leans closer, so close you can feel the heat of him against your arm. “What’s got you in a mood, then?”

You scoff, finally turning to meet his gaze. “Why would I be in a mood?”

Louis’s brow furrows, and he studies you with a mixture of curiosity and concern. “Dunno. That’s why I’m asking.”

You shrug, trying to brush him off. “It’s nothing. Go back to your fans.”

Realization dawns in his expression, and his lips curve into a small smirk. “Ah, so that’s what this is about.”

You roll your eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t,” he says, his tone light but his eyes sharp. He tilts his head toward the bar, where the girls he’d been chatting with have moved on. “They’re just fans, love. Took a couple photos, had a laugh. That’s all.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you say quickly, taking another sip of your drink.

“Clearly, it does,” he counters, his voice dipping lower.

You glance at him, and the teasing edge in his expression is gone, replaced by something quieter. More serious. It makes your stomach flip, and you hate how easily he gets under your skin.

“I just don’t get how you can do it,” you murmur, the words slipping out before you can stop them. “Turn it on and off like it’s nothing.”

Louis stares at you for a moment, his blue eyes searching yours. Then he leans back slightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “You think it’s nothing?”

You don’t answer, and he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not. I just… I don’t know. It’s easier sometimes to keep it light, you know? Keeps people from expecting too much.”

Your chest tightens at his words, and you look away, focusing on the dance floor instead. It feels safer than looking at him when he’s being like this—honest and raw in a way that catches you off guard.

Louis follows your gaze, then nudges you with his shoulder. “Come on.”

“What?”

“Dance with me.”

You blink at him. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” he says, standing up and holding a hand out to you. “Unless you’re scared you can’t keep up.”

It’s a challenge, one you’d normally accept without hesitation. But tonight, there’s something heavier in the air between you, something that makes you hesitate.

“Louis…” you start, but he cuts you off.

“Just one dance, love. For old time’s sake.”

You sigh, finishing the last of your drink before placing your hand in his. His grip is warm and steady as he pulls you to your feet, leading you toward the dance floor.

The music is loud and fast, but Louis doesn’t seem to care. He spins you around dramatically, earning a laugh despite yourself, and when he pulls you close, his grin is infectious.

“There she is,” he says, his voice just loud enough for you to hear over the music. “I knew you couldn’t stay mad at me.”

“I’m not mad,” you reply, though you’re not sure it’s true.

“No?” he asks, leaning in until his lips are just inches from your ear. “Then what are you?”

The question lingers, hanging between you as the beat of the music thrums in your chest. You glance up at him, your breath catching at the way he’s looking at you—like you’re the only thing in the room that matters.

And then, as if drawn by some invisible force, your fingers tighten around his, and you let him pull you closer.

The music is deafening, the bass vibrating through your chest as Louis pulls you closer. The heat of the crowd presses in around you—sweaty bodies moving together in time with the pulsing beat—but all you can feel is him. His hand rests lightly on your waist, fingers brushing against the bare skin where your top has ridden up, and the touch sends a jolt of electricity through you.

You match his rhythm, your bodies swaying together as the lights flash and the room spins in a blur of color and sound. He leans down, his breath warm against your ear as he murmurs something you can’t hear over the music. But it doesn’t matter, because the low rasp of his voice alone makes your pulse race.

Your hands find their way to his shoulders, then slide down to his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath your fingertips. His eyes lock onto yours, dark and intense, and for a moment, it’s as if the entire club has faded away.

He’s looking at you like he’s never seen you before, like he’s trying to memorize every detail. And you can’t look away.

“Louis,” you manage to say, but your voice is swallowed by the music.

He doesn’t answer, just pulls you even closer, his forehead resting lightly against yours. His hand tightens on your waist, his thumb tracing slow circles against your skin, and it’s almost too much.

The air between you is charged, thick with something you can’t quite name but can’t ignore either. And when his lips brush against your temple—soft, almost tentative—it sends a shiver down your spine.

Your resolve snaps.

Without thinking, you grab his hand and tug him toward the edge of the dance floor, weaving through the crowd until you find a dark hallway leading toward the bathrooms.

“Here?” he asks, his voice rough and breathless as you pull him into the dimly lit space.

“Unless you’ve got a better idea,” you reply, your back pressing against the wall as he steps closer, crowding into your space.

He doesn’t hesitate. His hands are on your hips in an instant, his lips crashing against yours with a force that makes your head spin. It’s all heat and desperation, months of tension unraveling in a single, searing kiss.

You fist your hands in his shirt, pulling him closer, and he groans softly against your lips. The sound sends a thrill through you, and you arch into him, gasping when his mouth moves to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses down your skin.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs against your throat, his voice low and strained.

But stopping is the last thing on your mind. “Don’t,” you whisper.

The noise of the club fades into a dull throb, your pulse pounding in your ears as Louis pulls you deeper into the hallway. His grip is unrelenting, his hand firm around your wrist as he guides you toward the dimly lit bathroom, the air thick with the sharp scent of alcohol and sweat. When you step inside, he doesn’t hesitate. He closes the door behind you with a soft thud, and before you can even process what’s happening, he’s already pulling you toward him, his hands sliding to the curve of your waist.

"Fuck," he breathes, his voice low, gravelly, as he looks you over. His eyes darken with something primal, raw. "I need you."

The way he says it—like there’s no choice in the matter, like he’s been waiting for this—makes your stomach flutter with anticipation. Your heart races as he lifts you effortlessly, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. His body presses flush against yours, the heat radiating off of him like a furnace.

You’re suddenly aware of everything—his breath against your skin, the brush of his chest against yours, the sensation of his hands sliding down to grip your thighs as he carries you toward one of the stalls. The door bangs against the wall as he kicks it open with a force that leaves you breathless. You barely register it, too caught up in the way he’s looking at you—so intensely, so urgently—that it’s like the entire world outside has ceased to exist.

Louis doesn’t give you a moment to breathe. He presses you back against the door, and the sharp click of the lock echoes in the small space. His hands move to the hem of your shirt, lifting it slowly, deliberately, until the cool air hits your skin. The contrast of the cold on your warm body makes you gasp, but it’s nothing compared to the feeling of him against you.

"God, you're perfect," he mutters under his breath, his eyes raking over you like he can’t quite believe you’re here. His mouth finds the curve of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that makes your pulse spike. He’s everywhere at once—his lips, his hands, his body—leaving no space between the two of you.

His lips trail lower, his breath hot as it brushes against your collarbone, and you can’t help but shiver, arching into him as his hands slip lower, tracing the curve of your waist and hips. “Louis,” you breathe, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

“You want this,” he says, his voice rough with hunger as he presses his body into yours. His hands slide under your skirt, gripping your thighs, his thumbs brushing the inside of your legs. The sensation sends a shock of desire through you, and you tighten your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer.

You’re both moving instinctively now—his body surging into yours, your hands tearing at his jeans, pushing them down just enough so you can feel the hard line of him pressing into you. You’re both breathless, desperate, as your bodies start moving together, finding a rhythm born from nothing but pure need.

The heat between you is overwhelming, suffocating. You can feel every inch of him against you, your bodies grinding together with a desperation that feels like it's been building for weeks, months even. His lips find yours again, more forcefully this time, his tongue slipping between your lips as your hands roam over his chest, feeling the hard planes of his body.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groans against your mouth, his hands moving to the zipper of your skirt, tugging it down, leaving you exposed to him in the dim light.

You gasp as the cold air hits your skin, but the shock of it only fuels the fire between you. You push him back slightly, giving yourself enough room to pull off your panties, tossing them carelessly to the side. His eyes darken at the sight, and he groans again, his hands trembling slightly as they slide down your body.

“God, you’re killing me,” he mutters as he presses his body into yours again, the door rattling against the force of it. His lips trail down your neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin, and you can’t help the moan that slips from your mouth.

“You want me?” he asks, his voice low, dangerous, as his hands slide between your bodies, his fingers brushing against you, making you gasp.

“Yes,” you breathe. “Yes, I need you.”

And just like that, he’s pulling you closer, his hands gripping your hips with bruising force as he positions himself against you. The first thrust is slow, deliberate, but it doesn’t take long for the urgency to take over, for both of you to lose control.

Your bodies move together with a frantic rhythm, the pressure building, tightening, until you feel like you’re going to explode. The sensation is overwhelming, dizzying, and you cling to him, feeling his hands grip your skin like he’s afraid to let go. His breath comes in ragged gasps against your ear as he buries his face in your neck, his body pressing into yours with every thrust.

The world outside the stall is forgotten—there’s nothing but the sound of your breathing, the rhythm of your bodies, the urgent need to feel more.

When it happens, it’s all at once—the sharp pull of release, the sensation of your body shuddering as he groans your name, the feeling of him inside you. You lose yourself in him completely, and for a moment, the entire world falls away, leaving nothing but the raw, pulsing connection between the two of you.

For a long time, neither of you speaks. You’re both panting, trying to catch your breath as you stand there, still tangled together in the small, dimly lit stall. The air is thick, heavy with the aftermath, and the sound of the club’s music feels distant now, like it belongs to someone else’s world.

Louis rests his forehead against yours, his hands still cradling your hips as if he’s afraid to let you go. His breathing slows, but his grip on you doesn’t loosen.

“Are you okay?” he murmurs, his voice soft, the intensity from moments ago replaced with something else. Something almost tender.

You nod, your hands tracing the lines of his back, still feeling the echo of his touch. “Yeah,” you whisper. “I’m more than okay.”

And for a brief, fleeting moment, it feels like everything has shifted.

...

The morning light seeps through the curtains, casting pale slivers across the room, and you wake with a pounding headache that has everything to do with last night. As you sit up, stretching stiff muscles, your fingers graze your neck, and you freeze.

You already know what you’ll find. Your stomach flips as you rush to the mirror, pulling your hair away to reveal dark, circular marks. Hickeys. Louis’s hickeys.

Heat floods your face as the memories from last night rush back—his hands on your body, the rasp of his voice in your ear, the way he kissed you like he was starving for it. A shiver runs through you, not from regret, but from how damn good it all was.

Still, the marks are a problem. You grab your makeup bag and get to work, layering concealer and powder until they’re faint enough to be hidden by your hair. It’s not perfect, but it’ll have to do. You can’t let the others see. You can’t let anyone see.

Your phone buzzes on the counter, pulling you from your thoughts. It’s a message from Louis: "You good?"

Your heart hammers as you type back: "We need to talk."

A few minutes later, you’re knocking on his door. When it swings open, Louis is there—hair tousled, barefoot, still half-asleep, but the way he looks at you makes it clear he knows why you’re here.

“Hey,” you say, stepping inside. Your voice feels thin, unsure, but you force yourself to keep going. “About last night...”

Louis closes the door behind you and leans against it, crossing his arms. “Yeah,” he says slowly, watching you with that sharp, unreadable gaze of his.

“I woke up with... these,” you continue, gesturing toward your neck. His eyes follow the motion, a smirk twitching at his lips as he realizes what you’re talking about.

“Didn’t think I went that hard,” he teases, but there’s something softer underneath his usual playfulness. “Sorry about that.”

You let out a shaky laugh, your fingers brushing over the covered marks. “It’s fine. I covered them up, but, Louis... no one can know about this. The others would never let us live it down.”

Louis straightens, the smirk slipping into something more serious. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s probably best if we keep it between us.”

The weight of that decision settles over the room, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. Then, Louis lets out a low laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “I mean, for what it’s worth... it was a really fucking good time.”

Your breath catches, your heart flipping at the sincerity in his tone. A small, involuntary smile tugs at your lips. “Yeah,” you admit softly, meeting his gaze. “It really was.”

The tension in the room shifts—heavier, but warmer. There’s something unspoken between you, something lingering from last night, but you force yourself to push it aside.

“But it was... a one-time thing,” you say, your voice firmer now. “We were drunk, caught up in the moment. It doesn’t mean anything. Right?”

Louis hesitates, his jaw tightening ever so slightly before he nods. “Right,” he agrees, though his voice doesn’t carry the same conviction. “Just a one-time thing. We go back to normal. Friends. Bandmates. No weirdness.”

You nod, the words hanging heavy in the air. “Alright,” you say, standing and smoothing your shirt. “I’ll see you at soundcheck.”

Louis follows you to the door, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. “Yeah,” he says softly. “See you there.”

You step out into the hallway, feeling the weight of everything unspoken between you. The memory of last night burns in your mind, and as much as you tell yourself it was a mistake, a small, stubborn part of you knows it wasn’t.

And as you walk away, you know the secret you’re both keeping won’t be the hardest part. The hardest part will be pretending that you don’t want more.

...

The hotel bathroom feels impossibly small, its tiled walls closing in on you as you stare down at the pregnancy test in your trembling hands. The instructions are simple, straightforward, but they feel like a foreign language as you reread them for the third time.

Niall is waiting just outside, sitting on the edge of your hotel bed. You hadn’t planned to involve him this much, but when you decided to sneak out and buy the test earlier, he’d been the one person you trusted enough to call. Now, as the reality of what you’re about to do looms over you, you’re beyond grateful he’s here.

“Everything okay in there?” Niall’s voice drifts through the door, steady and calm.

“Yeah,” you call back, though your voice wavers. “I’m doing it now.”

“Take your time,” he replies, his tone gentle.

You follow the instructions mechanically, your heart pounding louder with every step. When it’s done, you set the test on the counter, face down, and set the timer on your phone. For a moment, you just stand there, gripping the edge of the sink to steady yourself.

When the timer buzzes, you hesitate, your hand hovering over the test.

“You good?” Niall asks from the other side of the door, the concern in his voice unmistakable.

You take a deep breath and pick up the test. The result is instant.

Pregnant.

The air rushes out of your lungs, and you open the bathroom door without even thinking. Niall is on his feet in an instant, his eyes scanning your face.

“What does it say?” he asks, his voice soft but urgent.

You hold up the test, your hand shaking. “It’s positive,” you whisper. “I’m pregnant.”

For a moment, Niall just stares, processing the words. Then, he crosses the room in two quick steps and pulls you into a hug. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “It’s gonna be okay. I’ve got you.”

You cling to him, tears spilling over as the weight of the situation crashes down on you. After a moment, he pulls back, his hands resting on your shoulders as he studies your face.

“Do you… know who the father is?” he asks carefully.

You nod, wiping your eyes. “It’s Louis.”

Niall’s eyebrows shoot up, and his mouth falls open slightly. “Louis?”

You laugh, a short, incredulous sound that bubbles out of you before you can stop it. “Yeah. It was that night we all went out to the bar.”

Realization dawns in his eyes, and he stares at you like he’s trying to piece it together. “Wait—so… the bathroom stall?”

You groan, covering your face with your hands. “Yes, the bathroom stall,” you say, your voice muffled.

For a moment, there’s silence. Then, to your surprise, Niall starts to laugh—a low chuckle that quickly turns into full-on laughter. It’s contagious, and soon you’re laughing too, tears streaming down your face as the absurdity of it all sinks in.

“I can’t believe I’m having a baby that was conceived in a bathroom stall,” you manage to choke out, shaking your head.

Niall grins, his laughter fading into a warm smile. “Hey, at least you’ll have a good story for the kid someday.”

You snort, wiping your cheeks. “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll go over great.”

As the laughter subsides, Niall’s expression grows serious again. “You're going to have to tell Louis.”

You shake your head, the weight of that reality settling over you. “Not yet. I don’t even know how to tell him.”

Niall squeezes your shoulder reassuringly. “You don’t have to figure it out alone. I’m here, alright? Whatever you need.”

His support steadies you, and you nod, a small spark of determination flickering to life. “Thanks, Niall,” you say softly.

He smiles, giving your shoulder a final squeeze. “We’ll figure it out. One step at a time.”

...

The hotel dining room buzzes with the usual morning energy: clinking cutlery, muted conversation, and the aroma of coffee filling the air. You sit with the boys, doing your best to seem normal as you pick at a piece of toast. The nausea has become a constant companion, and exhaustion drags at you more with each passing day.

“Still not feeling well?” Liam asks, glancing at your plate with a worried frown.

You force a smile. “It’s just a bug. I’ll be fine.”

“You’ve been saying that for weeks,” Zayn points out, his tone sharper than Liam’s, though there’s concern in his dark eyes.

Harry leans back in his chair, studying you closely. “You need to see a doctor. You’re barely eating, and you look knackered.”

“Thanks, Harry,” you say dryly, hoping humor will deflect their growing concern.

Louis, who’s been uncharacteristically quiet throughout breakfast, lifts his coffee cup to his lips but says nothing. His eyes linger on you, though, a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze.

“I’ll be fine,” you insist again, grabbing your mug and taking a sip even though the coffee turns your stomach. “Just need some rest.”

The boys don’t look convinced, but they eventually let it drop as the conversation shifts to tour logistics. When breakfast wraps up, everyone begins dispersing to their rooms.

As you step into the hallway, Niall gently catches your arm. “Hey, can we talk for a sec?”

“Sure,” you say, letting him steer you toward a quieter section of the corridor.

Unbeknownst to either of you, Louis lingers just out of sight around the corner, pretending to check his phone.

Niall keeps his voice low as he speaks. “How are you holding up? Really.”

You glance around nervously, making sure no one is nearby. “I’m okay,” you lie, though your voice wavers. “Just... trying to figure things out.”

He frowns, clearly not buying it. “You’ve got to stop pushing yourself so hard. This isn’t just about you anymore.”

“I know,” you whisper, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s just... it’s a lot, Niall.”

“Have you thought more about telling Louis?”

The question hangs in the air, and your heart sinks. “I don’t even know where to start,” you admit. “How do I tell him that I’m pregnant and it’s his baby? That it happened in a bloody bathroom stall?”

Niall snorts, though his expression quickly turns serious again. “You’re going to have to tell him eventually. He deserves to know, and you deserve to have his support.”

“I know,” you say quietly. “I just… I’m scared, Niall. What if he freaks out? What if it changes everything between us?”

“He might freak out,” Niall says honestly. “But he’s Louis. He’ll step up. You’ve got to trust him—and yourself.”

Neither of you notice the shadow around the corner or the way Louis freezes in place, his breath catching as he processes what he just overheard.

“I’ll tell him,” you say finally, your voice shaky but resolute. “I just need to figure out how.”

Niall nods, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Whenever you’re ready, I’ve got your back.”

You manage a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, Niall. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

As the two of you part ways, Louis remains rooted to his spot, his mind racing. He had only stopped to grab his jacket, not to eavesdrop—but now, he can’t unhear what’s just been revealed.

Pregnant. His baby.

The words loop in his mind, crashing over him in waves of shock and disbelief. He grips the wall for support, his heart pounding as he tries to process what this means—for you, for him, for everything.

...

The hotel suite is unusually quiet, the remnants of breakfast scattered across the coffee table as the boys lounge around. You’re absent, having slipped away earlier, and the rest of the group assumes you’re just taking some much-needed time to yourself.

Louis, however, can’t sit still. He paces the room, his jaw tight and his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. His thoughts are a jumbled mess, but one thing is clear: he needs answers.

Niall, sitting on the armrest of a couch, notices the tension radiating off Louis. “Mate, you alright?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

That’s all it takes for Louis to stop pacing and whirl around to face him. “No, Niall, I’m not alright,” he snaps, his voice sharp enough to make everyone else in the room sit up straighter.

“What’s going on?” Liam asks, frowning.

Louis ignores him, his blue eyes locked on Niall. “How long were you planning on keeping it from me?” he demands, his voice rising.

“Keeping what from you?” Niall replies carefully, though his face pales slightly.

“Don’t play dumb with me!” Louis shouts, taking a step closer. “I know. I heard you talking to her this morning.”

The room falls into stunned silence, and Zayn and Harry exchange wide-eyed looks.

“What are you talking about?” Harry finally asks, his tone laced with confusion.

Louis doesn’t even glance at him. His focus is still entirely on Niall. “She’s pregnant, isn’t she? And it’s mine.”

Niall’s mouth opens and closes a few times, but no sound comes out. The rest of the boys look utterly shell-shocked, their eyes darting between Louis and Niall.

“Is it true?” Liam asks, his voice quieter now, though no less serious.

Niall lets out a long breath, running a hand through his hair. “It wasn’t my place to tell you, Louis,” he says, his voice firm despite the guilt flickering in his eyes. “She needed time to figure out how to say it herself.”

Louis’s laugh is bitter, almost disbelieving. “Time? You don’t think I deserved to know right away? That I deserved to hear it from her—or at least someone—before overhearing you whispering about it in a bloody hallway?”

“I was just trying to be there for her,” Niall says defensively, standing now to meet Louis’s glare. “She’s scared out of her mind, Louis. This isn’t easy for her.”

“You think this is easy for me?” Louis shoots back, his voice cracking slightly. “Finding out I’m going to be a dad like this?”

The words hang in the air, heavy and raw.

Zayn leans forward, his brow furrowed. “Wait. Are you saying Y/N’s pregnant, and it’s yours?”

“Yes,” Louis snaps, throwing his arms out in frustration. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Harry sits back, his jaw slack as he processes the revelation. “Bloody hell.”

“Look, I get that you’re upset,” Niall says, his tone softer now. “But she needed time to figure things out. I was just trying to support her until she was ready to talk to you.”

“She should’ve come to me,” Louis mutters, his anger ebbing slightly but still palpable. “I deserved to know.”

“And she knows that,” Niall replies. “But she’s been scared, Louis. She didn’t want to mess everything up. She didn’t know how you’d react.”

Louis takes a deep breath, his hands raking through his hair as he processes Niall’s words. “I don’t know how to react,” he admits, his voice quieter now. “This is... massive.”

“It is,” Liam says, speaking up for the first time since the confrontation started. “But it’s not something you have to figure out alone. We’re all here for both of you.”

Louis looks around the room, his frustration slowly giving way to uncertainty. “I need to talk to her,” he says finally, more to himself than anyone else.

“Then do that,” Niall says gently. “But give her some grace, mate. She’s dealing with a lot.”

Louis nods, his expression still tense but less combative. Without another word, he turns and walks out of the room, leaving the rest of the boys in stunned silence.

...

You’re standing at the sink in your hotel bathroom, clutching the edge of the counter to steady yourself as another wave of nausea passes. The fluorescent lights buzz faintly, adding to the headache pounding at your temples.

Splashing cold water on your face, you glance at your reflection, pale and drawn. You’d thought you could keep things under control, at least for a little while longer. But the toll on your body is becoming harder and harder to hide.

A knock at the bathroom door startles you. Before you can answer, Louis’s voice cuts through.

“Y/N, it’s me. Open up.”

Your stomach twists for an entirely different reason now. His tone is firm, no trace of his usual teasing lilt. You grab a towel to pat your face dry, stalling for time.

“I’m fine, Louis,” you call back, trying to sound normal.

“I’m not leaving,” he says, and you can hear the resolve in his voice. “We need to talk.”

With a resigned sigh, you open the door. Louis is standing there, arms crossed and a look of determination on his face. The blue of his eyes is intense, searching yours for answers you’re not ready to give.

“Can we do this later?” you ask weakly.

“No,” he says, stepping into the bathroom and closing the door behind him. “I know.”

Your breath catches. “You know what?”

“I know you’re pregnant,” he says, his voice quieter now but no less firm. “And I know it’s mine.”

The air feels sucked out of the room, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him.

“How—” you start, but he cuts you off.

“I heard you and Niall talking this morning,” he admits. “I wasn’t eavesdropping—it just happened. And now I need to hear it from you. Is it true?”

You look down at your feet, your hands trembling. “Yes,” you whisper.

Louis exhales sharply, leaning back against the door as he runs a hand through his hair. “How long have you known?”

“About a week,” you admit, your voice barely audible. “I wasn’t sure at first, but I took a test. Niall’s the only one I told.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, his voice cracking slightly. “Why did I have to find out like this?”

Tears prick at your eyes, and you sink onto the closed toilet lid. “I didn’t know how to, Louis,” you confess. “It’s not exactly an easy thing to bring up. And I didn’t know how you’d react. I was scared.”

“Scared of me?” he asks, his brows knitting together.

“No,” you say quickly. “Not of you. Just... of everything. What this means for us, for the band. I didn’t want to ruin everything.”

Louis crouches down in front of you, his hands resting on your knees. The unexpected tenderness in the gesture makes your chest tighten.

“You’re not ruining anything,” he says softly, his voice steadier now. “But you can’t shut me out of this. I deserve to know what’s going on, Y/N. This is my baby too.”

The weight of his words hits you, and you nod, wiping at your eyes. “I know. I’m sorry, Louis. I was just... trying to figure it all out.”

“Well, you don’t have to do it alone anymore,” he says, his hands squeezing your knees gently. “We’ll figure it out together.”

You look up at him, surprised by the conviction in his voice. “You mean that?”

“Of course I do,” he says, a small, reassuring smile tugging at his lips. “We might not have planned this, but it’s happening. And I’m not going anywhere.”

For the first time in days, a flicker of hope sparks in your chest. “Thank you,” you whisper.

Louis stands, offering you his hand. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s get out of this bathroom. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

You take his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. And for the first time, you feel like maybe, just maybe, you won’t have to face this alone.

Louis doesn’t let go of your hand as he leads you out of the bathroom, guiding you to sit on the edge of the bed. He stays standing for a moment, running a hand through his hair as if trying to gather his thoughts. When he finally sits beside you, he turns to face you fully, his expression serious but gentle.

“I know this probably feels overwhelming,” he starts, his voice softer now. “But I need you to know something. I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. Not now, not ever.”

Tears prick your eyes again, and you bite your lip, overwhelmed by the sincerity in his words. “Louis, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he interrupts firmly. “This isn’t about what I have to do. This is my baby, and you... you’re everything to me.”

Your breath catches, and you stare at him, unsure if you heard him correctly. “What do you mean?”

He exhales deeply, a small, nervous smile tugging at his lips. “I mean I’ve been in love with you for ages, Y/N. I’ve just been too much of a coward to say it.”

“Louis...”

He laughs softly, though there’s a trace of vulnerability in his eyes. “It’s true. I’ve hidden behind all the jokes and the flirting because I was terrified you didn’t feel the same. I thought if I said something, I’d ruin what we have. And then that night at the club happened, and I thought maybe... but you said it was a mistake, and I didn’t want to push.”

You shake your head, a tear slipping down your cheek. “It wasn’t a mistake,” you admit, your voice trembling. “I only said that because I was scared. Scared of ruining what we have, just like you were. But I’ve been in love with you too, Louis. For so long.”

His eyes widen, and for a moment, he looks utterly stunned. “You mean that?”

“Yes,” you whisper, reaching for his hand. “I mean it.”

He lets out a soft, incredulous laugh, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “All this time, we’ve been dancing around each other like idiots.”

You laugh too, though it’s choked with emotion. “Yeah. Pretty much.”

The two of you sit there for a moment, letting the weight of the truth settle between you. Then Louis’s grin turns mischievous, his blue eyes sparkling.

“Can you believe our kid’s going to have the most ridiculous conception story ever?” he says, his voice teasing.

You can’t help but laugh, the tension breaking slightly. “Conceived in a bathroom stall at a nightclub,” you say, shaking your head. “That’s not exactly the romantic story you tell at family gatherings.”

Louis chuckles, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “No, but it’s our story,” he says, his tone softening again. “And I wouldn’t change it for anything.”

The warmth in his gaze makes your heart swell, and before you can overthink it, you lean in. Louis meets you halfway, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that’s nothing like the heated, impulsive one from that night. This one is slow, deliberate, and full of everything you’ve both been holding back.

When you finally pull apart, he rests his forehead against yours, his hand still cradling your face. “I’m all in, Y/N,” he says quietly. “For you, for this baby. For everything.”

A tear slips down your cheek, but this time it’s one of relief, not fear. “Me too,” you whisper.

The two of you sit there in the quiet, holding each other as the enormity of the moment settles in. For the first time in weeks, you feel like everything might just be okay.

...

Part 2

[grahstumhurts]

1. Ignition

Cheerleader!Megan x Loser Band Member!Reader

a/n - n/n basically means nickname

Rekindling Masterlist

“Hey” Lara waves a hand over your face “You good? Zoned out for a good five minutes. Anything you wanna talk about?” She questions the look on your face, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. Noticing the deepness in your thoughts in the way your face had scrunched up.

“I'm good, Dont worry about me.” You shrug her hand off your shoulder, standing up to put your guitar strap on. “What are we working on today?” All four of your band had gathered in Dani’s garage, which had become a tradition ever since forming your quartet. Meeting up every Tuesday and Thursday to work on music together, With Lara as vocals, Dani as bass, Yoonchae on drums and You on guitar and main songwriter. 

“We are voting on prom performance songs” Dani grins, “As the leader of our band, I say we should do either Still into you or Fender. if your done that is.”

“Either one works for me.” Yoonchae chimes in, quietly tuning her drum kit.

“I'm down to sing still into you” Lara shrugs and looks over at me expectantly. “What bout’ you? Still into you fits your vibes currently since you're still not over megan.” Dani slaps Laras arm, “Ow what its true!” She rubs her arm. 

“Fenders my vote, Dani?” you glance over at dani who is still glaring at Lara. “For the record I'm over her.” You go back to playing around with your pick, One that Megan had given you when you were kids. A pink hello kitty one with her worn out initials on the back. 

“You still using that pick says a lot, Yn” Dani scoffs “But i can ask if we do both? I’m sure Ms Grant wont mind us doing two” She shrugs, 

“Well some of the lyrics on fender need some reworking since i haven't finished it.” you add in, “I’m like, 80% done though. Shouldn't take too long” you glance into your notebook, the lyrics scribbled in, varieties of different coloured pens from when you had woken up and scribbled something down. You hand it over to Lara, who takes a quick read and nods. 

“This is probably some of your best work so far, Personally.” She smiles, “No offence to the other songs in this tragedy of a notebook”

“None taken, Some of those were horrid” You chuckle. “Lets work on still into you first though, I’ll finish up fender in the next couple of days.” You strum your guitar to check its tuning before turning on the amp. 

-

Wednesdays were always the worst. You shared one class with Megan and that was Psychology. On Wednesdays Psych was always first period, which means you had to see her with Greg. Greg is an asshole to say the least, He always teases Yoonchae, who's a sophomore while he's a Senior. Calling her a bunch of racist slurs and other things cause she's a transfer student from Korea, Not sure he realises Megan is also Asian. Pretty fucking ironic honestly. Greg always flirts with Megan any chance he gets. It's hard not to pay attention to his poor attempts at flirting with her when he's so bad at it. 

You sit in your regular spot waiting for Ms Ginberg, You open up your notebook and work on changing up some of the lyrics that didn't work. 

“Im hiding in the trunk im crossing my legs,” You mumble under your breath, “What's another word for crossing?” You rub your forehead as you repeat your question aloud.

“Pretzeling is a good word. If that's what you're looking for?” Megan stands by your desk, Close enough to notice the scent of oranges and persimmons, Her favourite fruits. “You write music now, That's pretty cool, N/n” She smiles at you, as if she hadn't been ignoring you for the past year.

“Thanks,” You avoid eye contact with her, scribbling down the word in place of crossing. “I'm hiding in the trunk, I'm pretzeling my legs. Sounds a lot better.” 

“Whats this song even about?” She questions you, looking into your notebook glancing around at the different lyrics. 

“Its nothing, just something i'm working on” You hastily close the book and shove it into your bag. “Since when do you care what i'm doing?” You scoff under your breath as Ms Ginberg walks in, Megan returns to her normal seat next to Greg with a slightly hurt expression.

-

Class goes as usual, Ms Ginberg teaches nothing, Greg flirts with Megan,Ms Ginberg assigns you way too much homework, and the list goes on. You gotta give it to Greg, he is persistent. Megan comes up behind you after class ends, Taps your shoulder to get your attention.

“Hey, Can we talk after school?” She asks, with a seemingly large amount of sincerity “I owe you an apology and an explanation.”

“What makes you care now?” You cross your arms over your chest and give her a disappointed look “You haven't seemed to care for two years, Megan.” It hurts to call her that when you’ve known her for all your life as Meg or Meimei. 

“Look, Just hear me out. You don't have to do anything afterwards, I'll leave you be. But just take a chance on me okay?” She pleads with you.

“Fine, I’ll meet you outside the gate and we’ll talk there.” You sigh deeply, “I’ve gotta go to my next class. I’ll see you around, Megan” You walk off, knocking your shoulders together as you push past her to your second class of the day. Lara ambushes you on your way to your shared ceramics class. 

“So, what's the deal with you and Megan anyway?” She gives you a knowing look “If you're not over her just say so, Saw you talking to her earlier.”

“She wanted to talk, I dunno what about but it seems important I guess.” You shrug “I’m not entirely sure if I'm totally over her now.” You sigh again and Lara rolls her eyes

“I knew it, Dude, seriously its not that embarrassing as you think.” She pushes your shoulder playfully “First girl crushes be like that for real.” she laughs after her last comment.

A/n EEEK SO HAPPY WITH HOW THIS FIRST CHAPTER CAME OUT WOOOWOWOOO

[newtonsheffield]

You know that Mary fell right back into being the delighted audience for Neddy to bang on his drum kit with very little rhythm after years of listening to Edwina play guitar.

Her body slipped back into it like muscle memory as he loudly smashed on the high hat.

And of course he does come out at the end of Edwina’s next show, while Kate and Anthony holler for him from the wings.

“This is my little nephew who’s the best tiny man there is and he’s going to do a drum solo for you so fucking clap when he’s done please. Welcome to the stage Tiny Viscount Neddy.”

Neddy has to stand behind the huge drum kit and his dinosaur shoes light up as he walks across the stage.

“He’s so sweet.” Kate sighed watching Neddy grin cheekily, staring at himself on the big screen while the crowd roars.

Anthony hummed, pulling her back against his chest. “We made a good baby. Kind of makes you think we should make another one.”

“Don’t push your luck.”

[nomadwrites]

bubblegum pink ⋆˚✿

gojo satoru

summary ⋆୨୧⋆ in which you've managed to convince the greatest jujutsu sorcerer of your time into getting pink highlights. what could go wrong? a lot, you learn.

contents ⋆୨୧⋆ spoilers!, pure fluff & rusty writing

notes ⋆୨୧⋆ let's start off easy, shall we? feedback is most certainly welcome & would be much appreciated! enjoy ₊˚ෆ

"come on, it's only temporary!"

"not a chance! do you know how much time and effort i put into caring for these lustrous locks?"

"it'll grow out anyways," you huff, setting down the contents of the hair dye kit on the bathroom counter. "and here i thought you were the adventurous type."

"adventure is one thing, but this? this would be an act of vandalism," satoru feigns a look of betrayal, silver lashes framing his wide blue orbs, "like defacing the mona lisa."

you gasp in exaggeration, clasping a hand over your mouth. if there was one thing on the boy’s long list of things he loved about you, it'd be your ability to keep up with his personality.

"sure. but don't you get tired of always having the same old hairstyle? maybe it'd be nice to switch it up every now and then, yknow?"

"i hardly doubt anyone could ever get tired of this." he gestures to himself, standing tall, a smirk gracing his features.

“you’re insufferable.”

“and you love that about me.”

you do your best to hide the smile that threatens to break free, chewing on your bottom lip. “oh but you’d look absolutely gorgeous,” you plead, voice dripping with honey as you cross your arms over your chest, leaning against the countertop. you bat your lashes at him, round doe eyes peering into sparkling azure pools.

the look you give him makes his heart do flips and his gaze softens ever so slightly. he can't say no to you, not when you're gazing up at him with those puppy-dog eyes of yours. you’re perfectly aware of the effect you have on him, but that’s not to say you’d ever take advantage of him. if anything, you’re just as smitten.

satoru adores gratifying you, answering to your every beck and call, no matter the request, even if they can be a little odd at times. who was he to deny you anything when you looked so entrancing?

he pretends to ponder, drumming his fingers along the cool ceramic of the sink counter. if you're quiet enough, you might hear the way the gears in his head shift as he puts on a show of overtly dramatised deliberation. it almost makes you snort, but after a minute or two of silence, he caves in, shoulders slumping.

"if it makes you happy," he breathes, flicking his gaze back to you as you perk up with excitement, light practically radiating off of you. he might come to regret this in a few hours, but when he sees the way your eyes sparkle with a radiance that seems so pure, he thinks it won’t be so bad. after all, it is only temporary.

"just so i get to hear it again," he pauses, slender fingers intertwining with yours as he guides you over to him and plops down onto the closed seat of the toilet, long legs splayed on either side of you. "you think i'm gorgeous?"

“not quite yet,” you say, running your fingers through his silver locks, admiring the soft lavender undertones. his glasses are sitting just above the tip of his nose, brilliant sapphire depths on full display. no matter how many times you’ve looked him in the eye,, it always manages to knock the air out of your lungs. “i’ll see what i can do.”

“aren’t you a sweetheart?”

“i am.”

he exhales, humming in agreement as he relaxes under your touch and relishes in the scent of your skin, not the fragrance of perfume or shampoo, but you.

this is nice, you think. free time has always been hard to come by, even more so for gojo than you. things had changed after the star plasma vessel incident. he had changed, and although he did his best to hide it, you knew better. you were there to ground him, to remind him of his humanity and his purpose for becoming a sorcerer. you were there to keep him afloat.

"so!" you clap, startling him enough to knock his glasses askew, "let's get started!"

"booo," he pouts, like some child. he likes to think you're like this because of him, that you've spent so much time with him you've essentially become a miniature satoru gojo. the thought of it makes him feel all warm and mushy inside, something he really only feels with you, despite how popular he is with people.

you get to work, skimming through the pamphlet of instructions. satoru attempts to help you, mostly by staring whilst seated on the toilet, questioning if you really knew what you were doing. you stick out your tongue at him as did he, tugging on his lower eyelid.

you manage to end up with a bowl of bright pink sludge, the scent of chemicals wafting through the enclosed space of your bathroom. satoru grimaces, both at the smell and how awfully pigmented the dye seemed, cautiously eyeing the mixture held between your gloved hands.

“no turning back now.”

“you’re sure this is temporary?”

“mhmm!” you say, throwing a towel over his shoulders to shield his black linen shirt from any stray drops of hair dye. contrary to popular belief, the all-powerful jujutsu sorcerer doesn’t make use of his infinity when there was no real need to, his reasoning something akin to him wanting to experience moments of normalcy with those close to him.

“i’m great aren’t i? strong, handsome with a heart of gold,” he’d said, standing in akimbo.

“in an alternate universe, sure.”

you smile at the memory, recalling the way he tutted when you responded, earning chuckles from both shoko and geto.

“y’know on second thought–” satoru’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, “maybe blue would be a better option? make my eyes pop and all that,” he stalls, turning to look at you.

“it’s not gonna be this bright toru, it’ll be a lot lighter once we rinse you off. besides, i’ve only got pink right now–“

“great! so we should–“

“but you already said we could–“

and you’re both tugging, trying to grab ahold of the bowl. “toru stop it! you’re gonna–“

splat.

"ah," he blinks.

silence falls between the both of you, letting the sound of droplets hitting the floor echo loud in your ears. you’re wide eyed in disbelief, and it takes you a moment before you press your lips together in a futile attempt to conceal the snort that bubbles from your throat.

———————-

“don’t you look pretty?” geto teases, snapping a photo of satoru’s lifeless body as he sits limp at his desk, looking as if his soul had left his body. you’re sure it did last night after rinsing him off in the shower, fully clothed, the sight of him drenched in fuchsia finding a permanent home in your brain. shoko echoes after the raven-haired boy, resting her head on a closed fist.

satoru’s once moonlit hair now a splotchy mess of soft pink, the hair dye staining his eyebrows an even brighter shade of bubblegum. you had to practically drag him out the bathroom by the feet afterward.

“what have you done?” he whined, voice breaking.

“me?!” you gasped, “you had a part to play in this too!”

it was a miracle he’d even changed out of his wet clothes, albeit it taking around an hour or so. you’re sure he laid on the floor for the rest of the night after you’d left, geto being the first to find him in the exact same position this morning. thankfully, you hadn’t had to drag him to class.

at the very least, this would be another fond memory you’d share together.

[lvnleah]

Roo’s drum kit

For weeks you had been begging Beth and Viv to buy you a drum kit. It was just a few weeks until Christmas and they’d taken you to Smyths Toys superstore and that’s where you’d gotten the idea from.

“Mamma!” You called out to Viv as you rushed straight over to the drum kit, “Look! It’s a drum kit!”

“Oh wow, look at that, Roo!” Viv smiled, side-eyeing Beth as they both knew what was coming.

You sat yourself down at the drumkit and grabbed the two sticks before bashing each drum with all your might, the sound echoing through the store. Viv winced slightly at the loud noise, but Beth just laughed, knowing there was no way to stop you now.

“I want one for Christmas!” You grinned, bouncing on the seat, completely undeterred by the noise.

Viv crouched down beside you, “Well, you definitely have the energy for it, don’t you?” she said, ruffling your hair. “But we’ll have to talk about it, okay?”

“Please, please, please!” You pleaded, eyes wide, trying to use your best puppy-dog eyes.

Viv glanced over at Beth, who shrugged. “We’ll see,” Beth said, “Let’s just finish up here, okay? How about we go look at the doll you want!”

You nodded eagerly, jumping off of the seat before rambling on about the new baby Annabell doll you wanted. Your little mind completely forgot about the drum kit until a few hours later when you started going on about it again.

For the next two weeks, you didn’t stop flaming about the drum kit and how you couldn’t wait to have one. Beth and Viv were both praying that by the time Christmas rolled around you would have completely forgotten about it.

It was around a week before Christmas when Steph had offered to take you out for the day while Beth and Viv spent a bit of time together. When you found out that your Auntie Steffy was taking you out for the day you were practically bouncing around.

“Mummy!” You screeched as you came running into the living room with your shoes, Myle and Calvin following at your feet. “Can Steffy take me to the toy shop? I can show her that drum kit!”

Beth chuckled as you flopped on the floor for her to help you put your shoes on, “Maybe if you’re good and ask Steffy nicely she will.”

“Ask me what nicely?” Steph said as she came out of her bedroom. She was currently living with you which you found fun.

“If we can go to the toy shop!” You smiled, jumping up from the floor and rushing over to Steph.

“Oh well, I’m sure if you’re good we can fit it in!” Steph agreed.

You let out a loud cheer and ran off to grab your coat, yelling, “I’m gonna show you the drum kit, Steffy! You’re gonna love it!”

Steph laughed and turned to Beth, who was leaning against the kitchen counter with a mug of tea. “A drum kit, huh?” Steph raised an eyebrow.

Beth groaned, shaking her head. “She’s been on about it nonstop for weeks. Viv’s ready to ban Smyths Toys from our outings.”

“Well, good luck saying no to that face,” Steph replied, ruffling your hair as you returned with your coat.

“Help me with my coat please?” You asked Steph politely who happily helped you slip it on and zip it up.

As Steph zipped up your coat, Viv appeared from her and Beth’s bedroom and you were quick to tell her about your plans for the day with Steph.

“We’re going to the toy shop, Mamma! I’m going to show Steffy the drum kit, and then maybe…” You paused, thinking hard, “Maybe we can even bring it home!”

Viv’s lips twitched with amusement as she knelt to smooth your coat. “Oh, is that so? Are you going to convince Auntie Steffy to buy it for you, Roo?”

You nodded, a big grin plastered across your face. “Steffy always says yes!”

Steph chuckled, shaking her head. “Don’t set me up like that, Roo. You know your mums are the bosses here.”

Beth chuckled, leaning over to kiss the top of your head. “Alright, cheeky monkey. You two have fun. And remember Roo, it’s not Christmas yet, so no sneaking any drum kits home today.”

You pouted dramatically but quickly perked up when Steph grabbed her bag and keys. “Ready, kiddo?”

“Yes! Bye, Mummy! Bye, Mamma!” you shouted, already tugging Steph towards the door.

Beth and Viv exchanged knowing looks as the door closed behind you and Steph. “You know she’s going to make Steph play that thing in the store,” Viv sighed.

Beth grinned. “Serves her right for offering to take her out. Let’s just hope Steph doesn’t give in and actually buy it.”

At the toy store, you practically dragged Steph straight to the drum kit aisle, your little legs moving as fast as they could.

“Here it is!” you announced proudly, pointing at the very same drum kit you had seen weeks ago. You climbed up onto the tiny stool and grabbed the drumsticks like a professional. “Watch this, Steffy!”

Steph crossed her arms, watching you with a mix of amusement and dread as you started banging away. The noise was even louder this time, echoing through the store and turning a few heads.

Steph winced but clapped when you finished. “Wow, Roo, that was… very loud.”

“It's so fun!” you beamed. “I’m really good! You can get it for me, right?”

Steph crouched down beside you, doing her best to keep a straight face. “Well, kiddo, I think your mums would have my head if I came home with this.”

“But why?” you pouted, giving her your best sad eyes.

Steph sighed, knowing full well she was no match for you. “How about we take a picture of you with it, and I’ll send it to your mums? Maybe that’ll help convince them.”

You grinned. “Okay! Take the picture!”

Steph snapped a quick photo of you grinning proudly behind the drum kit and sent it off to Beth and Viv with the caption: “Look who’s ready to start a band! 😅”

Beth replied almost instantly: “DO NOT buy that.”

Viv’s response came seconds later: “We’re begging you, Steph.”

Steph chuckled, showing you their messages. “See? Your mums aren’t ready for all that noise just yet.”

You frowned with a little pout, “But I really need it, Steffy,” you said, your bottom lip trembling. “It’s all I want!”

Steph sighed, already feeling herself caving. “Roo, I can’t just—”

You didn’t even let her finish as you made your pout even more dramatic. “But Steffy…” you whined.

Steph groaned, glancing at the drum kit and then back at your hopeful little face. “Okay, but only because you’re the cutest kid ever,” she muttered, already regretting her decision as you let out an ear-piercing squeal.

“Yay! I love you, Steffy!” you shouted, throwing your arms around her in a tight hug.

Steph paid for the drum kit, wincing at the price tag but unable to resist your excitement as you skipped out of the store, holding her hand and humming to yourself.

When the two of you got back home, Steph tried to sneak the drum kit into the house without Beth and Viv noticing. She managed to make it as far as the hallway before Beth’s voice rang out from the kitchen.

“Steph, is that what I think it is?” Beth called her tone a mix of pretend annoyance and amusement.

Steph froze, clutching the box like a guilty child. “Uh… surprise?”

Viv appeared next, her eyes widening when she saw the box of the drum kit. “You didn’t.”

“She did!” you announced proudly, bouncing into the room. “Steffy got it for me! Look!”

Beth pinched the bridge of her nose while Viv crossed her arms, glaring at Steph, trying to be stern but clearly holding back a laugh at Steph’s sheepish expression.

“She gave me the puppy-dog eyes!” Steph defended, setting the box down. “You try saying no to that face!”

Beth and Viv exchanged a glance before sighing in unison.

“Fine,” Beth said, crouching down to your level. “But, Roo, if you’re going to play the drums, you have to follow some rules, okay? No playing early in the morning or when anyone’s on a call or sick. Deal?”

You nodded eagerly. “Deal! Thank you, Mummy, thank you, Mamma!”

“And Steph,” Viv added dryly, shaking her head at the grinning Aussie, “you’re on drum duty when she drives us all crazy with that thing. I already don’t like it and it’s not even out of the box.”

“Fair enough,” Steph said with a chuckle, ruffling your hair.

You spent the rest of the day gleefully banging away on your new drum kit, filling the house with chaotic noise. Beth and Viv exchanged looks of mock regret while Steph sat on the couch, trying not to laugh as she watched you live your best life.

It was safe to say you were enjoying your little drum kit.